Review: Lost Records: Bloom & Rage (Tape One) Takes Us Back to the Summer of Riot Grrl in a Clever Teen Thriller | Games

tYears ago, Parisian studios did not effectively create a new subgenre of narrative adventures, with teenage mystery life is strange. Part thriller, some relationship drama, it created an emotional Paean with unwavering friendship, using music, art and friendly characters. After a series of sequels, Nod's Montreal Studios created a new story about teenage relationships, split into two episodes or tapes.

In 1995, the introverted teen Swan faces his last quiet summer in a rural Velvet, Michigan town before his family moved to Vancouver. However, in the parking lot of a local video store, she meets fellow 16-year-old Nora, Autumn, and Kat, and the four girls bond about boredom and frustration with small town life. Soon they are inseparable, hiking in the nearby forest, setting camp fire, and confessing their secrets. Here they form the Bloom & Rage of the riot grrrl band, leading their dreams, desires and fear into fantasies of fame and revenge against silly boys and oppressive parents. However, when their swirling emotions seem to awaken a supernatural being in the forest, something terrible happens and the girls swear each other to the secrets of their lives.

Twenty-seven years later, the group meets again in a rough bar on the outskirts of the town, which holds a special connection to their stories. Fall received an ominous package addressed to their band. Anything in the box could be the horrifying result of that tumultuous summer.

In the typical style of Not Nod, the game captivates interactive scenes and cinematic sequences, controlling the conversation that subtly shapes your relationships and story direction. The story interacts between two timelines that remind you of 2022 and two pivotal summers together in 1995. Sometimes the decision you make at the bar as 43-year-old Swann is renovated into her youthful experience, creating a fascinating ambiguity of causality and memory.

Certainly, this game is about how we create and edit memories, just as we do what actually happens to girls. Swann is an avid filmmaker, and 1990s video cameras are with you throughout the game. You can always press the appropriate trigger and see the world through the camcorder lens. In the main story, we use it to shoot a band's music video, but you can record it at any time. This feature is incentivized by a bunch of theme checklists. Record 10 different birds, or 5 ruined playground rides, or graffiti snatches. But you can also capture your own scenes from and around town, record friends casually, and build sequences of themes that can be stored and edited. The interface recalls games like No Man's Sky and Marvel's Spider-Man, where shooting objects are practical gameplay components, but here the camcorder is also a factor of recollection and nostalgia. At the same time, we ask an interesting question about how the role of a player, both as a gamer and a cinematographer, relates to the protagonist, which we embodies in the game.

It's not the only clever trick the game plays in formats and conventions. For example, the dialogue system is specially designed to capture the dynamic energy and chaos of excitatory groups. Options and responses vary depending on who you are watching while you are speaking, characters screaming at each other and comments are lost in the noise. Sometimes you can time out the options in the dialog and choose not to say anything. In some great moments, this mechanic captures the desperate improvisational nature of a teen relationship, moments of wobbling or fleeting eye contact with one comment all day long.

You may find the dialogue to be robust and overly listened, and the sense of authenticity is increased. Those who have played Life Is Strange also see many similarities with the game, especially between Swann and Max Caulfield.

But like its predecessor, Lost Records stunningly captures the way in which seemingly insignificant moments are billed in meaning in younger adults. There's a picnic by the lake, then there's a game of truth or a crackle with absolute strength. The 90s setting is well supported with support with spot-on-contemporary references, from grunge band mixtapes to video players and trawldolls.

In the background, there is subtly a hint of the mystery at the heart of the game, and there is much to expect from the second part. Mainly, it's the character and its vulnerable relationship that sticks to you. Three days after finishing the game, I'm still thinking about them. Unless you simply refuse to indulge in emotional young adult drama, you will be there too.