Review for Lost at Sea
Trauma, and the guilt that may stem from it, can have a debilitating effect on one’s life. In Studio Fizbin’s Lost at Sea, players take on the role of Anna, a woman in the later years of her life who finds herself wandering a mysterious island purgatory, reliving her trauma. It's a smart concept, giving a brief virtual tour through the stages of grief. Though unreliable collision mechanics and simplistic visuals do somewhat derail the experience, the game still gets its message through, and the brief time you spend stranded on this tiny island is ultimately memorable, even if it’s not always enjoyable.
The game opens with Anna floating in a life raft amidst a vast blue ocean. Ahead, a small island can be seen. This opening section tours players through the game’s basic mechanics, teaching them the controls, as well as introducing them to the surreal setting that awaits. Lost at Sea unfolds entirely from a first-person perspective, and the controls adhere to the standard WASD scheme. Left-click is used for interacting with points of interest, as highlighted by the cursor. Right-click brings up the compass - a necessary tool for directing you to different points on the island. Shift toggles between running and walking, and CTRL allows you to crouch (though I never found this necessary).
Upon making landfall, it becomes evident that this is no regular deserted island. It is filled with objects and structures allegorically connected to Anna’s life. Shortly after departing the beach, for example, you come to a massive blanket fort filled with children’s toys. Curiously, Anna is not shocked by this discovery. Though the exact source of these structures is not immediately clear, the broader narrative quickly comes into focus as you explore the island, and learn of the protagonist's history.
There are four main areas, or “stages of life”, on the small island, each containing several memories for players to restore. These memories, or “mirages”, are the outline of an object related to a specific event in Anna’s life, like an armchair or bed, for example. The memories can be accessed and completed in any order. Following the natural route of past to present will help illuminate Anna's life history in the clearest way, though that’s not to say you’ll be totally lost as to what’s going on if you uncover them out of order.
Each memory prompts a short statement of reflection from Anna, linked in some way to the object or scene discovered. Players can then follow a marker on their compass that is linked to an object, hidden somewhere on the island. After they reach this point, a short puzzle or interactive sequence will play out. Once this has been completed, the player can restore the memory by revisiting the “stage of life” from whence it came. An expanded statement, followed by a piece of art representing the scene, then follows, completing the quest at hand.
Ultimately Lost at Sea boils down to a series of short fetch quests. There isn’t much to see on the island outside of the “stages of life” and memory sequences, but retreading old ground, and having the island transform to host the various puzzle sequences at different points in the game, keep things somewhat interesting in spite of the redundancy. These puzzles not only reveal more about the circumstances by which Anna became “lost at sea”, but they also serve to help her work through the trauma.
Though there is some challenge in figuring out what to do during memory sequences, none are meant to stagger the player for long periods. The activities are varied, with sequences like a game of musical chairs, juggling a set of floating cubes, or running along the beach. All tie in with the memory they are supposed to represent, and do a good job of communicating the struggles of the heroine outside of her monologues. Some of these tasks took me a few tries to figure out, as no set rules are explained, but once I began to play as the game intended the solutions quickly presented themselves, and the emotional impact of the sequences landed.
Once you have completed all of the memories in a “stage of life”, a white orb will spawn and ascend up the mountain situated in the middle of the island. Sitting atop this mountain is a massive, overturned ship, the path to which is blocked by a toxic black fog. As you escort the orb up the mountain, the orb will dissipate the fog, allowing you to progress further. If you touch the black mist before the orb has dissipated it, you will faint, respawning a short distance away.
This will also occur if you fall from too great a height or go somewhere you’re not supposed to, like into the sea. I succumbed to one of these lite-deaths as soon as I made landfall, in fact. I decided to wade into the water, only to have the screen go black and then have Anna reawaken shortly thereafter (setting a new personal record from the time of starting to dying in a video game). Death doesn’t have any real detrimental effect, aside from wasting a few seconds of your time, though what exactly triggers it can be hard to pinpoint at first. Water inside of the island is fine to touch, but if you approach the shoreline proper, the black mist will start to invade the screen, giving you (an all too brief) warning to back away.
The height from which you can survive a fall too seems fluid, as I flew down some near vertical slopes while crisscrossing the island without consequence, but then fainted upon seemingly tripping over my own feet at other spots. You can toggle "run" on and off, which is essential to some puzzle segments, though most of the time you’ll want to keep running so as to clear the long distances on the island. While I'd hardly call Lost at Sea a platformer, you can hop, skip, and jump your way over much of the natural topography, though with some questionable collision detection you’re bound to faint due to mysterious causes from time to time, or get stuck on the architecture, which can be mildly frustrating.
Then there is the “fear” - a mysterious purple and black phantom that roams the island, hunting you down. All you have to do to vanquish this foe is stare at it, i.e., hover your cursor over it for a short amount of time. It will bob and weave to avoid your sights, requiring a bit of dexterity, but for the most part encounters with this being are quickly resolved. You are given a heads-up that the “fear” is approaching via text in the bottom left corner, followed by the sky changing from day to night.
The “fear” is quite slow, and easy enough to fend off, though thanks to the fact it can move through solid objects, it may sometimes get the jump on you. I was tagged by the “fear” twice in my playthrough; once while I was traversing a narrow passage and couldn’t spot where it was coming from before it was too late. It adds a bit of suspense to the game, though it’s hardly Miasmata by comparison. The “fear” won’t spawn while you're in any given “stage of life” area, giving you some reprieve, though when wandering the island proper it can be irritating to fend the creature off every minute or so.
Lost at Sea was built in Unity. It adheres to a realistic graphical style, with the island looking more or less “natural” (aside from some primitive looking polygonal constructions and abrupt contrasts between textures, like sand, grass and boulders), with surreal elements scattered throughout in the “stages of life.” The “stages of life” are made up of odd constructions, like school buses assembled into a tree house village, or a suburban neighbourhood reconstructed in a small shoreside alcove.
The lighting effects, while atmospheric, can be distracting due to the heavy saturation, making it hard to see whether your cursor is illuminated or not, signifying a point of interaction. The heavy yellow and orange sunshine coating the island too can make for some weird effects, like the water appearing black, as though it has a negative film filter over it.
The black mist and “fear” have their intended effect, letting the player know what is okay and not okay to touch, though it doesn’t feel quite as developed from an artistic standpoint as the rest of the game. Why the “fear” couldn’t manifest in different forms, surprising the player by way of morphing into renditions of characters in Anna's life, for example, may have been more effective than the generic purple and black creep infecting the landscape.
Anna is voiced, and the actor does an admirable job of bringing her to life, recounting both the joy and pain of the memories explored. It’s a shame then that the “fear” - the only other being on the island - isn’t voiced, and instead only announces its presence with text.
After restoring a memory, a still image illustration will appear to punctuate the scene. Though these are a nice touch, the sound effects that accompany them sound a bit cheap. A couple in particular involving Anna’s son, Danny, and his grandfather laughing are especially egregious, sounding like freeware audio clips, and the dip in quality compared to Anna’s performance does slightly detract from the scenes’ impact.
When wandering the island, singing birds and rolling water add a pleasant layer of immersion to the experience, breaking up the long treks back and forth across the landmass. When the “fear” is closing in, it emanates a creepy reverberation, signaling its approach. Music is reserved, with only a select few gentle instrumental bits playing at certain points, but the inclusion does help land the emotional impact when needed, even if it’s not something you’d listen to outside of the game.
Lost at Sea only took me about 2 hours to complete, and that’s about all the time a game like this needs. The game ends with a brief but appropriate end to Anna's arc, giving closure (though not a full explanation) to the island adventure. While one could go back for a second playthrough, experiencing the events in a different order, there’s not much to justify it. The island isn’t that interesting to explore or that pretty to look at, and thanks to the constant stalking of the “fear”, there’s not really any opportunity to just sit back and relax. The occasional hiccup in hit detection too can be frustrating, and while the puzzles are serviceable for their intended bite-sized challenges, none are so enjoyable that you’ll want to play them over and over again.
It’s evident Lost at Sea was put together by a team of people who really cared about telling this difficult story. A game about trauma isn’t really a fun game in the traditional sense. However, the experience of working through trauma from the perspective of someone else is nevertheless impactful, and for those looking for a subdued and slow-paced adventure, Lost at Sea may be worth a look.
WHERE CAN I DOWNLOAD Lost at Sea
Lost at Sea is available at:
- GOG -80%
- Steam
- HumbleBundle
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