Level 22: Gary’s Misadventure

Level 22: Gary’s Misadventure is a comedic stealth action game set in a contemporary office environment, featuring diagonal-down 2D scrolling visuals where players control the hapless protagonist Gary through quirky levels filled with humorous obstacles and detection-avoidance challenges.

Level 22: Gary’s Misadventure: Review

Introduction

Imagine the high-stakes tension of Metal Gear Solid or Hitman, but instead of infiltrating a shadowy military base or assassinating a target, you’re a hungover office drone desperately sneaking past coffee-fueled colleagues and donut-loving security guards to reach your cubicle before the boss notices. Level 22: Gary’s Misadventure (2013), the debut title from French indie studio Noego, transforms the mundane drudgery of corporate life into a riotously absurd stealth-comedy masterpiece. Released initially on iOS amid the mobile gaming boom, it later proliferated across 13 platforms in its polished “2016 Edition,” cementing its status as a quirky cult artifact. This review argues that Level 22 endures not despite its mobile roots and technical imperfections, but because of them—delivering a biting satire of 90s office culture, ingenious puzzle-stealth gameplay, and infectious humor that punches above its weight in video game history.

Development History & Context

Noego, a small French team led by CEO Vincent Percevault (credited on over 119 games), crafted Level 22 as a mobile-first experiment in stealth gameplay, launching on iPhone on October 3, 2013, followed swiftly by Android and iPad. The core team was lean: 34 credits including bug programmer Régis Leboeuf, game designer Raphaël Sautron (playfully titled “once grown up”), artists like Thibault Jaouen and Philippe Salib, audio leads Fabien Bourbigot and Michèle Kopff, and composer Yann Van der Cruyssen. Built on Unity—a then-emerging engine ideal for cross-platform indie ports—the game reflected the era’s technological constraints: touch-optimized controls prioritized simplicity over precision, with diagonal-down 2D scrolling suiting low-poly sprites and modest hardware like iOS devices requiring only a 2.0 GHz CPU, 1 GB RAM, and 128 MB VRAM.

The 2013 gaming landscape was dominated by AAA stealth epics like Dishonored and Metal Gear Rising, but indies were carving niches in mobile humor via titles like Monument Valley. Noego’s vision, per official blurbs and Hardcore Gaming 101 analysis, was audacious: the “first stealth game set in the merciless world of work,” satirizing American office tropes (Office Space, Dilbert) from a European lens. Post-launch, Noego shuttered in 2015, pulling the game from Steam; Moving Player SAS and Plug In Digital revived it as the 2016 Edition for Wii U, Xbox One, PS3/4/Vita, PC, and Mac. This re-release addressed some mobile-era glitches but retained its raw charm, thriving in an indie renaissance favoring short, thematic experiences amid free-to-play saturation.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

At its core, Level 22 is a revenge fantasy for every soul-crushed cubicle warrior. Protagonist Gary, a relatable everyman with a penchant for post-birthday benders, awakens late—again—facing termination after repeated warnings. His 22-floor odyssey through a dystopian skyscraper, guided by slacker ex-employee Marty via phone, escalates from basement incinerator pits to the CEO’s lair, blending Office Space‘s banal absurdity with sci-fi excess: document-shredding monsters, lightsaber-wielding androids, and radiation labs evoke a corporate Futurama.

Gary embodies the superego fraying under id-driven chaos; initially hesitant (“Should I really poison the guards?”), he gleefully embraces Marty’s anarchic schemes—laxative-laced donuts, book-smashing HR reps—mirroring the player’s descent into gleeful sabotage. Marty’s snarky dialogue (“Smash his head with the book—multiple times!”) serves as devilish narration, riffing on stealth tropes (cardboard box nods to Metal Gear) while lampooning workaholism: bosses spy via omnipresent cameras, patrols mimic vision cones, and collectibles like Marty’s action figures parody nerd escapism.

Themes dissect capitalist grind: the office as panopticon prison, where “productivity” masks evil (radioactive waste in break rooms), and rebellion is petty but cathartic. Dialogue sparkles with wit—Gary’s deadpan panic contrasts Marty’s id-fueled glee—culminating in boss confrontations that “settle the score.” Though linear (no branches), the narrative’s brevity (4-6 hours) amplifies its punch, evolving from survival to gleeful insurrection, a comedic idyll on alienation in late-capitalism.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

Level 22‘s core loop is puzzle-stealth distilled: point-and-click (tap on mobile/console) to direct Gary in a top-down isometric view, avoiding instant-restart detection cones from guards, janitors, and execs. Levels are mazes demanding trial-and-error—hug walls, hide in vents/lockers/newspapers, exploit blind spots—escalating via conveyor belts, dynamic patrols, and multi-phase puzzles. Innovation shines in items: distractions (donuts lure guards), camouflages (cardboard box), and sabotage (poisoned treats grant “superpowers” before KO, vending machine kicks create noise, photocopier traps, radiation exposure). UI is minimalist—top-right inventory radial menu, camera panning for scouting—suited to touch but clunky on keyboard (non-remappable, per PCGamingWiki).

Progression is linear across four acts (basement, offices, R&D, executive floors), punctuated by bosses requiring mechanic combos: evade golf-cart security chiefs, exploit environmental tricks against mutants. Checkpoints mitigate frustration, fostering “aha!” mastery over rage-quits. Flaws persist—glitches (stuck animations), imprecise pathing (far clicks cause straight-line blunders), controller superiority over KB/M—but innovations like humorous brutality (laxatives induce cartoonish trots) and secrets (safes with codes for boss art, hidden figures) add replayability. Steam guides highlight safe-cracking (e.g., visual puzzles), extending play to 10+ hours for completionists. It’s “sadistic old-school” (Hardcore Gaming 101), channeling Ninja Gaiden brutality in bite-sized doses.

World-Building, Art & Sound

The skyscraper’s zany universe amplifies satire: fluorescent-lit cubicles hide horrors—basement beasts torch evidence, R&D spawns laser sentries—building a lived-in, oppressive atmosphere where everyday objects weaponize tedium. Visuals evoke SNES nostalgia: vibrant 2D sprites, parallax-scrolling backgrounds blend Fox Animation (Futurama-esque exaggeration) with low-budget anime flair. Gary and Marty’s cartoonish designs pop, menus mimic lively dialog boxes, fostering 90s prime-time comedy vibes.

Sound design elevates immersion: Fabien Bourbigot and Michèle Kopff’s effects—squishy donut munching, laxative gurgles, book-thwacks—punctuate stealth tension with slapstick glee. Yann Van der Cruyssen’s soundtrack apes a lost Dilbert adaptation: jaunty synths underscore absurdity, tense stings heighten chases. Together, they craft a cohesive, atmospheric romp—colorful yet claustrophobic, hilarious yet harrowing—immersing players in corporate hell’s fever dream.

Reception & Legacy

Launch reception was modestly positive but sparse: MobyGames aggregates 70% critics (Nintendo Life: 7/10, praising quirkiness despite “clunky controls/glitches”), player scores 4.6/5 (one rating). OpenCritic tallies mixed (64/100, 25th percentile): highs like ZTGD (7.5/10, “light-hearted relief”), We Got This Covered (“delightful twist”), Nintendo Enthusiast (8/10, “loaded with charm”); lows from Cubed3 (3-5/10, “not fun,” “cumbersome”). Steam: Mixed (63 reviews), lauding humor/accessibility, docking repetition/controls.

Commercially niche ($0.69-$6.99, GOG/Steam sales), it sold steadily via ports, free PS+ August 2017 boosting visibility. Legacy evolved post-Noego closure: 2016 Edition ensured survival, influencing office-themed indies (Papers, Please echoes, micro-satires). No direct sequels, but its Metal Gear parody endures in stealth discourse; collector appeal (33-34 MobyGames collectors) and guides (Steam safe codes) affirm cult status. In history, it exemplifies mobile-to-multiplatform success, proving indie satire’s potency amid AAA dominance.

Conclusion

Level 22: Gary’s Misadventure is a gem of concise brilliance: sharp office satire, puzzle-clever stealth, nostalgic charm, and laugh-out-loud mechanics outweigh clunky controls and brevity. From Noego’s scrappy origins to cross-platform revival, it captures 2010s indiedom’s spirit—accessible rebellion in a grindy world. Verdict: 8/10. Essential for stealth fans craving humor, a historical footnote for its prescient corporate takedown, and a reminder that sometimes, the best games are the ones that let you stick it to the boss—literally. Play it, laugh, and never be late again.