Mixtape

I am exactly the kind of person Mixtape seems like it was made for on paper. I grew up with a steady diet of coming-of-age movies, particularly the kind that were everywhere throughout the late ’90s and 2000s. I have a soft spot for movies like Superbad, Accepted, American Pie, Mean Girls, Bring It On, Juno, and Easy A. I like stories about teenagers figuring themselves out, friendships changing, and that weird period of life when you realize that the people you’ve grown up with may not necessarily be the people you’re going to grow old with.

That is a big reason why I was so interested in Mixtape. The premise sounded right up my alley. Three friends spend their last night together, reliving memories through a collection of interactive musical sequences while confronting the fact that their lives are about to move in different directions. The Steam description calls it “one final adventure” set to “the soundtrack of a generation,” and after seeing the game during the Xbox Games Showcase back in 2024, I remember thinking that the combination of story, music, and nostalgia could make for something special.

It also comes from Beethoven & Dinosaur and is published by Annapurna Interactive, a publisher with a pretty impressive history of putting out unusual narrative-driven games. Outer Wilds, Stray, and What Remains of Edith Finch are obvious examples of games that have left a major impression on players, while Neon White, The Pathless, and Lorelei and the Laser Eyes demonstrate just how willing Annapurna is to take chances on unconventional ideas.

So when I finally started Mixtape at the end of July, a couple of months after its release, I was genuinely excited. I had heard plenty of good things about it, and I wanted to see whether those expectations were justified or whether I had simply missed the game because I was busy playing everything else.

Unfortunately, after roughly four hours and fifteen minutes with it, I walked away with a feeling that is difficult to shake: I really wanted to like Mixtape more than I actually did.

There is no question that Mixtape is a gorgeous game.

The game immediately recommends a controller, which was an easy decision for me because I prefer playing with a controller whenever possible. From there, the presentation grabbed my attention almost immediately. The characters and environments have a stylized, almost stop-motion-like 3D appearance that reminded me of the Spider-Verse movies. The visual style has that same sense of exaggerated movement and artistic personality, and when it is combined with the colorful environments, it creates a world that looks distinctly different from most narrative adventure games.

The setting also has a nostalgic quality that is difficult to ignore. I’m a ’90s kid, and while I was pretty young during much of that decade, the game constantly reminded me of the things I remember from that period and the early 2000s. Cassette tapes, Polaroid cameras, VCRs, big box televisions, skateboards, recorded television programs and other pieces of that era are scattered throughout the experience.

There was something particularly nostalgic about seeing Stacy record MTV onto a VHS tape because I immediately thought about doing the same thing with wrestling. I used to record wrestling every Monday night because WCW and WWE were unfortunately on at the exact same time. Those little details are where Mixtape can be really effective because it understands that nostalgia isn’t always about some major cultural moment. Sometimes it’s about seeing an old piece of technology and suddenly remembering what you used to do with it.

The game’s strongest sequences combine those visuals with music and movement. At its best, Mixtape feels like an interactive music video. You aren’t necessarily being challenged by traditional gameplay mechanics; instead, you’re participating in a memory as a song plays, moving characters or interacting with the environment in rhythm with what is happening on screen.

One of the earliest examples is a sequence set in a car where Stacy, Cassandra and Slater are driving around while Silverchair’s “Freak” plays. You’re controlling all three characters simultaneously, pressing buttons to make them headbang, turn on lights, honk the horn, interact with their food and generally rock out to the music. It is a genuinely fun idea.

The same thing happens during other sequences, where the gameplay is essentially designed around helping you participate in a memory rather than challenging you. Sometimes that works beautifully. Other times, it feels like you’re performing an extremely simple task because the game needs something for you to do while the story continues.

That distinction ultimately became the biggest problem I had with Mixtape.

At the heart of Mixtape is Stacy Rockford and her two friends, Cassandra Marino and Von Slater. The three have grown up together, and the game spends much of its runtime showing you the memories that shaped their friendship.

Stacy is particularly obsessed with music and dreams of becoming a music supervisor. She believes getting her personal mixtape into the hands of music supervisor Bella Delton could be her ticket into the music industry, which is why she is preparing to leave for New York. The problem is that her decision to pursue that future comes at the expense of a road trip that the three friends had planned together.

That conflict is where I think Mixtape has a genuinely interesting story. The game is essentially about the end of an era. Stacy wants to move forward. Her friends have their own plans. The friendship that once felt like the most permanent thing in their lives is suddenly being tested by adulthood, ambition and the realization that everyone isn’t necessarily going to move forward together.

That is something I think most people can relate to on some level. There is a particular melancholy to watching these characters reminisce about their childhood while knowing that they are approaching a point where those memories are going to become exactly that: memories. The game understands that growing up isn’t necessarily about one massive event that changes everything. Sometimes it is simply the gradual realization that the people you spent every day with aren’t going to be around every day anymore.

I also appreciated the dynamic between the three characters. Cassandra can be pretty damn harsh toward Stacy, frequently throwing little digs at her and even bringing up how much cooler Stacy’s sister is. But as the story progresses, you see how loyal Cassandra actually is. There is a flashback where Cassandra takes the blame for the trio throwing toilet paper at the principal’s house, potentially saving Stacy from expulsion.

That made me appreciate Cassandra more than I initially did.

Stacy, meanwhile, comes across as considerably more self-centered. Her ambitions aren’t inherently wrong, but she doesn’t always seem to recognize how much her choices affect the people around her. That tension between pursuing your own future and remaining loyal to the people who helped you get there is one of the more interesting aspects of the story.

The problem is that Mixtape never quite made me care about these characters as much as I wanted to.

When Nostalgia Isn’t Enough

This is where my experience with Mixtape becomes difficult to separate from my personal reaction to the story.

I understand what the game is trying to do. I understand the themes. I understand the nostalgia. I understand why these characters are important to each other. I understand what the game is saying about growing up, friendship, expectations, rebellion, ambition and moving into the next stage of your life.

I just didn’t feel it. That is a difficult problem for a narrative-focused game to overcome because there isn’t much else underneath it to compensate. Mixtape is essentially a walking simulator with interactive minigames, and that is perfectly fine when the story is strong enough to carry the experience. But if you aren’t emotionally invested in the characters, those relatively simple gameplay sequences become much more noticeable.

There were moments when I was genuinely vibing with the game. There were other moments when I was straight-up bored.

I could walk around a room, examine an object, trigger another flashback, play a small minigame and then move into the next memory. There is usually a yellow circle highlighting the object that advances the story, which I actually appreciated because it gives you the choice to explore without forcing you to wander around aimlessly when you simply want to see what happens next.

But the exploration rarely feels like exploration. It is more like moving through a movie. And that isn’t necessarily a criticism by itself. Plenty of games have successfully adopted that structure. The problem is that Mixtape needed its story to grab me more strongly than it did.

At one point, I found myself thinking that I had reached the first hour of a movie that I wasn’t particularly enjoying, but I was far enough into it that I wanted to see how it ended. That feeling followed me for much of the second half.