There are a lot of little/simple game design gestures in this project that are just so well executed and seamless that make it pretty easy to admire this project.

Moments where the playable character turns to perform a task, executes a small action, and then turns back around to continue their tasks to find the scene changed behind them in order to enable new moments of interaction/dialog are just such an inventive and subtle way of working around cumbersome and unnecessary animation while nicely fitting into the overall distinct aesthetic crafted by Turnfollow.

The dialog also feels so effortlessly written; so natural and carefree, so unburdened by the need to "REALLY EXPRESS SOMETHING" and as a result flows in profound, moving, and delicate ways. There's moments that just just "right" and they happen all the time. The way the characters interact with each other is so consistently written that every time you change playable characters it doesn't feel jarring or uncomfortable.

The "arc" is also so nicely crafted—so clearly set up and then so satisfyingly delivered. You go from "this is cute" to "I'm feeling something" to "I've been there" to "I don't want this to end" in such a wonderful way. Nothing feels alarming or unrealistic, but also not so pedantically predictable or trite. It's "coming of age" meets "knowing your place" in a way that confronts and sensitively challenges the tired tropes of each of those literary and game design genres.

WOBJ is genuine without being twee, sincere without being saccharine, wistful without being childish, mature without being pretentious.

I really enjoyed this game and it stands out as one of the few "coming of age" stories that I actually wanted to read/experience in 2020. It's not trite, it's not overcomplicated, it's not heavy-handed. Instead, it's raw, emotional, sincere, and vulnerable in a way that feels very self-aware, but not overly self-conscious.

The "erasure" mechanic felt novel at first, and just when I started getting a little bored of it, it changes gears slightly and offers up new ways to explore the screen-space and navigate the story. When it returns to this "base" it doesn't feel cheap or repetitive, but instead kind of gripping and at times anxiety-producing (on purpose). You go from erasing things casually, to then frustratingly, to then urgently; although the action is the same, the affect is always slightly different.

As a first generation Irish-American, I deeply appreciated the good "translations" of Irish witticisms, turn-of-phrases, and location pronunciations. It's a subtle gesture to bring you into the world a bit more, and I think more games should offer this kind of deeper insight into the worlds the characters exist in—deeper context makes for better "immersion."

If found... is a sombre story at times, but all in all it's good craic.

This was one of the few games that I've played that really made me need to write things down with pen and paper: high praise in my book. The experience of trying to piece together the fractured files of assassinated public figures, clandestine operatives, propped-up businessmen, and dubious actors in a global plot to "spread democracy" is so enticing, rich, and at times overwhelming.

But the moment where AHwMF gets so good and really chilling is how it simulates (and triggers) paranoia. There are many different versions of this, but they all come from chilling and calculated sound cues and give you the unnerving feeling of being watched. As you dig deeper into the archives and piece together more of the relationships between the subjects, these start to become more unsettling and in some ways make you question the reality you are constructing on your pinboard. It's a subtle and truly effective design method that triggers such an immediate and terrifying sensation.

These gestures, along with the depth of research put into this project, make this game one of my top 5 of 2020 hands down.