- Release Year: 2024
- Platforms: Linux, Macintosh, Windows
- Publisher: Dionous Games
- Developer: Made from Strings
- Genre: Adventure
- Perspective: First-person
- Game Mode: Single-player
- Gameplay: Graphic adventure, Point and select, Puzzle elements
- Setting: Futuristic, Sci-fi
- Average Score: 61/100
Description
Murder on Space Station 52 is a first-person graphic adventure game set aboard a futuristic space station. Players step into the shoes of a detective tasked with solving a murder mystery using traditional point-and-click mechanics, inventory puzzles, and exploration. The game blends a classic detective noir narrative with a unique sci-fi setting, featuring a story-driven experience with voice acting and challenging, sometimes unconventional, puzzles.
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Reviews & Reception
adventuregamehotspot.com : An unusual but stellar blend of traditional future-noir detective investigation and intriguing sci-fi setting
metacritic.com (83/100): Murder on Space Station 52 combines a fun but fairly traditional detective noir story with an intriguing sci-fi setting that’s totally out of this world.
thegamer.com (60/100): If you can get past Edward’s cumbersome quips, the story of Murder on Space Station 52 is worth checking out.
intoindiegames.com (40/100): The abrupt and out-of-place ending colored my opinion on this game so much that I have to remind myself that I actually did enjoy this game for the most part!
churapereviews.com : Ultimately, the game is fine and I enjoyed my time with it, but it isn’t going to be for everyone.
Murder on Space Station 52: Review
In the vast, often predictable cosmos of indie gaming, a title that dares to fuse the hard-boiled cadence of detective noir with the surreal, ink-washed aesthetics of a cosmic nightmare is a rare celestial event. Murder on Space Station 52, the solo-developed passion project of Christopher Mathes under the banner Made From Strings, is precisely such an event. Released in September 2024, this point-and-click adventure is a game of stark contrasts: it is both charmingly anachronistic and frustratingly obtuse, a hand-drawn labor of love that soars on artistic ambition but occasionally stumbles over its own narrative and mechanical feet. It is a title that demands to be remembered, even if the memory is a complex one.
Introduction: A Noir Echo in the Void
The legacy of the point-and-click adventure is long and storied, from the slapstick sci-fi of Space Quest to the gritty intrigue of Blade Runner. Murder on Space Station 52 plants its flag firmly at the intersection of these traditions, pitching players into a whodunit where the suspects are more likely to have tentacles than trench coats. Its thesis is simple yet bold: to prove that a deeply personal, artistically driven vision can reinvigorate a classic genre. The game hooks you not with graphical fidelity, but with pure, unadulterated style—a bluesy soundtrack, a protagonist who talks like he’s stepped out of a 1940s radio drama, and a world that feels like a sketchbook brought to life. It is an experiment in tone, and for better or worse, it is an experiment that leaves a lasting impression.
Development History & Context: A Solo Voyage
Murder on Space Station 52 is a testament to the modern indie development scene, where a single visionary can craft an entire universe. Christopher Mathes is not just the developer; he is the game’s writer, artist, composer, and the primary voice actor for its protagonist, Edward Locke, and most of its alien cast. This singular authorship is the game’s defining characteristic, imbuing every pixel and line of dialogue with a cohesive, if idiosyncratic, personality.
Released in a landscape saturated with high-budget, open-world epics and frenetic live-service games, Space Station 52 is a deliberate anachronism. It harks back to an era of gaming where cerebral puzzle-solving and narrative were paramount. Published by Dionous Games, the project was a “labour of love,” as Mathes described it, developed over several years. The technological constraints of a solo project are evident—the animation is often limited to fades and glides, and the voice recording quality varies—but Mathes consistently uses these limitations to his advantage, crafting an aesthetic that feels intentionally rough-hewn and dreamlike rather than cheap. The game’s development diaries reveal an artist deeply invested in his craft, drawing inspiration from Agatha Christie’s plotting, film noir’s atmosphere, and the bizarre creature designs of Tim Burton and Star Wars cantinas.
Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive: The Keychain Killer’s Conundrum
The plot follows Edward Locke, a mechanical engineer who arrives on the titular space station to replace a missing repairman, only to discover his predecessor’s body gruesomely displayed with a key embedded in his forehead—the signature of the elusive “Keychain Killer.” With the local authorities seemingly indifferent, Edward takes it upon himself to solve the crime.
The narrative structure is classic detective fare, divided into nine chapters where players collect evidence, interrogate a cast of bizarre suspects, and fill out a digital “murder board.” However, the narrative execution is the game’s most contentious element. The initial hook is strong, but as noted by players and critics alike, the story often feels like it “ambles along with no real purpose.” Edward’s motivation for becoming an investigator is flimsy; he is neither a suspect nor has any connection to the victim. This lack of personal stake undermines the narrative tension. Characters are introduced as suspects with little justification—a reporter is deemed suspicious simply for being shadowy, a sheriff is either complicit or incompetent for declaring a key-in-the-forehead death an accident.
The dialogue is a double-edged sword. Edward’s narration is delivered in a continuous stream of hard-boiled similes and sarcastic quips. While initially charming, this relentless snark grows tiresome, as noted by TheGamer’s reviewer who found it “unhelpful and annoying” during protracted puzzle-solving. The supporting cast, voiced largely by Mathes using a range of vocal filters, is undeniably creative—from a Gollum-like sheriff to a slimy, tentacled dockmaster—but the heavy effects can make some dialogue difficult to decipher without subtitles.
Thematically, the game flirts with ideas of identity and discovery in a strange new world, but its most significant failing, according to a scathing review from Into Indie Games, is its conclusion. The review claims the ending involves “the equivalent of narrative defenestration,” with bizarre twists that feel unearned and abrupt, leaving the player with a sense of disappointment that sours an otherwise engaging mystery. This critique highlights a fundamental risk in noir storytelling: the resolution must be satisfying, and for many, Space Station 52’s finale fails to stick the landing.
Gameplay Mechanics & Systems: Classic Adventure with Modern Quirks
At its core, Murder on Space Station 52 is a traditional point-and-click adventure. Players use a mouse to explore environments, pick up items, combine them in an inventory, and solve puzzles to progress. The UI is simple: left-click to interact, right-click to examine. A highlight system helpfully distinguishes interactive objects from background art, a quality-of-life feature appreciated in the genre.
The puzzles are a mixed bag, representing the game’s highest highs and lowest lows. Many are intuitive and satisfying, requiring a logical, MacGyver-esque approach to using found objects. Repairing a joke-telling mechanical doctor or concocting sleep gas are highlights that feel perfectly integrated into the world. However, the game is notorious for its lack of a hint system, and several puzzles veer into the convoluted. The fuse box puzzle in the doctor’s office, frequently cited by players, is a prime example: its solution is unintuitive, with vague instructions and a submission mechanic that doesn’t align with player expectations. This can lead to frustration and reliance on external guides.
More critically, the game contains instances of potential soft-locking. One player detailed a scenario where they became stuck during a sequence requiring them to distract a sea creature by throwing fish. Due to a specific sequence of actions, the game prevented them from backtracking, forcing a reload and the loss of progress. Another reported bug involved items refusing to combine until attempted in a specific, untelegraphed order. These issues point to a need for more rigorous testing and polish.
A unique but underutilized feature is the “apartment” system. By examining objects (earning “moxies” or “doodads”), players can purchase cosmetic items for Edward’s off-screen living quarters and aquarium. While a nice incentive for exploration, this feature feels disconnected from the main game, as the apartment is only accessible through a menu and never serves as a narrative hub, making it feel like a “pointless” diversion.
World-Building, Art & Sound: Where the Game Truly Shines
If the narrative and puzzles are uneven, the game’s aesthetic presentation is an unequivocal triumph. This is where Mathes’s singular vision pays off spectacularly. The hand-drawn art style is breathtakingly unique. It is sketchy, washed-out, and proudly displays its brush strokes, creating a world that feels like a living illustration. The influence of Art Deco is evident in the architecture, while the creature and character designs are wildly imaginative, blending biopunk, steampunk, and pure fantasy into a cohesive whole. The station itself is less a sterile orbital habitat and more a surreal, open-world landscape complete with docks, islands, a lighthouse, and wind turbines, giving it a sense of scale and mystery that defies its 2D constraints.
The sound design is equally masterful. The original, blues-inspired soundtrack is a character in itself, evoking the smoky atmosphere of a jazz club in deep space. It’s a bold choice that works remarkably well, enhancing the noir vibe without feeling out of place. The voice acting, while variable in recording quality, is full of character. Mathes’s performance as Edward is committed and fittingly world-weary, and his ability to voice a menagerie of aliens with distinct personalities is impressive. The decision to lower ambient sounds and music during conversations was a misstep, noted as “immersion-breaking,” but it’s a minor flaw in an otherwise superb audio-visual package.
Reception & Legacy: A Divisive Debut
Upon release, Murder on Space Station 52 received a mixed but generally positive critical reception, averaging a 72% score from professional critics. Outlets praised its style and creativity: Adventure Game Hotspot (83%) celebrated its “stellar blend of traditional future-noir,” while Gameluster (70%) called it “quirky [and] unique… a game that looks and sounds like no other.” The common points of praise were the art, sound, and inventive world-building.
The criticisms were equally consistent. TheGamer (60%) and player reviews highlighted the frustrating puzzles, Edward’s exhausting quips, and the narrative’s lack of direction. The player review from “Kilrathi lord” on Steam perfectly encapsulates this divide, praising the puzzle design and atmosphere while lamenting the “rushed” script and unclear character motivations.
Its legacy, therefore, is likely to be that of a cult classic. It will not be remembered as a perfectly polished gem, but as a bold, artistically significant indie title that demonstrated the power of a singular vision. It serves as an inspiration for solo developers, proving that compelling worlds can be built without a massive team or budget. Its influence may be seen in future games that prioritize a strong, cohesive aesthetic over graphical realism and that aren’t afraid to blend genres in unexpected ways.
Conclusion: A Flawed Gem in the Indie Firmament
Murder on Space Station 52 is a difficult game to summarize with a simple score. It is a game of profound contradictions. It is artistically magnificent yet narratively flawed. Its puzzles can be brilliantly intuitive and then suddenly, maddeningly opaque. It creates one of the most unique and immersive atmospheres in recent memory but populates it with a story that fails to fully capitalize on its potential.
For fans of the point-and-click genre and those who value artistic vision above all else, Space Station 52 is an essential play. Its world is one you will want to get lost in, and its aesthetic achievements are undeniable. However, for players who prioritize tight narrative pacing, clear character motivation, and frustration-free puzzles, the journey may be more aggravating than rewarding.
In the final analysis, Murder on Space Station 52 is not a great game, but it is an important and unforgettable one. It is the work of a genuine auteur, a passionate experiment that succeeds wildly in style and atmosphere even as it fumbles in story and gameplay balance. It earns its place in video game history not as a masterpiece, but as a shining example of the creative risks that make the indie scene so vital. Christopher Mathes has crafted a world that is, for all its faults, utterly his own, and that in itself is an achievement worth celebrating.