The Path Review

Every once in a while, something comes along that makes me think about storytelling. The Path is such an item. Even though it is marketed as a short horror game, one thing became certain to me upon completing the story.

This is not a game.

The Path box art

Box art © Tale of Tales

The Path is an interactive story about growing up created by Tale of Tales, designed by Auriea Harvey & Michaël Samyn available for the PC including Mac. For the price of a movie ticket, the reader may enjoy five hours of interactive story entertainment inspired by Little Red Riding Hood. The beauty in The Path is in the storytelling through imagination using atmosphere, implication, and metaphor. Making up six chapters, each of the six sisters are given a simple task. “Go to Grandma’s house. And stay on the path.”

The best stories reside off the trail. Following the instructions, the girl may reach Grandma after a very short uneventful trip. The reader is then presented with a failure screen with a hint, and the girl restarted back home. Nothing lures the girl off the path. The reader must take the initiative to leave the path. Besides, why would any young adventurous girl follow instructions?

The reader is in charge. Using simple controls, the reader explores the forest with the aid of visual cues. The atmosphere is dark including music and interactions. Running limits visibility. Even the path disappears adding to the lost sensation. Some may find the mechanics clumsy and finding things in the forest frustrating, but the experience brings the reader closer to the character. And the reader is not required to do anything at all. Helping the reader find the way, the Girl In White prances around the forest visiting points of interest. If the character sits still, the Girl In White will come and guide the girl back to the path. Freedom of exploration allows the reader to switch sisters, go to Grandma’s house, or collect items that reveal the story. Even the dangers within the story must be initiated by the reader.

The girl initiating all of the terrible things is an important part of the story taken from old folklore, The Grandmother’s Tale that inspired Charles Perrault’s Little Red Riding-Hood. The girl’s actions lead to bad experiences.

The sisters, ranging in age from 9 to 19, have their own personalities and interests. Each girl has her own personal wolf. Facing the metaphorical wolf ends the chapter by fading to black before placing the distraught girl on the path before Grandma’s house. Fading out leaves the terrible things to the imagination of the reader implied by the context of the situation and the background revealed by interactions with items and special places.

At the end of each chapter The Path presents the reader with a score screen counting items found and secret rooms uncovered. But this turns out to be a joke meant to discourage gamers. Anyone trying to earn points misses the point. Returning home the reader may choose from the remaining girls until the epilogue.

Finding Grandma’s house is simple and dull. The things hiding in the forest shapes us into the old person resting in the house. Remember to step off the path and get lost once in a while before finding the one wolf none of us can avoid.

Telling a story through open interactive medium is not a simple task, but Tale of Tales pulls it off using atmosphere and implication. They also leave plenty for the reader’s imagination. Love or hate the experience, The Path is a marker in the evolution of storytelling. I will spend a few days in the forest pondering this.

More to explore: An article by Terri Windling about Red Riding-Hood history.

[I purchased The Path from Steam.]

Remember the Volcano

Photo by Jerry Shrock

Mt. Adams in background. Photo by Jerry Shrock 1983

Lush greenery, fir and pine floated on the breeze. The paved road, needles speckling the edge, snaked through the forest. Sunlight filtered through the canopy between openings, bright glimpses of the mountain range. Signposts reminded drivers of the CB channel where the truck operators called out their position by mile post marker. A truck rumbled around the corner carrying a load of gray logs.

The forest suddenly gave way to desolation leaving behind a wall of trees. The ridges and valleys were gray, a lifeless land  of fallen trees ripped free of bark. The gray sticks slept in lines fanned out away from the crater beyond the hillside. The fresh asphalt was a ribbon of gleaming black hanging onto the side of the ridge.

Photo by Jerry Shrock

Photo by Jerry Shrock

At the road block, visitors parked in a gravel lot. A wreck of a car, smashed and burnt, attracted attention. “A miner’s car,” the ranger said. He told the tale of the car landing in the spot, thrown from a mine a few miles away. The volcano hid behind a ridge, but the fallen timber gave her position away. Each log, even the ones on the backside of the ridge, pointed the direction to the crater. The road continued, a dusty hike winding over Independence Ridge where a trailer served cool drinks to hikers taking in the view.

Photo by Jerry Shrock

Photo by Jerry Shrock

Rising dust clouds marked log trucks following the dirt road beneath the volcano. After resting feet, the hikers trudged on up the hill pausing for rumbling trucks. A trail led to a ridge, a view into the crater and the surrounding destruction.

Onlookers peered around in silence while they imagined the blast, the searing heat rolling over the ridges followed by a rain of ash. When they spoke, the visitors kept their voices quiet in respect for the mountain. And others. The wind carried voices far. Gazing at the devastation made the little volcano models in the science fairs seem inadequate.

Life returned to the mountain. Trees and bushes emerged along the creeks, and flowers appeared across the meadows. Elk bounded in and out of the forest. Even after a quarter century, much of the blast zone remained nearly barren. Plants peeked out growing bolder. Hikers, climbers, and mountain bikers took in the scenery and imagined the destruction. Many remembered the landscape before the blast while enjoying the new face of Mount St. Helens.

Plains of Abraham 2004

Plains of Abraham 2004

Learn more by visiting the US Forest Service Mount St. Helens National Volcanic Monument website.