by
Lee Mehr
, posted 6 hours ago / 338 Views
It’s no surprise to see writer/director Davey Wreden’s latest full-fledged game also double as a meta-analysis on game design. From the Kaufman-esque mind-fuckery of The Stanley Parable, to the deeply personal examination of struggling with success in The Beginner’s Guide, Wanderstop seeks to address his next burning question: what if your beloved action heroes were stuck making and sipping tea? Granted, it doesn’t sound like the making of a magnum opus at first glance, but freshman Ivy Road’s quasi-cozy game isn’t just an excuse to break new ground as a tea shop sim mixed with Harvest Moon; the architecture of its story and game design wants to interrogate how and why we interface with games’ inherent goal-oriented mindset.
Our protagonist, Alta, has only one goal in mind: to be the best fighter who’s ever lived. But when the most girl-boss of all girl-bosses experiences a string of humiliating defeats, her world starts to crumble. Desperate to learn from a legendary fighter and regain her footing, she blindly sprints into the forest. Soon thereafter, her sword starts to feel heavy and her knees grow weak until she eventually collapses. Her unconscious body is dragged to a clearing by a bald humble giant, named Boro, asking what ails her. His suggestion to her strange plight is simple and innocent: help run the tea shop.
The idea is the total inverse of what she expected to find; and yet, whether because of a magical curse or adverse mental breakdown, Alta simply can’t escape this place. She always faints within minutes, and her trusty sword somehow feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. With nothing else to do, her therapeutic recovery revolves around rather simple tasks. Crafting a special brew – naturally – requires you to gather up and dry tea leaves, alongside growing different fruit for flavoring. Holding a colored seed turns the ground into a semi-transparent hexagonal grid from which you can make various plant hybrids through a particular sequence. All flora falls under one of two categories: small hybrids are about daisy-chaining a unique colored seed sequence in a straight line for more seeds, while large hybrids have triangular patterns that make different fruit-bearing plants.
The real magic happens in the title’s namesake. Wanderstop is two stories tall to accommodate the impressive collection of glass vessels and tubes intertwined with a tall oak tree. The brewing sequence isn’t too complicated: pour in water into a large carafe, heat water with a bellow, move to pot, add tea ball and special fruit(s) for flavor, set in a holding container, and finally pour into a nice mug. There’s a certain calming rhythm to it, since most of the process is done on a rolling library ladder encircling the tree. Don’t forget: it’s impolite to leave out dirty mugs, so remember to place them in the whimsical dishwasher, which – of course – is a perpetually-running model train set that goes up a mini-waterfall. The entire display would fit right into a classic Disney cartoon.
The shop’s oddball regulars could likewise fit as cartoon side characters. Similar to other titles that fuse cozy and sim elements together (e.g. Spiritfarer), there’s a light puzzle element in satiating their desires. “Bring me something that’d rekindle an old memory,” one might say. Whether their motivation is more straightforward or esoteric, there’s a handy field guide to learn which fruit(s) will make the correct tea. And since most of said fruit’s correct seed layout isn’t immediately shown, some experimentation is required.
Although you technically have drink orders to fill out, there’s no rush to complete them. This isn’t Overcooked! or Diner Dash. There are no time windows before a customer leaves, no point bonuses for speed, no perk points to hurry processes along, nor any currency (outside a side character’s invented money as a bit). Sometimes correct conversational choices or sweeping piles of leaves will result in photos or trinkets to decorate the shop with, but they’re all cosmetic. Perhaps the only gameplay mechanic that emphasizes motor skills is training yourself to not under- or over-fill the tea cup when pouring. Even all of its achievements are tied to story progression.
One benefit of running a tea business is you can consume the product; in fact, it’s encouraged by your “boss.” This comes back to Wanderstop’s greater goal: Alta’s not only here to serve customers but also herself. Ivy Road’s foundation distills this invisible-yet-tangible expectation to do everything on your time. There’s no harm drinking in the colorful Fortnite-esque landscapes alongside your latest brew, which helps you reminisce of time’s past. But whatever the concoction – and its varied side effects – every new sip adds more background and emotional depth to her character over time.
Relaxing at your own pace can be therapeutic as orders become more complex. “Right, so, for a few minutes at the height of the full moon, you’ll have a window to plant a large hybrid with the seeds you gathered after cross-breeding two different plant species. From there, gently set my flavors in this particular order after yada yada yada.” I’m being hyperbolic with this imagined scenario for comedic effect, but the game’s demands do get more specific over time – for both cultivating materials and brewing the tea itself. Wanderstop’s road is practically littered with speed bumps – elevating its runtime to around 12 hours, but not primarily to justify the $25 price tag; the pace is thematically connected with the game’s grander message.
The intention may be sincere, but such a protracted timeframe for this can’t help but feel rather… boring. The game actually acknowledges – and even celebrates – ensuing boredom through Boro’s dialogue; in his humble eyes, those are the moments Alta most sorely needs. But that partly feels like a ‘get out of jail free’ card. Mechanically speaking, controls can feel a bit fiddly for certain interactions; one of the most annoying issues (currently) is how specific you need to be when placing Alta next to the tea-pouring rope in order for the UI to acknowledge your desired action. Past any surface annoyances, it doesn’t properly manage that cozy game tightrope. It may present a nonchalant aura around work, but the story only continues through successful inputs. I’m not sure Ivy Road escapes its own critiques around checklist game design and efficiency maximization when – ironically – those little moments felt the most mechanically compelling.
It also doesn’t help when Wanderstop’s writing fares poorer than Wreden’s previous. Granted, that was going to be a high bar to clear anyways, and it still deserves high praise in wedding potent themes through an unexpected template. Wreden’s stated examination about “burnout” eventually goes further and deeper in ways I didn’t see coming. The issue is the in-between diminishing the beginning and end. My previous “most girlboss” dig is meant to highlight the script’s tendency of making most characters into overwritten personality templates. Boro’s saccharine wisdom typically works, whereas Gerald The Knight’s effusive ALL CAPS dad energy doesn’t, for instance. Between various characters and some collectible books, most of its humor and some of its humanity doesn’t land.
If nothing else, Wanderstop’s design & storytelling structure feels like something that could only come from Davey Wreden. It’s not a 4th-wall-breaking walking sim, but it still interrogates how we interface with modern games’ goal-fixated structures through an unexpected template. It’s the kind of substantive concept that’s – fittingly – worth boring into with others while enjoying your own elixir of choice. But the more meaningful meta-analysis of the game proper comes to a head when interacting with its world becomes more and more stale. Nevertheless, Ivy Road has made a game guaranteed to be adored by some people, just not by me.
Contractor by trade and writer by hobby, Lee’s obnoxious criticisms have found a way to be featured across several gaming sites: N4G, VGChartz, Gaming Nexus, DarkStation, and TechRaptor! He started gaming in the mid-90s and has had the privilege in playing many games across a plethora of platforms. Reader warning: each click given to his articles only helps to inflate his Texas-sized ego. Proceed with caution.
This review is based on a digital copy of Wanderstop for the XS, provided by the publisher.
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