I Am Fish

I Am Fish is a comedic action game where players control fish on a perilous journey to escape from various containers in a contemporary setting. Developed by Bossa Studios as part of the ‘I Am’ series, it features physics-based movement, challenging navigation, and humorous scenarios filled with death and absurdity.

I Am Fish: Review

Introduction: The Fin-tastic Frustration

In the landscape of video games, where narrative ambition often clashes with mechanical precision, I Am Fish emerges as a defiant, splashy anomaly. It is a game that asks you to empathize with the most fragile of protagonists—a fish in a bowl—and then systematically dismantles any illusion of control you might have over that fragile existence. From the developers at Bossa Studios, heirs to the throne of chaotic physics-based comedy forged by Surgeon Simulator and I Am Bread, comes a sequel that is both a natural evolution and a curious departure. It is a game that is frequently infuriating, occasionally transcendent, and consistently, unmistakably its own thing. This review argues that I Am Fish is a flawed masterpiece of deliberate design—a game whose core identity is built on a foundation of frustrating, physics-driven challenge that, when it coincidentally aligns with player intent, generates a unique and profound sense of triumph. Its legacy is not one of universal acclaim, but of cultish devotion and a stark reminder that “fun” in game design can be a complex, multi-layered emotion encompassing rage, laughter, and relief in equal measure.

Development History & Context: The Bossa Blueprint

To understand I Am Fish, one must first understand Bossa Studios and the lineage of “The I Am Series.” Founded in 2010, Bossa carved its niche with Surgeon Simulator (2013), a game celebrated for its intentionally awful, flailing controls that turned delicate surgery into a slapstick horror show. This philosophy—that profound difficulty arising from simple, poorly-realized physics could be a source of comedy and engagement—was refined in I Am Bread (2015). There, the player controlled a slice of bread attempting to toast itself, a premise so absurd it became a viral hit. I Am Fish (2021) is the direct sequel to I Am Bread in spirit and narrative, but a successor in scale to Surgeon Simulator 2 (2020) in technical ambition.

The game was built in Unity, with Wwise handling audio, and released for PC (Windows) and Xbox platforms on September 16, 2021, published by Curve Digital. The stated vision, per the Steam description, was to create a “charming, physics-based adventure” where players “swim, fly, roll and chomp” to freedom. The technological constraint was not a lack of power, but a self-imposed one: the physics engine must be consistent yet unforgiving. The camera, the inertia of containers, the precise timing of jumps from water—these were not bugs but features, meticulously designed to create a very specific, high-stakes experience. The gaming landscape of 2021 was saturated with accessible, player-friendly experiences. I Am Fish stood in deliberate contrast, an “anti-softcore” title that wore its difficulty as a badge of honor, appealing to a niche audience seeking a punishing, physics-driven puzzle-platformer with a wholesome coating.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive: The Bread That Started It All

The plot of I Am Fish is deceptively simple: four fish (a Goldfish, Pufferfish, Piranha, and Flying Fish) are separated from their pet store tank and must reunite and reach the ocean. However, the “why” and the “how” are where Bossa’s trademark absurdist world-building shines, directly tying into the Bread Gaming Universe (BGU) established in I Am Bread and Surgeon Simulator.

The inciting incident is the consumption of Sentient Bread. As detailed in TV Tropes and the Steam description, this special bread—the same from I Am Bread—grants animals human-like intelligence. This is the core thematic engine: an Uplifted Animal narrative where accidental consciousness leads to a bid for freedom. The fish are not heroes on a grand quest; they are confused, scared, and acting on primal instinct amplified by newfound smarts. Their journey is a Mike Nelson, Destroyer of Worlds scenario. They don’t intend to flood a hospital with blood (using the Piranha’s ability) or destroy a bakery and a city’s water mains; they are simply trying to get from point A to point B, and the human world is not built for aquatic escape. The destruction is a collateral byproduct of their desperate, fumbling navigation.

Character depth is conveyed almost entirely through gameplay and visual vignettes, as the fish are Silent Protagonists. The Goldfish is a classic brave explorer. The Pufferfish is “a little slow but kind-hearted.” The Piranha is “wild, chaotic, loud,” and loves to bite—a Carnivore Confusion example, as he shows no interest in eating his fish friends, instead preferring bread. The Flying Fish is “aloof… but a real softy.” Their personalities are defined by movement: the Piranha’s aggressive chomping, the Pufferfish’s bouncy, ponderous rolls, the Flying Fish’s tense, gliding leaps. The Shared Universe elements are more than easter eggs; they are integral lore. The Bobs (brain-dead human bodies from Surgeon Simulator) populate the hospital level, and the surgeon Nigel Burke appears as a final obstacle, fully voiced in a moment of Suddenly Voiced continuity. The sentient bread itself is the Applied Phlebotinum linking all three games, creating a ludicrous but internally consistent mythology where a loaf of bread is the progenitor of aquatic and surgical chaos. The ending, where a seagull eats the final piece of liberating bread, is a perfect Sequel Hook-turned-cynical punchline, suggesting the cycle of chaos is far from over.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems: The Gauntlet of Glass

At its core, I Am Fish is a physics-based puzzle-platformer where precision is paramount and the environment is a lethal obstacle course. The core gameplay loop for each of the four fish involves: 1) Navigating a confined, mobile “container” (bowl, bucket, bottle, etc.) through a hostile terrestrial environment, 2) Using the fish’s unique ability to solve environmental puzzles, and 3) Constantly managing a Super Drowning Skills timer—a depleting air meter visible as a darkening screen—forcing frequent plunges into any available water source.

Control & Physics Systems: This is the game’s defining, divisive feature. The default control scheme is “intuitive”—you push the stick to roll the container. However, momentum is king. Starting, stopping, and turning require careful anticipation. The Bossa-style controls, an optional mode, are the stuff of legend: you must physically wiggle the stick in a fish-tail motion to generate forward movement, a Frustration Simulator dialed to eleven. The physics apply to all containers, but each introduces unique challenges:
* Spherical Containers (Fishbowls): The baseline. They roll predictably but are fragile, shattering from falls or impacts.
* Cylindrical Bottles/Jars: The bane of many players. As noted in the Phenixx Gaming review, turning is a nightmare. Movement is restricted to forward/backward; to turn, you must push on the inner wall, causing the bottle to spin. At speed, this becomes a chaotic, uncontrollable spin. This is where many Cheap Deaths occur due to the unwieldy turning radius on narrow ledges.
* Mop Buckets: Have a handle that can snag on environment geometry.
* Pint Glass/Stomach: Goofy, unstable shapes that slosh and tilt dangerously.

Character Progression & Abilities: There is no traditional RPG progression. “Progression” is the player’s mastery of each fish’s ability and the level design that teaches its use.
* Goldfish: The learner. No special ability. Focuses on mastering container physics and checkpoint timing.
* Pufferfish: Can inflate into a ball (Puff Up), allowing for higher bounces and a defensive state. His levels often feature downhill slopes where he gains terrifying speed, requiring careful braking.
* Flying Fish: Can leap from water and glide using enlarged fins. This is governed by Unexpectedly Realistic Gameplay; controlling glide angle and distance is unintuitive. You nudge the fins to adjust pitch, then stop input to catch air currents. As the IGN review states, “Holding a direction… will, at best, result in a completely useless barrel roll.”
* Piranha: Can bite and destroy specific marked objects (planks, pipes, signs). This is used to flood areas, create new pathways, or destroy obstacles. His levels are often about causing chain reactions of destruction.

Level Design & Pacing: The game is split into 13 main levels (~10 hours), plus a bonus space level. Four are introductory (one per fish), four are “second acts,” and four are climactic “third acts,” culminating in a finale where all four fish cooperate in a shared container. The design philosophy is Benevolent Architecture—the path, while perilous, is usually there. Pools of water, pipes, and loose objects are placed to create a feasible route, but the player must discover it. This is supplemented by Nostalgia Level callbacks (I Am Bread‘s kitchen) and Shared Universe set-pieces (Nigel Burke’s operating room). The checkpoint system is a frequent point of critique. While generally fair, some long sections with complex multi-stage puzzles place checkpoints far apart, leading to massive progress loss after a death, especially frustrating when combined with the slow acceleration out of a checkpoint start.

Innovation & Flaws: The innovative synthesis of narrative (fish friendship) with pure, brutal physics-puzzle design is its strength. However, the flaws are systemic:
1. Camera Issues: The camera can be uncooperative, especially in tight spaces or during the Flying Fish’s glides, obscuring crucial jumps (cited by IGN and Phenixx Gaming).
2. AI Companion Problems: In co-op narrative moments (like the final aquarium breakout), a second AI-controlled fish can follow you into hazards, causing Stupidity Is the Only Option-style interference and cheap deaths.
3. Container-Specific Friction: As analyzed, the bottle’s turning is widely considered poorly balanced against its frequent use in precision platforming sections.
4. Inconsistency: The Phenixx review notes moments where getting caught in a plastic cup sometimes kills you instantly and other times lets you struggle free for a minute, indicating unclear failure states.

The skip to next checkpoint feature is a crucial accessibility concession, acknowledging that some sections might be fundamentally un-fun for certain players. The Iron Fish Mode (no checkpoints) and Bossa Style controls cater to the masochistic core audience, completing a suite of difficulty options that paradoxically make the default experience more palatable by comparison.

World-Building, Art & Sound: The Pixar Prison

Visually, I Am Fish is a triumph. The art direction achieves a stunning balance between cartoony character design and almost photorealistic environments. The fish themselves are expressive despite being non-anthropomorphic—their big eyes and simple animations convey emotion. The environments of Barnardshire (the “smallest county in England”) are a greatest hits of British pastoral and urban decay: sunny coastal towns, rainy city streets, cluttered kitchens, grimy sewers, and a surreal hospital. The lighting is repeatedly praised (IGN, Phenixx Gaming) as the element that sells the realism—sunbeams through trees, headlights on wet pavement, fluorescent hospital glare—all making the vibrant, cartoony fish pop just enough to feel out of place, selling the “fish-out-of-water” concept literally.

The sound design is equally impressive. Water sounds are varied and realistic (bubbles, splashes, gurgles). The soundtrack, composed per the Steam description, is boppy and character-themed: upbeat electronic for Goldfish, jaunty and frantic for Pufferfish, tension-filled for Piranha’s horror-lite sections. It never becomes grating, a feat for a game that can cause players to repeat sections for dozens of attempts.

Where the world-building excels is in its diegetic humor and detail. The Weirdness Censor is a running gag—humans ignore a fish rolling a mop bucket through a nightclub or a piranha chewing through a bathroom sink. The Benevolent Architecture is part of the joke: perfectly round fishbowls are always lying around. The level where the Pufferfish is swallowed by a drunk man and must make him stagger to a bathroom (Stomach of the Drunk) is a peak of grotesque, hilarious level design. The Atmosphere constantly shifts from idyllic (coastal fields) to claustrophobic (bottles, sewers) to chaotic (hospital flood), mirroring the fish’s escalating desperation.

Reception & Legacy: A Cult Confection

At launch, I Am Fish received mixed-to-average critical reviews. The Metacritic scores range from 68 (Xbox Series X) to 69 (PC). Critic averages on MobyGames sit at a low 59%. The consensus, reflected in the aggregated reviews, praises its charm, creativity, and visual splendor while universally criticizing its often-frustrating physics, camera, and checkpointing. IGN (7/10) called it “hilarious and masochistic.” PC Invasion (8.5/10) hailed it as a “bold step forward.” Phenixx Gaming (5/10) starkly concluded it “just isn’t fun.” Rock Paper Shotgun captured the essence, noting it’s “immediately fun and frustrating and fishy.”

Player reception, however, tells a more complex story. On Steam, it holds a “Mostly Positive” (74/100) rating from over 3,400 reviews. On Metacritic, the user score is a 6.9/10. This discrepancy suggests a “love-it-or-hate-it” dynamic where the players who engage with its punishing systems find a rewarding, charming experience, while others bounce off the frustration. The Reddit review thread shows this split clearly, with users praising its creativity and depth while lamenting the Flying Fish controls and bottle sections.

Its legacy is firmly rooted as the third pillar in Bossa Studios’ “I Am” brand. It solidifies the BGU as a quirky, self-contained continuity. Within the physics-platformer genre, it sits alongside Human: Fall Flat and Gang Beasts as a title where the comedy emerges from the struggle against the engine, but it is more puzzle-focused and less multiplayer-oriented. It did not achieve the mainstream meme-status of I Am Bread or Surgeon Simulator, but it has found a dedicated audience. Its influence is likely to be seen in future indie titles that embrace “style-over-smoothness” and use frustrating mechanics as a core thematic element (e.g., the feeling of being a helpless fish). The charitable partnership with Whale and Dolphin Conservation (WDC), donating a portion of sales, adds a layer of genuine goodwill to its absurdist premise.

Conclusion: A Beautiful, Broken Bowl

I Am Fish is not a game for everyone. It is an exercise in patience, a digital stress-test disguised as a children’s story. Its genius lies in its unwavering commitment to a single, brutal idea: that being a fish out of water should feel hopelessly, hilariously difficult. When the physics align—when a pufferfish’s bounce lands perfectly on a narrow ledge, when a piranha’s bite creates the exact floodgate needed, when a flying fish’s glide catches the perfect thermal—the resultant surge of accomplishment is unparalleled. It is the joy of solving a puzzle where the pieces are made of slippery, fragile glass.

However, this design philosophy is a double-edged sword. The moments where the physics betray you, where the camera fails, where a checkpoint sends you reeling back minutes of careful work, are not just frustrating; they can feel fundamentally unfair. This creates the pronounced love-hate relationship documented in reviews. The game’s charm—its Pixar-esque visuals, its witty world-building, its surprisingly coherent lore—constantly battles with its mechanical hostility.

In the grand tapestry of video game history, I Am Fish is a fascinating footnote and a bold statement. It is the culmination of Bossa Studios’ “comedy through control malfunction” ethos, applied to a more ambitious, narrative-driven scale than ever before. It proves that a game can be both stunningly beautiful and profoundly irritating, that player engagement can stem from overcoming a system that actively works against you. It is a cult classic in the making—a game that will be remembered not for its sales or its perfect scores, but for the stories players tell about the time they finally beat the bottle section, or the seagull stealth level, or the hospital blood flood. It is a game that asks you to feel the desperate, flopping helplessness of a fish, and in doing so, makes the eventual plunge into the digital ocean feel like a hard-earned, triumphant homecoming. For those with the stomach for its particular brand of watery torture, I Am Fish is an experience unlike any other.