The Perfect Pencil introduces John, a headless figure who awakens in a realm defined by unsettling beauty and psychological weight. The story begins when a mysterious voice offers a strange gift: a film projector to serve as a new head.
Through this lens, John views a world ruled by the White Beast, a wolf-like creature representing the source of everyone’s fall. To escape this kingdom, John must hunt down and destroy this manifestation of fear. Studio Cima builds the experience around mental health and personal development, turning abstract internal struggles into tangible threats. The atmosphere plays like a fever dream, with bedtime iconography taking on a sinister edge.
You meet sleepwalkers wrapped in junk, and giant, bouncing babies that threaten to crush your resolve. The protagonist’s purpose remains shrouded in mystery, which keeps the stakes feeling personal. Every interaction carries a nervous tension, since allies and enemies can feel equally disturbing. The hand-drawn world becomes a grim stage for a story about facing trauma, with John pushing through a landscape that feels fragile and deeply threatening.
Scanning the Surreal Scenery
Exploration serves as the heartbeat of this experience, built around a vast, interconnected map that rewards curiosity. John moves through the world using the Camera Obscura fixed to his neck, which functions as a specialized scanning tool.
As you move through the environment, a personal radar pings with increasing frequency to signal nearby secrets or objects. Activating a scan reveals flavor text that provides essential context for John’s deteriorating mental state. These pings and the text they unlock reinforce the oppressive mood, making each discovery feel like another shard of a fractured psyche.
The layout can get dense, so progress depends on finding and breaking map orbs scattered across different zones. These orbs provide a generalized view of your surroundings while leaving out fine detail, so orientation still comes from careful movement and memory. The visual design remains a standout feature, especially in areas like the Soft Forest.
Swaying pink blooms and dancing mushrooms create a sense of life, and spreading mould signals decay underneath. Progress follows familiar genre rhythms: gaining new abilities opens shortcuts and grants access to treasures that previously stayed out of reach. That loop of backtracking and discovery echoes the act of returning to old thoughts and seeing them differently, keeping the physical route tied to John’s internal state.
The Aggressive Path to Inner Willpower
Combat in The Perfect Pencil demands precision and strategic aggression, as John wields a giant pencil against a variety of Tim Burton-esque foes. The system uses a Courage and Willpower mechanic, moving away from standard health drops. John possesses four circles of Willpower that represent his health.
Restoring them requires building Courage by successfully landing melee attacks on enemies. Once the energy meter fills, John can execute a Healing Strike. This move converts offensive momentum into recovery, pushing you to stay engaged with danger to remain alive.
The rhythm creates a risk-reward cycle that recalls the rally system in Bloodborne, where hesitation invites failure and confident pressure keeps you afloat. Success earns Babls, glowing spheres used to purchase filaments for the projector head or new techniques from a training entity. Players can shape their approach further through Perspectives, which grant powerful boons paired with meaningful drawbacks.
The “Your Head is a Fishing Net” perspective grants extra Courage for more frequent healing while reducing the Babls you collect. Boss encounters escalate these mechanics into major setpieces, featuring massive entities like giant babies that act as literal manifestations of psychological themes. These fights test your ability to read patterns, dodge with discipline, and time Healing Strikes cleanly while the arena turns chaotic.
Symbolism Through Every Struggle
The game’s sharpest work comes from tying narrative themes directly to its enemies and side tasks. Every creature John encounters mirrors a specific internal conflict or societal pressure. You might fight men crawling under the weight of strollers, or foes hiding within stacks of pillows, each representing a different facet of fear or avoidance.
This symbolism extends to the eccentric NPCs populating the world. One character seeks the pieces of a smashed alarm clock simply to scratch an itch she cannot reach, while another requests a cast to justify his refusal to act. These moments point toward ideas like imposter syndrome and the comfort found in stagnation. Ability gains also carry story weight.
The dash ability arrives after John pushes through mental ennui and resists the temptation to remain safe and inert, so a movement upgrade reads like a change in mindset rather than a routine power-up. Many NPCs and enemies resemble variations of the protagonist himself, reinforcing the idea that the world reflects his splintered identity. As John fights through these bizarre landscapes, the conflict becomes literal, with each encounter framed as another piece of himself that keeps him trapped.
The Review
The Perfect Pencil
The Perfect Pencil succeeds as a thoughtful, visually arresting take on the exploration-heavy platformer. By transforming psychological struggles into tangible gameplay loops, it offers a rare depth where every mechanical growth mirrors a personal breakthrough. While the backtracking and distant checkpoints occasionally test one's patience, the striking hand-drawn art and innovative healing system create an experience that remains deeply memorable. It is a challenging journey through a fractured mind that rewards those willing to face its discomfort.
PROS
- Striking hand-drawn visual style.
- Innovative risk-reward healing mechanic.
- Meaningful integration of story and abilities.
- Rich, symbolic world-building.
CONS
- Punishing distances between save points.
- Convoluted map layout.
- Significant amount of backtracking.
