If you’re just joining us, you should probably check out the review of Lost Records: Bloom & Rage (Tape 1) first. But first, it behooves me to state clearly that significant spoilers for Tape 1 will follow. I would recommend at least playing that section of the game before reading on.
To recap, in 1995, teens Nora Malakian, Autumn Lockheart and Kat Mikaelsen befriend our protagonist Swann Hollaway, and the quartet become close over the course of a summer (and the duration of the first part). Their adventures culminate in an impromptu punk rock show in the parking lot of a bar. Unfortunately, the sabotaging of the show by locals (they cut the power) seems to rile up young Kat enough to make her nose bleed quite heavily. It is revealed that she is suffering from leukaemia, before she is whisked home. Tape 2 starts off on what appears to be the day after the events that concluded Tape 1. The game also takes place in a second timeline, 2022, where Autumn, Nora and Swann have reunited after nearly three decades to discuss a mystery package received by the former. It is assumed — or rather, accepted — that Kat is deceased by this point.
Though I thought it looked outstanding and had an intriguing premise, Tape 1 was let down massively by the characters and storytelling. I’d concluded the review by stating, “I hope that the team over at Don’t Nod has been saving all the good stuff for Tape 2 and that an avalanche of cool stuff is unveiled when that episode drops”.
As a whole, Lost Records: Bloom & Rage (including the two-part episodic structure) had the prospective to be a greater-than-the-sum-of-its-parts experience. However, as it turns out, this was a very basic story, inhabited by mostly dull (in the final analysis) characters, and told in a rather bland manner. Coupled with the fact that the gameplay mechanics tend to get tiresome after a while, this is a recipe for disaster for any narrative adventure worth its salt.
Few lessons learnt, most ignored
Upon the release of the first half of this brand-new narrative adventure franchise, my primary concern was that the two-month gap between its two parts would negatively affect the finale and the overall experience. We’ll get into that shortly.
And so, we kick things off in Tape 2 with Swann forced to clean up the mess left in the aftermath of the ‘gig’. As we participate in her efforts to reconnect with the rest of the gang, it becomes clear that while Tape 1 focussed on the four girls spending time together, Tape 2 is more about one-on-one relationship-building. We are given a closer look (and the agency to somewhat affect) bonds between Swann and Nora, Autumn and Kat’s sister Dylan. I appreciated the ability to dig deeper into the characters, their respective pasts and opinions on the supernatural stuff (not going to spoil it for you) that went down in the first part.
Some of the one-on-one sequences (particularly those with Kat) are quite interesting and, at times, moving. The writing seems to have improved slightly over last time — but only in a manner significant enough to make me want to find out what happens next. There is a greater sense of urgency in terms of the dialogue; however, it falls into the old bad habits of meandering and losing focus. Making matters worse is the fact that the game keeps trying to shoehorn the camcorder gameplay mechanic — described in the Tape 1 review — into these interactions, which serves to disrupt the flow and mood of various scenes. The developers have mercifully eased off on the deployment of the camcorder minigame. Tape 2 runs a couple of hours shorter than Tape 1 overall, and while I’d like to say that is the better for it, alas, I cannot, for reasons elaborated on below.
Lost potential
In my opinion, the halfway mark reveal that Kat is suffering from leukaemia was an emotional crescendo that the rest of the game fails to follow. Whether in terms of the impact, gravity or repercussions, nothing that happens in Tape 2 comes close to matching the Tape 1 finale. And that’s the biggest problem with Lost Records: Bloom & Rage — it’s already played its biggest card, and so the second part is full of what feels like filler material to create an artificial sense of intrigue. And the most egregious aspect of it all is the bizarre yet convenient rationale for why this previously tight group of friends has splintered irreparably (or so it would seem).
Credit where it’s due and the various ways in which Swann, Nora and Autumn reacted to the news about Kat was handled delicately and with nuance. It’s just that everything that followed left a lot to be desired. The voice-acting, for instance, was simply insufferable this time — packed as it was with breathy and stilted intonations and utterances. There’s a time and place for sighing while speaking, but the entire duration of a game is neither of those. I was hoping for a bit more familiarity and comfort between Swann and the other characters this time around, but she seemed just as awkward and confused around them as before.
Other stray observations include that while the game kept dropping hints in the form of news clippings, graffiti and random signs that something of an occult nature lay under the surface, this was never addressed. It left me wondering whether some sections of the game had been left on the editing floor, because it’s illogical to imagine that all these hints lead to nothing. Gameplay felt as limited as before, but at least this time, the use of the camcorder was more tempered. I had a slightly increased sense of agency with dialogue options and decisions (in terms of shaping my story) this time, and achieved one of a possible four different endings. I might embark on a quest to unlock some of those a bit later in time. Then there’s the cheeky wink and tease of a possible sequel (in the post-credits sequence) that jars massively when viewed alongside the damp squib that is the final act of the game.
And my final gripe is reserved for the music. While I’m aware that I may be guilty of some casual ‘punk rock elitism‘ here, these words have to be said. I’d noted in the Tape 1 review that the music was generic, but holy hell! For a game that gives off vibes of supposedly being ‘all about the music, man’, the soundtrack is as dull as dishwater. This is compounded quite tragically by the fact that the centrepiece of the lead quartet’s musical journey, an angsty riot grrrl-inspired ditty called See You In Hell that pops up frequently over the course of Tapes 1 and 2 is utterly awful. Jangly, basic, generic (there’s that word again) and full of lyrics that make those of I’m an Island Boy sound deep and introspective, I was surprised that the game was full of so many versions of the terribly mediocre song.
In summation, I’d hoped the second part would turn things around for what I imagine is a franchise in the making. Alas, not only did it not do that, overwhelmingly so at times, but in some ways even went on to ruin the overall experience. In a way, the two-month break between episodes helped to break up the monotony of the limited gameplay loops and increasingly humdrum characters. I can imagine being quite frustrated if I was playing the whole thing at one go, so I guess that’s a W for the developers. For the rest of it, Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is a missed opportunity to say something meaningful about rebellion, being a teenaged girl, coping with losing a dear friend to cancer, bullying maybe and the ’90s in general. Instead, we’re stuck with cliché, unmemorable characters, lazy writing and lazier music. As a huge fan of Life is Strange and Remember Me (and an average-sized fan of Twin Mirror), I was really expecting to love this one. Oh well.
Game reviewed on PlayStation 5. Review code provided by publisher
