Turnip Mountain is the kind of game that sounds a bit like a joke before you actually play it. We take control of a determined little turnip with two enormous arms, with the straightforward goal of climbing back up a mountain, and that is essentially where the narrative begins and ends. There is no elaborate story trying to distract us from the central idea, and that simplicity can feel a little bare if we are looking for a substantial adventure with characters or lore. Yet it works precisely because the game knows what it wants to be. Before long, the absurdity of the premise becomes secondary to the much more interesting question of whether we can make that next jump, find a shortcut or finally master a movement that previously sent our vegetable tumbling down the mountain.
The reason Turnip Mountain works as well as it does is its unusual control system. Each arm is controlled independently, with the two analogue sticks on the DualSense handling movement while the triggers allow us to grab onto surfaces. That sounds simple enough, but translating those movements into deliberate actions takes some getting used to. Early on, we were often moving more like an awkward marionette than an experienced climber, and the need to think about both arms simultaneously can make even basic manoeuvres surprisingly demanding. There is a genuine learning curve here, and the controls can become physically tiring during longer sessions, but the important part is that they are consistent. Once our brain starts translating stick movements into arm movements automatically, the awkwardness turns into a surprisingly expressive form of platforming.
That is when the physics become the game’s greatest strength. Rather than simply reaching from one ledge to the next, we can use our arms to build momentum, swing ourselves around, launch across gaps and manipulate our position in ways that gradually become more ambitious. Jumping is particularly satisfying once we understand how the direction and timing of our arm movements affect the trajectory, although the precision required can also be the source of some considerable frustration. Turnip Mountain generally does a good job of introducing its ideas gradually, adding elements such as ropes, moving surfaces, slippery areas, springy platforms and other hazards without drowning us in new mechanics. Some of the later sections can push that philosophy a little too far, with particularly demanding sequences requiring repeated precision and leaving very little room for recovery.
Fortunately, failure rarely becomes the tedious punishment it could have been. Checkpoints and relatively compact sections mean that a failed attempt usually sends us back close enough to the action that trying again feels worthwhile rather than exhausting. That encourages experimentation, which is important because Turnip Mountain is at its best when we stop worrying about the safest route and start wondering what might be possible. There are alternative paths, coins and hidden rewards to tempt us away from the obvious route, although the cosmetic nature of many of these rewards means that exploration is ultimately driven more by curiosity and personal achievement than by meaningful progression. The ability to unlock different color palettes and cosmetic headwear gives us something extra to chase, but it is hardly a compelling progression system in itself.
Visually, Turnip Mountain embraces restraint. Its minimalist, monochrome presentation gives the game a distinctive identity without covering the screen in unnecessary effects, while the unlockable palettes provide some welcome variation. We particularly like how this simplicity complements the physical nature of the game: there is little clutter competing with our attention while we are concentrating on where to put our hand next. At the same time, the initial black-and-white presentation can come across as somewhat bland, making the color unlocks feel almost more important aesthetically than they are as rewards. The audio follows a similarly understated approach, with a playful soundtrack that fits the game’s eccentric personality but does not make a particularly strong impression and can become repetitive over time.
The most impressive thing about Turnip Mountain is that such a deliberately strange idea manages to become a genuinely engaging test of coordination. The option to play locally with two people, each controlling one arm, adds another layer of potential chaos, although we suspect the solo experience is where the game’s mechanics are most satisfying because mastering both limbs ourselves makes the eventual breakthroughs feel distinctly personal. The unusual two-mouse control option on PC is another wonderfully eccentric touch, even if it is unlikely to be the preferred way for most players to climb. On PS5, the DualSense provides a straightforward way into a control scheme that initially feels anything but straightforward, and once it clicks, the combination of physics, precision and experimentation gives Turnip Mountain a character all of its own. It is not a game for players who want a deep narrative or completely effortless controls, and its more exhausting difficulty spikes can test our patience, but for those willing to wrestle with its unconventional mechanics, there is real satisfaction in finally making the summit. Sometimes a good climbing game does not need a grand story; sometimes all we need is a turnip, a mountain and the stubborn belief that this time we can make that jump.
Score: 7.7/10