Celeste's Happy Ending Doesn't Lie at the Peak

What's that thing they say about journeys and destinations?

You’ve seen this movie before: it’s the final stretch of a race and the protagonist has just rounded the corner. The finish line is so close. He’s clearly worse for wear, but everyone from the sidelines is applauding, calling his name, and yelling encouragements. Trumpets are starting to swell hopefully in the background. He’s dirty, tired, and limping, but he will make it.

It’s the beginning of a happy ending so well-earned that you’ll walk away from the theater feeling good about yourself. I’m about to hit the summit in Celeste, a brutal platformer about climbing a mountain, and a similar feeling of euphoria is taking over me. No other game I’ve played recently makes me feel so giddy and triumphant about being this close to the end. It already feels like a happy ending.

Story spoilers for Celeste ahead.

In Celeste, you play as Madeline, a young woman doing the most millennial thing by attempting to scale the titular mountain as she grapples with severe anxiety and self-doubt. By some mysterious influence present in the mountain, her journey forces her to literally face her inner demons determined to see her fail.

The game isn’t coy about what it all means. Confronting those voices in your head that whisper words of self-doubt and distrust is not unlike overcoming an inhospitable mountain. Trial and error drives your momentum in the game as you die over and over. The only way to get better is to recognize your mistakes and keep starting over until you nail your combos. The metaphors may be a little pointed, but the unforgiving gameplay perfectly underscores Madeline’s uphill climb towards self-acceptance.

There are many unforgettable gameplay moments all throughout Celeste, but there’s a feeling of pure magic reserved for the player in the final level. Most games end with a long orchestrated cutscene where you sit back and watch as story threads, character arcs, and lingering questions are tied and tucked away. Despite being in control most of the way, video game endings tend to be a passive experience.

In Celeste, the ending plays out across one, final level: a jubilant race to the summit that lets you experience a Madeline finally made whole. 

Each level in the game poses a unique platforming challenge, such as dash-activated platforms or orbs that propel you in one direction. Here at the summit level, there is a persistent updraft that gives Madeline’s jumps extra height and distance. It alters the physics of her trajectory and poses a real challenge in tightly designed areas, but unlike Celeste’s previous obstacles, this upward current feels different. It’s like a boon from the mountain; an open invitation for Madeline to meet her journey’s end. Through her renewed perception of what the climb means, the mountain finally opens up—and the reward is this last, optimistic climb to the top.

The design of this final level offers the same dopamine hit as watching the runner come close to the finish line as he’s cheered on by the crowd. Gone is the foreboding atmosphere from the areas below; instead, the entire summit brims with a wild cheerfulness brought to life by a plush, pre-dawn palette and a soaring musical score that I love so much. It’s the video game equivalent of that stirring redemption sequence in The Firebird, one of my favorite segments in Disney’s Fantasia 2000.

Throughout the level, you are in conversation with your old enemy: a dark twin manifesting Madeline’s worst qualities. What used to be an entity tormenting you in your journey has become an ally who gives you a much needed upward boost. As Madeline and her dark twin break down their assumptions about one another, it’s where you realize how little the summit matters at this point. Her final ascent towards self-acceptance has already been reached.

As of this writing, I’m ten checkpoints away from reaching the mountaintop. I have no idea what waits for me there, but even its mystery pales in comparison to the joy that the final level is giving me. The howling wind sounds like a crowd clapping and shouting my name. This is Madeline’s swan song—proof of people’s ability to overcome their worst. Here, just below the peak of Mount Celeste, I am jumping and dashing like never before. This is the ending I need.