By showing you things you find familiar, Tunic tells you what it isn't.
When Tunic begins, you're a fox in a Tunic waking up on a beach. Anyone in my age group and, perhaps some younger cohort I can't really extrapolate the lived experience of, will immediately think, "Oh, I'm playing Link's Awakening". When you get a few steps into the game your first goal becomes clear, you're to ring two bells, each in different locations. To gamers of any age, this information communicates to you that you are also playing Dark Souls. But by telling you this so immediately and so begging-for-a-lawsuit brazenly, Tunic is making clear that it is neither Link's Awakening nor Dark Souls. By this point in the game it has, however, shown you what it is-- a game about an instruction booklet.
Tunic strives to capture the experience, perhaps most concretely, of a child who grew up with a love for gaming and a mother tongue that no one in the games industry had a love for localizing. Left to their own devices, these kids had to rely on careful reading of every available context, poring over the included instruction manual for every game when stuck in any seemingly impossible impass. When Tunic shows you a Link fox with a Dark Souls combat set, it's telling you that you already know what's going on, and encouraging you to focus on what the game instead is really about, which is the experience of the unbridled joy that games can bring in the form of discovery.
Impressively, Tunic's combat system and enemies are finely tuned to be challenging yet fair. Its interconnected world maybe not perfect, but designed well enough for the player to internalize and familiarize themselves with. It has plenty of depth, but doesn't overstay its welcome when you feel satisfied and ready to beat it. Tunic is a gamer's game.
When Tunic begins, you're a fox in a Tunic waking up on a beach. Anyone in my age group and, perhaps some younger cohort I can't really extrapolate the lived experience of, will immediately think, "Oh, I'm playing Link's Awakening". When you get a few steps into the game your first goal becomes clear, you're to ring two bells, each in different locations. To gamers of any age, this information communicates to you that you are also playing Dark Souls. But by telling you this so immediately and so begging-for-a-lawsuit brazenly, Tunic is making clear that it is neither Link's Awakening nor Dark Souls. By this point in the game it has, however, shown you what it is-- a game about an instruction booklet.
Tunic strives to capture the experience, perhaps most concretely, of a child who grew up with a love for gaming and a mother tongue that no one in the games industry had a love for localizing. Left to their own devices, these kids had to rely on careful reading of every available context, poring over the included instruction manual for every game when stuck in any seemingly impossible impass. When Tunic shows you a Link fox with a Dark Souls combat set, it's telling you that you already know what's going on, and encouraging you to focus on what the game instead is really about, which is the experience of the unbridled joy that games can bring in the form of discovery.
Impressively, Tunic's combat system and enemies are finely tuned to be challenging yet fair. Its interconnected world maybe not perfect, but designed well enough for the player to internalize and familiarize themselves with. It has plenty of depth, but doesn't overstay its welcome when you feel satisfied and ready to beat it. Tunic is a gamer's game.