

Along with our group-selected 2015 Game of the Year Awards, each member of the PC Gamer staff has independently chosen one game to commend as one of the year's best.
Let's be real for a second. It is December 2015 and there are no more opinions left to have about Life is Strange. The hot take mine has been stripped clean, the last few precious fragments of opinion-ore shipped off for processing in Tumblr's distant refineries. This was the year's most innovative, diverse, engaging and contentious adventure game, combining the potential fanatical fan investment of a BioWare RPG with the potential fanatical fan investment of a cult TV show from ten years ago.
In the name of keeping things simple, then, I have chosen Life is Strange as my personal pick for 2015 because I really liked it. I enjoyed following Max Caulfield's story through to its ending, and even appreciated that ending.
Life is Strange doesn't get everything right. It has a brilliant premise that it struggles to steer past a certain point. It introduces a great puzzle-solving mechanic by giving you the ability to rewind time, but underutilises it later on. Its script is deft and thoughtful and clunky by turns, and it showcases a few of the year's best performances and also that one fisherman in chapter two (betrayed by his script, to be fair).
If you focus on these faults, there's a risk that you'll miss the wood for the dark Northwestern pines. As Life is Strange winds its ambitious and inconsistent course, it finds itself in completely new territory. It's unlike any other game I've played this year except maybe the PS4-bound Everybody's Gone To The Rapture, and it is decidedly more than the sum of its parts.
It's a game about the self-important funk of your mid-late teens, when everything is at once Very Important and also Probably Bullshit.
The most important thing to me is the game's tone. Life is Strange is naive and romantic and while there is an element of threat, it's not the type of threat that videogames usually present: violence is a factor, yes, but so is social exclusion, anxiety, loss and unrequited love. It's a game about the self-important funk of your mid-late teens, when everything is at once Very Important and also Probably Bullshit. I think that's why I found it so convincing. It's not realistic, but it's unrealistic in the way that young people are unrealistic.
The finale of chapter two is the game's highlight, for me, a moment when Life is Strange manages to work as teen drama and as detective game and as a superhero fantasy all at once. Momentarily stripped of your ability to rewind time, you have to use what you've learned about somebody to help them in a time of real need, with real consequences for failure. It is heartbreaking to get it wrong, and provides a feeling of genuine accomplishment when you get it right.
Nothing else in the game quite lives up to that moment, but Arcadia Bay remains a place you want to be and the relationship between Chloe and Max is a powerful reason to keep going. In its final moments—no spoilers, really—Life is Strange raises questions that are simple, subtle, and affecting. Can you really go home again? What is the appropriate response to loss? How much ground should you give to the notion that your fate is ultimately out of your hands?
I loved the way the last episode allowed you to outline your own response to those ideas, to plant your flag in the ground one way or another before moving on from these characters and this place. When all's said and done, I felt like I'd been on a complete and self-contained journey with Max Caulfield, one that I'm unlikely to go back and repeat but that I'll be thinking about for a while. In a year of massive sequels and sprawling RPG campaigns, Life is Strange has provided a much-appreciated alternative. Metal Gear Solid V made me wonder what I d do with an oil rig, millions of dollars and a nuke; Life is Strange made me want to go and lie listlessly on the grass somewhere and smoke weed. I love that our chosen hobby has started to make room for both of those things.
We declared Life is Strange a pretty good game in our October review. "Uneven" is how Phil put it; not as well-polished or paced as some of Telltale's games, like The Walking Dead, but "powerfully affecting at its best." That's not an unequivocal recommendation, but there's clearly a lot about it to like, which is why it's nice that there's now a demo on Steam.
The demo, according to a post on the Life Is Strange blog, is the same as the one that's been kicking around on the Xbox and PlayStation consoles for a while now. It's not super-substantial—Rock, Paper, Shotgun says it clocks in at around 20 minutes—but will hopefully be enough to provide a decent taste of what the full game is like, and whether or not it's up your alley.
The complete five-episode season of Life is Strange is available on Steam for $19/ 16, although you might want to bear in mind right about now that the Steam Winter Sale is probably less than a week away. For those who prefer their games stuffed inside cuboid cardboard (remember those?) a boxed Limited Edition, set for release on January 19, is also now available for preorder.
If you've not finished Life is Strange yet, then don't worry, I won't spoil the fact that Doctor Who turns up during the ending to berate Max for abusing her time travel powers to gain the upper hand during awkward social interactions. Oops! Actually I haven't played Life is Strange, but I have just started following a Let's Play on YouTube, and I'm intrigued to see where the story's heading.
I'm enjoying the experience enough to be pleased that a sequel is on the way. Oh yeah: a sequel is on the way. Huzzah! Dontnod co-founder Alain Damasio revealed as much during this French interview, stating that—according to Reddit's translation—"I worked as a script doctor on Life is Strange developed by the studio DONTNOD and I will participate on Life is Strange 2 later".
We've known that Dontnod wants to do a second season/sequel for a while now, with co-Game Director and Art Director Michel Koch stating that they'd probably use an all-new cast if there were to be a follow-up.
We finally reviewed Life is Strange a couple of weeks ago, when the final episode hit, and had some thoughts about the divisive ending too. I obviously haven't read either of those articles, and you probably shouldn't either if you haven't finished the game yet.
Players have been worried that Life Is Strange might not be able to stick the landing from the moment it started flapping its chaos-theory butterfly wings. It s annoyingly common for time travel stories to fall apart in their final moments, whether by breaking their own rules about how time travel works—the rules they spent hours establishing, explaining, and demonstrating—or by using time travel to conveniently undo everything that happened so you wonder why they bothered at all. Science fiction stories love to show off some cool concept and then tell you that cool thing was really bad and no one should ever do it. Cloning dinosaurs? Bad idea. Alien contact? Bad idea. Time travel? Even worse than both of those ideas combined.
Well, we were right to worry. Though there s a lot to love about the fifth and final episode of Life Is Strange, in its closing moments it all goes very wrong in a predictable way. Obviously I m about to spoil that ending for you because it s impossible to talk about otherwise (so, be warned: spoilers below), but if you haven t played Life Is Strange yet I think you should go and do that even though I didn t like its climax. It s a game that gets a lot of other things right and is emotionally affecting in a way that s rare, as I said when calling the first four episodes a gut-punch (and here's Phil's positive review).
Watching the responses arrive on Tumblr and forums there are some people who love it, and though they seem to be in the minority I don t mean to minimize their experience. Episode five of Life Is Strange is subtitled Polarized , which suggests the developers knew they had something that would divide people.
Here s what happens: Max Caulfield, teenage photography student, time wizard, and fan of pleasant jangling indie guitar music, realizes that using her ability to rewind time to save her best friend/love of her life Chloe Price all the way back in episode one has had unexpected knock-on effects. Namely it s caused a tornado to appear somehow and threaten to destroy their hometown of Arcadia Bay. Max has to choose between using her power one last time to go back to the moment of Chloe s death and let her die, or kiss the town and possibly everybody in it goodbye.
Here s why that s rubbish.
It s predictable. Since day one our Life Is Strange bingo cards have had 'go back in time and let Chloe die' on them, but the developers at Dontnod have been using the episodic structure of their game to mess with our expectations enough, through shocking twists and powerful cliffhangers, that doing the obvious boring thing seemed less and less likely. Fans also predicted that someone would namedrop the title of the game at some point and on two occasions in Polarized they almost do. Life is... weird, says Max, while Chloe says Life is... so unfair. They ve been toying with our expectations so much that playing right into them is even more of a letdown than it would normally be.
The choices are simplistic. Like Deus Ex: Human Revolution or Mass Effect 3—you knew Mass Effect 3 was going to be mentioned in an article like this, it s the law—it feels like being asked to push a button to select your ending from a menu at McDonald s. The decisions you ve made previously can lead to one slight change in one of those endings (a friendly hug can become a passionate kiss), but otherwise nothing you ve done makes any difference except your selection from the specials of the day. It s the total opposite of Tales From The Borderlands, which brings back characters you ve helped along the way to make your finale feel unique. Here it s just you and a choice between two different hamburgers.
One ending feels slight. Decide to sacrifice Chloe and you re treated to a heartbreaking goodbye, a retelling of her death, a slideshow of the rippling effects that has on this new timeline, and then a sad funeral sequence that conveniently brings together the cast so you can see if that one other girl lived. If you sacrifice Arcadia Bay instead ( choose the bae over the Bay as Tumblr jokers put it) there s a single scene of the two survivors driving through the ruined town while a song from earlier is replayed and then that s it. It feels cheap, as if the writers felt obliged to put it in for half the players but didn t care enough to make it seem real, or even explain what actually happens to the townspeople. Who lives and dies in this timeline? We ll never know.
Neither ending ties up the mystery of how Max got her powers, or why using those powers caused a natural disaster. There s a vague nod to the butterfly effect—the idea that small changes to complex systems can have drastic consequences over enough time—but no causal link shown between a teenage girl not dying and the unseasonal tornado, snow, dead birds and whales, and appearance of two moons that marked the altered timeline. If the way Max s powers work didn t dictate the final choice it wouldn t be so annoying that their nature is left ambiguous, but since it does that s infuriating.
It s got some unfortunate implications. Max can either flirt with classic nice guy Warren or her BFF Chloe. If your Max chose Chloe then in your version of the 'sacrifice Chloe' ending they share a kiss, though the ending in which she lives is exactly the same no matter who you romanced . The only ending that takes the depiction of their relationship from coy to literal is the one that dooms her, which plays into the disturbingly common trope of homosexual characters being killed off in fiction. The trope lets a straight audience feel sad about the tragic lives of gays without any of the troubling consequences of them achieving a happy ending that might be seen as a reward for being 'deviant'. Obviously I don t think this is the creators intent, but it plays to a clich we could do with less of.
The message that using your powers to change the world is wrong is a troubling one. Max has been compared to a superhero multiple times—Chloe even calls her SuperMax —and it s common in fiction for teen heroes to have power thrust upon them as a metaphor for the ability to impact society that comes with growing up. Spider-Man learns that with great power comes great responsibility; the X-Men decide to protect a world that hates and fears them. Max learns that sometimes a teenage girl needs to die to prevent climate change or something, and the world would be better off if she literally curled up in a ball and did nothing.
Even though I m angry enough about the ending to write a whole piece about it and then have enough crankiness left over to argue in the comments, when I think back on Life Is Strange the ending is not the only thing I remember. I think about how much fun it was playing at Scooby-Doo while sneaking into the high school at night to investigate, how connected I felt to the characters as they grew from slangy stereotypes into real people, and how heart-wrenching it was tumbling into an alternate timeline where changing the past twisted the present into something unrecognisable.
Even episode five has a lot going for it if you ignore its closing minutes. The creepiness of The Dark Room was worthy of Twin Peaks, which Life Is Strange has referenced almost as much as Deadly Premonition did. The previously dickish spoilt bully Nathan Prescott left a voicemail that was surprisingly touching. Using Max s powers to save people from the tornado in a possible future was a fun bit of adventure game puzzling. Being trapped in the retro zone of Max s nightmares and tortured by her subconscious was an effective detour into horror, lightened by a set of surreal text messages received from sources as unlikely as one character s dog.
Life Is Strange is far from the first video game to have a disappointing ending. Even a classic like System Shock 2 has a final cutscene that s hilariously out of sync with the rest of the game's tone, and their somewhat underwhelming conclusions don t stop Knights Of The Old Republic or Half-Life 2 from earning their place on lists of the best games ever. The original ending of Fallout 3 was so rough that an entire DLC add-on was created to rewrite it, four years before Mass Effect 3 did something similar, but we re still drooling at the thought of Fallout 4. We ve forgiven those games because we enjoyed the hours leading up to those endings so much we focus on that instead. We can choose which memories are the ones we care about preserving and, like with photographs, build our albums out of the moments that mattered to us. Life Is Strange is just another game for the Flawed Masterpieces section of the album.