Grim Fandango Isn't Afraid Of Death, It Laughs In The Face Of It
We all die sooner or later. Rich, poor, Knack fan, good taste—at some point, everyone kicks the bucket, and that’s grim. The number of nights I’ve fallen into existential dread about what comes after is muddying into the triple digits, which isn’t helped by the fact that so many of our favourite games and shows tackle death with such finality. It’s dreary. But Grim Fandango was a breath of fresh air, pushing through the stigma and taboo of talking about death to deliver something more comedic, bringing life’s monotony beyond the veil.
Grim Fandango isn’t rooted in any one religious context. Its afterlife is vague enough that anyone can dig into it and find something to relate to—there’s grim reaper imagery but also similarities to Dante’s Inferno with the circles of Hell, but rather than raging fires and torture chambers, it’s a Tim Burton-esque world of skeletons not too dissimilar to our own. It’s a world that I got lost in without ever feeling glum about that fear of potential nothingness.
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I was raised Catholic and then Christian, dragged to Sunday school, and forced to sing hymns and read the Bible. There’s always that nagging part of me that falls back to God like a safety net, regardless of how much I pull away. Going through some of the worst periods of my life, I couldn’t help but slip back into old habits, whispering into the void, hoping there was someone listening. But it’s mostly hope—I’m not sure I’d call myself a believer in much these days. Yet having that belief of something after death ripped away is like jumping out of a helicopter without a parachute. It’s terrifying, and I still haven’t recovered.
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