Its dialogue can be disastrous, with characters spewing lines that feel obviously conceived by an older, all-male writing staff. Its plot twists and turns can be bizarre, and the story ultimately reaches heights that some might find not just melodramatic but incredulous.
But Life is Strange affected me so, so deeply in spite of these flaws. Playing as new kid and misfit Max Caulfield was not only an entertaining experience, thanks to committed world-building and character development, but a powerful one. My choices in the game were so meaningful, had such an impact on the story, that at times I forced myself to step away from the game, shaken by my decision-making.
Even though the gameplay hinges on the ability to rewind, there's no way for me as the player to undo the memory of my actions. And at some of the most brutal moments, even Max cannot turn back time.
I'll never forget the heartbreaking turn of events halfway through the season that dramatically altered the rest of the game and my relationship to its characters, all of whom I'd come to care about over the course of a few hours. It was something that I could have prevented — me! Not Max, but me! — but I failed to make the right moves, and I'm still devastated by it.
A lot of these choices reflect not just your own personal convictions, but the growing relationship between Max and her friends, peers and enemies. There's no more compelling pair in the game than Max and her best friend, Chloe, whose backstory intertwines with Max's and becomes the focus of some of Life is Strange's heaviest, most beautiful moments.
I didn't always love archetypal "rebel girl" Chloe, but I'm so thankful that Max's genuine friendship with her is at the game's center. Female friendship is so powerful, and it's something I want to see played out more in all media. This game passes the Bechdel test with ease, and the importance of that can't be overstated.
That friendship is deepened not just by the situations Max and Chloe are forced to go through together, but through little optional touches, too. That's where the game really shines. Getting to scroll through Max's text messages or poke around her friends' bookshelves makes Life is Strange's suburban Oregon setting feel that much more lived in, and adds some much-needed levity to a story that gets darker as it goes along.
