Platforms:
PC, PS5, Xbox Series X|S
Released:
April 15, 2025
Publisher:
DON'T NOD
Developer:
DON'T NOD
Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is the latest narrative adventure game from Don’t Nod. I reviewed the opening half of this journey, Bloom, a couple of months back; this is a review for the second part, Rage. For the uninitiated, Lost Records: Bloom & Rage most closely resembles Don’t Nod’s previous work on Life is Strange, a character-driven narrative game where player decisions shape the story.
If you already bought Tape 1, Tape 2 is sitting in your library waiting to be launched. If that is the case, I recommend experiencing it for yourself. See the end of your journey, and reflect on the choices you made along the way.
Reviewing the latter half of this experience as a distinct product is difficult. First and foremost, much of Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is the same across both instalments. This may seem obvious, but the process of critique requires treating each half of the whole as a separate package. Of course, they inherently owe so much to one another. The building blocks of gameplay, visual design, music, and narrative are the same. This half does not drastically diverge from expectations. If you did not resonate with the first instalment, you are unlikely to have your opinion drastically changed during the closing chapter. So, how do Tape 1 and Tape 2 of Lost Records: Bloom & Rage primarily differentiate themselves? Execution.
Action!
After ending on a shocking revelation, we return to Velvet Cove immediately in the aftermath of part one. This chapter starts by sending you to pick up the pieces, and shifts its focus between Swann’s friends and the unique way the fallout affected them. Tape 1 begged you to appreciate the little things. Swann’s camera serves as the main mechanical impetus for this, asking you to slow down and record the world of Velvet Cove. Completing certain collectibles and viewing the footage from the simpler times gave me instant nostalgia, despite my only playing that part a few short months ago.
These quiet moments set the stage for an emotional sprint. While Tape 1 suffered some criticism for slower pacing, I had faith that this would pay off in the second half. Thankfully, it does. Because of that strong grounding, this chapter is far more emotionally fraught. Tape 1 wasn’t without dramatic moments, but conversations with Swann’s friends were far less stressful than those in Tape 2.

Tape 2’s pacing is also much faster than the initial half. Without needing to set as much up, once it gets moving, it rarely slows down. A distinct mechanical element being removed for an extended portion also means greater focus on the story, pushing you through those final hours.
“This was always going to be a tragedy…”
Numerous times, I agonised over the choices I was making. As the stakes rose and emotions ran high, staying true to my version of Swann became increasingly difficult. Compared to the first half, the impact of each choice feels far greater. The decision matrix at the end reinforced that impression. Choices I had locked myself out of sat alongside decisions I couldn’t fathom the pathway to. My Swann’s story was, as I expected from the outset, deeply melancholy. While I believe my final moments in Velvet Cove may be regarded broadly as the ‘bad’ ending once the discourse settles, to me, it felt incredibly authored. This was always going to be a tragedy, and my ending reflected that.
That tragedy lands in large part because of the cast. I previously praised Natalie Liconti for their role as Kat, and I want to echo that here. Across both parts, Liconti’s performance is stellar. Kat is the breakout character in Lost Records: Bloom & Rage, and I eagerly await Liconti’s next performance. This chapter does feature more scenes of high emotional range from the rest of the cast as well, and each has far more time to shine. Given that the performances need to believably show 27 years of change, it is remarkable that you can track these arcs so effortlessly across time periods.

The truth is out there
One area where your mileage will vary, and where my thoughts on Lost Records become murky, is the supernatural. To quote Alan Wake (quoting Stephen King), “Nightmares exist outside of logic, and there’s little fun to be had in explanations; they’re antithetical to the poetry of fear.”
Lost Records: Bloom & Rage isn’t a horror story. But there are clear inspirations from Stephen King’s work, alongside other coming-of-age stories that exist on the periphery of horror. Initially, supernatural elements were unexplained and downplayed. In Tape 2, the narrative begins tugging at the paranormal. What exactly is going on in the forest that the girls so often retreat to? What happened that summer in 1995 that broke them apart forever? It is in these explanations, these answers, that Lost Records stumbles.

It wasn’t that I found any of these explanations wholly unsatisfactory. The issue arises in the way that it balances between revelation and obfuscation. The answers are there, but I left feeling as if the internal logic of the supernatural in this world doesn’t quite track. As the final pieces of this puzzle fall into place, the majesty of Don’t Nod’s technical, musical, and visual work will immerse you. But after the dust had fallen and the credits began to roll, I felt mounting questions.
“The issue arises in the way that it balances between revelation and obfuscation.”
It may seem contradictory that, simultaneously, elements of the ending feel both over- and under-explained. But in giving certain answers, Don’t Nod invites an internal interrogation of these narrative devices. Explanations that might share more of what happened, but the how and the why are still unclear, giving you new questions that Lost Records does not have time to answer. Don’t Nod seems to have more to say within the framework and world of Lost Records, but I felt that more finality might have made the ending even stronger. Unfortunately, anything more specific than this would venture too far into spoiler territory.
Aspect ratio
While the mechanics are largely the same across both parts, this chapter does feature some noteworthy sections. The two standouts are a short puzzle and a stealth segment that toys with unreliable narration as a justification for its failure state. Mechanically, besides this, Don’t Nod does not break new ground.
What might surprise you is the visuals. From the very beginning, Lost Records: Bloom & Rage looks immaculate. But, somehow, Don’t Nod takes it up a notch in the second half. Tape 2 is striking. Beautifully directed scenes with inspired cinematography and faster pacing all serve to enhance the strong emotional current.

There are shots, lighting, and camera work that show a deep understanding of cinematic language and a willingness to experiment. Shot composition is an absolute standout throughout this part, and the cinematic team should be incredibly proud of their work. Without giving too much away, the final sequence in 1995 has some beautiful shots that will make their way to desktop backgrounds everywhere.
Audio design in Lost Records: Bloom and Rage is impeccable, but music specifically ties together much of this experience. Tape 2 once again elevates this above the groundwork laid in Tape 1. With enhanced connections to the characters, cues and leitmotifs serve to quickly return you to Swann’s perspective. The entire soundtrack beautifully sets the tone throughout the experience. While the standout lyrical entry for many will be See You In Hell, I will forever associate this duology with the understated The Veil.
Don’t Nod has also put work into the technical side of the game. Pop-in, while not entirely fixed, is far less egregious than before. Tape 2 was also much more stable, and there were no hard crashes in the six hours it took me to complete it. There are also improvements to lip sync and facial animations, resulting in far fewer instances of jarring and stiff faces.

…and cut
I had high expectations after playing the opening half of Lost Records: Bloom & Rage. The characters, nostalgia, and mystery of this story were all incredible, and I couldn’t wait to see where Swann and her friends would end up. In that possibility space, I imagined all the ways Don’t Nod could conclude this tale. On almost all fronts, the closing chapter meets the bar set by the opening, and in key areas eclipses it. The music and visuals are more daring. The decisions and emotions are more impactful. And compared to the initial launch, this is also far more stable and technically performant.
I do wish more had been left unsaid in the supernatural mystery, but that is not the heart of this experience. Swann, Kat, Nora, and Autumn are. In short, Lost Records: Bloom & Rage sticks the landing. While I think this chapter could have given more finality, I still hope to one day return to Velvet Cove. I just hope it doesn’t take 27 years.
8.5
Great
Positive:
- Visual design, cinematography, and shot composition are phenomenal
- Pace picks up significantly, creating an emotional race to the finish
- A wide range of choices with divergence in the narrative outcomes
- Performances are excellent across the board
- Technical issues have been addressed between parts
Negative:
- Some questions would have been better left unanswered
- Elements of the ending lack complete emotional closure
Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is a beautifully directed, melancholy tale of friendships forged and lost. Resonant performances and strong visual direction across two vastly different time periods will immerse you in the stakes and drama of Velvet Cove. The journeys of the characters across both parts beautifully render the power of friendship in your youth, and the harsh reality of drifting apart. As is the case with all strong supernatural stories in the New Weird genre, the core story is relatable and human. While some minor narrative stumbles in the ending, with answers that may have better been left unsaid, do detract from the concluding moments, Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is not a story to be missed.