The Drifter

The year is 1986; you sit eagerly in front of the screen of your Commodore 64 with your can of New Coke in one hand and a Tracker bar in the other; eight minutes have passed as the colours flicker by, but you know this time you will beat Jareth. The splash screen appears; Labyrinth: The Computer Game faces its next challenger. Nearly four decades later, and most of the common mechanics and ideas we associate with the point-and-click genre can be traced back to Labyrinth: The Computer Game, the command line was removed in favour of simple, context-sensitive inputs, and the world itself was designed around its interactive elements – so how do you improve on a winning formula?

Enter The Drifter, a new spin on the well-loved genre that tries reinventing both the game and its controls to suit a modern audience, but it remains to be seen whether this innovation is a step in the right direction. Taking on the role of Mick Carter, you are thrown into the deep end of a sinister conspiracy (as well as the deep end of a reservoir, but more on that later) where you must use the objects around you to progress further through each scenario – it’s standard point-and-click fare at first, but there are already a few glaringly obvious changes that improve the way players interact with the world.

The first thing most seasoned players will notice is the control scheme – as well as introducing two options for controller support, allowing you to choose between cursor controls or a unique radial menu, it also removes one of the most notable parts of the format: the humble verb. Instead of selecting whether to “look at” or “pick up” objects, The Drifter instead chooses to make all actions context sensitive, removing the need to use the right action in each scenario. Though this makes the gameplay much smoother and significantly friendlier for those unfamiliar with the genre, it comes at the expense of some interaction, meaning no more attempts at picking up campfires or pushing rats. This is even more noticeable during segments with more complex puzzles, leading to more mindless clicking around. 

But this isn’t to say the game doesn’t have its humour; despite the tense thriller setting, the game still understands its core, and the developers have done well to make sure there are a number of unique interactions, such as attempting to use a brick on a rather rude groundskeeper leading the protagonist to remark that murder probably isn’t the right way to go – though trying it does net you an achievement! 

One thing the game does spectacularly well is set the tone – the pixel art combines well with the gloomy backdrops to create tension, but it’s the pacing of each encounter that keeps it so palpable, breaking away from the rigidity of the action-event-reaction cycle to instead put pressure on the player. Early in the game you find yourself at the bottom of a reservoir, a bag over your head and your arms and legs tied. Suddenly the music becomes disjointed, a sinister sting taking over as you realise you need to act fast. In this moment you forget yourself; how can you untie your arms and legs? How will you hold your breath? How can you… the oxygen leaves your lungs, and you pass out, sinking into the darkness.

Suddenly, you find yourself at the bottom of a reservoir, a bag over your head and your arms and legs tied. Mick remarks on this sudden rewind, this time drawing a breath before sinking into the water. You remember the knife in your pocket, cutting your arms free and pulling the bag away from your face. You start cutting at the rope around your legs, but it’s not enough; even with the extra breath, you can’t hold it, and you find yourself drifting…

This cycle of death is a common theme in many modern ARPG titles, usually associated with souls and rogue-like games; however, to see it in action in a point-and-click adventure is refreshing, giving the game both a genuine sense of peril as well as a mystery to unravel: are you in a time loop? Who are these strange technologically advanced kidnappers? Will Mick ever make it to the funeral he is supposed to be attending?

Mercifully, one of The Drifter’s best features is the puzzles themselves, each more grounded and sensible in their execution than others in the genre. Despite their popularity, games such as Broken Sword, Thimbleweed Park and Discworld all featured remarkable leaps in logic, requiring you to solve puzzles in nonsensical ways to proceed – even the platformer/point-and-click hybrid Lair of the Clockwork God mocked this trend, so it is refreshing to see The Drifter tackle the issue at its root.

Not only does The Drifter feature a well-formed story, but it also has some of the finest voice acting, particularly from Adrian Vaughan, whose gruff delivery suits both the serious and slightly sillier moments in the game, giving even more volume to Mick’s bold character. The game is already an auditory joy to play, but the fully voiced script is definitely the cherry on top of this delicious conspiracy-filled pie; it’s not just conspiracies and mysterious organisations that drive the story either, with the more human elements of the game bleeding in at the edges to tell a story about loss and self-isolation. 

There’s something to be said about the synergy of all of The Drifter’s different elements – putting its thriller status front and centre means that the game manages to create a stark contrast between the slower, more melancholy parts of the game and those moments of sharp tension; visually, the game uses every tool at its disposal to keep the player guessing, with the pixel art style able to both beautifully render scenes while also obscuring details, making sure the plot always stays one step ahead of the player.

Outside of its visuals, the game’s combined use of music to build and release pressure, an unreliable narrator in Mick, and an introduction that sets the pace and tone without delay serve to showcase everything that makes The Drifter excel compared to its peers.