Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 (2025): The Review

Overview

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 didn’t just meet expectations, it shattered them, crafting something bold, beautiful, and utterly unexpected. It’s a genre-bending JRPG that feels at once comfortingly familiar and fearlessly new, blending emotional storytelling with breathtaking style. Even with a few minor flaws, its heart, ambition, and artistry shine through, leaving behind a lasting impression that cements it as a near-masterpiece, one that deserves to be celebrated for years to come.

Score: 10 out of 10

The Positives ✅

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 doesn’t just start strong, it starts with a hook straight to the gut. A world shattered by the Fracture, a goddess-like Paintress deciding who lives and who dies, and a band of humans too stubborn to give up. It’s bleak, yes, but the kind of bleak that’s beautiful to look at. The writing unravels slowly and confidently, giving you just enough to chew on before pulling the rug out from under you again. Every reveal lands with purpose, every mystery deepens the atmosphere. It’s one of those stories that feels ancient even though it’s brand new, like you’re stepping into a myth halfway through being told.

The characters seal the deal. Expedition 33 isn’t just another JRPG party, they’re tired, hopeful, and vividly human. Campfire scenes make you care in a way few games ever earn; you can practically smell the smoke as they argue, laugh, and pick each other up after every disaster. The voice acting is pitch-perfect: you hear exhaustion, fear, and warmth in equal measure. Even the quieter scenes hum with emotional honesty. It’s all grounded and heartbreakingly believable, especially in a world that keeps telling everyone to give up.

Then there’s the gameplay. Turn-based combat, but make it adrenaline. Clair Obscur fuses strategic menus with real-time reflexes, dodges, parries, QTEs, so that you’re constantly reacting, thinking, and sweating through every turn. You don’t just pick “attack” and wait; you engage. The result is a system that feels alive, constantly asking you to earn every victory. Add to that the buildcrafting freedom of Pictos and Luminas, gear that lets you reshape your party however you want, and the whole thing turns into an addictive playground. Every character feels customizable, every encounter feels personal, and the game respects your time by giving fast, meaningful progression instead of grinding for hours.

And oh man, the presentation. This game is art. Its vision of decaying Belle Époque France is breathtaking, crumbling mansions, bleeding skylines, and ruins painted with impossible light. Every region feels curated, not designed, and I lost count of how many times I stopped mid-journey just to stare. The soundtrack ties everything together with sweeping orchestral scores that shift and breathe with what’s happening onscreen. There’s no filler here, just pure atmosphere. It’s haunting, cinematic, and cohesive in a way that makes you wonder how the hell this thing costs only $49.99.

The Negatives ⚠️

Even masterpieces have cracks, and Clair Obscur’s are small but noticeable. The most divisive part is the ending. Without spoiling anything, the final stretch leans heavy on ambiguity. It’s bold, even poetic, but not everyone’s going to love it. Some will call it profound, others unfinished. It opens up space for interpretation, and, sure, maybe a few plot-hole debates, that leave the story’s aftertaste a little more bittersweet than conclusive.

The other sore spot is the pacing of information. The game thrives on mystery, but it can sometimes feel like it’s playing keep-away with the audience. You’ll spend long stretches wondering why something’s happening before the story finally lets you in on the secret. When it works, it’s mesmerizing; when it doesn’t, it can be tiring. The same goes for combat density, the system itself is stellar, but the sheer number of encounters can test your patience. Sometimes you just want to push forward and the game insists on one more fight, one more gauntlet. It never drags enough to ruin the rhythm, but it definitely flirts with overkill.

And then there’s the menu interface, which, honestly, is just fine. Not bad, not broken, just oddly plain next to a game that otherwise looks and sounds like a fever-dream masterpiece. It’s the one piece of design that feels more “functional” than “beautiful,” which stands out precisely because everything else is so polished. These issues never derail the experience, but they keep the game from hitting that elusive flawless label.

The Experience 🎮

Playing Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 feels like wandering through a painting that keeps breathing back at you. It’s emotional, cinematic, and drenched in atmosphere, the kind of game where every new area feels like the last page of a storybook someone tore in half. You fight, you travel, you rest at camp, and somewhere along the way, you stop thinking about stats or strategy. You start feeling the weight of the journey. You live it.

The rhythm of the game is intoxicating: intense combat followed by quiet reflection, destruction followed by beauty. You move through places that feel ancient and personal, each one whispering fragments of a world that refuses to die. Every boss, every campfire, every conversation feeds into this looping sense of motion, forward, always forward, and by the end, it feels less like you beat a game and more like you survived one.

When the credits rolled, I didn’t feel finished. I felt haunted. The music lingered, the imagery stuck, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what it all meant. That’s the mark of something special. Clair Obscur isn’t just a turn-based RPG with new tricks; it’s a rare blend of mechanical brilliance and emotional storytelling that reminds you why games can be art in the first place.

For $49.99, it’s an absurd deal. For what it gives, it’s an unforgettable experience. You’ll fight, you’ll think, you’ll stare at the screen in awe, and you’ll probably sit in silence for a bit when it’s all over.

This isn’t just another good JRPG. This is the one that makes all the others feel like sketches.