The significance of Braid has been well documented since 2008 but while the Anniversary Edition's new polish is a welcome addition, it's the hours of commentary providing an extensive deep dive that cement this as a phenomenal, crucial upgrade.
Reflecting on Braid‘s significance, one has to play with time.
The landscape of 2008 was vastly different for gaming, for most media. In this moment I try to peel back the thick, foggy folds of time and remember August 2008, the month Braid released on Xbox Live Arcade.
Poor aimless, hopeless Ben. Unlike Braid‘s main character Tim, I had no steadfast goal to cling to. Much like Tim, life would be better had the past been altered, right? I was in a months-long stupor of post-college life having not constructed a plan for myself even out of toilet paper and glue. No graduate school. No relationship. No gainful employment. Dwindling friends. Games were a welcome, warm crutch.
Had I owned an Xbox 360 at the time, it’s highly likely I would have purchased Braid. At some point earlier in the year, Grand Theft Auto 4 had lost a bit of its luster. The communal aspect of playing that game with a group was ripped away. I had plowed through Metal Gear Solid 4 after patiently waiting a month for my PlayStation 3 to get repaired by Sony after it died the first day I spent time with Old Snake. And with dwindling funds, I was saving up money for Fallout 3 as my final new game before Christmastime begging.
When referencing past game releases, I often turn to Google to quickly check my memory and confirm the state of gaming in whatever time period. Don’t want to look stupid when making a point, after all. When searching for “PSN games in 2008”, nothing caught my eye. And frankly, I remember absolutely no standout small titles available on the PlayStation 3 that year I first owned it. Previously I had purchased Calling All Cars based off David Jaffe’s pedigree. But my fat PS3 was very much also a PlayStation 2 machine, providing me the opportunity to catch up on that library.
Braid would have been that perfect comfort food. A relatively inexpensive, memorable journey providing me hours of engagement. Its gameplay would have transfixed me. Its narrative would have haunted me.
But alas, it would be years before I took the plunge and bought the game on PC, likely in a post Indie Game: The Movie world. By then, gaming had created a kind of harmony, one we aren’t really privy to at the current moment. During the time after Braid‘s release, indies and triple-As reached a palatable cadence that could only drown the most ravenous of players. We were swimming in a flood of quality and relative quantity.
Since Braid, creator Jonathan Blow and his studio Thekla Inc. have only released The Witness, an incredible exploratory puzzle game from 2016. And by that logic, Braid, Anniversary Edition fulfills that 8-year gap. But come on, man, can we get that new game? Blow has been extremely candid about the state of gaming and the creation of games, providing decent insight into what may fuel the industry. And while his vocal nature may rub some the wrong way, he’s produced two of the best independent games in the medium, making him a figure of relative intrigue.
It is extremely rare that players are privy to most of the history and process surrounding a game before and after launch. Often, details will leak where an insider will claim secret knowledge. But as a whole, publishers and developers are almost as tight-lipped as they were back in the days of magazines where new information was relegated to brief articles and tiny screen grabs. Few documentaries, videos, or books exist to expound upon the grueling development process of creating games.
Braid, Anniversary Edition may be one of the most enthralling updates to a game I’ve ever encountered. Where the Resident Evil series has seen a fair share of overhauls, Final Fantasy VII was completely reimagined, and Persona introduces new content, the Anniversary Edition is, on the surface, more akin to a remaster.
Players who remember Braid likely will recall the game’s blooming, painterly visuals that created a fantastical world. In 2008, it was stunning. In 2024, it becomes jaw-dropping. Braid, Anniversary Edition, like any good remaster, enables players to instantly switch back and forth between the original and updated visuals with the click of a button. With my mind blurry enough of the original Braid, I decided to play through the entirety of the game with updated visuals. The opening world with its billowing clouds seemingly bursting and whispering away against the blue sky were hypnotic. Platforms were packed with foliage and those killer bunnies were more candy pink than ever before.
What was even more of a trip was returning to those levels and shifting back and forth between the past and present. Braid was undoubtedly a complete vision, a whole one that seemed to have no compromise mechanically, aesthetically, or thematically. The touches brought with the Anniversary Edition‘s updated visuals haven’t necessarily replaced Braid as a whole, rather filled in the gaps. The artwork doesn’t unnecessarily pull a Star Wars Special Edition–Blow’s turn of phrase, not mine–it seems to have incorporated new details in the existing theme. In the final levels of the game, new statues are added to the background that both raise questions to the many interpretations of the narrative but support potential answers.
Being made in 2008, Braid was around for the convergence of high-definition graphics. And while Blow and his team wanted to attempt to future-proof Braid for a potential update, sights were primarily set on 1080p visuals–no one could account for 4K at the time. The Anniversary Edition incorporates repainted artwork to match the necessary level of detail that today’s screens can allow for. Those same flourishes apply to character animations, sound effects, and the score. It transforms an already invigorating experience into one that is significantly richer and vibrant, befitting the legacy of a classic.
These bonus touches add layers to the complex narrative, one primarily dictated by how the player infers provided texts and how they are incorporated into the actions on screen. Tim is searching for the Princess, one who seems to frequently be in other castles. The prelude to each World includes a handful of books that form words on the screen for the player to read. Often cryptic and meant to be interpreted, the player understands that there is some kind of history between Tim and the Princess. Additionally, Tim seems to harbor some kind of regret over the past, one he wishes to change with his actions.
Braid may strike players as the kind of art house game meant to illicit a deep reaction out of a personal narrative. In a way I guess it may be. Those texts are meant to be a kind of read-between-the-lines prose, one that more susceptible players may latch on to.
I found a lot of myself in Braid in the early 2010s when I first played it. I found just as much of myself in it in 2024. Tim’s nebulous search to manipulate time for a more idyllic outcome seems tantamount to an adult existence, one often heralded by regret. Oh how I wish I could turn back time momentarily. Oh how I wish I could pause a moment and linger in it for a bit longer. The stop and the start can be maddening. But is my memory correct? I’d like to think that for a majority of the time it is but who’s to say?
The brilliance of Braid is that it feels like one of the first of its kind. An open-ended narrative weighted in importance rather than self-indulgence. Plus, it tackled that itching quandary of ludonarrative dissonance that was growing in fervor for some.
Braid works to make the crux of its gameplay a narrative conceit as well. There’s no real explanation as to why Tim has the ability to manipulate space and time. He is a redheaded man in a black suit and tie. Are these powers an extension of his desires or a representation of his history?
Regardless of the answer, players are tasked with making their way through Braid overcoming platforming challenges through time manipulation powers to collect puzzle pieces. Initially, Tim can reverse time. This negates a death or allows the player to time and set up a jump better. Later, objects and enemies are no longer affected by the reverse flow of time. Near the end of the game, time can be slowed to a crawl and a shadow of Tim’s past self will also play out.
Braid is not an overly difficult game but it does present a number of confounding levels that task players’ brains. Enemies are not bountiful in the game and only a handful of “boss” encounters spice things up. All in all, Braid is more puzzler than platformer when it’s all said and done. Blow took cues from a few elements of Mario but bouncing off enemies is usually done as a method to get the right physics and height to reach a difficult spot. The game can be completed in a handful of hours but never relies on repetitive tricks. Each room tackles time manipulation and prior experience in a unique way, making each puzzle a lesson. While the journey is certainly short, it is impactful beyond measure, leaving quite the imprint. Braid‘s ripples can be felt even now. Obscure, optional challenges are the stuff of legend and I remembered their solution even a decade later because of how uncanny they were to solve.
As its own package, Braid is worth the price of admission back then and today. Yet the Anniversary Edition goes the extra mile by incorporating what is perhaps the most extensive collection of commentary to be found in a game. Sony’s efforts covering the development and release of The Last of Us and God of War 2018 were incredible but with a mainstream slant. Braid, Anniversary Edition‘s commentary track is a catalog of gaming knowledge.
And this isn’t a few simple audio recordings of Jonathan Blow talking about the meaning behind a level or why a puzzle is the way it is. Certainly, those things are included here but the Anniversary Edition content is more than that. My only complaint with this version is that discovering all the commentary can be somewhat difficult and I wished for a kind of checklist to know what had been listened to or not. That being said, Braid, Anniversary Edition is stuffed with commentary tracks from Blow and his team.
As great as it is to hear the art and sound team talk about those elements of the game, it is just as fascinating to listen to minutes-long dives into programming woes, the math behind time manipulation, and so much more. I would feel dumb attempting to explain commentary explaining a game but I think to any potential or budding developer, Braid, Anniversary Edition is a must-own. There is an honest attempt by the creators of this noteworthy piece of art to expound upon any feasible thread they can. The information found within may be considered essential for anyone truly invested in the workings of the industry.
For an added treat, the “commentary world” includes its own series of puzzles to spice up the process of reaching new commentary points. Incorporating all these elements, Braid, Anniversary Edition doesn’t attempt to replace the original but acts as a kind of ultimate experience, one that makes for a kind of touchstone for the medium.
Braid, Anniversary Edition is an essential product for fans of Jonathan Blow’s significant indie game. More importantly, it is a crucial reference point for anyone wishing to learn more about game development. Braid, as an experience, is only enhanced due to the updated visuals, animations, and sounds. What remains is still a game that time has been kind to, one that serves as an essential point in how we consume the medium today.
