Review by: Mitch Dyer

Limbo is, in many ways, like a dream. When you begin, there’s no context as to where you are, how you got there, or why you’re there. When it ends, there’s an abrupt sensation of having woken up just as the explanatory closure presents itself. Because it’s a game about surrealism rather than story, there’s hardly a reason for a satisfactory conclusion in Limbo. And yet you can’t help but feel the need to force yourself back to sleep to see it through. As is usually the case, you can’t, and you’re left with memorable moments, a very personal interpretation, and a lingering desire to experience it again.

Limbo’s strange world is actually more akin to a nightmare than anything else. The opening moments show the silhouette of a little boy waking up, with his glowing white eyes serving as the only shade lighter than dark shades of grey or black. The darkness is gloomy and the near-silence of the atmospheric tones fill the world – whatever it is, a dream, a nightmare, or indeed the titular space between life and death – a haunting emptiness. From there, what you need to do – escape, or at least find safety – is straightforward. How you do this is where Limbo gets complicated.

Part of this stems from the realization that the safe havens you seek don’t actually exist. As I wandered through the first area’s forest, I stepped right into the teeth of a bear trap concealed by a layer of blowing grass. The boy’s legs lobbed in different directions from his body, and a small burst of black blood sprayed the air above. Videogame violence rarely upsets me, but this was the first of many uncomfortable, disturbing instances in Limbo. It’s one thing to kill a child in a game, but to do so in such a violent way and yet to disguise it with darkness makes it all the more unsettling.

As you navigate the child through the imaginative dreamscape, these events become increasingly violent, and even terrifying. They also grow increasingly devious as the boy’s dream – again, if that’s what this is – dives deeper into the unnatural. Predators stalk you early on, but as you progress you’ll use mind-bending techniques – whether you’re playing with physics or fending off a mobility-manipulating parasite – to solve the puzzles impeding your escape.

If we ignore everything else about Limbo, it still boils down to a damn fine puzzle game. It gives you all the pieces you need at every turn, but leaves you to your own devices to piece them together and determine how to use them. Simple tasks like knocking broken trees over to create bridges evolve into physics-based brainteasers. Solving every one of them is fulfilling because they’re so intelligently designed. I even enjoyed the crate and pressure switch puzzles because their clever twists presented a satisfying challenge beyond just pushing, pulling, running and jumping.