A person's tolerance for Harold Halibut is going to depend on how much mileage they get out of slower games where inhabiting the space and conversations are the key focus, rather than anything resembling moment to moment gameplay.

I don't blame anyone who doesn't get on with that or think that any single approach is objectively better or worse, but I was drawn in by the game's beautiful handcrafted aesthetic and its hold on me never really faltered throughout the runtime. The ship you live on is full of memorable characters with their own unique idiosyncrasies, all helped along by a strong voice work - for Harold specifically there's a great balance between goofy ignorance and sentimentality, and that personality is probably one of the major factors that kept me going.

But I must emphasise again that this is a very slow game and there are quirks that come with that - sometimes your movement speed is slowed to a crawl as you'e made to follow another character, sometimes the dialogue goes on a little longer than expected, and this will put some people off. Thankfully for me, I used that time to take in the absolutely gorgeous world, animation and the small details dotted around all the locations you visit.

I really, really wanted to enjoy Harold Halibut more than I did. Harold, our protagonist, is a fish out of water: an autistic-coded janitor slash jack-of-all-trades, whose daily grind involves doing various tasks for the mostly warm but slightly stuck up crew of scientists and venture capitalists aboard the marooned spaceship, The Fedora. The game is underwater, so there's the expected Bioshock-esque critique of capitalism run riot, presented with a more dry, wry sense of humor. The game makes a strong first impression, with several mysteries piling up alongside the slow reveal of this artful, beautiful world. I particularly loved how you get around on The Fedora via a salmon cannon that shoots the people from hub to hub (for a nominal fee, of course).

And, c'mon, the art! I know it's not the most technical game running under the hood, but this game is a sight to behold. Each interior is handcrafted and rich with detail, but then digitalized and animated so that the puppetry has no strings. Even though the gameplay is light, I found myself mashing the trigger on the controller to zoom into each interior and soak in as much of the ambiance as I could. The soundtrack, too, is subtle but evocative, fading in and out when the player enters certain locations. Tremendous stuff.

During its introductory moments, I thought this game might be another Night in the Woods-esque narrative game, one that took a story and set it across many days so that you could build relationships and be rewarded for meandering from the main task routes at every turn. And, for a while, it was. I would get invited to dinner by the former pilot, or pore over love letters from decades past with the postman. And each character, lovingly designed and voice acted, always had something to say about life's meaning, or the dulling effect of daily jobs (and the threat of debtor's prison) in an alien, water-logged world.

But my return visits to the various wings of The Fedora yielded less and less surprise, or even change, as the days went on. By midgame, Harold had stumbled upon a seemingly huge reveal, with widespread implications for him, his shipmates--maybe even the human race--yet our daily tasks consisted of slow runs to the pharmacy with almost no diversity of content. It felt like we were being forced to play out an extended montage, a pain that only sharpened once the weeklong scenario ended with a literal montage.

Repetition in videogames is part of the act, of course. It can be gameplay, the ritualistic dance of combat that break up FPS campaigns, or the return trips of roguelites that build repetitiveness into their DNA to build familiarity and as a means of player progression. But Harold Halibut seems to say..."God, isn't capitalist bureaucracy boring and awful?" Yes, it is. And it's especially boring and awful when it's hammered home in a world as lush and gorgeous as Harold Halibut.

There is a payoff, and the narrative eventually does get going. But the jarring pace and tonal shifts never really go away.

I'm glad this game exists. And it's clear that there's a huge amount of work that's gone into this game and realizing its vision. Unfortunately, Harold Halibut isn't able to successfully navigate the choppy waters separating sincerity and comedy, and ends up splitting the two in a way that challenged me to go on.

In the end, Harold Halibut is way more niche than you might expect. Its messages on capitalism, and humanity's tendency toward resource drain, even in the face of assured calamity, are all vital and integrated well into the story. I just wish the game, like its main character, was a little more self-assured.

Me esperaba un juego bonito y simple, que me entretuviera un rato y poco más, pero me ha acabado sorprendiendo muchísimo. Me alegra mucho haberle dado una oportunidad y terminarlo.

Me han encantado los personajes y sus diálogos. El trabajo de doblaje es genial, y me he sentido súper inmerso en el universo que han creado. La historia, aunque tampoco sea una locura, también me ha gustado mucho. Me he sentido en mi salsa durante todo el juego.

También tiene sus problemillas. Si no conectas mucho con el juego te va a acabar pareciendo aburridísimo: es muy lento y se toma su tiempo para construir su mundo. Normalmente "no pasa nada importante", y si esperas que te bombardee con estímulos y dopamina lo llevas claro. En mi opinión, debería haber durado un poco menos y quizá condensar el contenido en menos capítulos, pero personalmente no me importó mucho.

Creo que Harold Halibut no es un juego para todo el mundo, ni tampoco para cualquier momento. Tienes que tener ganas de meterte en un universo a fuego lento, donde quizá vas a leer algún que otro diálogo "sin importancia", en el que conoces algo sobre un personaje terciario. En cualquier otro juego me habría sentido impaciente, pero este tiene algo que me mantuvo enganchado desde el primer minuto. Y ha merecido completamente la pena.

Harold Halibut is a strange, unique, and also heart-warming experience that unfortunately isn't going to be everyone's flavor. "Game" might even be a strong word for Harold Halibut -- there's very little in the way of mechanical friction for the player; no real puzzles, challenges, or other elements you might expect from an "adventure game". Instead, Harold Halibut presents a quirky cast of characters living aboard a crashed, underwater spaceship-city and invites you to intimately get to know their lives, their routines, their thoughts, fears, and everything in between. If you give this one a shot and aren't intrigued by the world within the first hour, I'll be honest: bounce off it. You're not likely to find much to love here.

That IS Harold Halibut, though. The game revolves entirely around running here and there, helping neighbors and friends by doing odd-jobs or delivering messages, and getting to build up relationships with the cast. Sometimes, that's enjoyable enough. The art direction of the game frankly incredible, the soundtrack is great, the animations and acting are solid and feels like you're watching a real claymation film -- most of the time I was fully engaged. Sometimes it drags, though. The titular Harold, being a quite plain guy, often does plain, boring things; understandable that the player will too, to better understand him and the grievances he comes to express in the story. However, when you're nearing double-digits in play time and still running back-and-forth, back-and-forth to initiate a chat with a character 3 loading screens away, it starts getting old. Not to mention there are multiple instances where the game forcibly takes away your ability to run, or even in one scene towards the end, makes you move in slow motion, which only compounds how slow things feel sometimes.

All-in-all I liked Harold Halibut quite a bit, and even had a melancholy feeling when it ended, having to say goodbye to a cast of characters I felt like I had grown to know personally. It's hard to shake the feeling, however, that there could have been more use of the video game medium here, and a bit less of the running around the game has you do most of the time.