One of the early scenes in despelote describes how the country of Ecuador entered a speed walking craze following Jefferson Pérez’s 1996 Olympic gold medal win. I do not know whether a situation like this can feel palpable to someone living in a country like the US, which is always at the top level for most sports and entertainment mediums, but for someone like me, living in a country that only has a few top contenders, I know just how big a deal winning anything is. A sport can become a national sensation overnight.
Reverberating across every space you live, every source of news you see is the sense of pride—the growing stardom and legacy of someone you only heard of today for the first time conquering a scene you only just learned exists. In Ecuador, “Overnight, the whole country learns how to move their hips like Jefferson.” In Poland, overnight the whole country would learn to squat like Małysz did while preparing for his ski jumps. “Call me over when Małysz is jumping,” a phrase you would hear in every Polish household once upon a time. Football/soccer is a different story. Every country has a national team, and, you know, they play. You never have high hopes that they will get anywhere but when they win once, twice, suddenly you start feeling that, well, maybe they will make it this time. I do not want to make this about Poland though, it is not nearly the same situation as the one in Quito, Ecuador in 2001. Understand, though, that for countries that do not win a lot, winning brings everyone together in a special way. By everyone, I mean your one parent who never watches any sports, the teachers who are giving you a hard time, shop clerks, your friends who have not kicked a ball with you these past two years, politicians, celebrities, the underbelly, etc. Being together does not mean everything is better, but it is more vivid. It sticks with you, some parts more than others.
Some spots are still fuzzy, and hazy, but others are scarily precise. In that haziness of the 3D space, grain covering every surface, recreated mindscape with the sharp, drawn cutouts moving throughout it, despelote lets you live in a time of togetherness, a state of acute awareness. It is like the mind needs you to remember something for the future even if you do not understand why. Memories and moments so powerful that they weave into you forever, even if you may never fully recognize what exact pathways they formed.
In a way, it is a bit of a scary thought. The creator aged the player character Julián up slightly, regretting not feeling more present at the time, not being even more aware, but these recreations of his neighborhood, his home, the park, and the school feel incredibly palpable. The sound is, at times, eerie. Now and then you hear these creepy, rumbling echoes of a stadium crowd mixed in between the simple and pleasant strumming soundtrack that hits you with memories of different times.
Elsewhere, you will hear the modern recordings of the same park in Quito where you will spend most of your roughly two-hour playthrough. To keep the expensive recording equipment safe, the creator hired a private security guard to go with him and the sound designer to the park. Earlier, you will hear about how the manager of the Ecuadorian team got shot by supporters of the former president. The country was in the middle of an unrest following an economic crisis and dollarization.
More people than usual may be together, but not everyone is happy, not everyone is kind. Like during a wedding. You too can play a bit of a troublemaker. Often left alone, told exactly what to do and when to return, but time goes by fast when you are kicking a ball. Or a bottle. Or a DVD box. Or a balloon at that wedding, right into the ceiling fan.
I love the controls for this main mechanic, it is off-putting enough so that no matter how much you play the console game or just kick the ball around outside, you will likely not get a perfect sense of them during one playthrough. Neither did the protagonist in his life, it seems. He is better than the local kids, sometimes tasked with kicking over something up high but by the time he grows older those skills fall by the wayside, and you are often left moving without a ball, or any of the other kickable objects, at your feet. There are still people in front of you though, like your mother who grabs you by the hand and makes you look directly into her face.
Though fully grounded in the realism of a local community, despelote takes the time to shock and stir you with its abstract sections. You can sit at a TV and watch the matches that led to the historic moment of Ecuador qualifying for the 2002 World Cup, only to return home and be thrust into a dream of a morphing city and endlessly respawning balls falling out of the sky.
Approachable from dozens of angles, despelote is as rich as it is beautiful. It is scrappy like the 2001 Ecuador team scoring that goal in the final seconds of their match in Peru. It is innocent like the player character’s sister asking you to show her how to draw a frog because she wants to draw one too, a crazy frog, in fact. It is as real as the emotions that hit you once you find yourself straying from the path life laid out for you up until that point.
In some ways, it is revolutionary like the movie Ratas, ratones, rateros. For many Ecuadorians that was the first movie they had ever seen, for many despelote will be the first Ecuadorian game they ever played. That and the first football game to not make them swear at their TV screen. For how important video games have become for the world of football and vice versa, we do not get games like this often enough. Take any angle despelote presents and run with it. I think there is a net to score into at the end of each path.
This portrait of a neighborhood in Quito is sure to stick with anyone. It is meant to. At one point I unexpectedly found myself in a recreation of it and, as soon as I realized that, I was able to instinctively reach Julián’s home without much thought. Through a mixture of real-life talking points mentioned between chapters by the narrator, almost intruding on the idyllic childhood experience, and its understated gameplay mechanics secretly leading the player, an experience this tactile and yet this nebulous can take its shape.
Few moments can feel a tad jumpy and aimless, but then it brings you back by doing something only available in this medium with such finesse that I physically felt the pangs of my heart expanding. Like the moment where an entire country holds its breath for a mere moment, despelote made me feel like time stood still, rushed into my head, and left an impression that I will be deciphering for years to come.
Mateusz played despelote on PC with a provided review copy.
