Ib

This review contains spoilers for Ib.

The part that always got me about Ib was the feeling of never truly being alone. Even when the beginning of the gallery had us alone, it always felt like something was there. Something is there, as you almost immediately come to find. Yet even in the still moments where nothing moved or felt alive, I was constantly on edge for the next thing to chase me, spit at me, speak to me. This fear of the inanimate waiting for just the right moment to strike, to show their sentience, juxtaposed with the need to cling to the only other human we found was the perfect set up for Mary.

But even the first time I played the game, knowing nothing about it other than it'd just been translated and people were fawning over the characters, I knew something was off. Garry felt real, alive (though nearly dead) from the very moment he first showed up and joined us. (Oh boy, did I treasure the E to talk button for Garry when the remake released...) Mary was different. From the very first moment, she was too bright and alive to really be alive.

Yet, this game had set a very strong expectation that the dangerous things in the gallery rarely spoke. Those that did were only dangerous if you were careless (the hungry lips and the painting who wanted flowers, of course), and were affixed to their place in the gallery. Mary? No, no matter how odd she felt to me, there was no way that she was one of these dangerous creations.

Ib masterfully set expectations and played with them, leaving the reveal that Mary herself was a piece of art being that more terrifying and shocking...especially after getting time to grow even a little attached to her. Even to this day, I feel guilty every time I burn her painting.