As befits the “very normal gardening game” in which Grunn's puzzling mystery box introduces itself with a wink, the first tool I acquired was a pair of scissors. The second instrument I acquired was a trumpet. It doesn't actually work like a trumpet and does things that a normal trumpet can't or shouldn't do. Next is a trowel. The feature of the trowel is this: it is a very good trowel. Nothing fancy. But lately, I keep digging for objects. The objects are very strange. I've got a weekend to tidy up this garden and a cozy little shed to sleep in, so I really should get on with it. But I need to reiterate: I keep digging… objects.
I'm going to clean up some trash in the bathroom. I interact with the mirror and the game says: “You don't see anything in the mirror”. I make a note that says: I don't see anything in the mirror. I check the game again and no, I still can't see anything in the mirror. Of course it's okay. It's probably just a shitty mirror. They should change it. What good is a mirror in which you can't see anything?
Playfully unnerving and cheerfully confusing, Grunn is the equivalent of being awakened by an anomaly in the space between the walls after taking a nice nap in a rocking chair handmade by a wrinkled, gleaming woodworker. It will take two days and you will need to spend your time wisely if you want to be the best gardener you can be and survive at the same time.
Your first sense that something is not right in Grunn is when the planks fall from the bridge you cross to reach the garden, with perfect timing. No problem, I thought. I'm already from there and need to do some gardening. we will cross HE When we got to the bridge, I thought, then congratulated myself for being witty. I found the shed where I would sleep for the next few nights, grabbed my scissors, and found a list the owner had given me.
Cut the grass. Cut the hedges. Aquatic plants. Collect garbage. Get rid of molehills. Easy enough. If you hold down the shift key you can move very quickly and also if you hold down the mouse button you can run the clippers like crazy, so I had a really enjoyable time jumping up and down in the garden. overgrown grass. I'm still deeply in love with the sound the scissors make. It's kind of like a pair of safety scissors that make an unreasonable noise. I was also amazed at how excellent Grunn's default mouse sensitivity was. The grass didn't stand a chance.
Before you cross the bridge you find your first Polaroid photo that shows you where the door key is, and this is basically your tutorial to keep an eye out for more. The mysteries in Grunn aren't actually about deducing anything or solving anything in the traditional sense, but a few of them almost resemble classic adventure game puzzles. Less locks and keys, more tearing of layers of wrapping paper than a giant non-Euclidean parcel. But some layers take you away from the center, some take you back to where you were before, and some have severed hands inside them.
Weirdly the games I mentally compared it to were Deathloop and Outer Wilds. There's no explicit time loop, mind you, but you do keep Polaroids between games. More importantly, you stay informed about how the strange places you'll explore fit together and when you need to obtain certain items to avoid dying a gruesome death. And this is another thing: Grunn continues to grow. The game world changes both from day to day and sometimes from hour to hour. First, you'll start compiling a mental checklist of places to visit at certain times and on certain days. The play continues the tug of war between the macabre and the whimsical throughout.
There is a gnome in the garden and other gnomes may come later. I have a passing interest in the strange specificity of folkloric canon time and circumstances, and this has led to embellishments you can easily find in any B&Q. Dwarves. Fairies. Gargoyles. Mushrooms. Grunn draws a lot of inspiration from what we might call garden knowledge; hedge expanding universe. It draws on the comforting whimsy created by the garden's intermediate role as both an extension of the house and landscaped wilderness in miniature.
My grandfather was an incredibly practical man. Read only non-fiction. He was holding a pen behind his ear. But when he looked at his garden, his face became distant and dreamy. Grunn is, in a way, a celebration of some of the things I think evoke with Tolkien's description of the Shire: that even the best-laid gardens feel like gateways to something distant and magical. The spaces between realms and the way we decorate them respect that.
But Grunn is also very dark and silly, and it's fun not just for what it shows you, but also for how it breaks up the player experience. You're obviously very good at picking up trash, and in doing so you clean up the entire street and the outside of a gas station. You feel like you have to leave this little town somewhere more orderly, and you feel Grunn chuckle a little at you for throwing away the crumpled cigarette packs when you should be trying not to die of fright. There's also that sense of feeling incredibly isolated from all the characters you meet because they're speaking in a language you can't understand, but it also takes on a sort of cute toy town vibe. A very comfortable, European purgatory.
Grunn for you? So, do you like the feeling of doing things again that used to take a long time, but really quickly? Do you like strange and delightful discoveries? 'Ah!' Do you like to say? Is it really loud when a mystery comes together? Do you love dying in various ways, unlocking new endings, and knowing how to do things a little differently next time? Do you like knowing how many coins you collected? In fact, Grunn doesn't tell you this unless you buy another coin. This is so annoying, Grunn. Please list this. Otherwise: Grunnderful stuff. Gnome's notes. Dig.
This review is based on a review structure provided by the developer.