Lost Records: Bloom And Rage Review In Progress – Leave Nothing But Memories

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“I’ll remember you, even after I die.”

The quote in Lost Records: Rage and Bloom’s inaugural tape offers a succinct and heartfelt summary of the game’s theme. Lost Records immerses players in the tumultuous emotions and complexities of adolescence, capturing the desire to be unique yet understood, accepted, and loved. In its roughly 8-hour span, it portrays the coexistence of self-doubt and confidence as the invincibility of youth is tested to its limits. Can a single summer, or indeed life itself, feel both eternal and fragile? That’s the enchantment of our teenage years.

In a remarkable fashion, Lost Records vividly portrays a chilling, supernatural enigma that transcends over two decades, posing a grave danger to the four women entangled in it. It’s not just a game reminiscent of ’90s nostalgia or evoking feelings of youth; instead, it delves deeply into an intricate mystery promising turmoil and the resurfacing of past events that might be better left unremembered. This gripping, gradually unfolding storyline serves as a compelling canvas for exploring themes such as girlhood, friendship, sexuality, individuality, self-expression, and the journey from adolescence to maturity. Adding to its allure are complex characters, stunning visuals reminiscent of cinema, meticulously designed character models, and an immersive sense of ambiance. All these elements make Lost Records one of Don’t Nod’s finest creations yet.

In two different time frames, one being summer ’95 and another during approximately the second year of the COVID-19 pandemic, the story follows timid, red-haired film enthusiast Swann Holloway as she revisits a string of ominous experiences from her teenage years. This journey begins when one of her childhood friends, Autumn, contacts Swann with alarming news: It seems there is someone who knows their identities, their past actions, and has decided to send them a cryptic parcel. After almost three decades without any contact, the reason for this intentional yet unexplained silence, Autumn eventually asks Swann and the two other girls connected with their friend circle, Nora and Kat, to reunite in their hometown of Velvet Cove to tackle this issue together.

It didn’t take much time for this intriguing setup to pique my interest; I found myself immediately curious about these girls and their story. I wanted to uncover why they had lost touch, what unsettling events they might have experienced or even participated in. Despite the game’s leisurely pace, it held me captive, as the ordinary tasks seemed to be carefully interwoven with hints and solutions that only fueled more intriguing questions. I was also drawn into the chilling narrative–of the cabin I stumbled upon, seemingly marked by cultist symbols, and the growing frequency and intensity of the eerie, possibly paranormal occurrences.

For the majority of Tape One, you follow a young Swann as she spends her final summer in Michigan before moving to Canada with her family. Initially, Swann is a solitary soul who finds comfort in nature, films, her cat, and X-Files fanfiction rather than socializing with others. However, this changes when she encounters Autumn, Nora, and Kat, who become her best friends and bandmates. Although the prospect of moving casts a shadow over her, Swann embraces the chance to make new friends and shares her summer experiences with them, becoming the music video director for their band Bloom and Rage while Kat contributes as a songwriter. The quartet spends almost every moment of their remaining summer together, embarking on various escapades that Swann documents diligently on her faithful old camcorder.

In Lost Records, developed by Don’t Nod, the primary means of player interaction largely revolves around Swann’s camcorder, rather than traditional choice-driven gameplay where decisions shape the storyline and characters’ feelings towards the protagonist. While walking and interacting with items are still integral parts of the game, the camcorder offers a unique and creative way to engage, providing goals, structure, and a personal touch that might otherwise be absent.

Though I sometimes find narrative-focused games lacking in interactive elements beyond reading item descriptions, I was pleasantly surprised by the versatility and freedom offered by the device. The game world, while isolated and linear compared to previous Don’t Nod productions, is richly fleshed out, with items like graffiti or owls serving as fascinating subjects for capture.

The inclusion of my footage in cutscenes made me feel a stronger emotional bond with Swann and the game itself. Despite wishing for more exploration opportunities, I enjoyed the experience of searching for compelling subjects to record, knowing that my clips would be carefully edited due to my tendency to over-shoot footage and the built-in editor in the game.

Moreover, it was effortless to establish a strong bond with Lost Records beyond just the gameplay. Although Swann and her companions are slightly older than me, they mirrored aspects of myself and my childhood experiences. Each character, along with the meticulously crafted environments, stirred memories of my Spacemaker pencil boxes and my profound affection for The Dark Crystal. In exploring Swann’s room, I was reminded of my own childhood crushes, particularly in the exuberant, guitar-playing Nora. Additionally, I found a reflection of my mother in the neatly written note left on Swann’s bed by her mom, which read that the diet snacks contained “only 50 calories!

Although Swann’s awkwardness and self-doubt could at times be frustrating, I must concede that there were striking similarities between her and me. Her character, in all its vulnerability, mirrors the experiences of many teenagers, even if we may later view it as annoying, overly critical, or dramatic. One aspect that resonated deeply with me was her passion for documenting moments, much like my role as the videographer among my friends. This shared trait might stem from a similar upbringing, feeling self-conscious and overweight. The comfort I found in observing Swann navigate life in such a familiar manner came from her attempts to preserve the things that reminded her of the world’s kindness and charm—the memories that would serve as proof that she was once loved, cherished, and will be again.

As my bond with Swann strengthened, while she formed connections with new acquaintances who might become romantic interests, the conversations I engaged in became more assured, showcasing how relationships can boost self-assurance in this game. However, I also experienced the embarrassment that accompanied transgressing a friend’s limits and reflected on my past mistakes as a young woman. Remarkably, it was the game’s narrative that made its credibility stem from observing specific interactions and dynamics instead of using repetitive reminders like “hey, remember this event?” moments, which can often be awkward or uncomfortable. Just like Tamagotchis, Pogs, and Blockbuster, we all cherish those memories. But it’s more impressive for a game to evoke the memory of the first time another girl expressed her feelings for you or when you played Truth or Dare with close friends and someone felt exposed and hurt. As Swann delved into her past, I was compelled to recollect some of my own memories, creating an emotional yet fulfilling experience.

One significant reason why Lost Records resonated so deeply with me is its richness, creativity, and film-like quality. The game captures adolescence in a hazy, nostalgic light, which rings true given the narrative unfolds through reminiscent dialogue between old friends. The visuals, colors, and ethereal, bittersweet ambiance of the game were consistently impressive, as was the soundtrack, beautifully crafted by Ruth Radlet of Chromatics. Yet, there’s a sense of realism that permeates the game, making it all the more immersive. I was moved by the portrayal of Nora, who is often depicted as flirty, beautiful, fun, and incredibly cool, but also struggles with red, angry acne scars on her cheeks – a struggle that feels strikingly authentic, as if it mirrors the experiences of many of us. This authenticity lends an air of honesty to Lost Records that I found compelling.

The game “Lost Records” offers a unique and compelling portrayal of adolescence that sets it apart from many other games and media in general. It’s well-known that we are frequently exposed to “coming-of-age” narratives, and I, as a fan of this trope, believe there is a valid reason for this. The period between childhood and adulthood is characterized by hormones, emotions, self-discovery, passion, rebellion, and experiences that significantly alter the person you will become, leaving behind traces of your old self.

Interestingly, both the narrative presented in “Lost Records” and the one unfolding in the present day, where women in their 40s challenge the stereotype that they are old, uninteresting, and dull, do so in a captivating, innovative, and significant way. As things stand now, “Lost Records: Bloom and Rage” has the potential to be one of Don’t Nod’s most successful titles. However, its success largely hinges on the release of its second half, which is planned for April. It will take resolution, action, and patience rewarded to pull off a successful conclusion, but I am confident that the team will achieve this.

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2025-02-26 04:10