One Last Clip Review (PC)

I wouldn’t refer to myself as a die-hard cinephile. In fact, I wouldn’t say that I’m an aficionado of the art at all. To that end, I’d say that I’m the least likely person to have a stern eye for intricate details. But in the case of One Last Clip, I feel obliged to subject myself to the perpetual cycle of an episodic tale—a peculiar story that, for some absurd reason that’s unknown to most, has an underlying meaning and a twist that has the capacity to span numerous iterations. I’ve seen the clips unfold a dozen times over, yet it seems that, with each passing screening of the aforementioned tale, a new minor detail creeps out from beneath the woodwork to enlighten me on yet another important plot point and tamper with the moral compass that I foster.

I’ve been stuck in this desolate cinema for quite some time. It’s been so long, in fact, that the popcorn is no longer palatable, and the only thing left for me to watch is a black and white motion picture that sprouts new anomalies with each passing conclusion. If I am to escape this endless nightmare, then I must safely identify the anomalies in the movie, and then decide on whether or not to enter one of two doors. If I choose correctly, then I can open the book up to the next chapter in the movie—a segment that will, while still largely remaining somewhat identical in its core composition, find itself latching on to strange ink blots and abnormal happenings. The loop will continue, but the hopes of finding an escape will sadly remain depressingly low.

Post-Credits Blues

One Last Clip staples a twist on the traditional hidden object formula, with its inclusion of a movie-centric world and a looping montage of seemingly harmless clips à la heyday Steamboat Willy setting the scene for a familiar yet ever-intriguing puzzler about perpetual loops and critical choices. Encased within all of this lies a rather simple setup: an amnesiac awakens to a quiet and eerily vacant cinema in which, for some unusual reason, just a bulletin board and a looping stream of a peculiar movie—Paper Panic—steals the spotlight.

The board, without taking the initiative to fill your head with context, tells the user that they need to watch the movie, and then decide whether or not to progress through a door. If the clip contains anything out of the ordinary, then the user must exit through one door, whereas the second door is for built for canon purposes. The idea here, then, is simple: watch Paper Panic several times over, and spot subtle differences in the way it composes itself to knuckle in on the appropriate route. A bit like Seen Before, I suppose, but with more of a cinematic edge to it.

So, what is Paper Panic, if not a homage to vintage cartoons? Well, it’s essentially a short and somewhat “haunting” tale about a small protagonist and their paper plane. That’s about the brunt of it, though, for the sake of keeping a lid on the finer aspects of the story, I’ll refrain from saying too much about it. But that’s all that it is: a skittish cartoon in which the story frequently goes awry due to unforeseen events and anomaly intervention.

A Front Row Seat

While watching Paper Panic several times over more or less consumes the lion’s share of the overall game, the gameplay itself does thankfully feature a few extra components—the option to explore a fairly large cinema, for example. It doesn’t add much weight to the overall experience, but it does help to separate the drawn-out static moments that eat up the majority of the screen time. To add, One Last Clip also lathers a few entry-level jump scares and unsettling ambient effects to its cinematic universe, too, which adds to the disturbing aesthetic that it so desperately tries to portray. It isn’t woefully scary, though to give credit where it’s due, it does manage to exhume some good moments throughout its short but oddly memorable campaign.

The thing that propels One Last Clip forward is its inclusion of “distractions”—strange and often deadly events that frequently occur during the screening process. In addition to the six-piece animation that unfolds over the course of the story, there are also several unorthodox happenings that take center stage to, well, throw you off of your game, so to speak. And there are a lot of great moments to unpack here, too, with disturbing anomalies and seemingly malicious characters there to add depth to an otherwise linear cycle of events.

With all of the above in tow, One Last Clip provides a relatively perplexing hidden object experience that’s as equally immersive as it is thought-provoking. It’s a little rough around the edges in terms of its visual appeal, but generally, it’s a well-oiled incarnation that has a lot going for it. It’s still an anomaly-hunting love letter to a densely populated genre, but thanks to its special features and personal touches, it’s definitely a lot better than most cutting room floor leftovers.

Verdict

One Last Clip makes a much-needed adjustment to the anomaly-centric narrative with a fresh setting and an intriguing twist that keeps things both interesting and exciting throughout its short but memorable cinematic journey. It’s a lot like your traditional hidden object game, but with a few extra layers of cartoonish elements, theatrical effects, and ambient interludes. If that’s the sort of anomaly-based concoction that piques your curiosity, then there’s a strong chance that you’ll enjoy spooling through the haunting footage of Paper Panic and its adjacent universe.

While it’s certainly no secret that hidden object games are a dime-a-dozen thing, One Last Clip is still a good example of how such a predictable concept can still source fresh ways to spice up the existing formula. And I’ll be honest, the cinematic infusions are a great way to add depth to the blueprint, despite the fact that, gameplay-wise, it’s still the same basic thing. But I’m all for the idea of exploring new branches of the same family tree; it keeps things interesting, even though I practically know how they will end. I’m just glad that One Last Clip was capable of preventing me from reaching the credits before the curtain call.