It’s despelote. I wanted to get that out of the way first and foremost, lest I be accused of clickbaiting and burying the lede. Which would be fair, of course, because I did. If I put the name of the game in the title, you probably wouldn’t have clicked on it. That’s just how the human brain works. I’m also anticipating a slew of YouTube videos with this same title covering despelote in upcoming years, so I figured I could head a few of those off here.
For about a week, it seemed like everyone in the online gaming sphere was talking about despelote. It wasn’t just the usual praise and criticisms that come with a game’s release, this was something else. despelote spawned some of the best games writing in years from multiple talented journalists, and it’s made me a bit tentative to want to discuss the game myself. I didn’t know what else to bring to the conversation, other than the fact that you should buy despelote.
I keep thinking about the Folding Ideas video where Dan Olson, when speaking about Pink Floyd’s The Wall, says “Basically it’s impossible to engage with something like The Wall, even sarcastically or disingenuously, without leaving a lot of yourself on the table as a result.” The game despelote has this effect as well. Whether you love it, hate it, find it boring, slow, uninteresting, whatever emotions it sparks in you, part of that is what you brought on the way in. despelote just shows it to you.
There’s one particular scene in despelote that I have thought about every single day since I played it. You are out with your mother running some afternoon errands. On televisions in store windows, a football (soccer) match causes some people to stop and observe. Your mother makes small talk with another adult. Your view is a bit obscured for a while, since you have to hold her hand while walking down the street.
I’m far from the first person to say this (as evidenced by the title of this YouTube video from Human Computer posted over two weeks ago) but it’s worth repeating that despelote plays like a memory feels. My mother took me to the middle of the park, sat me down on a bench, told me not to move, and said “Wait right here, I have to go take care of something. I’ll be back at 6:30.” I looked down at my watch. It was 4:02. When I looked up, she was already leaving.
For whatever societal reasons, this is something that was really common back when I was a child and no longer is today. I would go outside with my bicycle at noon and not come back until dark. It was fine. As a parent, looking back, I like to think I would probably have done the same then, but I wouldn’t now. Part of that is because we live much closer to busy streets than I did back then, but there’s other reasons. We trust people less now.
Mom said not to get off the bench. I looked at my watch again. It was still 4:02. This is a video game. Do I have to get off the bench? Is this a moral choice? Maybe I’ll just wait a few minutes. I check the watch. It’s still 4:02. This is agonizing. Maybe I need to get up to make the time pass. But mom said not to get off the bench.
If I was really there, would I get off the bench? An hour and a half is a long time. I liked to listen to my parents, to a point, but I wasn’t ever someone who didn’t try to get away with a little bit of nonsense when no one was looking. That rebellious streak was always there, even if it often amounted to reading books under bedsheets with a flashlight after midnight. I probably would get off the bench at least a little, just to prove a point.
I stood up, looked around, then sat back down. My mom didn’t appear out of the bushes to scold me. I looked at my watch. It was 4:04. I stood up again and started to wander around the park, not crossing the street, never getting out of view of the bench, just looking around. At 4:15, I went back to the bench and sat down. I sat there for five minutes, then got up again and went to go check the score on the nearby televisions. A few other people gathered and we watched together for a brief period of time.
On the way back to the bench, I spotted a group of kids kicking a football (soccer ball) around. I looked at my watch. It was 5:07. There was still some time, unless mom came back early. I looked around to see if that was likely, but she was just as gone as she had been. I ran over to the kids and joined their game.
I kept checking my watch every few minutes the entire time. I could feel the game (despelote itself, I mean) pulling me farther and farther away from the bench. I didn’t want to disappoint my mom, though, and I resisted. I abandoned the game early, left the kids I was playing with, and sat back down earlier than I needed to.
I probably would have handled this sequence differently if I was playing it at 13, 16, 20 years old. I probably would have barely touched the bench at all, doing everything I possibly could to explore the boundaries of the game world. Playing despelote now, in my 30s and with multiple kids myself, I was determined to be there when my mom returned. I know firsthand how scared she might become if I wasn’t. Keeping her happy was more important than playing ball with strangers.
In the game, my mom showed up and we walked home. I was there waiting for her, and she didn’t ask what happened while she was gone. She probably knew I didn’t just sit there for two and a half hours, and that’s okay. I was there when she needed me to be. How many times during my life was that not the case? How many times did I not even notice terrifying my parents? How many times did I put them through the fear of not knowing what happened to their child without me even knowing it?
That’s what I mean when I say, to paraphrase a previous point, you can’t engage with despelote without exposing part of yourself in the process. It’s a deeply personal, private experience that is also incredibly universal. Developed by Julián Cordero and Sebastian Valbuena, set in Quito, Ecuador in 2001, and animated in a unique-yet-instantly recognizable art style, despelote deserves to be played by as many people as possible.
It’s not going to be for everyone. This is an “experience” like Before Your Eyes more than it is a football game like FIFA. Don’t expect tens of hours of intensive gameplay – to quote directly from despelote’s website, this is a “slice-of-life adventure about childhood… a soccer game about people.” It’s short, exquisite, and intensely memorable. You should buy despelote.
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