The Drifter begins and the titular homeless hero starts narrating his story, giving the feeling that this will only be a gritty, grounded drama. Here is a character carrying the weight of an unnamed trauma, unwittingly summoned home for his mother’s funeral, in what seems to be the beginning of an emotive character study. It won’t take long for things to change, as after a couple of minutes into his train ride, his fellow hobo passenger starts rambling weird stuff, only to then get shot (very thoroughly) from people that are definitely not train station guards. Thus begins an adrenaline-pumping thriller, where the protagonist tries to escape from ruthless folk who seem way too eager to cover up something important, only to then start battling hallucinations that come to life to hunt him. Oh, and he can now travel back in time whenever he dies.

From the moment Mick Carter starts running away, trying to find save haven in the family he once disappeared from, The Drifter makes an immediate impression with what can be described as fantastically deliberate 2D artwork. Powerhoof hasn’t wasted a single pixel or animation frame. Despite this embracing a somewhat low-res kind of look, the use of lighting elevates each location by creating the necessary contrast, with the slightly “wobbly” way lights animate bringing life to even the simplest of scenes. The atmosphere is also spot on. You don’t just see the grime and hostility of the cold streets, you feel the depression of walking through them. The realistic approach to it all comes with a trade-off as character designs are visually forgettable, leaning so far into the everyday that no one stands out much, yet it all balances out through the wallpaper-pretty backgrounds.
The genre The Drifter belongs to? Traditional point-and-click. It’s partly interactive graphic novel as well, especially in the first handful of chapters, in the sense that there’s a strong focus in almost constant forward momentum. Interactive hotspots automatically trigger the appropriate action without forcing the player to manually swap between verbs like LOOK, USE, or TALK, keeping the pace brisk, letting the one holding the mouse focus on the narrative. There’s frequently a sense of immediacy too. Certain scenes require somewhat quick reactions, and failure can lead to death. There’s a time rewind mechanic of sorts, so there’s no real failure, but it still manages to create tension. Of course, once it’s made abundantly clear that this never truly punishes mistakes, the anxiety fades, the stakes flatten and the mechanic shifts from thrilling to merely repetitive.

In terms of puzzle design it starts straightforward and intuitive, with The Drifter’s intentionally smooth pacing eliminating many of the genre’s usual frustrations, like the frequent need to do the dreaded “use everything on everything.” It’s accessible and frictionless, but perhaps too safe for those seeking intricate deduction. Halfway through the quest (about three hours in) it semi-ditches the speed it started with, feeling more like a typical adventure, as players will find themselves going back and forth between areas, trying to solve all sorts of problems. Challenge rises, and every now and then aggravation too, as trial-and-error, item-based puzzles are gradually introduced, which can occasionally be mildly illogical. Still, it remains relatively tame.
It’s crucial to understand that this mainly wants to tell a tale. In other words, the most important thing here is the plot, and how the whole thing is narrated. Sadly, this is where it loses its footing. Before analysing The Drifter’s storytelling, however, it’s important to mention what might very well be its most annoying part. The amount of voice acting (far more than is expected from an indie project) is impressive, and the delivery nothing short of professional. Mick’s devotion to constant narration, however, becomes annoying very fast. He simply can’t open a door, descend a staircase, or pick up a screwdriver without slipping into old-school noir-esque commentary. The game would really benefit from him shutting his hole and letting the visuals do the talking. It’s not like he uses the knowingly campy exaggeration of something like Max Payne. He plays it straight, occasionally making the barrage of internal monologues feel exhausting instead of stylish.

At the end of the day, the biggest disappointment is how the story and the characters that push it forward just aren’t that interesting. Oh, sure, the whole thing is far from bad, but it’s also a few steps behind great as well. What’s a shame is that it isn’t so in the beginning. Take the portrayal of Mick, for instance. Rather than a walking stereotype of a homeless person, players get a very human take on a man who ran away from life and its problems, and from then on has been tortured by guilt and regret. The crazy things that happen in the beginning of his journey also manage to put you on the edge of your seat, more than intrigued to find out what is going on. After the strong opening chapters, though, it will be easy to realise that The Drifter has started to run out of steam…
The closer the narrative drifts into predictable pulpy sci-fi territory (and not that neatly) it gets harder to care about anything, including Mick himself. It trades grounded paranoia and horror for broader, more imaginative subjects, but while the introduction of pulp isn’t a bad thing per se (in fact, pulp is awesome), the game isn’t very good at handling it. Additionally, characters that initially seem layered suddenly flatten out, and neither hero nor villain brings forth any emotion, positive or otherwise. To conclude, while it’s tough to be hard towards what is an obvious labour of love – and one that’s surely not a rushed job – it is simply not enough. If in need for a really great thrill served along some light puzzle solving, it would probably be better to go straight for The Excavation of Hob’s Barrow.






