'Game' is a funny word. On his face, he describes carefree, fun, frivolous things. Even a very serious game of snooker, where people wear waistcoats, is at some level 'just a game'. But of course, video games can be very different, and Pine is one such game. The subtitle gives it away – A Tale of Loss – and it does exactly what it says on the tin.
You might be inclined to imagine something like Arise: A Simple Story, where some light platforming takes you through allegorical landscapes between scenes. However, Pine could decently be described as 'gameplay-light'. The main character is an unnamed man who lives alone in a forest clearing. He cuts down trees for firewood, grows vegetables on a small plot to feed himself, and does nothing but carve small statues of the woman he loves but lost.
Clearly prioritizing touchscreen controls, you start the game with a lot of finger swinging to prevent an ax from swinging into a tree, picking up and placing to simulate managing a vegetable garden, or tapping to eat food off a plate, munching munching Playing with a controller really trivializes this , as the interactions are essentially reduced to a few casual down presses, a few lethargic 'A' presses, and so on. Still, even the touch interactions are pretty standard. The idea of replicating actions on the screen with similar gestures is well and truly executed, and drawing guidelines on the screen so you can put your hand in the way of the beautiful artwork is actually kind of anti-immersive. Short puzzle interludes also risk interrupting the narrative flow.
While we appreciate this doesn't paint an exciting picture of Pine, there's something going on here that's worth a look. The artwork is attractive and the sounds remind us of the simplicity of the work our man does to get on with life in the face of the loss of his true love. The music breathes in and out, swells and fades, encouraging the sad constancy of the story.
And persistence is all the protagonist actually does. It's a portrait of depression and grief, so be prepared for that if you're going to give Pine a chance. The game is only a few hours long, but it felt longer, sometimes as if we could see the paint on the artwork drying before our eyes. That's the point, though, as it lends itself to the monotony and dreariness of the half-court rush. Later stages make interaction even easier and more like watching an animated movie with only occasional keystrokes. It becomes “Press A to continue… Existing”. Whether you find the resolution of the story relatable will of course be a very personal matter, but we didn't quite click with it, interpreting the message as being more about forgetting than digesting loss.
Pine is therefore part of the world of video games, but it is far from 'just a game'. With eye-catching visuals and an incredible atmosphere, it demands patience and introspection. For those who want to explore his ideas about loss and progress, it's worth a look; to others it might seem like the world's saddest gardening simulator.
