Memores acti prudentes futuri
It always makes me wince when qualitative descriptions are used by developers and publishers when marketing games. Whilst I understand the necessity to promote those aspects of the experience that will likely attract the most attention, any talk about how impressive the world, or in the case of Dontnod’s Life is Strange, how well written the story is, has alarm bells sounding in my head almost immediately. The presumption and arrogance of some marketing guru telling me how I should think or feel about something does absolutely nothing but try to set me against the game before a button is pressed.
Mercifully in the case of the French developer’s time rewinding adventure the promotional guff isn’t the spectre at the feast that it could have been. Whist far from perfect, Life is Strange is a beautiful and melancholic reflection upon friendship and the irrevocability of our choices. Imagine Steins;Gate, but with the courage of its convictions.
The story centres on Blackwell Academy in the fictional town of Arcadia Bay, where protagonist Max Caulfield is studying photography. Events conspire to grant Max control over time, and when the entire town is threatened, Max must investigate the ever increasing number of unexplained happenings around her whilst dealing with family, school life, and the return of her closest childhood friend Chloe. The story is not especially original, its themes are well worn in other mediums, but Dontnod’s efforts are to be commended in creating a largely successful mix of down to earth drama and supernatural mystery.
At the heart of its success is Maxine Caulfield, the game’s 18 year old budding student photographer. Despite looking perhaps too young for her apparent age, Max carries the experience with her bittersweet reflections and largely mature gaze upon the strangeness around her. There are no over the top theatrics or grating quirkiness, just a refreshingly down to earth personality that I could genuinely relate to. She captures a sense of shy awkwardness, doubt, and quiet introspection that very much characterised my own life at 18 and to some extent still does. It is especially in her reflective capacity that the strength of her character shines through; those moments when we are alone with our thoughts, with our anxieties and hopes, it is something the game captures quite beautifully, where the autumnal mood only adds to the gently sombre atmosphere. That isn’t to say that she lacks humour, but her comedic moments are kept to somewhat goofy comments and cute asides, which while not outright funny, can be charming and fits her character.
Max’s personality is such that her friend Chloe makes for an engaging contrast. She’s ostensibly a rebel, and is much more outgoing and forceful in her personality, often using that to coerce the much more sensible Max into the game’s most catalytic events. Their relationship feels believable and the sense of a past between them is present and is explored well over the five episodes, with one particular scene being one of the most beautiful in a game this year, or any other, where their love for each other is seen in the most saddening of circumstances. That this scene is not mawkish or overly sentimental is a great credit to the writers.
It’s such a shame then that many of Max’s peers and the other residents of Arcadia Bay, especially her school principal, lack the kind of depth and nuance afforded to the main characters. It’s understandable perhaps, given their relative lack of importance, but it would have been nice to see a few more of them rise above the stereotypes they sometimes come across as. Another potential issue is the question as to whether the depiction of school life is faithful to its reality. It seems a possibility that some might take issue with this, as even I who am unfamiliar with US high school mores wondered many times if this has any real verisimilitude, but even if this is some fantasy world, I found it to be a compelling one.
The writing is also another possible bone of contention. It’s competent, but one could argue that it lacks a degree of elegance and isn’t as sharp as some of its adventure game peers. This was the view I had at the time of playing but I must confess to wondering if this was deliberate, to reflect the reality that most 18 year olds are not especially witty or great with words. Some are admittedly, but once looked at as a reflection of the kinds of things people might actually say, I am not entirely sure if what I was witnessing was a flaw or not. In any case it did not diminish my enjoyment so much as to make it a major problem.
That is not to say that there aren’t more overt issues with the game. The music, which can often lift a scene and give it a special touch of ambience, or emphasise a mood, can sometimes jar with the on screen action. A few times my emotions were in such conflict with the feel of the song that the juxtaposition would take me out of the scene entirely. There are also issues with the time rewind mechanic, where solutions often appeared to develop as a matter of trial and error, where repeating things over and over got rather frustrating.
That said, Life is Strange is a soft-hearted game. It has a refreshing lack of cynicism, is sympathetic to its characters, yet isn’t naïve or unaware as to the cruelty of human nature. Although flawed, it does an admirable job at showing not only how we must live with the consequences of our actions, but of how so much is out of our hands, buffeted as we are by randomness and caprice, left to bear our sorrows and regrets often with no hope of ever putting them right.
