There’s nothing quite like a night of heavy drinking that promises escape from eternal damnation—a premise so ludicrous it could only be conceived by souls who’ve simultaneously embraced nihilism and a particularly potent cocktail. Afterparty, from the masterminds behind Oxenfree, isn’t just a game; it’s a liquid-fueled philosophical treatise wrapped in neon-soaked sardonic wit, where dialogue is the currency and alcohol is the universal translator of human desperation. This Afterparty game review delves into all these aspects.
Abandon All Sobriety, Ye Who Enter Here
Meet Milo and Lola, our protagonists—two twenty-something wanderers who’ve managed the remarkable feat of dying without actually achieving anything memorable in life. Their afterlife? A bureaucratic hellscape that feels uncomfortably similar to last call at your local dive bar, where demons punch timecards and Satan himself moonlights as the world’s most overqualified mixologist. In this Afterparty game review, we see how their journey unfolds.
The game’s central mechanic is brilliantly simple: drinks aren’t just beverages, they’re personality modifiers. One moment you’re mumbling existential platitudes, the next you’re challenging Beelzebub to a rap battle while questioning the fundamental absurdity of cosmic justice. It’s like method acting meets metaphysical karaoke, with a chaser of pure, unfiltered chaos. This Afterparty game review highlights the unique gameplay mechanics.
Dialogue: The Razor’s Edge of Wit
Night School Studio has always walked the tightrope between comedy and melancholy, and Afterparty is their magnum opus of conversational gymnastics. The dialogue flows like top-shelf liquor—smooth, burning, and capable of revealing uncomfortable truths. Every line is a miniature performance art piece, simultaneously mocking and celebrating the human condition.
Imagine Douglas Adams and Franz Kafka collaborating on a drinking game, and you’re somewhere close to the linguistic landscape of this digital netherworld. The fourth wall doesn’t just break; it shatters into a thousand ironic fragments, each reflecting a different shade of self-aware humor. This Afterparty game review wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the brilliant dialogue.
Gameplay: Choose Your Own Alcoholic Adventure
Let’s address the mechanical elephant in the room—Afterparty‘s gameplay is about as traditional as a surrealist cocktail mixed by an existentialist bartender. Navigation is less about precision and more about stumbling purposefully through hell’s neon-lit landscape. Your interactions are choice-driven, which is to say you’ll spend most of your time selecting dialogue options that feel like verbal gymnastics performed while wearing metaphorical beer goggles.
The game’s choice system is less about right or wrong and more about exploring the delightful spectrum of human (and demonic) ridiculousness. Want to challenge Satan to a drinking contest using nothing but sarcasm and pop culture references? Congratulations, you’ve found your gameplay loop. The mechanics are simple enough that even a thoroughly inebriated player could navigate them, yet complex enough to make each playthrough feel like a uniquely catastrophic social experiment.
Beyond the Hangover: A Meditation on Friendship
What elevates Afterparty from mere clever entertainment to something genuinely profound is its beating heart—the friendship between Milo and Lola. They aren’t heroes. They aren’t even particularly successful failures. They’re just two souls navigating an absurd universe, finding connection in the most unlikely of places: literal hell.
As the night progresses, the game reveals itself as a nuanced exploration of transition, regret, and the small moments that define our humanity. It’s less about escaping damnation and more about understanding the damned—including ourselves. This Afterparty game review emphasizes the emotional depth of the story.
The Last Call of Existential Reflection
By the time the credits roll, Afterparty leaves you with more than just a metaphorical hangover. It’s a reminder that humor is often just tragedy wearing its most comfortable drinking shoes, and that sometimes the most meaningful conversations happen when we least expect them—be it in a dive bar, a digital afterlife, or the liminal space between absolute despair and uncontrollable laughter.
A game this audacious deserves to be experienced, not just played. So pour yourself something strong, suspend your disbelief, and prepare for a night out that makes Dante’s Inferno look like a particularly mild pub crawl.
Cheers to the abyss—may it always come with a drink menu.
