Mixtape (XS) - Review
by Lee Mehr , posted 1 day ago / 1,170 Views
Reviewer's Note: Given some of my critiques and praises, it's impossible to avoid SPOILERS altogether. Read on at your own risk.
No matter how much time has passed and what new formats emerge, the almighty Mixtape remains a beloved staple of a bygone music culture. Depending on what circles one enjoined themselves to, it could be measured as a sort of social currency among peers or a method to critique tastes – and oftentimes a mix of both. When used as more than a way to copy/paste every song from an album, though, its chief purpose was to provide a brief window into said mixer. It's not merely about one's musical knowledge but also considered curation, how that kaleidoscopic mix of disparate bands & tracks perfectly communicates what's currently going on in their own life.
Given her unremitting dedication, our teenaged protagonist, Stacey Rockford, would wholeheartedly agree and openly judge anyone who thought otherwise. Before reaching middle school, Stacey was a musical aspirant, eyeballing the role of music supervisor specifically. It's a dream she so fervently believes in that she's forgoing a road trip with her best friends for the off-chance of meeting an industry veteran in New York. It's on this premise that Mixtape hinges both its encyclopedic exposition towards the player (akin to Ferris Bueller's 4th-wall breaking moments) and also its eclectic mix of licensed tracks ranging between shoegaze, synth, grunge, and so on during gameplay. One can't help but appreciate hipster developer Beethoven & Dinosaur's hipster writer/director Johnny Galvatron for finding a great excuse for this setup.
For better and worse, the beginning is a clear signal about the game's intentions. Breezily skateboarding downhill while the trio automatically clap along to Devo's "That's Good" captures a whimsy that would musically contrast with skating games of its own setting: the summer of 1999; likewise, crashing into any vehicles would net you a reduced score and a brutally-animated wipeout in those games, instead of a brief VHS rewind animation taking you back a few seconds. Stacey knows a couple of tricks but isn't concerned about racking up points or sick combos. Even playing is effectively done for you; player expression is welcomed to dress up the scene – if still secondary.
The mentality grows clearer the moment Stacey and her best friends, Slater and Cassandra, are off their boards and hanging in the Rockford home. The walky-talky bits are like a slower Telltale game with no light jog toggle and all movement animated at a deliberately lower framerate (like the SpiderVerse movies), which somehow feels worse when walking versus most action scenes. There's something about their steps being so rigid and petite that makes it seem like they're trying to stay upright on an air hockey table. Her room is a repository of nostalgia, with plenty to comment on. Specially-highlighted items (with a yellow UI effect, no less) take her away to a memory disguised as a gameplay vignette.
Not all reveries will be crowd-pleasers, which is the point. One couldn't think of a better jazz track to clash with an awkward first kiss, in all of its tongue-fondling glory, than Alice Coltrane's "Galaxy in Turiya". The visual details alone – between the uncomfortable interior view of both open mouths, gross strings of saliva, and its gelatinous physics system for both tongues – sell what's little more than jamming both control sticks towards each other. Having to earn the achievement/trophy by doing it for 60 seconds and the prompt for ending it saying "That's Enough" are icing on the hormonal cake. Putting this towards the start primes players to see what other strange avenues Mixtape will go down.
Just as our adolescent trio's emotions can climb, dive, bank, brake, and corkscrew in quick succession, so too do the fantastical filters around these memories. What are relatively small schisms between Stacey & Cassandra will translate into either a sad episode of Stacey retreating as her world turns monochromatic or an angry one of her hellbent on blowing up everything in sight. Subtlety is a foreign language here, but fabulism doesn't care about that anyway. What's more important is the feeling around its surreal imagery, although that's partly distracted by its low-framerate & unimpressive character models. Though still a looker in other respects, Beethoven & Dinosaur's previous, The Artful Escape, is more visually consistent and interesting.
Disappointingly, a rather unadventurous retinue of gameplay concepts diminish Galvatron's nostalgia-fueled fable. Turning an escape scene from the cops into a goofy endless runner with a shopping cart partly works, whereas a post-shoplifting scene is just a brief cutscene – as though no idea came to mind. Not every vignette has to be intense either; a breezy moment like concocting a new alchemical slushie combo captures that nostalgia for any Gen X or Millennial mall rat. It's more about context and motivation than content. By comparison, What Remains of Edith Finch has several one-off mechanics with little interactivity; and yet, each one coalesces into a greater whole because they're meaningfully considered for that specific character. 
Of course, Edith Finch's core conceit lends itself to more diversity than idyllic nostalgia trips while the gang tracks down a booze stash for tonight's big party. It wouldn't be a modern hang-out movie or game without the latter. The problem there is personality. Setting aside my foaming antipathy to West Coast smugness for one minute, a big challenge when writing petulant protagonists comes down to balance – earnestly displaying flaws with wit and regard. Mixtape's modus operandi, though, is serving character traits as the main course, which is reflected in its wobbly execution. Instead of emulating the playfulness of Ferris Bueller, Stacey reads as an awkward fusion of Bella DeLong trying a "Cali Skater Girl" voice with music-monologuing rivaled only by Patrick Bateman before cleaving Paul Allen's brainbox in twain. Alright, hyperbole aside, even with acknowledging she's supposed to be a panjandrum (pot meet kettle), something more... tangible and earnest would've gone a long way.
That critique would almost extend to the whole cast were it not for Cassandra's tension with her overbearing policeman father. It's a familiar cliché that succinctly explains her rebellious streak with her new friends during high school. The problem is, her fiery emotional resolution with dear old dad feels so phony. It's odd because we get a short Backyard Baseball-styled vignette mechanically highlighting the disparity between her and Stacey's batting skills, but no gameplay mechanics are used to underscore the supposed suffocation of her parents? Without quality characterization, the reckless actions this crew are culpable of near the end paint them as jackasses; hell, looking back in hindsight at their usual disregard makes them even worse. 
Those kinds of omissions echo throughout the game in other ways. Persnickety players will immediately question the "late 90s nostalgia" when certain rooms are littered with whatever 80s, 90s, and maybe early 00s paraphernalia that's just "retro" for its own sake; if questionable world design seems a bit too nitpicky, then maybe a few anachronistic word choices will stick out like a sore thumb. Perhaps getting too fussy about details distracts from what's essentially meant as more of an American fairy tale – as though throwing together a bunch of late 20th-century Americana is the broader point. If so, then it feels like Mixtape wants to have its cake and eat it, which also applies to its affection towards John Hughes' best 80s films. It wants to emulate that kind of energy and spontaneity without a similar depth.
What's left is both a musical and mechanical farrago that never hits a consistent stride. Like the typical Mixtape from a self-absorbed acquaintance in high school, Beethoven & Dinosaur's eclectic track list – between the headliners and B-sides – will occasionally capture a song that speaks directly to you. For whatever credit those ephemeral highs still earn, they're weighed against a confused emotional core that tries to paper over it with music-themed circumlocution and "edgy" attitudes. That can only go so far for both a John Hughes-inspired story lacking his sincerity and a game just marginally concerned about player expression.
Contractor by trade and writer by hobby, Lee's obnoxious criticisms have found a way to be featured across several gaming sites: N4G, VGChartz, Gaming Nexus, DarkStation, TechRaptor, and Cubed3! He started gaming in the mid-90s and has had the privilege in playing many games across a plethora of platforms. Reader warning: each click given to his articles only helps to inflate his Texas-sized ego. Proceed with caution.
VGChartz Verdict
5
Acceptable
This review is based on a digital copy of Mixtape for the XS
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Weird how critics were going crazy over this game at launch. Doesn’t seem like it has landed well with anyone since.
Yeah, seems like they got bit hard by the nostalgia bug, which I can understand to an extent. It's a shame how much that early adulation & following blowback poisoned the broader conversation.
