Sunset Reviews
Taken slowly, Sunset is a beautiful, fascinating experience.
There are moments of humour (you can, if you so choose, arrange Ortega's record collection by genre and title) and in time both you and your character grow attached to this unseen man whom you serve. The game elegantly communicates a very particular kind of relationship in the period world, in all of its power-dynamics and complexity. Some will inevitably find the lack of formal puzzles, collectibles or many of the other attributes of most contemporary video games off-putting. But Sunset, despite its minimalism, is a rare treat. It tells a story about revolution via the reflection of domesticity, an unusual and thrilling use of the video game medium, and one that expands both its scope and its definition.
Sunset's themes, setting, and plot are plenty interesting, but the player's interaction with them feels incongruous.
The story is fascinating, but the gameplay quickly becomes humdrum and the technical problems are extremely frustrating
Sunset is a creative, powerful story of personal, political, and social conflict.
Sunset puts players in the middle of a war from an entirely unique perspective, trapping players in a beautiful yet tense apartment that they need to clean every day.
The entire world of Sunset is masterfully crafted in every way. The art style is gorgeous, with the apartment bathed in the light of the setting sun every day.
Sunset is a wonderfully atmospheric slow burner and a valuable addition to a medium where the predominant approach to conflict is to just give you a big old gun and invite you to get stuck in.
"Sunset" feels like a beautiful culmination of their vision, a loving attempt to turn the idea of private interiors into shareable spaces.
Sunset struggles with pacing, technical performance (movement is a tad wonky and it can run sluggish), and a disconnect between how its lead is written and, occasionally, what she does, player depending. The reduction of work to single click means the year's worth of date title cards, going up the elevator, and going down at sunset feels more monotonous than housekeeping. The music and colors are effective at setting mood, though, and there are instances of emotional resonance, strong writing and voice acting. Shorter, more tightly strung, Sunset's character study set against the revolutionary backdrop would've shone brighter, but as is it still leaves you enough to consider and a calendar to change.
Tale of Tales' first-person exploration game touches on interesting concepts and explores a novel style of play, yet fails to fulfill its potential
It's a unique take on the war-based theme, and will evoke your inner voyeur, dazzling in its moments of exposition as well as its suggestive junctures.
Its most tangible accomplishment is how it responds when your priorities clash and intermingle with those of the playable character.
Sunset is a gift, an all too rare kind of game that focuses on people loving and hurting in mundane but almost unbearable ways. I will return to Ortega's penthouse in San Bavón soon, I imagine; if not in person, than in fond remembrance. It is, after all, the home I never knew I had.
Sunset survives as the antithesis of contemporary narrative construction, but lacks the confidence and vitality to thrive inside of its admirable periphery. It's all support with little regard for structure.
What starts out as merely unpacking boxes, very quickly begins to feel like more of a private peek into someone's life.
Sunset certainly has its niggles, and is rather slow and plodding compared to other indie titles, but this only slightly detracts from some impressive narrative accomplishments.
A functional narrative that needed a little subtlety
It's held down by lacklustre writing, terribly boring gameplay, and even a pretty shoddy technical performance. Maybe there's a reason Sunset has shut the blinds for Tale of Tales.
Though Sunset delights in its complexity, it offers no answers to the friction that results from the intersection of its contrasts. The game consciously places itself at the liminal moment between two points: pure aesthetics and social commitment, wealth and poverty, night and day.