Exploring the Quirky Experience of the Samsung TriFold
I was on the verge of giving up on the Galaxy Z TriFold. We had a solid case for a refund from the seller — they claimed it was the Taiwanese version, but the phone that showed up had a Chinese serial number. This meant no Google services and a bunch of unfamiliar apps asking for sensitive permissions. It felt off. I figured it was best to return it and try to get the US version instead. Then Samsung pulled the plug on it.
Suddenly, the TriFold sitting on my desk transformed from a quirky detour in my quest for a proper TriFold into the only one I was likely to get my hands on, probably ever. It was this device or nothing.
Around the same time, a reader pointed me to a post on a forum with detailed steps for flashing a Singapore ROM onto a Chinese TriFold. The internals are the same, the post claimed, so everything should work fine once the new software is installed. Flashing a new ROM isn’t overly complicated, but there’s always the risk of bricking your phone. I had never done it before, but it felt like my only shot at experiencing the true TriFold. I lit a candle for good vibes and got to work.
Four hours later, after figuring out how to run a Windows virtual machine on my MacBook, downloading all the necessary drivers and software, and reading concerning phrases like “soft brick” more times than I cared to, it finally worked. My security concerns faded; the strange apps asking for permission to track my every move were gone. It was the same phone, but it felt completely new. Mission accomplished! But… what exactly is it?
Most of the time, I feel like I’m not using it to its full potential. The TriFold is hefty, and when it’s folded, using the outer screen for regular phone tasks feels like a constant reminder that I’m missing out. The inner screen is so expansive that if I’m only doing one thing, I feel like I’m wasting all that space. I need to open multiple windows, pair a keyboard and mouse, start a spreadsheet, watch a video — anything. Before long, I get overwhelmed and fold it back up, and the cycle begins anew.
I even started an Xbox Game Pass subscription to see if gaming would be a good fit, but I found fewer games with touchscreen controls than I had hoped. Bluetooth controllers didn’t help my dream of curling up on the couch with my phone-turned-tablet and playing any game I wanted. If I have to set up this $3,000 phone with a keyboard and mouse just to play a simple game, then I’ve probably missed the mark somewhere.
The cameras are decent, but they feel underwhelming for the price. You get a solid 200-megapixel main camera, average 3x telephoto and ultrawide cameras, and a couple of 10-megapixel selfie cameras for video calls on both screens. It would be neat to fold the panel housing the rear cameras and use the adjacent part of the inner screen to frame selfies, but that’s not an option. You can switch the camera controls to the outer screen and take rear camera selfies with the phone fully unfolded, but you’ll look a bit silly doing it.
That’s just the nature of the TriFold: it’s all or nothing. Unlike other foldables, you can’t unfold the Z TriFold partially to use a section of the inner screen. You have to choose between tablet or phone. Plus, unlike the book-style foldables I’m used to, the TriFold doesn’t have a way to prop itself up. The included case lacks a kickstand; Samsung offers a separate kickstand case, but it’s not available in the US. The inner screen’s 4:3 aspect ratio is great for watching videos, but I’d enjoy it more if I could set it down easily.
On the bright side, the TriFold isn’t as cumbersome in the side pocket of my yoga pants as I feared. I wouldn’t run a 5K with it in there, but if I’m walking around the house with my hands full, it’s manageable for a bit.
This winter, I developed a newfound appreciation for book-style foldables, especially the super slim and light Z Fold 7. It really shines when you add a travel keyboard, turning it into a coffee shop or airplane computer. Sure, the TriFold can serve the same purpose. The larger screen and ability to multitask make it a powerful tool for leaving your laptop at home. I can fit more on the screen: keep Slack open while working in another window or have a Google Doc visible during a video call. The TriFold delivers on its promise to do these tasks better than any single-hinge foldable.
But none of that compensates for the extra bulk and weight compared to a standard folding phone. You’re still using a device that would prefer to be a phone. It’ll insist on opening apps when you’re trying to access a better experience in a Chrome tab. Good luck managing two Google profiles simultaneously. The speakers are still just phone speakers, and they’re not great. And if the battery dies, so does your connection to the digital world.
I’m not ready to abandon the trifold dream. The more time I spend with this version, the more I believe that Huawei’s accordion-style design might be the better approach. The Z TriFold’s outer panels fold inward to cover the middle of the inner screen, with a separate cover screen on the back. Huawei’s design folds into a Z-shape, using one of the main screen’s panels as the cover screen. It’s a bit lighter and sleeker when fully folded, making it more comfortable to use in phone mode.
In any case, I don’t have to worry about recommending anyone buy a TriFold. I wouldn’t, and even if you wanted to, you probably can’t. Samsung kind of revealed its hand when it discontinued the TriFold — it was always more of a concept than a practical product. It was too expensive, bulky, and impractical for today’s world. Even now that I have it working and it no longer feels like a security risk, I’ll stick with the Z Fold 7 for all my mobile computing needs.
