Introduction

Florence is a short but impactful title that immerses you in its story within that brief runtime. The game follows the experiences of a 25-year-old young woman, and if you happen to be the same age as her, like me, certain moments will likely leave you deeply reflective. In this review, I want to explore how this game manages to leave such an impression despite its short length.

Gameplay Overview

As I mentioned at the start, the story follows a 25-year-old girl named Florence. Her journey begins with everyday tasks. Unlike some modern games in this genre, you’re not simply meant to sit back with popcorn and watch the story unfold like a movie. In Florence, you must actively participate in various activities to progress the narrative; if you skip these interactions, the game will not move forward on its own.

This is what allows the game to tell its story through geometric shapes, colors, puzzles, and music. When a conversation takes place between two characters, you must piece together an oval split into three parts to form the dialogue. If the conversation is gentle and friendly, the edges of these pieces become curved; a symbol of calm. When the conversation turns tense, those edges become sharp and jagged; a symbol of stress and anxiety.

It’s interesting that this use of curved versus sharp forms even parallels certain principles in design and architecture, where softer forms tend to convey a greater sense of calm, while sharp angles are more associated with tension and anxiety. This is why sharp forms are often avoided in the design of therapeutic and relaxing spaces.

Parts of the story are also told through color. In one section, you find yourself in a nearly colorless environment, and the game draws your attention by introducing a single pink box. In another part, you travel to the past, where the game asks you to get creative and color a few crafts. These crafts are later displayed exactly as you made them within the game world, making you feel that your choices and interactions truly had an impact on Florence’s world.

In certain sections, you join Florence in carrying out her daily routines. At first, you help her by solving simple puzzles; but by the end, your input is no longer needed, because Florence has gained enough mastery to handle them easily and quickly on her own. This shift cleverly mirrors real life: we too grow more skilled at everyday tasks simply through repetition.

The puzzles themselves are always in service of the narrative, and their simplicity helps the story move forward at the right pace; whether it’s piecing together the three oval segments or peeling and sticking photos.

The one disappointing aspect of my experience was the ending. It felt abrupt and completely disconnected from the rest of the game, veering off from the main storyline; as if it had been made in a rush. There’s no real continuation of the main story; instead, it suddenly shifts focus to something you were only briefly introduced to in one early chapter.

Conclusion

Overall, Florence offers a remarkable one-hour experience that sets itself apart from similar titles. Rather than keeping the player at arm’s length from the narrative, it makes you feel less like a spectator and more like a genuine part of the story itself.