The UnderGarden

All of these collectables are tucked away down optional pathways, hidden behind slightly tougher environmental puzzles, but can safely be ignored if you don't want the trouble. For those who do take up the challenge of 100 per cent completion, unlocking different skins and horns for your pixie as you go, you're looking at a play time that easily rivals the single-player campaigns of certain angry, noisy blockbuster shooters.

It's not the gameplay challenge that frustrates, but the game does feature some niggling quirks that take the edge off its dreamy soporific fugue. Mouse control on the PC isn't great, and navigating some of the twistier sections while dragging a cloud of fruit can be a snaggy affair. The game's camera also has a tendency to zoom out at fixed points, revealing the next large section you'll need to pass through.

That's fine, but it means that trying to carry out any fine movements in these boundary areas becomes a real fiddle, as the viewpoint lurches in and out every time you nudge over the trigger point. It also means your movement pointer changes orientation, as it's attached to the camera, not the character. Navigation, inevitably, takes a hit. It's never fatal – you can't die in The UnderGarden – but anything that breaks that comfortable immersion feels more noticeable thanks to the game's snug ambience.

The UnderGarden is also sometimes too obtuse for its own good, giving you the basics but neglecting to explain which elements are there for show and which are tied to your score. There are two similar gauges at the bottom of the screen, for example, and the game doesn't bother to tell you what they show.

More mysterious are the musicians, tiny pixie characters found sitting in the gameworld, burbling along on little musical instruments. Their music feeds into the soundtrack as well, and grows louder the closer you get to them. Pick them up and the foliage blossoms and dances as you pass, while weird frogspawn things become magnetically attracted to you.

Like all the interactions in the game, it feels immediate and rewarding, but it also feels important. Am I supposed to save these guys? Take them somewhere? Or can I pick up and drop them as I please?

The UnderGarden isn't telling, and it's here that the world of rigid game rules and free-form ambient experience chafe slightly as they rub against each other. Allowing the player to discover how the game world works is fine. Leaving them unsure as to where their obligations, if any, actually lie leaves a slightly distracting and muddled "am I doing this right?" feeling at the core of an otherwise lovely game.

Still, The UnderGarden is an undeniably lovely place to visit and one that provides more gameplay structure than you might expect. It doesn't always succeed in finding a balance between its chilled-out exploration and OCD completist tendencies, but when the formula clicks, the result is both charming and visually stunning. It doesn't quite deserve to be ranked alongside spiritual forebears such as LocoRoco and fl0w, but it comes close enough to make a few evenings basking in its warm glow an easy recommendation.