I’m not sure if it’s just how things have lined up, but 2025 has felt like a landmark year for video games, particularly if you’re a Game Pass subscriber. We’ve had a wave of strong releases from both big-name studios and smaller developers alike, all landing back-to-back with barely any downtime in between. And yet, even in a year stacked with heavy hitters, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 stands out in a way that few indie titles have managed to do recently. It’s not just a pleasant surprise, it’s a confident, emotionally charged, genre-blending experience that proves that ambition and artistry aren’t limited to big-budget studios.
The game takes place in a beautifully surreal, painterly world where time itself has turned into a death sentence. Each year, an otherworldly being known only as the Paintress selects a number, and anyone whose age matches that number is erased from existence. No explanations, no exceptions. This year, the number is 33, and your team of doomed warriors, all aged 33, has set out on a final expedition to confront the Paintress and break the cycle before they vanish too. It’s a good hook for any player, and it gives the story an emotional urgency that never fades. Every moment you spend with your party members is underscored by the ticking clock of their inevitable erasure. But rather than leaning into despair, the game finds power in defiance. It’s about making meaning in a world where time is weaponized, and about resisting not just fate, but the idea that your life can be defined by when it ends.
As for the combat, that’s where the game throws a curveball. On paper, it’s turn-based, but in execution, it’s something much more dynamic. Battles blend traditional RPG mechanics with real-time reaction tests—think Paper Mario or Persona but fused with the intensity of a Soulsborne boss fight. You’re dodging attacks with precise timing, nailing combos with rhythm inputs, and making tactical decisions while under pressure. It’s flashy but never shallow. Every fight feels like a test of both skill and understanding of your party’s emotional arcs, which directly tie into their abilities. One character might deal more damage the closer they are to confronting their mortality, while another might rely on memories of someone lost to cast a devastating spell. What makes these battles even more memorable is the enemy design. You’re not fighting generic monsters—you’re facing twisted echoes of past “Paintress” victims, surreal constructs of doubt, sorrow, and rage. They’re equal parts grotesque and beautiful, as if born from some corrupted Renaissance painting. It reinforces the idea that you’re not just fighting enemies, you’re fighting back against time, against being forgotten.
And that idea extends into the game’s leveling system, which completely subverts traditional RPG grind. There’s no EXP farming or loot-based progression. Instead, you evolve through choice, often irreversible, weighty ones. Do you give up a cherished memory for strength? Do you confront a past failure to unlock a new skill, knowing it will cost you emotionally? These aren’t just dialogue choices; they shape how your characters fight, how they relate to others, and how the world reacts to them. It’s bold, and it works because it trusts players to care, not just about winning, but about why they’re winning.
The story itself is rich with allegory and introspection. It doesn’t spoon-feed its message, and it respects your intelligence enough to let ambiguity breathe. The writing is poetic without being self-indulgent, and while the middle chapters sometimes wade into cryptic waters, it never feels hollow. It’s not a twist-driven narrative, but an emotionally sustained one. What matters most is how the characters evolve—and how much of themselves they’re willing to give up to buy a chance at hope. Musically, Expedition 33 goes all in. The score feels like something out of a melancholy opera—lush strings, eerie synths, and vocal pieces that swell at just the right moment. There are boss fights where the music doesn’t just enhance the battle—it transforms it.
If there’s a downside, it’s that the game can occasionally get lost in its own dream logic. Certain sections in the third act stretch a bit too long or layer on abstract imagery that doesn’t land as clearly as it thinks it does. And while the combat system is refreshing, the difficulty spikes can feel erratic, especially if you’ve made narrative-based upgrades that emphasize risk over raw stats. But even then, these aren’t deal-breakers. They’re the growing pains of a game swinging for the fences.
In the end, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 isn’t just one of the best indie games of the year—it’s one of the most powerful narrative RPGs of the decade. It balances the intimacy of small-team storytelling with the scope of a philosophical epic, all wrapped in a visual and mechanical package that dares to be different. It’s not an easy game, and it’s definitely not a passive one. But if you’re willing to meet it where it stands, there’s nothing quite like it. Game Pass or not, this is a must-play. And once the credits roll, don’t be surprised if you find yourself thinking not just about what happened, but what it meant.
Score: 10 out of 10
Reviewed on Xbox Series X