Cheeesyy
In November 2017, while browsing the internet using my dad's computer, I discovered a small game on itch.io: a freeware dating sim called Doki Doki Literature Club! At that time, I was an ignorant, otaku kid who wanted to avoid math homework at all costs, so I decided to check it out that afternoon. It looked cute and was free, so I figured there was no harm.
Well, if you didn't already know that Doki Doki Literature Club Plus! is now marketed as a psychological horror game, you can probably guess how that afternoon turned out.
Why mention this? Because, despite my best efforts to reevaluate Plus with a new perspective, that November afternoon is deeply intertwined with my opinion of the game. Before it became a controversial western Visual Novel, before appearing in countless Let's Plays and Game Theory videos, before spawning marketable merchandise you could find in stores, it was just a subversive freeware horror game I was completely fascinated by. The lack of discussion about DDLC at the time meant that the glitch horror and metafiction elements caught me completely off guard. All its Creepypasta-tier parlor tricks and fourth-wall-breaking meta-puzzles worked wonders on me, as I had never encountered that kind of storytelling in games before. Discovering how to finish Act 3 was mind-blowing. I didn't even know games could do things like that!
But as I write this, seven years have passed, and a lot has changed since then: my interests have evolved, I am a different person now, and I have explored many other genres and experiences. Even back then, DDLC was already outdated compared to games like Eversion, Irusu Syndrome, and You & Me & Her: A Love Story. Now, glitch and meta-horror have become saturated storytelling brands on the internet. The conversations around it and its legacy are now heavy with both success and controversy. Revisiting it after so long, I worried that seeing it with fresh eyes would retroactively ruin the experience, like finally beating your dad in basketball and realizing he was never that good, you were just inexperienced.
In a way, it was ruined. The scares that once surprised me now don't work, both because I expected them and because the jump scares and glitch effects now seem juvenile and cliché. The cynicism in the text is more apparent, with its sly jabs at "anime and dating-sim tropes" taking on a more overtly cynical tone considering the game's origins. It was born out of Salvato's love-hate relationship with slice-of-life anime, and the game's parody aspect generalizes all visual novels as dating sims, showing a level of ignorance and contempt for its own medium and history. This trend of developers holding contempt for their own medium and inspirations isn't new (see: Necrobarista, YiiK), but ironically, DDLC shines most when indulging in the tropes it mocks.
Despite the supposed horror elements being central to both the marketing and cultural legacy of the game, DDLC excels most as a pastiche Visual Novel. Even if the main girls fall into the generic trope of "cute broken girl for generic MC to fix via high school romance," the main cast and their struggles are relatable, and Sayori's depiction of depression resonated deeply with me and many others (even if Yuri's self-harm is treated more exploitatively). Plus' new side stories, which remove the horror elements and focus on more realistic, slice-of-life stories about communication and mental illness treated with tact, become engaging and heartwarming in a way that, ironically, aligns with what the base storyline once sought to criticize.
However, separating my personal experience, I wouldn't recommend DDLC+. Its horror is now weak and outdated, and since that’s the angle the game is marketed with and most known for, it’s hard to enjoy it from that perspective. It’s confused about what it wants to be, and even if its strengths lie elsewhere, hardcore VN enthusiasts won’t be impressed with what both DDLC and Plus offer. It’s a game you had to experience at the time to fully appreciate. Even if I wouldn't recommend it now, I can't bring myself to call it bad with the vitriol others seem to have. It was important to me, as a gateway to Visual Novels and as a game. It reminds me of a significant time in my life, even if it wasn’t entirely positive.
Well, if you didn't already know that Doki Doki Literature Club Plus! is now marketed as a psychological horror game, you can probably guess how that afternoon turned out.
Why mention this? Because, despite my best efforts to reevaluate Plus with a new perspective, that November afternoon is deeply intertwined with my opinion of the game. Before it became a controversial western Visual Novel, before appearing in countless Let's Plays and Game Theory videos, before spawning marketable merchandise you could find in stores, it was just a subversive freeware horror game I was completely fascinated by. The lack of discussion about DDLC at the time meant that the glitch horror and metafiction elements caught me completely off guard. All its Creepypasta-tier parlor tricks and fourth-wall-breaking meta-puzzles worked wonders on me, as I had never encountered that kind of storytelling in games before. Discovering how to finish Act 3 was mind-blowing. I didn't even know games could do things like that!
But as I write this, seven years have passed, and a lot has changed since then: my interests have evolved, I am a different person now, and I have explored many other genres and experiences. Even back then, DDLC was already outdated compared to games like Eversion, Irusu Syndrome, and You & Me & Her: A Love Story. Now, glitch and meta-horror have become saturated storytelling brands on the internet. The conversations around it and its legacy are now heavy with both success and controversy. Revisiting it after so long, I worried that seeing it with fresh eyes would retroactively ruin the experience, like finally beating your dad in basketball and realizing he was never that good, you were just inexperienced.
In a way, it was ruined. The scares that once surprised me now don't work, both because I expected them and because the jump scares and glitch effects now seem juvenile and cliché. The cynicism in the text is more apparent, with its sly jabs at "anime and dating-sim tropes" taking on a more overtly cynical tone considering the game's origins. It was born out of Salvato's love-hate relationship with slice-of-life anime, and the game's parody aspect generalizes all visual novels as dating sims, showing a level of ignorance and contempt for its own medium and history. This trend of developers holding contempt for their own medium and inspirations isn't new (see: Necrobarista, YiiK), but ironically, DDLC shines most when indulging in the tropes it mocks.
Despite the supposed horror elements being central to both the marketing and cultural legacy of the game, DDLC excels most as a pastiche Visual Novel. Even if the main girls fall into the generic trope of "cute broken girl for generic MC to fix via high school romance," the main cast and their struggles are relatable, and Sayori's depiction of depression resonated deeply with me and many others (even if Yuri's self-harm is treated more exploitatively). Plus' new side stories, which remove the horror elements and focus on more realistic, slice-of-life stories about communication and mental illness treated with tact, become engaging and heartwarming in a way that, ironically, aligns with what the base storyline once sought to criticize.
However, separating my personal experience, I wouldn't recommend DDLC+. Its horror is now weak and outdated, and since that’s the angle the game is marketed with and most known for, it’s hard to enjoy it from that perspective. It’s confused about what it wants to be, and even if its strengths lie elsewhere, hardcore VN enthusiasts won’t be impressed with what both DDLC and Plus offer. It’s a game you had to experience at the time to fully appreciate. Even if I wouldn't recommend it now, I can't bring myself to call it bad with the vitriol others seem to have. It was important to me, as a gateway to Visual Novels and as a game. It reminds me of a significant time in my life, even if it wasn’t entirely positive.