I am almost exclusively a “cozy game” player. Playing games is one of the ways I like to de-stress, and I find doing so a lot more difficult when the whole world is trying to murder me. On top of this, I am not very good at video games. Knowing my preferences and shortcomings, I tend to choose friendly games I can play at my own pace. Don’t get me wrong, I love a challenge, but I also love not redoing the same task over and over again until I get through it without facing an untimely death. I know what hard games are called, what they look like, and, more importantly, what they don’t look like. Equipped with this airtight knowledge, I downloaded Tunic, a happy little fox game that couldn’t possibly hurt me.
As the final seconds of the download ticked away, I eagerly opened the game to meet my fuzzy orange companion, and immediately… What did the fox say (If you must stop reading here, I understand.)? You enter this world with nothing. You have no defined objective, no idea where you are and what might be around the corner, and the dialogue is… not written in the language you’re used to reading. My boyfriend went back to the language selector, thinking we chose the wrong one (What language do you think that is? I teased him). All you can do is wander until, maybe, something becomes obvious.
No, you can’t go there. Nope, not there either. You can’t jump up… or down. You can run through the spiky grass-looking stuff but not through the blocky tree-seeming things. Finally, you find a path that feels promising; you’re seeing things you haven’t seen before and a dead end. Dead end, dead end, dead end.
The world can feel cruel like it refuses to give anything up without a fight, but that’s not true. For the most part, everything you need is readily available to you, and, in fact, the world often leads you right to it. It isn’t always obvious, it isn’t always easy, and more often than not, there will be monsters in the way, but if you feel like the game is forcing you in a particular direction, you’re probably right where you need to be. And if you’re not, you probably won’t survive in that area for long. So, you’ll know.
I can’t take full credit for my playthrough. When I felt frustrated to the point of throwing things, I took a deep, cleansing breath and calmly handed the controller to my boyfriend. And I… often felt this way. I actually had to work to win fights; I constantly found myself walking circles around places I had already been, and the boss fights… don’t even get me started. I can still hear the Librarian’s theme in my head (this is not a complaint because the song is so good. The whole soundtrack is, actually. Just a comment on how long it took to finish this fight).
I wasn’t used to feeling this way playing a game, and, honestly, I wasn’t used to having to work very hard to progress. I considered quitting. It was a hard game. I thought so, the internet told me so, and my boyfriend told me so. No one would blame me, and, hey, at least I gave it a shot. I’ve quit lots of games before, and I’ll quit many games in the future. There was something about this game, however, that continued nagging at me.
It was too smart. I knew it wasn’t hard simply for the sake of being hard. I must have been missing something. So, I gave it another shot, trying to be as open-minded as possible. I tried looking at things from different perspectives and trying things in ways I wouldn’t normally. Once I started trying to understand Tunic’s world, it opened up to me. It almost felt like I could see through walls.
To be clear, the boss fights were insanely difficult for me the whole time. I had a much easier time navigating the storyline and discovering the game’s secrets.
Everything in this game is intentional. Every dead end, every seemingly unreachable chest, every infuriatingly placed tree has its purpose. If it’s not apparent now, you can assure yourself it will be later. That is what I love so much about this game. That is what keeps me thinking about it months after I started playing it. A story feels so much more beautiful when everything means something. And what a tale this game holds.
It became clear to me early on that something in this universe was off. The world and its animation are stunning, but as I explored it, I couldn’t help but perceive it as ominous, empty, and hostile. However, I didn’t want to shrink away from it; if anything, I wanted to delve into it farther and faster. I had to know why it was like this. Because I knew there must be a reason.
I won’t spoil the storyline details because discovering them is one of the most rewarding parts of the game. I will say that the artistry in how the story reveals itself in fragments and without traditional language is so incredible.
Tunic was not the game I wanted to play. I don’t know what I expected from the nicely animated game about a sword-swinging fox, but I know I didn’t assume there would be articles online comparing it to Dark Souls. And I certainly didn’t expect to love it as much as I do. This game truly softened the hard line in my brain between games I know I like and games I know I won’t. Tunic is an unexpected gem that has left me reminiscing on it long after the credits rolled.
If you want to discover Tunic’s secrets for yourself (which I highly recommend you do!), you can do so on almost any console you please! The lovely game is available on Switch, Steam, Xbox, and PS4/PS5. Be courageous (and good luck!)!
