The Path isn't much of a game. But whatever it is, it's one hell of one of those.

The developers at Tale of Tales are up front about their disdain for the traditional trappings of videogames, such as challenges, puzzles, obstacles. On their web site, they say a fair amount of high-falutin' stuff that will probably befuddle the average gamer, and that seems to be okay by them. The Path obviously isn't for the average gamer. A phrase the developers used that came to mind after I'd played The Path was "poetry of experience", which they define as follows:

It's about being in the skin of a character, living another life for a moment. About taking the time to explore an idea, to look at it from all sides and experience the intricate complexity of even the simplest of things. This in stark contrast to the epic scale and simplistic themes of traditional videogame narratives.

Without going into too much detail, let me say that if you're open to an experience unlike what you get in a videogame, look no further than this horror-esque riff on the Little Red Riding Hood myth. If that piques your curiosity, I recommend you read no further. Go pony up your ten bucks here, and then come back after you're done, because I'd love to hear what you thought.

If, however, you're skeptical -- and who could blame you? -- read the review after the jump.

Horror in videogames peaked almost exactly ten years ago, when Silent Hill was released in early 1999. More specifically, it peaked in the first fifteen minutes of that game. The lead character wrecks his car and then chases his wayward daughter through a mysterious town. Is it a dream? She keeps receding into the mist, drawing him deeper, into darker alleys, until something - or some things - overcome him. Then he wakes up and has to play through a bunch of awkward combat and contrived puzzles. As brilliant as Silent Hill was, it succeeded in spite of its gameplay, not because of it.

The Path is like the opening of Silent Hill. Whereas Silent Hill played on the anxiety of a parent separated from a child, The Path plays on the more existential level of what it's like to be a child. Specifically, a girl. If you're a woman, or if you have a daughter, The Path will be uniquely disturbing. But unlike Silent Hill, there is no combat, and there are no puzzles. In fact, you could argue that there is no gameplay.

Think of it as an adventure game minus the trappings of an adventure game. In an adventure game, you tend to remember the puzzles. Babel fish, mayonnaise on a slice of bread slid under a door, cat fur and maple syrup, a mime and a police motorcycle, stuff with musical notes that confounded me because I don't have a good ear for that stuff. Those are things I remember from adventure games. I couldn't tell you the first thing about the context for any of them. But what if you removed the puzzles and instead presented a set of powerful images revolving around a unique theme? What would you remember then? This is how The Path is designed.

I'm reluctant to just describe how it plays. A lot of the experience is figuring it out, inasmuch as there's anything to figure out. The best way to play The Path is to install it, to doubleclick the icon on your desktop, and to then be confronted by a screen with six girls biding their time in a room. Where you go from there is the point. It's a swirl of music, animation, things scratching to reach you through your monitor, rudimentary drawings, snatches of text, metaphors, unexplained characters, and most importantly, how you interpret all these things.

Still not sold? Fair enough. The way it works is this: you select one of the girls, and you then control her along the path to grandmother's house. For all intents and purposes, it looks just like a 3D action game. If you follow the path as instructed, no harm, no foul. The girl comes to her destination, where she spends a little quality time with her bed-ridden grandmother and no one's the worse for the wear. But if you stray from the path, she will encounter strange set pieces, some of which will alter grandmother's house when she finally arrives. You'll collect items that return different bits of text for each girl, fleshing out their personalities. There's a wolf, usually metaphorical, waiting for each girl. Each girl's trip to grandmother's house is a journey that culminates in a dynamically generated dream sequence - or is it? - based on what the girl did in the woods. And once each girl has made the journey - well, that's for you to find out. I don't pretend to understand it, but it made quite an impression on me.

The girls are all different and here is where the genius of developer Tale of Tales is most evident. From the way each girl is animated to the situations she encounters to the little snippets of text for discovered items, this is the sort of writing that should be in more games. You can't get through The Path without a powerful sense for what separates Ginger from Scarlet from Ruby from the others. So few games manage one memorable character. The Path manages at least six.

You might even have a favorite, and I'd invite you to consider what that says about you. There aren't many games that tell you something about yourself. And - if I may indulge in a bit of pretension - that's one of the first things I consider in my own personal litmus test for Art. I'm not saying The Path is Art or even art -- that's for you to decide -- and I can't claim it's much of a videogame. But I whole-heartedly recommend it to anyone who wants to see the strange new directions talent, insight, and creativity can take videogaming.

(Obligatory gripe: My only complaint is the slow crawl of text when the girls comment on items. It's a real disincentive to discover more about the characters. I don't mean to second-guess their design, but I really hope Tale of Tales patches the game to allow the text to appear instantly. While it might seem like a minor issue, it was the thing that most kept me at arms length from the wonderful work Tale of Tales had done.)