And the Plus version double downs on its true message.
Spoilers ahead
Search Doki Doki Literature Club on YouTube and you’ll likely see a bunch of videos with your usual shocked face complete with a title such as “SCARIEST DATING SIM EVER?!” and maybe a Photoshopped blood-splatter effect if you’re lucky. A cute bouncy anime dating sim that descends into psychological horror, it was always destined to be stream fodder. But DDLC's horror goes beyond cheap jump scares, in fact, the one legitimate jump scare only comes up if you are streaming it, almost as if to say, “this is what you came for right?” The game is the polar opposite to something like Five Nights at Freddy’s, in which a slow unnerving atmosphere takes the lead over having a thing jump out at the screen and go boo.
DDLC’s horror is more about making a point rather than hitting you with an adrenaline rush, and that point is the suffocating nature of a mental illness. When suffering from cases of extreme anxiety or depression, there is a loss of control over your life, and the game mirrors that feeling in its design. DDLC masquerades as a dating sim, so naturally we expect some degree of control over our choices, in fact, one of the selling points of a dating sim is choice, the choice of picking who to pursue. Initially this is the case, with you getting all cozy with either Sayori, Yuri or Natsuki, but Monika is strangely exempt – that’s your first clue that something is up.
As the usual anime tropes start to peel away and the happy-go-lucky childhood friend Sayori reveals her love for the protagonist along with her major depression, you are given a choice on whether to accept her love or tell her that she will always be your dearest friend. Either one isn’t a great option for someone who just expressed their suicidal thoughts moments before their love, and unfortunately there is no “you need professional help” choice. Whatever you pick, the same result happens, that being Sayori taking her own life. The game will also try to make it seem like the alternative choice was the way to go, as if to rub salt into the wound.
Many would call the scene where you find Sayori’s lifeless body the point where the horror hits, but for me, it was seeing a character slowly lose all stability in their life. If you do reciprocate Sayori’s feelings, she is distraught that her depression isn’t suddenly “fixed” by her crush’s words, which shows how little guidance she has been given on her condition. And watching someone just spiral into despair like that is as devastatingly heartbreaking as it is fucking terrifying. As the game progresses the illusion of choice is slowly removed, and you begin your fourth wall-breaking decent into the game’s second and third act. But the takeaway isn’t that DDLC has a bunch of scary things happen, it is that a lot of effort has been put into making you care about the characters.
Sayori’s depression, Yuri’s anxiety, Natsuki’s inferiority complex and Monika’s derealisation, these aspects might resonate with people who’ve had similar experiences. DDLC presents you with the usual anime archetypes, only to twist them into something more melancholy. For instance, someone who appears adorably shy on the outside like Yuri, might be tearing themselves apart with second guesses and worst-case scenarios on the inside. DDLC is about understanding and empathy, and this is made more evident with the side stories the new Plus version comes bundled with.
Taking place outside the main story of DDLC, you get to see how the infamous club was formed, as well as see the various relationships of the its members begin. If you’re looking for the same bizarre and unnerving dread that the game is known for, then you’re going to be disappointed. These stories are more about the characters dealing with their problems in a positive way, with writing that can come across as pretty preachy at times, but I understand that the team wanted to do something a bit more uplifting after the existential nightmare that came prior.
Though I was a little let down that some of the heavier themes don’t appear at all, with the only exception being Sayori’s suicidal depression. Yuri’s self-harming is absent, Natsuki’s abusive home life is removed too, and Monika’s derealisation is swapped for perfectionism. I was eager to see these aspects explored and perhaps come to some sort of resolution, but alas, they are never touched upon. And the non-canoness of these stories was perhaps a way to avoid Monika’s hope to grow the club at the end coming across as tragically naive, after all, we all know what happens when the fifth member is introduced. I wouldn't say that these stories are essential, but they do act as an excuse to see the cast interact with each other under less hellish circumstances.
DDLC’s last commentary is on our relationship with fictional characters, with the most direct example being Monika’s desire to break free from the game and spend their life with the player, the actual player. And we also get Yuri and Natsuki expressing their wish of being able to spend time with the people that reside within their favourite fiction. After all, fictional characters don’t just come from nowhere, the good ones express a certain feeling born from the writer themselves, one that you yourself might be dealing with. In DDLC, these cutesy anime girls act as a bridge of sorts connecting you to Dan Salvato’s thoughts.
And if I’m being honest, DDLC was the first step in admitting to myself that I had mental issues, and it began my journey to seek support. While games or other media about mental health shouldn’t be used as a substitute for professional help, they can sometimes aid us in understanding what these often confusing and frightening feelings even look like in the first place.
And sometimes they fuck up deceptions of mental health real bad, like in the Medium.
Log in to comment