When the original Life Is Strange debuted in 2015, it was a revelation – a poignant, choice-driven adventure game anchored by the authentic relationship between teenage protagonist Max Caulfield and her rebellious friend Chloe. The supernatural time-rewinding mechanics took a backseat to their intense, evolving bond. Nearly a decade later, the franchise returns with Life Is Strange: Double Exposure, an ambitious sequel that expands Max’s powers while stumbling under the weight of its own branching timelines.
A Tale of Two Realities
Now in her mid-twenties, Max is an artist-in-residence at the prestigious Caledon College of the Arts. Straddling the line between the cliquey student body and the frequently petty faculty, she tentatively builds new friendships while grappling with the fallout of her fateful choice at the end of the first game. When a shocking murder rocks the campus, Max discovers she can now hop between two divergent timelines – one where the victim lives, and one where they die.
It’s a clever evolution of Life Is Strange’s signature mechanic, but Double Exposure doesn’t quite stick the landing in exploring its potential. The best moments are the smaller, intimate ones: heart-to-hearts with classmates, a charming first date with a bartender, inside jokes with her photography students. The writing shines in these grounded scenarios, capturing the little twists of phrase and gestures that make the characters feel like real, imperfect people struggling to connect.
Uneven Threads
Unfortunately, the overarching murder mystery doesn’t hold together nearly as well. Key characters behave erratically to suit unwieldy plot machinations, their relationships and personalities in constant flux as Max skips across realities. I actively tried to spite one ally by taking every opportunity to undermine them; they still showed up chipper and ready to help when the story required it.
“Some characters shine with consistent, nuanced portrayals… Others swerve from one note to another.”
The depiction of grief also feels strangely hollow for such a focal theme. A student whose girlfriend was murdered mere hours ago jarringly jumps to theorizing about alternate timelines. Max herself, still haunted by the loss of Chloe or her hometown depending on your original ending choice, doesn’t seem to really grapple with that lasting trauma beyond a few token journal entries.
Piecing Together the Clues
The investigative gameplay fares better, having you scour detailed environments for leads and cleverly use your timeline-hopping to bypass obstacles. Chatting up witnesses in one reality might give you the information to open new paths in another. I loved the thrill of the “eureka” moments when disparate pieces clicked together.
But even these small victories are dampened by technical issues. Playing on Xbox Series X, I hit several progress-halting bugs that forced a checkpoint reload. One crucial conversation kept looping no matter which options I selected until the game hard crashed. Thankfully, the generous autosave system prevented me from losing much progress, but it was jarring to be yanked out of the experience so often.
Frames of the Past
Caledon itself is vividly realized, from the cluttered dorm rooms plastered with gig posters to the golden-houred woods behind the library. There’s a lived-in quality to every space that grounds the more surreal events in tangible places. The returning voice cast also does an admirable job, particularly original Max actress Hannah Telle, who brings new shades of weariness and hope to her performance.
I just wish the story lived up to that impressive backdrop more consistently. Two especially strong end-of-chapter cliffhangers had me itching to see the fallout, only to be deflated by the muddled payoff waiting in the subsequent episodes. And while the final revelations do pack some provocative punches, they lean hard into the sci-fi metaphysics rather than the character-first approach that made the debut Life Is Strange so compelling.
Exposure Compensation
There’s still a lot to like for fans of the series, and that core relationship between Max and Chloe – whether you interpret it as friends, lovers, or something in between – remains a narrative anchor even when the plot spins out. I’m also intrigued by the implications of the ending, which takes Max’s time travel abilities in an ambitious new direction while keeping one foot planted in her messy, utterly human past.
Judged on its own merits, Life Is Strange: Double Exposure is an uneven but sporadically brilliant adventure elevated by its earnest characters and inventive structure. As a sequel to a beloved genre trendsetter, it can’t help but pale in comparison, its reach exceeding its grasp in a way that feels all too familiarly mortal. In a series so defined by choice and consequence, this is one timeline I’m glad I experienced – fractured plot holes and all.
Score: 3.5/5
