Summary: 3.5/5.0
The First Tree is a narrative exploration-based game where the player assumes the role of a mother fox searching for her cubs. We learn through narration that the gameplay represents the dream of a man named Joseph. As the game progresses, Joseph is describing his dream to his wife Rachel. It is immediately clear that Joseph is going through some sort of loss, and he uses the dream to reminisce. If you've had a similar experience with loss, this game will probably resonate with you -- it feels very much like a project that the creator used to work through their own grief, and thus has a very authentic tone.
Developer: David Wehle
Genre: Interactive Story
Release Date: November 30, 2018
Platform: Nintendo Switch (Also available on PC, PS4, & XBOXONE)
Price: $9.99
Narrative
As with most games in this genre, my biggest complaint is over-explaining to the player with summary "in case you didn't figure this out on your own" dialogue. After a wonderful opening dialogue and graceful hint-dropping, the subtlety of the exact situation is undermined when the same events are just explicitly stated later. This is when the dialogue seems the least realistic, because of course Rachel would already know what’s going on. Speaking of which, hats off to Rachel - she is much more patient than I probably would be. Joseph is annoying. He is wallowing in a combination of grief and self-pity. As he tells Rachel these memories, there's not much that is redeeming for Joseph. He spent years refusing to acknowledge something he understood was valuable, and now regrets his behavior, but at the same time doesn't seem to take accountability for it.
[For the purposes of discussing the narrative, there are some light spoilers in this paragraph.] Joseph spends his life trying not to do what people expect him to, and I really related to that struggle. We learn that he found a passion, went to school to pursue it, but then couldn't find a job in his field. At the conclusion of the game, we learn that Joseph has moved with Rachel back to his childhood home. it's presented as a happy ending, but it feels more like a futile and belated effort to "make things right.” I was left feeling pity and anger more than relief. But maybe that's because I so badly don't want that to be my own story. Joseph acts as though his heartbreak is completely unique and nobody else could possibly understand his pain, when his own wife has a far more tragic backstory, in my opinion.
Mechanics
This game is mostly about the narrative, but does include some light puzzle and platforming mechanics. The movement and sensitivity took some getting used to. Jumps are in slow motion, and the fox avatar gets awkwardly stiff, so it feels much less natural than the normal movement. there were one or two points where I got completely lost for a while, but otherwise it was relatively easy to figure out where to go. there were some memories that were broken out into multiple checkpoints. I understand the intent of this structure -- you don't want too much dialogue at once -- but this became a bit confusing if you found the second part of the memory first, which I did, in several instances, because apparently my in-game sense of direction is as bad as my in-real-life sense of direction.
Environment
The First Tree is really beautiful to explore. There aren't very many places where it was obvious that "the game world ends here.'' You get to run around a few different areas, and there's never really a sense of urgency or anxiety despite the narrative themes. The music is also gorgeous and soothing, perfectly suited to the environment. My only suggestion for improvement would have been independent SFX 1 music controls so that I could more easily hear the rain.
Conclusion
Overall, The First Tree does have a compelling story (even if you don't care for the storyteller). It's a beautifully packaged narrative experience, perfect for a snowy afternoon at home. If you're looking for a more interactive game though, this probably isn't for you. The game elements are pretty few and far between.
