Story Breakdown of "Clair Obscur: Expedition 33"

I’ve been playing a lot of video games lately.

Like … a lot, a lot. These things happen when you unexpectedly fracture your toe taking a judo throw in MMA class. 🤷🏻

Yeah, I’ve been laid up the past few weeks. Lying in bed, on strict doctor’s orders to walk as little as possible. And frankly, I’m over it. It’s not as fun as you might think.

Much of my time has been spent revisiting old favorites: exploring unique worlds in Final Fantasy, building empires in Civilization, and chasing immortality in MLB: The Show. But it was a game about mortality that really knocked my socks off …

That game is "Clair Obscur: Expedition 33."

I’ll save you the long preamble about its quality and just say this: everything you’ve heard about this game is true. The thing is downright awesome and deserves every last one of its record-setting award nominations (I’d honestly be surprised if it doesn’t sweep).

Storytelling wisdom doesn’t always come in a leather cover with footnotes in the back. Sometimes it comes fully buffed, voice-acted, and with a robust ability tree. If you’re someone who doesn’t think you can learn something new because it’s “just a video game,” then I strongly encourage you to branch out and open your eyes.

We’re going to do a deep-dive into E33 and talk about what it does so damn well. How it manages to tell a fantastic narrative that grabs you by the throat and refuses to let go.

Please note: THERE WILL BE SPOILERS. If we’re going to learn from this, then those are unavoidable. So, if you’d rather play it first and come back to this article later, heed this warning and stop now.

For all others ...

We’re going to start with:

THE CHARACTERS HAVE A CLEAR GOAL

Yes, this is basic. And no, I don’t care. I’m going to harp on the fundamentals over and over again until the scripts I read in the Pipeline Workshop consistently show an understanding of them.

The setting for E33 is a broken French city called Lumière. And when the story opens, the whole town is getting ready for an event called “The Gommage.” We’re placed into the eyes of a man named Gustave as he reconnects with his old flame, a woman named Sophie.

Today is Sophie’s (and many other Lumièrians’) Gommage day.

The first hour doesn’t rush you. You stroll. You listen. You absorb Lumière not as a setting, but a living thing. NPC conversations, festival music, and two people who almost had something real years ago …

But eventually, we make it to the harbor. The sun sets. And it’s here that shit starts to get real …

You see, far out in the distance … miles and miles away … there’s a glowing number in the sky—“34.” The whole city watches with rapt attention as a woman appears beneath that number (people call her “The Paintress”). She rises, erases 34. And a new number appears in its place …

“33”

What comes next is absolutely harrowing. Because at that moment, everyone who is older than thirty-three … gommages.

They freaking die. Exploding into a thousand rose petals and floating away with the wind.

You watch as lovers are ripped from each other’s arms.

As small children cry while their parents cease to exist.

And as Sophie, the woman of Gustave’s dreams, vanishes right in front of him. And you watch as he tries to hold himself together. (Hint: he doesn’t do a great job.)

When the dust settles from this, the city recovers, and the Paintress disappears, you (the player) have only one thought on your mind:

“This [expletive] needs to GET GOT.” (I’m self-censoring myself because I know my editors will do it otherwise. Might as well save them the work).

The mission of these characters is clear: Paintress must die. The yearly Gommage must end. And this is where E33 does such a great job of manipulating its audience.

IT PUTS YOU SQUARE IN THE HEADSPACE OF ITS PROTAGONISTS.

From this moment onward, the player and the protagonists are aligned. We share the same objective. We both want the same thing.

In my experience, this is one of the hardest things for a creative narrative to achieve. Getting the reader (or player) to care. When I read screenplays these days, I ask myself this question a lot … Way more than half the time:

“Why do I care?”

And if your audience is asking themselves this quandary, it’s game over.

You, as the author, lost.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: It is not your reader’s job to find a reason to give a shit about your characters or story. It is YOUR job as the writer to provide them a reason. You need to make it so.

"Expedition 33" nails the landing here. It excels because it puts you directly into the shoes of its characters. And it (say it with me people) ...

MAKES YOU FEEL SOMETHING.

It spends an hour right at the start introducing you to Sophie and Gustave. It gives you glimpses of their relationship. Makes you want them to get together and rekindle what they once had.

And then it shows you things that you can’t NOT empathize with. Truly, the easiest way to invoke emotion in an audience is through kids and animals. Universally, these two things are pretty much beloved.

If the Gommage scene at the harbor leaves you emotionally untouched, I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe get your empathy firmware updated or something.

This game meets the moment right at the start and gives the player a deep-seated reason to take on this quest.

But it doesn’t stop there. It also …

MAKES A BOLD MOVE EARLIER THAN THE AUDIENCE EXPECTS IT.

It takes about 7-8 hours to get to this point. That’s roughly equivalent to a modern TV season with these protagonists. To this point, Gustave is clearly the leading man. While there are other expeditioners that I like in this game, it’s unquestionably Gustave who leads the way.

[LAST CHANCE TO STOP FOR SPOILERS]

...

... and then the writers fucking kill him.

I’m not going to tell you how, but again, it’s emotionally heart-wrenching. The person we bonded with most throughout this adventure suddenly being ripped away destroys your psyche. And you know what?

It’s an absolutely brilliant move by the storytellers here.

I remember with vivid clarity being on a notes call with a client back in 2020. She was on the verge of tears, frustrated and upset that a plot point in her TV pilot wasn’t working (this was over the course of multiple drafts I’d been coaching her through).

“Why, Spike?!” she cried, “Why can’t I do this?! I need to get the audience to care about this character before he dies, but I only have, like, 30 pages to do so when you factor in everything else that’s required here!”

She was interpreting the failed plot point as a direct reflection of her skill as a writer. But that wasn’t the case. Which is why I responded:

“Why?”

“Huh?” she said.

“Why must you kill him in episode one? Why can’t you kill him in episode three? That way, you’ll have 180 pages to bond the audience to him … not 60.”

And therein lies an important lesson. We, as writers, often see the cool moments of our stories. We know they’re coming, and we’re really, really excited to get the reader there, too.

Our excitement often turns to haste. We rush to get to these moments. But one of the critical elements of emotion is time. We need longevity with someone to bond us to them.

Are there some human relationships that spark immediately? Sure, but those are exceedingly rare. I would be willing to bet that most of the people you’re closest to, came that way over the course of months, years, and decades. Not weeks. It works the same way in fiction, too.

Shock isn’t emotion. But shock after investment?

That’s intentionally designed devastation. That’s high-quality writing. And killing Gustave before anyone expected it falls firmly into the latter category.

While I’d love to talk about this more, I’m way over my word limit here. But I’d highly suggest some follow-up reading of my previous article, "Rip Off the Plot Armor." It goes into the concept of killing your darlings, and using the relationship you’ve built with your protagonist and the reader to achieve maximum dramatic impact.

But for now, I’ll wrap up by saying this: Play "Expedition 33." It’s a legitimately fun game—one of the best I’ve played in years.

And it quietly hides a master class in storytelling beneath the HUD.

Godspeed y’all, and happy writing.

*Feature image Expedition 33 (Sandfall Interactive)