Silver Pines Review

There’s something to be said for a video game that knows what it wants to be, even if that something isn’t particularly remarkable. Too many titles these days are polished and enjoyable, but lack a distinct identity. Call of Duty, the recent Marvel’s Wolverine, and even the occasional indie gem try to appeal to everyone and, as a result, are loved by very few. Silver Pines, on the other hand, is designed for a specific audience. It’s not the best on the market, and it has one fairly serious problem. But it sets out to be a detective story influenced by the very best horror investigate-’em-ups from the ’90s and early ’00s. And it succeeds.

If you grew up watching Twin Peaks and playing Silent Hill, you’ll feel right at home with Silver Pines. Playing as a washed-up private investigator named Red Walker, you’re sent to the titular town to find a missing musician. Almost as soon as you arrive, though, it’s clear that something isn’t quite right. The place is almost entirely abandoned, there are flesh-eating monsters wandering around, and half the doors you need to get through are blocked. Over the course of ten to fifteen hours, your job becomes not only finding the musician, but uncovering what went wrong in a place that feels ripped straight out of a forgotten early-’90s TV show.

Gameplay-wise, Silver Pines has more in common with Metroid than it does Resident Evil. This is a 2.5D game where you spend most of your time wandering around looking for keys and puzzle items while frequently backtracking to unlock doors. Not one where you can shoot every problem in its horrific face. Yes, there are scary monsters around almost every corner. Yes, your inventory is comically small, with a mysterious lockbox in safe rooms for storing unused items. And yes, you can eat random plants to restore your health. However, combat here is secondary to exploration, which works to the game’s benefit.

Shooting is Silver Pines’ weak point. It’s clunky, unsatisfying, and enemies have a habit of sponging up your bullets. There’s no reticle to help you aim, and ammo is hard to come by. Luckily, you don’t have to fight all that often. Silver Pines is a convoluted maze of streets, buildings, and doors that can only be opened from one side. Exploring it is genuinely rewarding, whether you’re finding useful items, piecing together leads, or working out how to reach an area you spotted hours earlier.

The exploration is all the more rewarding because Silver Pines’ overarching story is worth experiencing. The game isn’t exactly unique in how it approaches its narrative. This is essentially a playable version of an investigative horror show, unfolding over multiple sessions . However, it’s still well done. There are interesting characters to meet, serious themes to contemplate, and a compelling mystery to unravel. Finding the man you’re after and discovering why an isolated town has become haunted is as satisfying here as unraveling the mysteries of The X-Files or Jacob’s Ladder.

What sets Silver Pines apart from its film and television influences, though, is its atmosphere. The developers have absolutely nailed it. The game is creepy, but seldom relies on jump scares. Horrific creatures and environmental storytelling are everywhere you look, yet outright body horror is surprisingly rare. The music and visuals are excellent, maintaining an unsettling atmosphere without turning the game into something that’ll keep you up at night. There are genuinely safe, comforting spaces scattered throughout the town, as well as nightmarish locations that feel ripped straight out of The Gone World. Somehow, both are equally compelling, albeit for entirely different reasons. That’s what makes the game such a success.

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‍Silver Pines isn’t for everyone, and it's not without its shortcomings. It captures the atmosphere of classic investigative horror shows and films, letting you experience the moments they’d have cut for the sake of a limited runtime. Its exploration, visuals and soundtrack do more than enough to compensate for combat that feels like an afterthought.