Ori and the Blind Forest

Moon Studios released Ori and the Blind Forest in 2015, and it immediately became one of those games people couldn’t stop recommending. A 2D platformer with metroidvania exploration, it tells the story of a small spirit named Ori trying to restore a dying forest. That description sounds simple, and the game is smart enough to let simplicity work in its favor. It communicates almost entirely through visuals, music, and animation rather than dialogue, and the result is something that connects on a level most games in the genre don’t even attempt.

Community reception has been overwhelmingly positive for over a decade. The Definitive Edition, released in 2016, added new areas, abilities, difficulty options, and fast travel, rounding out what was already a strong package. Criticism exists, and it tends to focus on specific design choices rather than the game’s overall quality. Most players who finish it walk away calling it one of the best platformers they’ve ever played.

Where Ori and the Blind Forest Excels

Movement is the foundation, and Moon Studios built it with care. Ori controls with the kind of precision that makes difficult platforming feel fair rather than punishing. Jumps are responsive, abilities chain together fluidly, and the game introduces new traversal tools at a pace that keeps the experience fresh across its runtime. By the late game, you’re wall-jumping, dashing, and launching off projectiles in sequences that feel almost rhythmic. The Definitive Edition added a dash ability that was previously missing, and it’s hard to imagine the game without it now.

Art direction and music create something that goes beyond “pretty.” Hand-painted backgrounds layer depth into every screen, and the orchestral soundtrack by Gareth Coker shifts with the action in ways that amplify both quiet exploration and frantic escape sequences. The opening minutes have become famous for their emotional impact, and the game sustains that level of care throughout. Environments evolve as you progress, each area carrying its own color palette, hazards, and mood. The forest feels alive and interconnected in a way that rewards curiosity.

Exploration follows the metroidvania template well. New abilities open paths in previously visited areas, and the map design encourages backtracking without making it feel like busywork. Hidden collectibles and energy cells give completionists something to chase, and the world is compact enough that nothing feels padded. The Definitive Edition’s fast travel system made revisiting areas significantly less tedious.

Story delivery deserves special mention. Ori conveys loss, hope, and sacrifice through animation and score rather than exposition. Characters communicate through body language and musical cues, and the emotional beats land with surprising force for a game with essentially no spoken dialogue. Players consistently cite the opening sequence and the ending as some of the most affecting moments in any game they’ve played.

Ori and the Blind Forest’s Energy System Shortcomings

Saving in the original design was a polarizing choice. Rather than automatic checkpoints, players spent energy to create soul links, which served as manual save points. Running out of energy in the wrong spot and dying meant losing significant progress. The Definitive Edition added traditional difficulty modes that address this somewhat, but on the standard setting, the system still catches players off guard.

Escape sequences cap off each major area with high-speed platforming gauntlets that test precision under pressure. They’re visually spectacular and musically thrilling, but they also represent some of the game’s steepest difficulty spikes. Death sends you back to the start of the sequence, and some players find that the repetition drains the excitement that the sequences are designed to create. These moments are divisive: some consider them the game’s highlight, others its most frustrating sections.

Combat is the weakest element. Ori’s primary attack is an auto-targeting energy projectile that doesn’t demand much mechanical skill. While the bash ability adds tactical depth by letting you redirect enemy projectiles, direct combat encounters are rarely as engaging as the platforming around them. The game seems to know this, leaning much harder on traversal challenges than on fights, but the enemy encounters that do exist can feel like interruptions.

The Art of the Platformer

Ori and the Blind Forest succeeds because it understands what a platformer can be when every discipline pulls in the same direction. The level design serves the movement mechanics. The music serves the emotion. The art serves the world. Nothing feels disconnected, and that cohesion is what elevates it above most games in the genre. It’s a short experience by modern standards, around eight to twelve hours depending on how much you explore, but that runtime is tightly curated. There’s no filler.

Definitive Edition represents the best version of the game, adding content and accessibility options that address the original’s roughest edges without compromising its identity. If you’re picking this up for the first time, that’s the version to play.

Should You Play Ori and the Blind Forest?

Anyone who enjoys precision platformers with strong exploration elements will find something special here. Fans of atmospheric games that prioritize visual storytelling and emotional resonance over dialogue and cutscenes should consider it essential. If you loved games in the metroidvania tradition and want one that pushes the artistic boundaries of the genre, this is a benchmark.

Skip it if difficult platforming sequences frustrate rather than motivate you. If you prefer combat-focused action games or need a longer runtime to feel satisfied with a purchase, the relatively short length and lighter combat mechanics might leave you wanting more.

The Verdict on Ori and the Blind Forest

Ori and the Blind Forest is one of those rare games where every element works in concert. The platforming is precise and satisfying, the world is gorgeous and worth exploring, and the story hits harder than most games ten times its length. The Definitive Edition’s added difficulty options and areas only strengthen the package. Escape sequences will test your patience, and the save system can amplify frustration in spots, but those are small costs for a game that has earned its place among the best platformers ever made. It’s the kind of experience that sticks with you long after the credits.