In Pentiment, Art Style is Everything
by Luke Condon (Gaming Editor)
I briefly mentioned Pentiment in my last article, citing it as an example of a game that does decision-making right, but after finishing it recently I realized that the game really deserves an article to itself. It’s not what you’d call conventional; Pentiment is a visual novel/adventure game hybrid in which players take control of a working artist by the name of Andreas Maler, who decides to put painting on the backburner in order to solve a series of murders instead. This isn’t because sleuthing is more lucrative, however, as the game is set in 16th century Europe and Andreas is actually doing quite well for himself (careers in the arts were more viable back then). Instead, Andreas’ foray into forensics comes about as a result of worldly circumstances out of his control, and indeed most of the game revolves around characters reacting to the ever-changing world around them. Pentiment goes through great pains to hammer home this theme of change: changing people, changing politics, changing places and above all changing ideas. To avoid spoilers, I’ll skip over the minute plot details and instead focus on one of Pentiment’s primary methods of conveying messages: its art style.
Pentiment’s graphics are, simply put, beautiful. Not beautiful in an 8K resolution, more-realistic-than-real-life kind of way, but in a ‘this looks like a talented monk sketched it hundreds of years ago’ kind of way. That’s the style Pentiment seeks not only to imitate, but surpass. Thankfully, the game’s art team weren’t constrained by the many hindrances medieval-era artists faced (pages being damaged, ink fading, dying of plague, that sort of thing), allowing them to combine 21st century graphical fidelity with 16th century manuscript-writing techniques and create a truly unique look.
The most obvious manifestation of this is in the design of backdrops; each area of the game features foreground elements against different painting-style backgrounds that are simple, yet elegant. The striking and vibrant features of both interior and exterior locations go a long way towards grounding players in the game’s historical setting. Even transitioning between areas adds to this effect; instead of tiresome loading screens, the game zooms out and plays a seamless page-turning animation to maintain immersion. Pentiment isn’t a ‘videogame-y’ title: it’s a piece of art, and it wants you to remember that.
These surroundings are populated by characters that are two-dimensional in design (although their personalities are anything but). Most match the manuscript-esque style of the rest of the game, although there are a few exceptions; Brother Senhat, a visiting Ethiopian priest, is illustrated in a manner that resembles 16th century art from that region, rather than a European style. Characters who are children have smooth and simple designs, whereas older ones are highly detailed and intricate, in order to better represent their more developed countenances. Despite being based on static illustrations, the personalities of Pentiment’s cast are wonderfully animated, with lively facial expressions and movements. Their speech is entirely text based, but characters are given their own ‘voice’ through the usage of different writing fonts for different people; for example, monks speak in an ornate religious calligraphy, whilst some literate townsfolk talk in the neat typeface of the newly developed printing press.
So why go through all this effort, rather than sticking to the safer pixel art style many modern indie games rely on, or even borrowing from the realism of big budget releases? Pentiment’s title gives some of it away. The word is defined by the game’s developers as ‘a reappearance in a painting of an original drawn or painted element which was painted over by the artist’; essentially, a change made during the painting process becoming visible. Time to get a little abstract; this is a reference to one of the artistic techniques used in the game, but it’s also a metaphor for Pentiment’s underlying messages of change. If Pentiment is the painting, then its very human stories from a bygone age are the elements that it makes visible. The game’s depictions of rebellions and religious reformations are only made real by transporting us into the unstable world of 16th century Europe through the usage of an authentic art style that is wildly different to what we usually see today. Pentiment’s art, and in turn its story, shows us that the only constant throughout history is change.
Or that’s what I think, at least. If you want to form your own take on Pentiment, you can try it out yourself through the Xbox Game pass subscription service available on both Xbox and PC, or by purchasing the standalone game on either platform.
