For my Critical Play this week, I chose to play Cube Escape: Paradox. This game is a point and click style mystery game/escape room created by Rusty Lake, and although I played it on my Mac, it is also available on PC, Android, and other iOS devices. It’s target audience is most definitely people who enjoy a good escape room that comes with a backstory, people who love interactive storytelling.
In Cube Escape: Paradox, the player steps into the shoes of detective Dale Vandermeer, who awakens in a strange, locked room with no memory of who he is or why he’s there. This premise is one that is incredibly familiar to us all I’m sure, but this game in particular is wonderful at ensuring that the narrative is inseparably tied to the mechanics and architecture. The game doesn’t tell a story explicitly, similar to an escape room in real life it requires you to uncover one through interaction with the seemingly very basic elements of the game. The mystery unfolds not just through plot points or dialogue, but through the structure of the room itself, the manipulation of objects, and the puzzles you solve with the knowledge you gain throughout the play.
From the beginning, the various rooms act not just as a setting, but also in a way as a narrator. Every object serves a purpose in the story, is a container of memories, fragmented symbols, or puzzles you must solve. As players explore the walls, drawers, clocks, paintings, and mirrors, they uncover pieces of Dale’s identity and past. For example, a mirror reveals a distorted version of the room that shifts based on previous actions. The first instance of this was when my character said he was cold and I put a coat on him. The room then distorted in the mirror and a ghost (who we later discover is the murder victim he was investigating the case of) appeared in the mirror. After I was told to check the lights, where a new puzzle piece had appeared (The puzzle being a picture of the two of them shown above). This in my opinion is an exceptionally clever mechanic that blurs the boundary between memory and reality. The mirror room introduces alternate logic, requiring players to rethink whether or not this character they’re playing as, this space that they’re in, is reliable. Every interaction affects the story.
One standout design choice to me as well is its integration of a live-action short film, viewable alongside the game. Certain in-game puzzles are nearly impossible to solve without watching key moments from the film, creating a fascinating and deeply story-based experience. The film shows Dale navigating the same room in real life, and the player must translate cinematic details into in-game action. This mechanic elevates the mystery, now players aren’t just solving puzzles, they’re decoding a larger narrative scattered across two different medias. And while I appreciate the innovation and I think it is a phenomenal idea, this also poses a challenge. Some puzzles feel arbitrarily obscure and incredibly challenging if players miss a detail in the film, which can be frustrating without any sort of embedded hint system. Although maybe that’s just me, I don’t do escape rooms often after all.
The mechanics in Paradox align tightly with its emotional and narrative goals. Analyzing through the MDA framework, the game’s mechanics (point-and-click, item combination, exploration) create dynamics of tension, trial-and-error, admittedly some frustration, and slow realization as the narrative unfolds before you. This drives an aesthetic experience of psychological unease, underscored by atmospheric sound design and eerie, painterly visuals. Most notable being a strange painting in one of the rooms that despite there being a screen, you cannot cover it (shown above). This image also happens to contain a blue vial that is mentioned in the narrative, so even things that serve a narrative purpose often serve an aesthetic one as well.
Despite its thematic strengths, Paradox falls short on designing for accessibility. There are no options for players with visual impairments, and many puzzles rely on color distinctions or precise visual recognition. Players with dyslexia or cognitive processing differences may find the game overwhelming due to its lack of narration or guidance. It lacks some of the most basic accessibility features really, audio cues, simplified puzzle modes, consistent captions. The game’s design ironically traps not just the protagonist, but any player who doesn’t interface with it in the way it expects. Given its focus on psychological fragmentation and recovery, there’s a missed opportunity to design with inclusion in mind. A hint toggle, customizable visual options, and narration options would go a long way in opening the experience to more players.
