PEGBRJE: The Testimony of Trixie Glimmer Smith and Bonbon
One’s got a long name. The other doesn’t. Also somehow, again, both games have similar themes? How do I get away with this.
The Testimony of of Trixie Glimmer Smith is a visual novel by Digital Poppy, a solo dev who’s done quite a few narrative titles in this universe created and a few others. You follow the literal testimony of Trixie Glimmer Smith (‘who woulda guessed?’) as she recounts the events of the novel to the faculty in the hopes that they give her an extension, and probably also just cut her some slack. The actual events begin with her roommate Nikita demanding that she search for a page of the mythical and cursed play known was ‘The King In Yellow’, and from there she ventures into town, following clues and meeting new friends as she uncovers disturbing truths about the book and the world she lives in.
The plot format is what caught my eye instantly: there are many times where the game breaks into ‘testimony mode’ as I fondly called it, where the text layers on top of the screen. It addresses the faculty more directly than any other part in the game, and reads almost as an interrogated witness recalling specific details in the hopes that the interrogator can catch the culprit, whomever that may be in this analogy. The choices made reflect this, as they are all past tense to be read as if this had all already happened, and are not repeated by Trixie’s thoughts at all. The conversations are also all present tense to differentiate between what Trixie is writing to the faculty, and what she was saying at the time. It feels a little odd at first to read, but it adds a layer of recollection and mystery that gets abused later on with the game’s unique mechanic in Insight. Just like Bloodborne (which I’m tentative to say it was the inspiration for this idea), Insight passively affects how reliable Trixie’s thoughts and views are. We as players are privy to exactly how much insight we’ve gained or lost throughout, but it can be interpreted via the screen becoming distorted or words becoming a little oddly phrased. It also opens up the game to numerous playthroughs, as choices can not only affect which thread of the plot you enter but also how much insight can alter what Trixie’s perception of reality is.
The writing and characters are also interesting for lack of a better term. Everything feels almost like a roller coaster of information, as there are times where exposition seemingly comes out of nowhere or interjections just happen for reasons I can’t understand, and then there are other times that I feel I lack the critical information and then everything clicks. The style of writing is something I’m not unfamiliar with, and can confidently state that it isn’t exactly my cup of tea. However, just like the roller coaster there were also dozens of highlight moments I could recall easily that I couldn’t stop but fall in love. Specifically Heidi. I won’t spoil anything, but she’s so over the top I love her.
Mentioning the characters, The Testimony does something I wish more games would do — character specific motifs. Each character you come across in game has their own motif or instrument similar to Peter and the Wolf that sets the tone of the character instantly. Whether it be Heidi’s hard guitar riffs, Trixie’s low-lying clarinet or LeRose’s obviously French accordion, each character’s backstory and personality are reinforced by the instruments that change the background music. I’ve seen this done in a few game titles such as Stories: Path of Destinies, and not only is an audio system that I adore working with, but love playing games that utilize them. It adds character and instant recognition to characters without just relying on the art and writing, and bolsters the visual aesthetic that the writer goes for.
The Testimony of Trixie Glimmer Smith (or TGS as I started calling her over time) handles a lot of different themes in a form of chaotic cohesion that doesn’t happen often. With dozens of blunt satirical references to social issues happening in our world today to bizarre horror hijinks, there’s a lot to parse through and dozens of paths to play through. The writing may turn some players off in its presentation, but there are dozens more that enjoy this style of writing as well. If you’re curious about the title, there’s a free demo to the prequel available on the itch.io page, which as always is linked below. Admittedly I didn’t play it (which I’m somewhat regretting with how many references seem to be made at times), but at a glance the writing looks to be relatively similar and should give a good indication of TGS. Happy trails, and hopefully the chaos of the cursed play doesn’t swallow you whole.
Bonbon is a horror game that will terrorize my nightmares made by Aetheric Games, a solo indie dev out of the UK with frequent collaborators. You take the place of a small child growing up in what appears to be the mid 80s UK, and your mission is simple: play. Incidentally, after a bit of playing the mother calls you inside, and the cleanup begins. There’s no timer, so continue playing to your hearts content, but eventually the cleaning must commence, and that’s when the horror begins. I wish I meant the horrors of cleaning.
Bonbon is a game that explores the horrors that plague children due to their wild imaginations. We’ve all had something we were terrified of that didn’t really make sense — stuffed animals that looked at us funny, a certain tree, the sofa. All mundane things to those of us boring adults, but to a child these things can become much more vivid. The child of this game is haunted by one such horror, one that follows them as they clean up or eat or sleep. The simple objects that are played with seem normal enough, but to a child they could be all real people, and they are addressed as such in a garbled mess of sounds and dialects that unnerve me to the core. As fast as they come, the screen returns to normal and the monochromatic filter fades, leaving the world to its natural look once again. Yet there’s an unnerving feeling that there is something always around the corner, the lighting specifically keeping some areas of the room dark to ensure that the child knows that they can’t see everything.
I wish I could say more, but Bonbon is barely 30 minutes long. It’s an experimental viewport of how children view objects through their own imaginations and understandings, but wraps itself up quite quickly. There’s a hidden tone amongst the parents as well, a domestic relationship that a child cannot understand and therefore cannot be understood due to the limited capability the child has. To those playing, it seems relatively simple, but the child knows nothing of it and instead lets it seemingly manifest as their imagination and subsequently run rampant.
This is all coming from someone that hates horror. I still don’t like this game on that principle alone, I get scared way too easily. But to have my own wild imagination turned on me in this way feels almost like a betrayal. If you are the type of person that gets kicks and lives for the thrill of the uncomfortable and the horror, Bonbon is a good choice to play right before bed on Hallowe’en. I won’t, and I now need to check under my bed again for that monster I thought I destroyed by growing up. Thanks, Aetheric.
