In case you haven't heard, the noclip channel is right now releasing a five-part documentary on the development of Disco Elysium. Five episodes — foundation, building, writing, art, and one more to come about the late period before release. About a year and a half ago Danny mentioned this in passing: he didn't like how previous documentaries and interviews had focused mostly on the post-release fallout and on how one not-especially-honourable person warmed his hands on ZA/UM's IP from the inside. They stayed in contact with Kurvitz, and in the summer Danny finally went to Tallinn and recorded everything.

The episodes are interesting for several reasons.

On one hand it's the usual excellent documentary work we love noclip for — Danny effectively evaporates, leaving the space to his subjects. On the other, it's a brilliant cross-section of what real indie looks like, and of what friendship looks like: a gang of mates with no experience, no money and none of the safety cushion that people from the "first world" have, in tiny post-Soviet Estonia, managed not just to think something up but to bring it to life and earn worldwide acclaim. And thirdly, for me personally, it's a beautiful example of how blurred "roles" can be a plus rather than a minus — I mean Sander Taal, better known as Aleksander Rostov, who was responsible for the art side. For an artist the medium matters less; Aleksander put all of himself into the development. The fourth, "art" episode is probably his largest interview.

I've seen a lot of different artists, and Sander reminds me of one specific person in my life whose path, sadly, diverged from mine. With the difference that where I'm used to seeing a minus, a dark side and an inner-devouring gloom, in Aleksander it's a plus — bright chaos and humanity.

Worth saying separately that the USSR had an enormous influence on our generation, which barely caught it, and the common denominator we exist under unites us more than it first appears. I was in Tallinn around the same time DE's development started; I remember perfectly the feeling of a wholly European city — but the base of a cultural code is laid earlier, and Estonia, which went through its split in '90, turns out to contain the same millennials with the same interests and childhood experiences. And it doesn't matter what language they speak. The section where Aleksander talks about "the garage" and "wasteland," how ZA/UM's "office" looked with all its passages, little staircases and smoking spots, what the relationships in the team were like and how decisions were made, what the participants went through — all of it is mine, familiar.

Strongly recommended to anyone involved in games, to people who'd like to understand a bit more about Disco Elysium, to those with a soft spot for D&D, and simply if you have a few free hours. An inspiring watch.