IF YOU GAZE LONG INTO A NAVEL...
Also for: Android, iPad, iPhone, Linux, Macintosh, Playstation 4,
Windows, Xbox One
...the navel gazes also into you.
The First Tree is another one of those sensitive indie games that seem
almost beyond criticism; a game put together and funded by one man, David Wehle, in his spare time between work hours, family time and daily chores. To make
it even more sensitive the game's story deals with him coming to terms with
the loss of his father at a young age, although the game strangely has you controlling a fox in the narrator's dream, looking
for her lost cubs in a mountain range.
The connection between the two narratives is very weak, and the dream about the fox seems forced into place merely to manipulate the
emotional impact of the daddy story. Controlling the fox, you run around a big world, and occasionally dig up
some important artefacts from the narrator's life, serving as topics in a
voice-over conversation between the narrator and his wife. These snippets of dialogue take center
stage, and I often forget that I'm also looking for
the cubs.
The story, combined with the aesthetics, is the main feature, and it is very poorly told. Already from the first line of dialogue, the game tries too hard to tug at our heartstrings.
The conversation between the spouses feels contrived, spoken in a hushed manner that reeks of self-pity. The voice actors (David Wehle himself and his wife Elise Wehle) so desperately want to be understated
that it comes across as artificial, and the result is detrimental to a game
that strives to be so sincere in tone and theme.
To make matters worse, the
writing is intellectual in a way that might look great on paper, but could never work as authentic dialogue.
The pretentiousness clashes with the amateurish acting to form an unsalvageable story.
Another glaring flaw is that the game itself attempts to answer all the existential
questions it poses. Nothing is left for the player to ponder. Instead, the wife
is there to offer her support to the grieving husband, including encouraging words, explanations and added theories
of her own. This is frustrating, as you are reduced to the sole task of running around, which is so trivial it can
hardly be called a challenge.
The gameplay has you controlling the fox in third person through a few open landscapes of dream-like aesthetics. To make progress, you follow a trail of
collectible guiding stars that lead the way toward a big tree in the distance, and beams of
light that point out where to dig for tidbits on the narrator's daddy issues.
One or two very simple puzzles exist, but your biggest challenge is to just
unearth the story and then find the next area. Once you've cleared
the last one, you get a nice conclusion that I'll not spoil, with a surprise
feature that is the game's only redeeming quality.
Although the game ended on a beautiful note, the way there was almost
insufferable. The janky controls and poor animations bordered on comedy, and
undermined what little emotional potential the game ever had. The combination
of a hyper-sensitive narration and a sentimental soundtrack constantly rubbed
me the wrong way. The visuals, although nice-looking at a distance, could never bear close scrutiny.
I tried to fight the growing resentment since this is
clearly a very personal piece of work to its author. But I've dealt with
similar losses and this didn't resonate with me at all.
In spite of the merely two hours of completion time, The First Tree takes place in too much space, with too
little to find, pointless visual storytelling and a message too
straightforward to be told in such a conceited manner. I'm not
impressed with the metaphors and insights, and if you ask me this sort of
mourning narrative experiment is best served by raw, dirty, ugly or rusty emotions. At this point anything but the tired trope of beauty and natural symbolism will do.
I felt like I was invited on a hike down the road to depression, for the sole purpose of enjoying the beautiful scenery of grief along the way... And boy, does that trigger me. The subject matter is hard enough to visualize, attempting to analyze your own images through frail dialogue is an even slippier slope that, in this case, leads to navel-gazing. It fails spectacularly on all accounts, resulting in an unintentionally provocative little game I urge everyone to overlook.
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