Whilst it’s obvious to anyone who has played Dontnod’s excellent episodic adventure game that the life of protagonist Max Caulfield is certainly strange, what’s even stranger is that this series has been a triumph. Life is Strange rapped up recently with the final episode of the first series, Polarized.

SPOILER WARNING: The following review contains spoilers for Episode 4: Dark Room. If you haven’t yet had the pleasure of playing the fourth episode, do not read on.

After the jaw-dropping conclusion of the previous episode, Max wakes up in the dark room at the mercy of the villainous Mr Jefferson. Predictably, she has to use her time-rewinding powers to manipulate her way out of the situation.

However, the one question Life is Strange has coyly hinted at in past episodes but never answered is: what are the consequences of Max constantly reshuffling time at her every whim? Max is forced to face what she has wrought, and the supernatural storm that has been brewing on the periphery through-out the series is closing in.

As anyone who has followed my reviews of the previous episodes will know, I have been strangely enamoured with Life is Strange. Sure, it has more clichés than a tourist’s guide to British idioms, and at times the cast are absolutely insufferable, but there’s something relentlessly charming about the whole thing.

My biggest fear was that it would completely disappear up its own arse during the conclusion, as so many time-travel stories do. Whilst its arse is certainly visible during the annoyingly abstract Polarized, it provides a satisfactory end to the series which seeks to resolve the issues present through-out while maintaining its beautiful, lo-fi tone.

The episode consists mostly of Max exhausting every option to resolve her situation, as well as the issues facing her erstwhile buddy Chloe and the town of Arcadia Bay, before realising that the only way everything will be fixed is if she makes a very difficult choice.

The only real issue with Polarized, which was also a massive flaw in the seemingly amazing but actually cheap ending to the third episode, Chaos Theory, is that the audience gets wise to the game’s tricks quickly. It got to the point where I knew instantly if a situation I was in was meaningful, or if my actions would be re-written in the next scene.

What’s the point in agonising over a dialogue choice, or even putting any thought into it at all if it is of no consequence? Maybe that’s the message the game is attempting to convey. The ability to reverse time and edit mistakes makes the user careless and irresponsible, and detaches them from real-life by stripping away the costs.

With the abstract nature of the subject matter in Polarized come some pretty abstract gameplay ideas. There’s even a stealth section during which Max has to sneak past several of the game’s characters whilst avoiding a giant search light. The stealth section was by far the weakest part of the episode; even I do appreciate the attempt to offer something a bit different.

It certainly beat the bottle collecting bit from Out of Time, which is also referenced in this episode with another, slightly easier bottle collection escapade. Max even bemoans the fact she has to hunt for bottles again as the player is forced to do it.

It may be very funny to be all self-referential and deprecating, but it would have been enough to just reference it and have the player chuckle and roll their eyes up. Forcing the player to do it again is completely misguided.

Like most of Life is Strange, the gameplay elements are tedious and are simply there to pad out the story. Fortunately, the story is compelling enough that it’s worth collecting all the bottles in the world just to see it through.

With the series’ conclusion, it’s suitable enough to talk about Life is Strange as a whole, and I’m still perplexed as to why I love it so much.

And I do love it. I love the awkward teen drama, even if I want to somehow bite my own ears off every time I hear a ‘hella’. I love the time-travel narrative, even if it constantly fools the player into thinking their actions are significant. I love the proto-romance between Max and Chloe, even if they’re both so infuriatingly typical of the sulky teenager who thinks their problems are the most difficult issues anyone has ever faced.

Most of all, the aspect of Life is Strange that makes it so god-damn endearing is the tone. I’ve never played a game that makes me sigh contentedly as much as this game did. The quaint college campus, and the sleepy setting of the seaside town of Arcadia Bay just feel so calming, especially when backed up with the beautiful indie soundtrack.

Part of me never wants to hear anyone say ‘amazeballs’ for as long as I live, and most of me never wants to see Warren’s strange meerkat face for even one more second, but if I got the chance to rewind time, I’d play Life is Strange all over again.

 

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