It took me a long time to really collect my thoughts on Clair Obscur: Expedition 33.
This is the kind of game that expands the longer you sit with it. A world that keeps nudging you back. Just one more zone, one more secret, one more detour before you go do the main thing. And yet, for as much as it pulled me sideways, it rarely pulled me forward. I never felt that overwhelming need to actually finish the story.
So what was it?
Was I trying to savor the experience? Was I checked out? Was I invested, just not in the way the game wanted me to be? Or did my brain just decide this was the exact moment to embrace chaos?
Probably not that last one. Hopefully.
Before we get too far, this review will be mostly spoiler free, with only light touches on early Act One. Nothing that should ruin the experience, but consider yourself warned.
Bienvenue à Lumiere
You begin as Gustave—a mecha-armed Frenchman who looks like he hasn’t had a peaceful thought in years. Within minutes, he meets Maelle, who quickly settles into that little sister or surrogate daughter role, and together they take off across the rooftops of Lumiere.
And yes, Lumiere is absolutely “Not Paris.”
The Eiffel Tower looms in the background, the architecture screams French elegance, but something is just slightly off. The city exists on its own island, cut off from the mainland after a mysterious event known as The Fracture, and that separation hangs over everything you do.
Then there’s the Gommage.
Once a year, a number ticks down, and everyone of that age is simply erased. No warning, no buildup—just gone. This year, that number is 33. It’s a horrifying concept, delivered with just enough restraint to let your imagination fill in the blanks, and before you even have time to sit with it, the survivors move forward the only way they know how. They send an Expedition across the sea, chasing the faint hope that maybe this time, they can break the cycle.
Naturally, everything goes horribly wrong.
Welcome to the Continent (You’re Already Dead)
The moment Expedition 33 reaches the mainland, the entire operation collapses. A cane-wielding man named Renoir shows up and dismantles what little hope they had with alarming ease, turning what should have been a mission into a massacre.
What follows is chaos.
A handful of survivors scatter, and Gustave is lucky enough to count himself among them. He reconnects with another Expeditioner, Lune, who initially comes across as a rule-following, note-taking narc of the highest order, but over time grows into a genuinely likable and grounded presence. With no real plan beyond finding Maelle, Gustave pushes forward into the unknown, despite Lune’s better judgment.
That opening stretch is genuinely excellent. The pacing, the cinematography, and especially the sound design all come together to create this immediate sense that you are completely outmatched. The game doesn’t need to tell you that you’re in trouble—it lets you feel it.
Turn-Based…Kind Of
At its core, Expedition 33 is a turn-based RPG, but it refuses to stay confined within that structure. You still have your standard toolkit with staples like basic attacks, abilities, and items, but layered on top is a mechanic called Free Fire, which allows you to manually aim and shoot enemies during your turn.
It sounds like a gimmick until you actually use it.
Enemy design leans into this in clever ways, forcing you to think beyond just selecting the strongest attack. There are encounters where positioning and precision matter just as much as raw damage. The Lampmaster is a perfect example, carrying glowing lamps on its back that need to be shot out before its turn. If you ignore them, you’re not just taking damage—you’re inviting punishment.
But every shot costs an action point, and that’s where the tension comes in. You can’t just fire away without thinking, because every missed shot is a wasted opportunity. Those same points could have gone toward a stronger ability, or been saved for a more impactful turn later. It creates this constant push and pull between control and efficiency, where even a small mistake can snowball into a bad situation.
Defense Is Where the Game Shines
If the offensive systems add depth, the defensive systems add urgency.
Enemy attacks aren’t passive, and you’re expected to engage with them in real time. You can dodge to avoid damage, which is forgiving enough to get you through most encounters, or you can attempt to parry, which requires tighter timing but offers significantly better rewards.
A successful parry restores action points and opens the door for counterattacks, and if you manage to land every parry in a sequence, you can completely swing the momentum of a fight in your favor. It’s one of those systems that feels risky at first, but once it clicks, it becomes hard to ignore.
On top of that, there’s a stagger system tied to a yellow bar beneath enemy health. As you build it up through consistent damage, you can eventually break an enemy’s stance, leaving them stunned and vulnerable to increased damage. It’s a simple mechanic on paper, but in practice it gives you these brief, satisfying windows where everything lines up and you get to unload.
Systems on Systems (And Then Some Fashion)
Like any good RPG, there’s a stat system driving everything behind the scenes, but it’s straightforward enough that you don’t have to overthink it. Health, damage, speed, defense, and critical chance all behave exactly how you’d expect, which makes it easy to understand what you’re building toward.
Where things start to layer is in how those stats interact with everything else. Weapons don’t just scale differently—they unlock additional perks as they level, subtly shifting how a character plays. Abilities can be tailored to fit specific strategies, and then you have Pictos, which act as equippable modifiers that further customize your build. If you want to go deeper, Lumina allows you to expand how many of those Pictos you can use, at the cost of managing limited resources.
In theory, it’s a system that encourages experimentation, and for a while, it absolutely does. But over time, certain builds start to stand out more than others. Burn, in particular, becomes hard to ignore once you see how effective it can be. You can still branch out and try different approaches, but there’s a noticeable gravitational pull toward what works best.
And then, of course, there’s the most important system of all—the ability to change outfits. Because if you’re going to spend dozens of hours in a world like this, you might as well look the part. And yes, that absolutely includes leaning all the way into the most aggressively French aesthetic possible.
A World That Rewards Curiosity
The Continent itself is where Expedition 33 truly shines. It’s not just a backdrop for the story, it feels lived in, layered with the remnants of those who came before you.
You’ll come across flags marking where past Expeditions made their stand, journals left behind by those who didn’t survive, and small details that slowly piece together what this world actually is. Along the way, you’ll meet Gestrals, who have carved out their own strange existence through craftsmanship and defense, and Nevrons, who aren’t always as straightforward as the term “enemy” would suggest.
As your journey continues, your party grows, your camp expands, and what started as a desperate survival story gradually turns into something closer to a full ensemble adventure.
It’s the kind of world that constantly gives you a reason to explore, even when the main story isn’t pulling you forward. And honestly, that’s both a strength and a weakness.
Where It Starts to Crack
Because for as much as the game gets right, there are moments where it stumbles.
Performance can be inconsistent, with noticeable frame drops in certain areas and occasional visual hiccups that break immersion just enough to remind you that you’re playing a game. Facial animations, in particular, don’t always hold up under closer inspection, which can undercut some of the more emotional scenes.
The audio presents a similar contradiction. The music is exceptional, easily one of the standout elements of the entire experience, but the dialogue mix doesn’t always keep up. Voices can feel uneven or get lost beneath everything else, forcing you to adjust settings more than you’d expect.
Difficulty also spikes in ways that can feel abrupt, especially in optional content. It’s the kind of challenge that some players will appreciate, but if you’re the type who feels compelled to clear everything, it can cross the line from satisfying to exhausting.
And while the build systems offer flexibility, they don’t always offer balance. Once you find something that works exceptionally well, it becomes harder to justify stepping away from it, which can flatten the sense of experimentation over time.
The Story That Didn’t Quite Hook Me
This is where things get complicated.
Because the story is undeniably interesting. It’s unique, ambitious, and filled with ideas that you don’t see explored very often. There are moments where it genuinely shines, delivering emotional beats and character interactions that stick with you.
But it’s also dense in a way that doesn’t always translate cleanly into gameplay. There were stretches where I found myself drifting, not because I didn’t care, but because the delivery didn’t always keep me engaged. At times, it feels like a story that might have benefited from a more controlled format, something closer to a film where pacing and focus could be tightened.
That said, it’s not a failure by any means. There’s humor woven throughout, the characters have real personality, and when the story lands, it lands hard. It just doesn’t always maintain that momentum.
Final Thoughts
Despite everything, the performance hiccups, the balance issues, the uneven storytelling, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 is still something special.
The art direction is mesmerizing. The music is unforgettable. The gameplay finds ways to stay engaging even within a sometimes samey, familiar framework.
But more than anything, it’s the world that sticks with you.
This is a game that invites you to exist within it, to wander, to explore, and to lose track of time in the best possible way. And maybe that’s why I never felt rushed to finish the story: because I didn’t want to leave.

And that’s what ultimately earns Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 a Top Shelf Game Award. Not because it’s perfect, but because what it does well lingers far longer than its flaws. A flawed masterpiece that earns its place among the most memorable games of the decade.



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