A succinct but impactful critique of Gibbon's Beyond the Trees
Our Verdict
A slight but impactful piece of work, Gibbon: Beyond the Trees blends engaging gameplay and a vital ecological message seamlessly, all while being gorgeous to look at and listen to. It's a powerful, polished package that has almost nothing wrong with it.
After I completed Gibbon: Beyond the Trees, some forty minutes later, I came upon a piece written by Keza McDonald, the games editor at The Guardian, discussing the current role that games have in our lives. Speaking of the "important journalism about the geopolitical events that affect us all" that surrounds her, she expressed concern about the role that video games play, posing the question, "Should we not be reading that, instead of something about Elden Ring?"
In a society where activity is required, where does escapism reside? Is it right that we flee into our imaginations? Is there anything more beneficial we could do? Yes, we can give it our best effort. However, games may also provide a necessary sense of comfort. There's just so much we can do when it comes to geopolitics and ecocide. "Games can satisfy our urge to take action and make things better," as Keza so eloquently phrased it. Like any art, games are essential—whether they respond to the news or support us in getting through it.Gibbon: Beyond the Trees, a hand-drawn side-scrolling adventure depicting a gibbon's existence through the loss of its environment, effectively accomplishes the former. The ecological experience, as they put it, is about "the destructive force of human civilization and the beauty of wilderness." It's a brief game, requiring about an hour to complete its nine episodes, but in that little amount of time, it manages to be both very influential and a conscious awareness-raiser for an urgent real-world problem, all the while maintaining its status as an enjoyable video game.The narrative of the game isn't entirely depressing, either. It's lovely, portraying a little glimpse of the realities these creatures live with. It's jam-packed with uncomplicated drama that kept me interested in seeing what would happen next. It constantly seems like you're discovering something new as you swing through the trees at the beginning with your gibbon buddy, into burning woods, and then into run-down villages and larger cities, even though there isn't much that advances the plot.
Beyond the Trees offers a delightful gaming experience. Swing over trees and across ravines as the gibbon, timing your swings to get as much velocity as you can. It's not revolutionary, yet the game feels very well. Playing something that seems more like Tony Hawk than anything else is the feeling of timing swings precisely, pulling a trick to gain a little lift, or making a lengthy glide down a dusty hill before jumping over the edge.
The way the gameplay and narrative are interwoven is the main magical element of Beyond the Trees. In a dense forest, swinging between the trees seems quick, easy, and fun. Subsequently, however, it doesn't. The jungle begins to thin out and the swinging becomes a little more difficult as you start to notice machines in the distance.
The difficulty increases steadily, until the forest is almost completely gone. Your fingertips can no longer interact with the enchantment of the dense forest or the delight of swinging between the trees. It seems as if you've lost something tangible, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's not as simple as it seems, but some of my favorite games manage this trick, and Beyond the Trees definitely succeeds.
Beyond the Trees is an utterly comprehensive and well-executed bundle, even when it comes to the plot and gameplay. The sights are breathtakingly beautiful; every location is caught with a certain vibe, whether it is the vibrant vegetation or the busy cities. I was immediately captivated by the gibbons due to their charming and lively animation style.
The superb sound design, which captures the rustle of the forest, the cry of the gibbon, the whirr of equipment, and the clamor of a throng, aids in this. Throughout, the detail is remarkable. For example, there's a tiny noise each time the gibbon's arms grip onto anything to swing. Initially, all of these sounds are the same—you're imprisoned in a wilderness, therefore you hear knocks on wood or rustles of leaves. Once you're in the city, however, you can hear anything from the rubbing of cloth to the clink of metal. In any case, the level of detail is astounding, but all the more so considering that the game was created by a group of just fourteen individuals.
Every aspect of the game has been meticulously crafted, and this is especially evident towards the conclusion. The creator of Broken Rules, who has already made you feel really happy and touched, then goes on to explain the threat that gibbons face and provides a list of organizations that are actively supporting these endangered animals—all without coming off as overbearing. Rather, it has a really intimate feel to it, which makes you feel closer to the creator.
There may be several problems with these sorts of initiatives. They can use shock techniques to frighten you into realizing something is wrong. There are instances when they seem so intimate that one person interferes with the ability to have a really good encounter. However, sometimes these initiatives really touch home, mostly due to the high caliber of their delivery but also to how easily they clarify a problem.
Gibbon: It's crucial to read Beyond the Trees. Not only does it convey a pressing message, but it also demonstrates how a gaming can have a real-world influence. Games may be whatever they want to be, but when they bring attention to real-world problems and let us relate to them in a way that no other medium can, that's when they become really exceptional. Video games have a special ability to transport you to another world, and Beyond the Trees effectively raises awareness without actually doing anything wrong. It doesn't have to be a second longer, even if it can be brief. It does precisely what it set out to achieve.