Obex: a retro-horror game that haunts the mind

Imagine David Lynch channeling 1980s home computing. That’s the unsettling vision of Obex, a new film from director Albert Birney that’s as captivating as it is deeply strange. The film, arriving on digital platforms March 9th, plunges viewers into a black-and-white analogue world of ASCII art, VHS stacks, and a creeping sense of digital dread.

Computer conor's descent into virtuality

Birney stars as Computer Conor, a recluse who earns a living crafting ASCII portraits and indulges in a bizarre ritual of watching multiple VHS tapes simultaneously. His isolated existence is disrupted by Obex, a mail-order sword-and-sorcery video game promising avatar customization. The initial disappointment Conor feels quickly morphs into something far more sinister when his printer inexplicably commands him to “Remove your skin.” From there, the game's demonic entity, Ixaroth, enters his apartment and kidnaps his dog, Sandy.

The first half of Obex evokes the atmosphere of David Lynch’s Eraserhead. Birney masterfully builds tension with disorienting camera angles, a deliberately slow pace, and a jarring soundscape composed by Josh Dibb of Animal Collective. But the film undergoes a shift when Conor dons a Zelda-esque cap and enters the game's portal. The narrative then embraces a pastiche of silent film picaresque, reminiscent of Guy Maddin's work, with Mary, the unseen grocery delivery girl, transformed into a power-up vendor.

While undeniably inventive and strangely entertaining, Obex may flirt more with fan service than profound commentary. The quest resolution feels conventional, a direct consequence of Conor’s childhood trauma and a cautionary tale about escaping into virtual realities. Yet, the film's DIY aesthetic and unsettling imagery resonate deeply. The film’s 8-bit junkyard aesthetic will appeal to both retro enthusiasts and younger audiences discovering a new kind of nostalgia.

The film’s success lies not in grand pronouncements but in its visceral, unsettling atmosphere. Obex doesn't offer answers; it offers a glimpse into a digital subconscious, a place where the lines between reality and simulation blur with chilling effect.