With its stunning visuals and captivating storyline, Lost Records has the potential to become Don’t Nod’s best game yet.
The quote delivered halfway through Lost Records Rage and Bloom’s “tape,” first chapter is probably the best way to express what Don’t Nod’s newest title is all about. Lost Records celebrates the contradictory and melodramatic nature of teenage life. The game understands our desire to be unique, unknowable, understood, accepted and loved. In the eight hours that make up the film, youth’s assumed invincibility is stretched beyond its limits. How is it that a summer – or – can feel so fragile yet everlasting? This is what makes our teenage years so magical.
Lost Records is a stunning game that captures the essence of this phenomenon. It doesn’t just settle on being driven by nostalgia and reminiscences about what it was like to grow up in the 1990s. It is a game that revolves around a supernatural, eerie mystery that spans almost three decades. The four women who are involved with it face extinction as the story unfolds. The slow, intense narrative is a great way to explore girlhood, friendships, sexuality and individuality. It also helps you understand the changes that occur as you move from childhood into middle age. Lost Records is one of Don’t Nod’s most successful games. It combines dynamic characters with cinematic visuals and beautifully rendered character models.
Kat holding a sparkler.
Lost Records is set in two different time periods, one being summer 1995 and the second roughly two years after the COVID-19 epidemic. It follows the shy redheaded Swann Holloway through her dark memories of adolescence. Autumn, one of Swann’s childhood friends, contacts her with a frightening message: Someone knows their identity, has seen what they have done, and is sending them a mystery package. Autumn asks Swann, Nora, and Kat to come to Velvet Cove, their hometown, and meet with her to discuss the matter.
This set-up didn’t take me long to get my teeth in; I became instantly curious. It didn’t take long for this set up to grab me; I was instantly curious. The game may frustrate others, but I found it fascinating. Its charming and mundane activities, paired with the breadcrumbs that led to answers, always led me back to new, more interesting questions. The story was very eerie, with the cabin that I found, which seemed to have cultist marks, as well as the paranormal events and horrors that were increasing.
You play the role of a young Swann who is enjoying her last Michigan summer before moving to Canada with her family. Swann’s introversion is evident from the start. She prefers nature, films, her cat and X-Files Fanfiction to other people. However, all this changes when she meets best friends-turned-bandmates Autumn and Nora, and a scrappy, homeschooled girl named Kat. Swann, despite the fact that she is moving, seizes this opportunity to meet new people and makes friends with the girls. She eventually joins Autumn and Nora’s band Bloom and Rage as the music video director, while Kat takes on the role of songwriter. Swann captures their misadventures on Swann’s trusty camcorder.
Swann’s camera is the primary way players interact in Lost Records. This includes Don’t Nod’s choice-based gameplay where your choices determine the outcome of the entire game, and the feelings of certain characters towards your character. The camcorder was a great way to express my creativity and have fun. I’m usually critical of games with a lot of narrative, but little interaction. You will be walking around and interacting with the items to flesh out the game world and explore girlhood. The camcorder, however, adds structure and personal touches that are otherwise missing. Although I wish we had more freedom to explore the world of Lost Record, which is very linear and isolated compared to other Don’t Nod titles, I loved finding subjects to record. Additionally, seeing my footage–meticulously trimmed up and carefully curated thanks to my tendency to overshoot footage and the game’s built-in editor–featured in cutscenes made me feel more personally connected to both Swann and the game as a whole. Swann is recording in the darkness while Kat, Nora and Autumn are standing behind her.
It was easy to connect to Lost Records on many other levels. Although Swann, her friends and I are all a few years older than each other, there were parts of me and my childhood in the intricately-designed environments of these games. While I walked through Swann’s bedroom, I remember my Spacemaker pencil box and how I loved The Dark Crystal. My first crush was Nora’s boisterous guitar-slinging Nora. I also saw my own mother on the note Swann’s mother had left for her, saying that the diet snack she bought her had been “only 50 calories!”
Swann’s awkwardness, insecurity, and self-consciousness can be irritating at times, but I must admit I recognized a lot of myself. Her demeanor is a good representation of what many teenagers are like, even though we may later find it grating or overly dramatic. Her love for recording was something I could relate to very strongly, as I, too, was the resident videographer in my friends’ groups. This may be because I was also overweight and insecure as a child, but it comforted me to see her live life the same way. She would capture moments and things that reminded her of all the goodness and beauty in the world, and that will ultimately show her she is happy, loved, and can again.
The dialogue that I selected became more confident as I got closer to Swann and Swann got closer to her friends (and possible love interests). This game was a tangible example of how relationships empower people. But I felt shame for stepping on a friend’s boundaries and was reminded of my mistakes as a girl. It’s actually a testimony to the writing of the game that much of its reliability was derived from witnessing specific interactions and dynamics, rather than injecting trite moments (and cringe-inducing ones at times) “hey, remember this thing” . We all remember and love Tamogotchis and Pogs. The game that makes you recall the time when a girl kissed you for the first time or the time you and your friends played Truth or Dare and one of you ended up hurt and overexposed is a much more rewarding achievement. Swann’s memories forced me to remember some of mine, which was a rewarding but vulnerable experience. Swann holding her Moth Girl plushie.
Lost Records’ depth, artistic quality, and cinematic appeal are also key factors in evoking a strong emotional response in me. This game presents adolescence in a way that is almost like a dream, as we might see it looking back. It makes sense because the narrative is delivered through a conversation between two former friends. I was constantly impressed at the visuals, colors, and surreal, bittersweet atmosphere curated in the game, as well as the soundtrack–stunningly composed by Chromatics singer Ruth Radlet–that accompanied it all. The game is grounded in realism, which makes it feel real and immersive. Nora, who is always portrayed as being flirty, beautiful, funny, and outrageously cool, had red hot acne scars on her cheeks, just like we all have. The experience felt authentic; it felt like another aspect of Lost Records which was frank and unreserved.
Lost Records is a game that explores and portrays adolescence more than many other games or media. As a lover of cliches, I would argue that this is for good reasons. It’s no secret that the period between childhood and adulthood can be filled with emotions, hormones, self-discovery and defiance. These experiences will ultimately help you to shed some of your old self. Both the Lost Records story and that of the time “current” in which 40-year-old women come together to dispel the notion that they are old, tired, or boring, feel fascinating and new. Lost Records: Bloom and Rage, as it currently stands, is poised for greatness. The success of this game will ultimately depend on the second part of the title, scheduled for release in April. The team must be able to answer questions, take action and show patience in order to succeed. I am confident that they will.
