Cairn Review (PS5): A poignant treatise on playable persistence

It’s natural, I think, for us to lose our Icarian impulses as we grow older. I no longer climb trees or scrape my knees, and it’s been a long time since I’ve properly fallen over. As you stumble towards adulthood, you learn how to navigate the world in a way that shelters your body from harm, because injury is a distraction, an inefficiency. But there’s a reason the story of Icarus and Daedalus sticks in the mind. Deep within us all, there is an instinct to ignore the advice and fly too close to the sun. Few games can coax this kind of interesting brashness out of players — but Cairn, the latest offering from The Game Bakers, masterfully evokes the Grecian myth in interactive form.

The crux of Cairn is reaching the top of Mount Kami, a summit that is yet to be crested by mortals. You play as Aava, a professional climber embalmed in tape like a gorpcore mummy, willing to risk everything to make the summit. Getting there is a meticulous, unforgiving process. You press Square to attach to the rock face, and then cycle through your four limbs, using the sticks to push your fingers and toes towards crevices and footholds. Push the limits of her wingspan (and you will do this often, through anger or gamesmanship), and Aava’s body will convulse. When she’s uncomfortable, you’ll know about it, and then the panic sets in. Stay too long in a compromised position, as Aava shrieks and shivers, and you’ll fall, your body clattering against Kami’s jagged protrusions.

Anatomy of a Fall 

If you’re lucky, you will have remembered to stab a piton (or five) into the mountain’s shell, the web of wires protecting you from certain death. You can try to do this when you know you’re going to fall, after committing a questionably confident manoeuvre, but it often attaches a moment too late. That Icarian impulse, eh? But that’s not the only thing you have to worry about in this poignant survival-climber. Aava gets hungry, thirsty, and freezing cold, and the tape on her fingers will eventually fray, so you need to reach save points throughout the mountain where you can pitch your Bivouac and perform some maintenance. 

You’ll cook tasty meals from collected mountain flora, snooze, repair your pitons, and of course, apply more tape. That last part is a decidedly intricate affair: you have to rotate the sticks gently to cover each of Aava’s fingers, which can take the best part of five minutes if you’re clumsy. It’s brilliantly mindful, a piece of intentional design that reminds you exactly what you’re doing and how important it is to prepare and not push your luck too hard.

Cairn’s Hidden History: An Archaeological Ascent

But what makes Cairn so special, above all of this mechanical intrigue, is that it is first and foremost a narrative adventure. As you proceed, you’ll find skeletons, intriguing loners, fellow climbers, and lost civilizations hiding in Kami’s cubbies. Each rock face hides cave systems replete with easter eggs and archaeological finds, offering targets beyond the sheer wall of stone. There’s also plenty of dialogue and cutscenes, and a reason why Aava is doing this, which is unclear when you start, but becomes clear and powerful by the end. Her network of friends and family crops up throughout the journey, via cute (and cutting) voicemails sent to Aava’s adorable travelling companion, Climbot. 

Cairn’s gorgeous art direction (from comic book artist Mathieu Bablet) helps maintain a sense of otherworldly wonder as you scale the terrifying peak, constantly introducing new sun-soaked colour palettes and mind-melting set pieces as you reach each checkpoint — and instinctively turn around to view how far you’ve come. At the touch of a button, you can see the entire line you’ve taken from the beginning of your playthrough, which helps quiet the voice in your head telling you that you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. And in persisting, you are constantly challenged and rewarded in a way that never feels rote. 

Loose Rocks

The only issue here is the game’s performance, which on my base PS5 is a little wobbly. There are a few bugs here and there, and some issues with consistency, which is to be expected for a game with so much interactive real estate, but still worth noting. The physics engine simply does not compute with some parts of the wall, which can tank the joy of imaginative orienteering, but more importantly, the framerate is reactive to weather events and vistas, which can be deeply annoying in the middle of a climb, but also kills the immersion somewhat when you’re trying to soak in the atmosphere. It never stopped me from continuing on, but I’m hopeful that The Game Bakers can iron out the kinks here, as it will only render this game into a more satisfying peach. 

The Verdict

Regardless, this is an astonishing game from a small team, a work of sheer focus and strife that I’m sure feels cathartic to get over the line. It’s frustrating by nature (though there are accessibility options if you’re struggling), but it’s one of those where I was so caught up in the spirit of the experience that I wanted to do it without any help. There were plenty of moments when it felt like I wouldn’t make it, and I wanted to give up after losing half an hour of progress to a very stupid fall that had me jabbering at the screen. But that’s the point, isn’t it? You need this contrast to make a game compelling — and it ensures the clarity once you reach your objective is much more rewarding. 

Above all, while it lets you see where you’re going, I like that Cairn doesn’t let you plan your route explicitly like Death Stranding. You must find secret maps that overlay neatly onto rock faces and choose a path of agreeable resistance, or simply remember where you are in the middle of the wall. This design choice imparts that Icarian impulse onto the player in a way that feels like a gulp of fresh water, and I am keen to keep reaching for faraway crevices, even though it seems ridiculous, in the hope that it may pay off. Sometimes it does, and sometimes you ragdoll into the abyss. But I’m glad to have been allowed to make the choice, either way.