Area Man Lives review: kookily inventive and radio play-esque

In Area Man Lives, we play a small town radio DJ with a listener who’s beyond obsessed: they’re convinced, in fact, the station is sending out signals directing them to perform particular tasks at particular times. Always a few fruitcakes in the audience, right? “I’m on a mission to prevent a catastrophe,” the character called “Area Man” declares at one point, having driven to the station in desperation after transmission goes down. 

“Your radio station has been telling me where to go,” he adds, “but now all I’m getting is just this static.” The crazy man’s claims sound like poppycock, of course—until it’s proven beyond doubt that the actions you take in the station determine whether he lives or dies. This is the fun and trippy premise of a game that’s not just set in a radio station, but reminiscent of a radio play, with lots of dialogue and well-written monologues.

The experence begins with us performing a range of small tasks and acquainting ourselves with the central location—a squarish area inside the station, spatially similar to the office cubicle in Job Simulator, the control booth in Five Nights at Freddy’s, and the broadcast desk in Not for Broadcast. In each of these examples, the virtual space is similar dimension-wise to our physical world space: a concentrated playing area where the drama comes to us. In Area Man Lives, like in Killer Frequency—another VR game set in a radio station—that drama is often divulged by audio, which of course is entirely germane to the central setting. 

Radio host duties include playing the news, taking calls, and recording and broadcasting commercials. Activating the latest news bulletin is achieved simply by pressing a button on a machine. But the calls and commercials involve an input process that, at the time of the release, scores Area Man Lives some points for novelty and innovation: the headset microphone captures our voice, and the words we speak appear as text in a speech bubble.

These visualizations turn our words into aesthetic embellishments, transforming “natural” input into artifice that’s non-diegetic—meaning, not natural to the world the characters inhabit. If the process only occurred during these moments it would stick out, but every character who speaks also has their dialogue rendered in this way, feeding into a cartoon style look. Those other characters, by the way, have strong presences despite being seen but never heard—including your producer and, in an odd touch, a female British narrator who provides literary-like running commentary (like: “late night, in a town that goes to bed early, one DJ sits alone in a seaside radio station…”).

The central premise—hinged on your actions directly influencing the life (or death) of Area Man—implies a heightened degree of agency, the choices you make dramatically affecting the destiny or fate of another. However this is an on-the-rails experience, with limited narrative options and clear pathways leading to predetermined outcomes. 

Hats off to writer Amy Noel Green (who also co-directed the experience with Ryan Green) for a kookily inventive script, full of idiosyncratic details. Unlike most games, this is an audio-centric production dependant on words and the performative aspects that bring them to life—i.e. strong vocal performances from a cast including Max Greenfield (as Area Man), Ronan Farrow (as a news reporter) and Linda Joy (as the narrator).

The gameplay is limited and sometimes frustrating, the puzzles and tasks often lacking logic, resulting in me trying everything to see what works—and a couple of times feeling so stuck and annoyed I checked a playthrough video. Most of the time, however, Area Man Lives is an enjoyable experience, with a flair for evoking language that feels effortless and free-flowing.