‘Game’ is a funny word. On the surface it describes fun, cheerful, frivolous things. Even a very serious game of snooker, in which everyone wears waistcoats, is to some extent “just a game”. But of course video games can be very different, and Pine tree is one such game. The subtitle shows that – A story of loss – and it does exactly what it says on the tin.
You might be inclined to imagine something like Arising: A simple storyin which several light platforms guide you through allegorical landscapes between cutscenes. However, Pine can be politely described as ‘soft-playing’. The main character is an unnamed man who lives alone in an empty forest. He cut down trees for firewood, grew vegetables on a small plot of land to feed himself, and did nothing but carve small statues of the woman he loved but had lost.
Clearly prioritizing touchscreen controls, you start the game by swiping multiple fingers to prepare for swinging your ax into wood, lifting and placing to simulate managing a vegetable patch, or tapping to eat food Eat on a plate, chewing each bite. chew. Playing with a controller really trivializes this, as interactions are essentially reduced to lazily pressing down a few times, indifferently pressing ‘A’ a few times, etc. That said, even the touch interactions are pretty standard. The idea of duplicating on-screen actions using similar gestures is one that’s been well and truly done, while also drawing instructions on the screen so you can put your hands on the worthy piece of art. love is actually a type of anti-role-playing. Short interludes also risk interrupting the narrative flow.
While we appreciate this doesn’t paint a thrilling picture of Pine, there’s something going on here that’s worth watching. The engaging artwork and sounds evoke the simplicity of the work our man is doing to get on with life in the face of losing his true love. The music inhales, swells and fades, creating the sad persistence of the story.
And perseverance is all the main character is really doing. It’s a portrait of depression and grief, so be ready for that if you’re going to give Pine a chance. The game only lasts a few hours, but it feels longer, at times we can see the paint on the artwork drying before our eyes. However, that’s the problem because it leans towards the monotony and gloom of continuing half-heartedly. The later stages reduce the interaction even further and are more like watching an animated movie with only the occasional button input. It becomes ‘Press A to continue… Present’. Whether you find the story’s resolution relatable will of course be a personal matter, but we don’t entirely agree with it, interpreting a message that loss needs to be forgotten rather than consumed. chemistry.
Pine, then, is part of the world of video games, but it is not ‘just a game’. With compelling visuals and a haunting atmosphere, it requires patience and introspection. For those wishing to explore the idea of loss and moving on, it is well worth a watch; to others, it might sound like the world’s saddest gardening simulation.
