This review contains spoilers
Spoilers only discussed at the very bottom
I had high expectations going into Oxenfree. I don’t know how many people recall this, but back in 2016, this indie darling was making the rounds on major and minor reviewing sites, being widely regarded as one of the best titles to come out that year (which is saying something considering the quality of its contemporary releases!) As such, I added it to my Steam wishlist, knowing one day I would eventually play it.
Well, five years later, here I am; anything I had heard about the storyline or gameplay long since forgotten. Unfortunately, that tabula rasa did little to quell my disappointment. See, Oxenfree is an urban fantasy: a real-world tale that just so happens to incorporate mystical elements. Characters encounter ridiculous phenomena, but said phenomena rarely leaves a lasting impression on the world at large. The premise is very much akin to Twin Peaks or Stranger Things- shows that threw audiences onto a similar line between the bizarre and natural.
I fully concede upfront that this balancing act is inherently not for me. I much prefer mystery stories to be either flat-out phantasmagorical bonanzas or hardboiled tales set in a seedy underbelly. And while good narratives can of course always overcome any biases, I believe there to be too many flaws in this polymorphed concept to make it worthwhile, the most prominent being the establishment of rules. When you decide to include something unnatural like magic(k), you have to set forth guidelines preventing it from becoming a lazy plot device (i.e., granting leeway for story beats to sporadically happen without a satisfactory build-up, explanation, or resolution), and unfortunately, rarely do you see creators of such genre hybrids take the time to do just that- they're ultimately more interested in weaving together a tale, in turn creating problems down the line which, surprise surprise, are resolved via sporadic @sspulls or frustrating advancements more confusing than enjoyable.
To be fair on Oxenfree, it technically is more along the lines of science fantasy or science fiction since it deals with grounded concepts like time travel, ghosts, and techno-spiritual interfacing, but in a way that’s even worse since sci-fi, by way of its “more realistic” nature, calls for something resembling an explanation. I say all this to establish that I went into Oxenfree thinking it’d be an adventure thriller, and instead was unpleasantly surprised with something more akin to a supernatural escapade. That said, I would’ve been capable of bypassing my disgruntlements had the story and mythos been superbly crafted, but that unfortunately wasn’t to be. See, Oxenfree wants to have two cakes and eat them too. One dessert is about the psychological and familial struggles of older adolescent youths as they experience that “one last summer” with friends where all their frustrations and emotional turmoil come out; the other, to put it bluntly, about a haunted island. If the latter was simply a backdrop or metaphor for the events of the former, then you could successfully do both. But as the two have nothing to do with each other (outside of an artificially imposed connection+), what you’ve got instead are two threads that inherently detract from the other. When two characters are having an introspective conversation about their struggles over the past year, that’s interesting – when you have these character trying to uncover the tortured history behind the isle, that’s interesting – when you forcibly transition from one of these sections to the next or vice-versa, not only is that not interesting, it kills the magic circle of immersion that was being built-up in one or the other.
That’s really what my problems simmer down to. Oxenfree’s writers really should’ve focused on a single facet because the two do not complement each other in the slightest. And it’s a shame, because I am a sucker for such tales of summer teenage angst: they accurately reflect a time every first world adolescent experiences wherein you painfully hope things won’t change, yet at the same partly welcome those changes because it means getting away from your regrets of the past. It’s this phase of mental anguish in which you’re concurrently nostalgic, scared, and angry about everything.
The writers definitely had a grasp on these emotes, and the game begins well-enough when a weekend trip to an abandoned island turns into an opportunity for beer, truth-or-slap, and two step-siblings interacting for the first time. And yet, all of that falters the second the supernatural element is thrown into the mix- a major beat happens and now we are kicked into the world of the metaphysical where these same characters are now experiencing frightening and surreal things, yet for some reason still want to talk about dating and family drama. It just feels so off. And again, I want to emphasize that it’s a dang shame because the writers are talented. Conversations for each sector of the story rarely feels hackneyed or like an older generation trying hard to replicate a younger generation’s lingo. Much has been particularly made about the dialogue options, and I can definitively add my voice to that praise -- these wordages are well-scribed and generally give you the full range of discourse you would expect any teen in that respective situation to possibly respond with. While they fall into the “nice, rude, neutral” dialogue tree, they don’t come off as tonally forced.
That being said, there were major issues here that I have to bring up. The first is the fact that your window of opportunity to respond is put on an unseen time limit. This isn’t inherently bad, but it often means you won’t be able to hear the full-scope of a convo going on near you because your protagonist (Alex) will interrupt them. It’s strange because this won’t always happen- sometimes the dialogue selection will hold out until the background discourse is finished before being issued. I don’t know if this was a programming inconsistency or if the former was meant to be a “realistic” take on actual conversations by forcing the player to interject in the midst of another party’s diatribe, but regardless it came off as more rude than genuine, and hurt the work of the writers who put effort into crafting these apparently-interruptible dialogues.
The second qualm is that sometimes the intent behind a statement was hard to tell- what should’ve been straightforward may have actually been sarcastic. On the one hand, this is appreciative in the sense that it showcases how every response is plausible and naturalistic without going the Mass Effect-route of being out-of-character for the sake of providing “options” for the gamer, but on the other it made it a little confusing when I was trying to give my personal answer to an NPC’s statements. And considering the game has multiple variables in its singular ending that are impacted by your responses, this could potentially affect someone’s playthrough.
Finally, there seems to have been a lack of communication between the writers and the ADR directors. One of the things I appreciated about Oxenfree’s script is that it often gives Alex and co. realistic reactions to the craziness going on, on Edward’s Island, but the problem is the delivery of said reaction by the voice artists usually lacks frenziness. More often than not, they say the lines sarcastically or softly, when the intent (based on the circumstances and choice of grammar) indicate something more passionate or hotheaded. So, that ended up being a dock on multiple departments.
But yeah, overall the story feels like two halves that lack cohesiveness due to being at odds with each other. I’ll talk about the loose connections at the bottom and why I feel it to be lame. The characters are likable and rarely come off as annoying, however, they aren’t given a chance to shine due to this non-unity.
Graphically, I wasn’t a fan either. Oxenfree is a 2.5D game, yet Night School Studio made the odd decision to compose their cast from a separate art style than their backgrounds. It’s an example of superimposition faltering on top of artistic inconsistencies, and it really is inexcusable considering titles like Donkey Kong Country from the 90s did similar 3D transposing onto 2D backsets, albeit with the smart decision to have them carved from THE SAME STYLE. If this was an attempt by the developers to unsubtly explain how these individuals don’t fit on the island, then they ultimately failed to realize the negative aesthetic consequences that would come about from such a fusion.
In terms of viewing the duo on their own merits, first up are the horizons; a smeary blend of grim watercolors. They don’t quite bring to mind summerfests with friends you know you’ll grow apart from, but they do conjure up an atmosphere that befits a haunted locale (so it definitely benefits one aspect of the story). There isn’t too much detailing, which was probably a smart decision since you don’t spend an extended period of time in any one place (meaning it would’ve been a waste of assets/resources to conceive something that 99% of the player base would be oblivious to), and what is there is more than adequate for those that do give an extra discerning eye. A lot of the buildings and places feel like remnants of an abandoned town, with important items taken and the rest left to distill aimlessly in their original abodes- papers, shabby furniture, unpainted wood, dirty floors, etc...The haziness also gives an intentional/unintentional dreamlike quality to the whole area that makes the transitions into mystic craziness smooth and non-haphazard.
The characters, though, are not good looking. They’re colored well-enough that each holds a distinct wardrobe, but are ultimately 3D models that appear as though they were sculpted from hard clay. Not only do they appear like they don’t belong here, they also move and turn with an uncanny smoothness typical of early-3D animation (there were times where I swear their feet weren’t even touching the ground while walking!).
Illumination, though used sporadically, is surprisingly well done. Unfortunately, it’s hampered by poor shadowmapping, which consists of a single dark circle around everyone’s feet. One thing that I was genuinely shocked to see so beautifully executed were reflections. Like lighting, there are only a few places where it’s implemented (lakes, mirrors), but it’s a perfect 1-1 image. Even when you pull out your radio to discharge signals, the lights reflect on a surface!
Moving onto the music, I genuinely wasn’t a big fan. Some of the tracks are fine, but the vast majority feel so out of place: it’s like the composer was trying to create a synthesizer carnival under a gloomy motif, and the end result is so borderline grating, it partly took away from the emotional pull of the dialogues. The worst part is (and this is a criticism of the game in general) you can’t adjust any of the sound settings to lower the music/up the SFX, meaning you’re stuck with the default settings- same applies to other facets like brightness and contrasting, basic functions that I thought were standardized at this point in time.
On that note, SFX is slightly below adequate. Because of the aforementioned poor sound editing, a lot of the SFX, like footsteps, can barely be heard, but what I did discern was good enough (keep in mind there are a lot of reused auditoral assets like doors being opened and paranormal reactions to your radio).
The voice acting, as I said before, is solid for the most part. The VAs are all talented, but lackluster ADR direction hurt the delivery of their more frantic lines.
Gameplay-wise, Oxenfree is essentially a walking sim (what is masked these days as a “graphic adventure”). To be clear, I am a fan of this genre, but it means you don’t have much in the way of gameplay, which actually hurts Oxenfree as there were opportunities to implement puzzles. Most of the progression, for example, consists of tuning a hand radio to a specific broadcast to trigger an event- why not make a minigame or minigames out of it, similar to the Security Access Tuner in Alien: Isolation or the Cryptographic Sequencer from the Arkham Series? Turning it into a pure radio was lost potential.
One thing that is kinda appreciable is that characters move realistically- when you’re going up a slope, they’ll walk slower, whilst going down will cause them to angle themselves so that they don’t trip over. And considering games like AC Origins haven’t done something as elementary as this, it is impressive. However, movement speed can get lethargic as a result, with stairs in particular bringing back painful memories of me playing Syberia.
Outside of the story, there are two forms of collectibles that serve as side content. The first are secret frequencies that can only be found by literally holding out your radio constantly and walking around till the signal gets red. The second are hidden letters from the island’s late sole resident that detail her and her friend’s own investigations into the supernatural going on here. The latter were interesting to read, but I chose not to bother finding them because the only way to discover them is through looking on the screen for small moments of flash ala the original Pokemon games, which is not fun. Also, their content should’ve been incorporated into the story since they provide valuable information for the protagonists.
So yeah, overall I was not a fan of Oxenfree. Great voice acting and conversations are hurt by a story that bounces between two extremes which don’t naturally fit together, a distracting music score, and mismatched ADR direction. There is a New Game Plus, but I don’t see myself replaying this in the future.
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+So the way the two narratives “technically” connect is by way of a sporadic time travel thing that sends Alex back to her childhood where she gets to relive her last days with her brother before he drowned. The temporal concept was NOT fleshed out at all. In general, the antagonists, a band of ghost sailormen who died when a nuclear submarine went under, quickly go from being sympathetic to utterly annoying. Conversations with them reveal they have a deep philosophical understanding of the universe, as well as control over spacetime, yet they literally don’t do anything with all this power except throw dumb gimmicks at you or place Alex in a loop that can easily be broken. And before you retort that this is simply another example of the all-powerful deity choosing to just mess with humanity, the spirits repeatedly make clear that they want to be free from this eternal torment and can only break loose via stopping Alex. Yet at the same time, there are instances where they blatantly state they can do whatever they want, don’t need Alex’s compliance, and are just toying with her.
So, what the hell is going on exactly? Did none of the writers actually take the time to see how stupid they made their grand villain? If you want them to be this incomprehensible magical entity, then you have to give a logical reason for them not being able to go through with their evil plan. Acknowledging that there are no limitations on them and then choosing to HAVE THEM abide by said limitations with no explanation is ridiculous. Giving them incredible powers that they only use to play I Spy is beyond silly.
And I didn’t even understand why Alex was being sent back in time. If there was an explanation, I apologize for missing it, but even then, the fact that Oxenfree gives you the option to save your brother honestly irked me.While I hate the Flashpoint trope of a deceased character needing to stay dead for the sake of preserving the sanctity of today, the ethics of altering time and creating a butterfly effect are just as potent on the other end of the spectrum (i.e. saving someone). The fact that Oxenfree treats it as a willy-nilly thing that causes pure a black/white reaction in the present-day bothered me: there’s no exploration of the morality of doing so. It would’ve been better if they’d just avoided it in general.
If I can end on a positive note, it’s that I liked how Oxenfree put your Steam profile picture on the title menu and your Steam username during the endgame when you take over the reflection.
I had high expectations going into Oxenfree. I don’t know how many people recall this, but back in 2016, this indie darling was making the rounds on major and minor reviewing sites, being widely regarded as one of the best titles to come out that year (which is saying something considering the quality of its contemporary releases!) As such, I added it to my Steam wishlist, knowing one day I would eventually play it.
Well, five years later, here I am; anything I had heard about the storyline or gameplay long since forgotten. Unfortunately, that tabula rasa did little to quell my disappointment. See, Oxenfree is an urban fantasy: a real-world tale that just so happens to incorporate mystical elements. Characters encounter ridiculous phenomena, but said phenomena rarely leaves a lasting impression on the world at large. The premise is very much akin to Twin Peaks or Stranger Things- shows that threw audiences onto a similar line between the bizarre and natural.
I fully concede upfront that this balancing act is inherently not for me. I much prefer mystery stories to be either flat-out phantasmagorical bonanzas or hardboiled tales set in a seedy underbelly. And while good narratives can of course always overcome any biases, I believe there to be too many flaws in this polymorphed concept to make it worthwhile, the most prominent being the establishment of rules. When you decide to include something unnatural like magic(k), you have to set forth guidelines preventing it from becoming a lazy plot device (i.e., granting leeway for story beats to sporadically happen without a satisfactory build-up, explanation, or resolution), and unfortunately, rarely do you see creators of such genre hybrids take the time to do just that- they're ultimately more interested in weaving together a tale, in turn creating problems down the line which, surprise surprise, are resolved via sporadic @sspulls or frustrating advancements more confusing than enjoyable.
To be fair on Oxenfree, it technically is more along the lines of science fantasy or science fiction since it deals with grounded concepts like time travel, ghosts, and techno-spiritual interfacing, but in a way that’s even worse since sci-fi, by way of its “more realistic” nature, calls for something resembling an explanation. I say all this to establish that I went into Oxenfree thinking it’d be an adventure thriller, and instead was unpleasantly surprised with something more akin to a supernatural escapade. That said, I would’ve been capable of bypassing my disgruntlements had the story and mythos been superbly crafted, but that unfortunately wasn’t to be. See, Oxenfree wants to have two cakes and eat them too. One dessert is about the psychological and familial struggles of older adolescent youths as they experience that “one last summer” with friends where all their frustrations and emotional turmoil come out; the other, to put it bluntly, about a haunted island. If the latter was simply a backdrop or metaphor for the events of the former, then you could successfully do both. But as the two have nothing to do with each other (outside of an artificially imposed connection+), what you’ve got instead are two threads that inherently detract from the other. When two characters are having an introspective conversation about their struggles over the past year, that’s interesting – when you have these character trying to uncover the tortured history behind the isle, that’s interesting – when you forcibly transition from one of these sections to the next or vice-versa, not only is that not interesting, it kills the magic circle of immersion that was being built-up in one or the other.
That’s really what my problems simmer down to. Oxenfree’s writers really should’ve focused on a single facet because the two do not complement each other in the slightest. And it’s a shame, because I am a sucker for such tales of summer teenage angst: they accurately reflect a time every first world adolescent experiences wherein you painfully hope things won’t change, yet at the same partly welcome those changes because it means getting away from your regrets of the past. It’s this phase of mental anguish in which you’re concurrently nostalgic, scared, and angry about everything.
The writers definitely had a grasp on these emotes, and the game begins well-enough when a weekend trip to an abandoned island turns into an opportunity for beer, truth-or-slap, and two step-siblings interacting for the first time. And yet, all of that falters the second the supernatural element is thrown into the mix- a major beat happens and now we are kicked into the world of the metaphysical where these same characters are now experiencing frightening and surreal things, yet for some reason still want to talk about dating and family drama. It just feels so off. And again, I want to emphasize that it’s a dang shame because the writers are talented. Conversations for each sector of the story rarely feels hackneyed or like an older generation trying hard to replicate a younger generation’s lingo. Much has been particularly made about the dialogue options, and I can definitively add my voice to that praise -- these wordages are well-scribed and generally give you the full range of discourse you would expect any teen in that respective situation to possibly respond with. While they fall into the “nice, rude, neutral” dialogue tree, they don’t come off as tonally forced.
That being said, there were major issues here that I have to bring up. The first is the fact that your window of opportunity to respond is put on an unseen time limit. This isn’t inherently bad, but it often means you won’t be able to hear the full-scope of a convo going on near you because your protagonist (Alex) will interrupt them. It’s strange because this won’t always happen- sometimes the dialogue selection will hold out until the background discourse is finished before being issued. I don’t know if this was a programming inconsistency or if the former was meant to be a “realistic” take on actual conversations by forcing the player to interject in the midst of another party’s diatribe, but regardless it came off as more rude than genuine, and hurt the work of the writers who put effort into crafting these apparently-interruptible dialogues.
The second qualm is that sometimes the intent behind a statement was hard to tell- what should’ve been straightforward may have actually been sarcastic. On the one hand, this is appreciative in the sense that it showcases how every response is plausible and naturalistic without going the Mass Effect-route of being out-of-character for the sake of providing “options” for the gamer, but on the other it made it a little confusing when I was trying to give my personal answer to an NPC’s statements. And considering the game has multiple variables in its singular ending that are impacted by your responses, this could potentially affect someone’s playthrough.
Finally, there seems to have been a lack of communication between the writers and the ADR directors. One of the things I appreciated about Oxenfree’s script is that it often gives Alex and co. realistic reactions to the craziness going on, on Edward’s Island, but the problem is the delivery of said reaction by the voice artists usually lacks frenziness. More often than not, they say the lines sarcastically or softly, when the intent (based on the circumstances and choice of grammar) indicate something more passionate or hotheaded. So, that ended up being a dock on multiple departments.
But yeah, overall the story feels like two halves that lack cohesiveness due to being at odds with each other. I’ll talk about the loose connections at the bottom and why I feel it to be lame. The characters are likable and rarely come off as annoying, however, they aren’t given a chance to shine due to this non-unity.
Graphically, I wasn’t a fan either. Oxenfree is a 2.5D game, yet Night School Studio made the odd decision to compose their cast from a separate art style than their backgrounds. It’s an example of superimposition faltering on top of artistic inconsistencies, and it really is inexcusable considering titles like Donkey Kong Country from the 90s did similar 3D transposing onto 2D backsets, albeit with the smart decision to have them carved from THE SAME STYLE. If this was an attempt by the developers to unsubtly explain how these individuals don’t fit on the island, then they ultimately failed to realize the negative aesthetic consequences that would come about from such a fusion.
In terms of viewing the duo on their own merits, first up are the horizons; a smeary blend of grim watercolors. They don’t quite bring to mind summerfests with friends you know you’ll grow apart from, but they do conjure up an atmosphere that befits a haunted locale (so it definitely benefits one aspect of the story). There isn’t too much detailing, which was probably a smart decision since you don’t spend an extended period of time in any one place (meaning it would’ve been a waste of assets/resources to conceive something that 99% of the player base would be oblivious to), and what is there is more than adequate for those that do give an extra discerning eye. A lot of the buildings and places feel like remnants of an abandoned town, with important items taken and the rest left to distill aimlessly in their original abodes- papers, shabby furniture, unpainted wood, dirty floors, etc...The haziness also gives an intentional/unintentional dreamlike quality to the whole area that makes the transitions into mystic craziness smooth and non-haphazard.
The characters, though, are not good looking. They’re colored well-enough that each holds a distinct wardrobe, but are ultimately 3D models that appear as though they were sculpted from hard clay. Not only do they appear like they don’t belong here, they also move and turn with an uncanny smoothness typical of early-3D animation (there were times where I swear their feet weren’t even touching the ground while walking!).
Illumination, though used sporadically, is surprisingly well done. Unfortunately, it’s hampered by poor shadowmapping, which consists of a single dark circle around everyone’s feet. One thing that I was genuinely shocked to see so beautifully executed were reflections. Like lighting, there are only a few places where it’s implemented (lakes, mirrors), but it’s a perfect 1-1 image. Even when you pull out your radio to discharge signals, the lights reflect on a surface!
Moving onto the music, I genuinely wasn’t a big fan. Some of the tracks are fine, but the vast majority feel so out of place: it’s like the composer was trying to create a synthesizer carnival under a gloomy motif, and the end result is so borderline grating, it partly took away from the emotional pull of the dialogues. The worst part is (and this is a criticism of the game in general) you can’t adjust any of the sound settings to lower the music/up the SFX, meaning you’re stuck with the default settings- same applies to other facets like brightness and contrasting, basic functions that I thought were standardized at this point in time.
On that note, SFX is slightly below adequate. Because of the aforementioned poor sound editing, a lot of the SFX, like footsteps, can barely be heard, but what I did discern was good enough (keep in mind there are a lot of reused auditoral assets like doors being opened and paranormal reactions to your radio).
The voice acting, as I said before, is solid for the most part. The VAs are all talented, but lackluster ADR direction hurt the delivery of their more frantic lines.
Gameplay-wise, Oxenfree is essentially a walking sim (what is masked these days as a “graphic adventure”). To be clear, I am a fan of this genre, but it means you don’t have much in the way of gameplay, which actually hurts Oxenfree as there were opportunities to implement puzzles. Most of the progression, for example, consists of tuning a hand radio to a specific broadcast to trigger an event- why not make a minigame or minigames out of it, similar to the Security Access Tuner in Alien: Isolation or the Cryptographic Sequencer from the Arkham Series? Turning it into a pure radio was lost potential.
One thing that is kinda appreciable is that characters move realistically- when you’re going up a slope, they’ll walk slower, whilst going down will cause them to angle themselves so that they don’t trip over. And considering games like AC Origins haven’t done something as elementary as this, it is impressive. However, movement speed can get lethargic as a result, with stairs in particular bringing back painful memories of me playing Syberia.
Outside of the story, there are two forms of collectibles that serve as side content. The first are secret frequencies that can only be found by literally holding out your radio constantly and walking around till the signal gets red. The second are hidden letters from the island’s late sole resident that detail her and her friend’s own investigations into the supernatural going on here. The latter were interesting to read, but I chose not to bother finding them because the only way to discover them is through looking on the screen for small moments of flash ala the original Pokemon games, which is not fun. Also, their content should’ve been incorporated into the story since they provide valuable information for the protagonists.
So yeah, overall I was not a fan of Oxenfree. Great voice acting and conversations are hurt by a story that bounces between two extremes which don’t naturally fit together, a distracting music score, and mismatched ADR direction. There is a New Game Plus, but I don’t see myself replaying this in the future.
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+So the way the two narratives “technically” connect is by way of a sporadic time travel thing that sends Alex back to her childhood where she gets to relive her last days with her brother before he drowned. The temporal concept was NOT fleshed out at all. In general, the antagonists, a band of ghost sailormen who died when a nuclear submarine went under, quickly go from being sympathetic to utterly annoying. Conversations with them reveal they have a deep philosophical understanding of the universe, as well as control over spacetime, yet they literally don’t do anything with all this power except throw dumb gimmicks at you or place Alex in a loop that can easily be broken. And before you retort that this is simply another example of the all-powerful deity choosing to just mess with humanity, the spirits repeatedly make clear that they want to be free from this eternal torment and can only break loose via stopping Alex. Yet at the same time, there are instances where they blatantly state they can do whatever they want, don’t need Alex’s compliance, and are just toying with her.
So, what the hell is going on exactly? Did none of the writers actually take the time to see how stupid they made their grand villain? If you want them to be this incomprehensible magical entity, then you have to give a logical reason for them not being able to go through with their evil plan. Acknowledging that there are no limitations on them and then choosing to HAVE THEM abide by said limitations with no explanation is ridiculous. Giving them incredible powers that they only use to play I Spy is beyond silly.
And I didn’t even understand why Alex was being sent back in time. If there was an explanation, I apologize for missing it, but even then, the fact that Oxenfree gives you the option to save your brother honestly irked me.While I hate the Flashpoint trope of a deceased character needing to stay dead for the sake of preserving the sanctity of today, the ethics of altering time and creating a butterfly effect are just as potent on the other end of the spectrum (i.e. saving someone). The fact that Oxenfree treats it as a willy-nilly thing that causes pure a black/white reaction in the present-day bothered me: there’s no exploration of the morality of doing so. It would’ve been better if they’d just avoided it in general.
If I can end on a positive note, it’s that I liked how Oxenfree put your Steam profile picture on the title menu and your Steam username during the endgame when you take over the reflection.