RTFM Review (PC)

Read the F*cking Manual (RTFM) brings the world to its knees with a reality-splitting, anomaly-romping Cold War technological catastrophe that invites users—Troubleshooters and Operators—to solve ludicrous dioramas and text-based puzzles to prevent all hell from breaking loose. Think Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes, and infuse an old-school terminal with a jumbled PDF manual that blurs the lines between conventional science and nonsensical solutions into the equation, and you should have a vague idea of what we’re talking about here. That, in short, is what RTFM is, in a nutshell: a two-player experimental game that relies on teamwork and foolproof strategies and bitterly loathes incompetence and those who prefer to “wing it” without giving the instructions so much as a second glance.

To be clear, RTFM isn’t a fully-fledged co-op game. Well, it is, but it’s also the brainchild of a weekend-long Game Jam, meaning, Dinosaur Polo Club hasn’t gone above and beyond to create the next best thing. Rather, the Mini Motorways and Mini Metro team has essentially incubated an idea, and created a small prototype to expand the concept before publishing it. But don’t let that fool you into thinking that it’s a bad game. On the contrary, RTFM is a ridiculously fun, albeit short experience that has a lot to offer, with multiple endings, puzzles, and PDF-related antics to keep you on your toes (and also dismantling life-long friendships) for an hour or two.

Of course, if you’re familiar with Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes, then it shouldn’t take all that long for you to wrap your head around RTFM or how it works. Similar in design, it sees two players working together to solve various on-screen prompts and puzzles. On one hand, you have the Troubleshooter, who has the perplexing task of reading from a PDF document to comb over and ultimately analyze the problem. But on the other hand, you have the Operator, who has the task of decoding the manual without being able to see it, to make the necessary adjustments to ultimately prevent anomalies from shattering the system and bending reality. Alas, it isn’t a “monkey see, monkey do” situation; it’s a cool, slick, and precise collaborative process that requires a stern eye for detail and a lot of patience from both the Troubleshooter and the Operator.

The reality of the situation is, however, a little different than you average Mission Impossible-like bomb defusing scene. See, while the prompts aren’t overly complicated, the process of eliminating the jargon and deciphering the instructions is a little bit of a headache, more so when neither the Troubleshooter or the Operator have the faintest idea how to obey simple commands and untangle basic instructions. But that’s all part of the fun here, and frankly, the point of the experience — to fumble and falter before witnessing the end of reality and the abrupt uprising of the anomalies that are rooted deep within the console.

The good news here is that, minus the occasional conflict between both parties, nothing particularly bad can happen in RTFM. Well, to tell a lie, it can — but with multiple endings to unlock and a handful of dynamic text-based puzzles to solve, you have all the time in the world (sort of) to correct your mistakes and swing for a new climax with each passing turn. And it’s a lot of fun, too, to simply try and ultimately fail the prompts over and over again. It isn’t to be taken seriously; if anything, it’s a comical experience that is made to feel like a lighthearted and simple collaborative process. There are caveats to it, for sure, but the general act of working together can feel rather rewarding and, dare I say, satisfying. That is, of course, until the wires cross streams and the world begins to shatter. But that’s another story altogether.

With all of the above said, I wouldn’t expect a bulky game here if I were you. Unlike Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes, RTFM is essentially designed with the intent to keep you rambling for twenty or thirty minutes between meatier gameplay sessions and little more. With a lack of post-game content (excluding the various endings, that is), you can more or less sweep this experience beneath the rug in a single sitting, perhaps even two or three. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great choice for a party ice-breaker, but I certainly wouldn’t say that it’s a game that has the capacity to keep you busy for days on end. It’s a means to an end—a quick romper that can give you a quick giggle and a chance to unleash your fury on your closest friend. Therefore, it’s best not to expect a huge experience here. That said, it is a free game, so even without a huge amount of content to sink your teeth into, it’s still worth taking into consideration, if only for ten minutes or so to help you curb your boredom.

Verdict

Read the F*cking Manual isn’t a massively complex game, but it is one that has the potential to keep both you and your friends mindlessly fumbling and falling apart for twenty of thirty minutes, give or take. More to the point, with a number of endings to unlock and a good variety of Cold War-like console puzzles to crack, it ought to be just enough to keep you distracted from the hustle and bustle of the bulkier co-op games on the market. It might lack the depth and technical complexity of an unnerving couch co-op game à la Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes, but at the end of the day, it’s a free-to-play prototype with a lot of bark.

If you have the time to spare and the helping hands to aid your rebellion against the anomalies, then you ought to consider adding RTFM to your pre-party to-do list. It’s quick, intense, and above all, surprisingly entertaining. The fact that it’s a free game just makes it that much more appealing. Go figure.