The Indie Informer

Day of the Devs is an event I always look forward to with particular excitement. Starting over a decade ago as a collaboration between Double Fine and iam8bit, the show is one of the first indie-focused celebrations. My fondness for it also has a lot to do with the fact that it’s a San Francisco affair that doesn’t charge for entry. As an aspiring writer and freelancer based in that area, it has been an affordable highlight of my gaming calendar.

This year’s Game Awards Edition moved things south, traveling to LA for all those making the journey to the big ceremony. Arguably, it was the better of the two events — but I have to admit to a certain bias on that. Though it changed up its locale this for round — don’t worry, the festivities are headed back to the Bay in spring — Day of the Devs remained the same indie-friendly good time I’ve come to expect. And what better way to kick off the day than checking out the intriguing new title from Return of the Obra Dinn and Papers, Please creator Lucas Pope?

Mars After Midnight is not what I was expecting. Pope being a developer known for heavy narrative themes, the concept of becoming an alien bouncer cleaning up after a crowd of hungry space denizens is on the delightfully sillier side. The choice to develop for the Playdate — the whimsy-stuffed, crank-focused handheld — underscores the game’s lighthearted nature.

Even so, I get the sense there’s more going on beneath the console’s banana-colored surface and the game’s fantastic premise. Given little preamble, I wrap my hands around the tiny game device and watch a brief, monochromatic scene play out. Some distance from the human colony, down cluttered streets filled with dubious lifeforms is a community center that only springs to life after the clock strikes midnight.

Now it’s my turn to earn my paycheck. The game quickly establishes that I am a bouncer, of sorts, for the little center, and today’s meeting caters towards Cyclopes seeking Anger Management. Standing at a door with a small window slot, I have to decide who to allow in to the limited space. Taped to the back of the door is a slip of paper with rudimentary drawings meant to help me determine which creatures I should allow entry. This boils down to anyone with one eye that looks upset.

That’s easier said than done as the kaleidoscope of Martians knocking on the door defy understandable categories. Figures with clusters of eyes making up a central focal point, creatures with no mouths to speak of, would-be entrants so tall I have to crane to see if they even have a face are just some of the organisms that show up for the night’s offerings. The console’s signature crank comes into play here as I use it to flip open the window to make my choices. But it also has another use in the game loops second stage: setting out refreshments.

Having admitted a Martian into the community center, they will avail themselves of some food — in the demo’s case, this is pie. It becomes my job to clean up after the hungry guest in a kind of Tower of Hanoi minigame. Plates, pie, serving utensils, all have to be put back in exactly the right place to encourage class-goers to leave tips. And the crank-controlled sweeper puts the proverbial cherry on top of the preparations. Sadly, I only have two tentacles to hold, arrange, and clean everything. Plus, the never-ending stream of creatures constantly demand my attention at the door. It makes for a surprisingly engaging loop.

When the class of the night is full, I find out just how well I’ve managed to accomplish my task. The creatures filtering out the door leave money which I’ll use to fund the next night’s event. I also watch the screen as it reveal how many of the colony’s citizens I still have to help — the number is in the hundreds. If I haven’t let in the right group, the amount of unhelped lifeforms will stay high. Likewise, if I’ve done a shoddy job making them feel welcome, I won’t have the funds to advertise my services, buy refreshments, or host varying function.

I’m immediately driven to start planning the very best event I can — a burger night for ninjas. I can’t wait to see how I’ll be able to recognize the, by definition, hard to pinpoint demographic. Sadly, the demo ends just after I make arrangements for the following night. Mars After Midnight might have a silly veneer, but I can’t help but feel something is waiting for me to discover. Its gameplay loop is wonderfully engaging and the mystery of its narrative might just push me over the edge in picking up a Playdate.