The Indie Informer

I am stunned. Mixtape is stunning.

It’s tempting to leave the mic drop there and let you discover the game for yourself — because you deserve to discover everything about this game for yourself. Selfishly, I can’t hold back the urge to spill my thoughts. What starts as an eye-catching, fourth-wall-breaking, coming-of-age game transforms into a mirror. Through its reflective surface, I witness and relive the euphoric highs and desolate lows of my own adolescence. Trapped in a place you don’t fit, that doesn’t fit you. Dreaming big dreams of the future to come while confronting the unexpected sorrow of leaving everything behind.

Mixtape perfectly swings through all of it — larger-than-life memories and mundane moments alike — with authenticity, personality, and the most extraordinary soundtrack.

Now. I’m going to get through this part first so I can put it behind me. Being a big fan of developer Beethoven and Dinosaur’s debut game, The Artful Escape, I already had my expectations set. However, this may be the first of this creator’s games that many jump into. So, you need to know: Like its predecessor, Mixtape is not gameplay-heavy. Mostly, the action falls into the “walking sim” category, with some fantastic punctuations of interactivity that, while minimal, let me express my own feelings magnified.

In one section, I absolutely revel in chaos and destruction, underscoring my unleashed energy by tapping the controller’s shoulder buttons occasionally to trigger environmental effects. In another moment that won’t soon leave my mind, I jump and swirl through a sunny field using only the joystick and a button or two. The mechanic actionality is undeniably minimal, but the devs have bent all their skills towards making it feel like I’m pouring unrestrained joy or searing rage from my fingers.

The opening hour of Mixtape puts Oscar Wilde in my head. “I am not young enough,” as he’s purported to say, “to know everything.” Meeting the young cast’s leading characters makes me wish I were as sure of everything as I had been as a teenager. Stacey Rockford, our main heroine, knows what she wants and is ready to grab it.

Looking into the player’s eyes, and with her full chest, Rockford explains this is her last day in her hometown — mostly referred to in the game as “The Big Suck” and tomorrow she’ll be on a plane to New York to impress her idol with a mixtape. After listening to said magical composition, Rockford sees herself flung into the role of Music Supervisor, making soundtracks for the world’s biggest cultural experiences.

It’s not only a relatable introduction — I certainly harbored radical plans for my future as a teen — but it also presents the game’s full plot. The next twenty-four hours will be spent soaking in what she is leaving behind and then letting it all fall away, with the help of a perfectly curated soundtrack.

Along for the ride, her friends Slater and Cassandra plan a perfect day culminating in a legendary party being held by an almost mythical figure who is visiting briefly from college. The setup had the potential to become a stereotypical exhibition of teenage antics with cliche lessons we learned along the way. It is not.

The supporting characters demand their own time in the spotlight, showcasing their equally nuanced, individual struggles. One showcases the quiet sadness of being resigned to never finding a way to leave their small hometown. The other navigates the boiling rage of being held back that threatens to explode. Sometimes their journeys place them on the same path, sometimes they are square in each other’s ways.

The game’s unhappy conflict — besides the ever-present trial of surviving in a place you don’t fit into — comes from how we hurt those closest to us. Sometimes, it’s with thoughtlessness, sometimes with selfishness, and sometimes in simply seeking what we need.

There is something astonishing about a game that holds space for both of these sentiments:

“Noodles. This Press Conference is over,” and “I saw Death, and I walked up to it.”

It’s astonishing it can suffuse them with the kind of meaning that roots both quotes in my mind, the silly and the serious, to the point I’m still thinking about them after the credits have rolled. Serious, sarcastic, hurtful, and uplifting, this game hits every note with style.

By the end of Mixtape, which takes only about four hours, I had felt the pure joy of living, the seething heat of betrayal, the confusion of unexpected rejection, and the bittersweet feeling of being on top for one single moment. Tears escaped my eyes walking away from it, even as I smiled.