A Bewitching Revolution

A Bewitching Revolution is a first-person adventure game set in a dystopian cyberpunk city gripped by capitalism, where players take on the role of a communist witch using magic, tarot readings, spells, and potions to empower residents in building unions, community gardens, and collective resistance, transforming the gloomy urban landscape into a vibrant revolutionary future inspired by the works of Silvia Federici.

A Bewitching Revolution: Review

Introduction

In a gaming landscape often dominated by sprawling epics and profit-driven blockbusters, A Bewitching Revolution emerges as a quiet yet potent act of defiance—a one-hour burst of magical realism that weaves cyberpunk dystopia with revolutionary fervor. Released in 2019 by indie developer Colestia, this unassuming title invites players into the role of a communist witch navigating a neon-drenched city, armed not with swords or spells of destruction, but with tarot cards, acorns, and the power of collective action. As a game historian, I’ve seen countless titles grapple with social issues, but few do so with such unapologetic optimism and brevity, turning a critique of capitalism into an intimate, hopeful ritual. This review argues that A Bewitching Revolution isn’t just a game; it’s a bewitching manifesto, proving that short-form indie experiences can spark profound change in players’ minds, much like the revolution it depicts.

Development History & Context

A Bewitching Revolution was the brainchild of David Cribb, operating under the solo developer moniker Colestia, a one-person studio with a penchant for politically charged artgames. Released on April 9, 2019, initially via itch.io as a name-your-own-price download, the game quickly found its way to Steam and other platforms, including Macintosh and Linux builds. Cribb’s vision was deeply rooted in the works of Italian autonomist Marxist feminist Silvia Federici, whose writings on witches, capitalism, and communal resistance—particularly in Caliban and the Witch—inspired the game’s core premise. Federici’s ideas about reclaiming the “common” through everyday magic and solidarity resonate throughout, transforming the witch archetype from a solitary figure into a catalyst for collective empowerment.

The game’s development occurred in an era of accessible indie tools, leveraging Unity as its engine, which allowed Cribb to craft a low-poly, first-person world without the budgetary constraints of AAA productions. Technological limitations of the time—such as Unity’s handling of simple physics and environmental interactions—were turned into strengths: the game’s modest scope ensured it could run on basic hardware (Intel HD 4000 graphics, 4GB RAM), making it accessible to a broad audience. This was no accident; Cribb funded the project through Patreon supporters like Elijah Cauley and Jacob Furtado, emphasizing community backing over venture capital.

The broader gaming landscape in 2019 was a fertile ground for such a title. The indie scene was booming with politically aware works like Disco Elysium and Kentucky Route Zero, which explored existential and societal themes amid a rising tide of “altgames”—experiences prioritizing message over mechanics. Cyberpunk was resurging ahead of Cyberpunk 2077‘s launch, but mainstream takes often glamorized corporate dystopias. A Bewitching Revolution subverted this by infusing optimism into the genre, releasing amid real-world movements like Occupy Wall Street’s echoes and growing leftist discourse online. As a free-to-play title on Steam (with optional donations), it bypassed commercial gatekeeping, aligning with its anti-capitalist ethos and allowing it to reach players disillusioned with the industry’s grind.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

At its heart, A Bewitching Revolution unfolds as a poetic allegory for grassroots organizing, told through a first-person lens that immerses players in the mundane struggles of a cyberpunk underclass. You embody an unnamed witch who arrives in a sprawling, rain-slicked metropolis ruled by faceless corporations and a brutal police force. The plot is elegantly linear yet emergent: starting with solitary encounters, you use magic to illuminate the residents’ plights—overworked laborers, isolated families, exploited communities—and guide them toward solidarity. No grand villains monologue here; instead, the antagonist is systemic, embodied in flickering holograms of ads and patrolling drones. The story crescendos in a riotous reclamation, where the city transforms from concrete prison to verdant commune, culminating in a cathartic vision of mutual aid.

Characters are archetypal yet deeply human, sketched with empathetic dialogue that feels like intimate conversations. The factory worker yearning for unionization, the lonely elder seeking community, the youth dreaming of greener spaces—these aren’t NPCs with branching quests but vessels for Federici-inspired themes. Dialogue is sparse but poignant, delivered in a first-person narration that blends the witch’s wry observations with residents’ raw testimonies. Lines like “Capitalism closes off futures, but the cards show what’s possible” underscore the game’s refusal to preach, opting instead for Socratic revelation.

Thematically, the game is a masterclass in blending the occult with the political. Witches, historically persecuted under capitalism (as Federici argues, to dismantle communal knowledge), become symbols of resistance. Magic isn’t escapist; it’s practical—tarot readings deconstruct exploitation, revealing how wage labor alienates and enclosures strip the commons. Themes of hope amid gloom permeate: the narrative rejects nihilism, positing revolution as inevitable when people connect. Environmentalism intertwines with socialism, as spells regrow forests, critiquing urban alienation while celebrating bioregional mutualism. Subtly, it addresses intersectionality—workers’ struggles nod to gender, race, and class without tokenism. For a one-hour tale, it’s exhaustively layered, leaving players with a lingering sense of agency, as if they’ve glimpsed a world remade not by heroes, but by us.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

A Bewitching Revolution eschews traditional gameplay loops for a meditative flow of exploration, interaction, and transformation, clocking in at around 60 minutes of purposeful wandering. Core mechanics revolve around “bewitching” the environment and people: direct control in first-person lets you navigate the city’s alleys and rooftops via keyboard and mouse, with intuitive interactions highlighted by subtle glows. No combat exists—violence is subverted into collective action—making progression feel empowering rather than punitive.

The loop begins with tarot readings: approach a resident, and a deck of public-domain illustrated cards (sourced from the British Library) shuffles to reveal capitalist critiques, like “The Tower” symbolizing economic collapse or “The Fool” representing untapped potential. These aren’t random; they contextualize dialogues, unlocking paths to organization. From there, character progression ties to magical systems: brew potions from scavenged herbs to heal or inspire, or cast spells like guiding an acorn with mouse-held physics (WASD to steer its descent into fertile soil, sprouting trees). These mini-games are simple yet innovative—acorn-planting evokes joy in creation, with a sigil previewing landings for precision.

UI is minimalist and unobtrusive: a heads-up display shows spell cooldowns and a bicycle for traversal (upgrading as the city greens). Progression is narrative-driven, with no levels or stats; your “growth” mirrors the revolution’s, from isolated acts to mass events like strikes (interact to join crowds) and riots (non-violent surges of color and sound). Flaws emerge in navigation—occasional ambiguity in objectives, like post-riot confusion, can frustrate without hints—and the fixed low field-of-view (FOV) induces motion sickness for some, lacking adjustability due to Unity constraints. Yet innovations shine: environmental puzzles, like regreening barren lots, blend mechanics with theme, rewarding patience over skill. It’s flawed in its brevity—no replayability beyond reflection—but flawlessly executes its goal: making solidarity feel magical.

World-Building, Art & Sound

The game’s world is a cyberpunk city reimagined as a canvas for revolution: towering megastructures pierce smoggy skies, neon ads hawk consumerism, and rain-swept streets pulse with holographic billboards decrying “efficiency” over humanity. This setting evolves dynamically—barren concrete yields to community gardens, vines creep over billboards, and helpful animals (cats, birds) repopulate as you act—creating a tangible shift from dystopia to utopia. Atmosphere builds immersion through subtle details: flickering police drones symbolize surveillance, while hidden alleys reveal personal stories, fostering a sense of eavesdropping on the proletariat’s whispers.

Visually, Colestia’s low-poly aesthetic is a deliberate stroke of genius, evoking early 2010s indie charm while nodding to cyberpunk minimalism (think Proteus meets Deus Ex). Blocky models and vibrant palettes—grays and blues giving way to greens and reds—convey alienation turning to vitality. The first-person perspective heightens intimacy, with hands gesturing spells in clean animations. Art direction prioritizes transformation: the city’s “before” feels oppressive, its “after” liberating, reinforced by particle effects for magic that feel organic, not flashy.

Sound design amplifies this: NY Vice’s “Smooth Steering” trailer track sets a jazzy, noir tone, while in-game audio layers ambient rain, distant sirens, and swelling folk-electronica as resistance builds. FreeSound.org effects (e.g., stream SFX) add realism to nature spells, and the soundtrack’s situational shifts—from melancholic piano for isolation to triumphant choruses for riots—mirror emotional arcs. Dialogue is text-based with subtle voiceovers in narration, ensuring accessibility. Collectively, these elements craft an experience that’s atmospheric without overwhelming, making the revolution feel palpably alive.

Reception & Legacy

Upon release, A Bewitching Revolution garnered immediate acclaim in indie circles, despite its free model limiting commercial metrics (Steam lists it at $0.00, with no sales data). On Steam, it boasts a 93% positive rating from 333 reviews, praised for its “uplifting” message and “magical” brevity. Itch.io users rate it 4.8/5 from 254 ratings, with comments like “made me cry tears of happiness and hope” highlighting its emotional impact. Critics echoed this: IndieGamesPlus.com called it a “better future outside the grim march of capitalism,” while Rock Paper Shotgun lauded its Federici-inspired depth as “a wonderful little game.” FreeGamePlanet dubbed it a “great fusion of communism, cyberpunk, and witchcraft.” No major controversies arose, though some critiqued its “simplified” politics or navigation bugs.

Commercially, its legacy is niche but enduring—collected by 3 players on MobyGames, yet it thrives in word-of-mouth, with Brazilian Portuguese translation in 2022 expanding reach. Reputation has evolved from cult favorite to educational tool: players replay it yearly for inspiration, and it’s recommended in leftist gaming spaces for introducing mutual aid. Influence ripples outward—paving the way for games like Bewitching Sinners (2024)—by normalizing overt politics in indies, challenging the industry’s apolitical norms. As a historian, I see it influencing “altgames” wave, proving short experiences can outlast epics in cultural impact, especially amid 2020s labor movements.

Conclusion

A Bewitching Revolution distills the essence of resistance into a deceptively simple package: a cyberpunk city remade through magic and solidarity, leaving players enchanted and empowered. From its solo-dev origins and Federici roots to its transformative mechanics and evocative world, it excels in using games as vehicles for hope, flaws in navigation notwithstanding. In video game history, it claims a vital spot among political indies like Papers, Please or That Dragon, Cancer—not as a blockbuster, but as a spark. Verdict: Essential playing for anyone weary of capitalist gloom; 9.5/10, a bewitching triumph that reminds us revolutions start small, but they spread like wildfire.