Existential, strange and dark, the surreal philosophical treatment of mortality in Mouthwash hits hard.

A game about dying, lost in space on a crippled ship and unable to be rescued, is not sound it’s great fun… and, well, it’s not for any of the participants. But Developer Wrong Organ’s Mouthwash truly is a gripping, surreal, existential exploration of guilt, grief, and responsibility as the crew of the doomed freight hauler Talper come to terms with their inevitable demise.

After colliding with an asteroid, the Talper is adrift in deep space, and since they are large soulless corporations, there will almost certainly not be an expensive rescue. To make matters worse, the protective foam that sealed countless holes in the hull disabled almost the entire ship and its supplies, leaving the crew months of food and a cargo full of alcoholic mouthwash to continue working in their final days.

Crew manifest

Screenshot of Captain Curley's mouth gargling covered in bandages — (Image credit: CRITICAL REFLEX)

Trying to cope with this are Anya, a fragile nurse who can’t handle anything, Swansea, a rude mechanic who won’t tolerate even an ounce of nonsense, and Daisuke, an optimistic young intern who sees the good in everything. And here you are: Jimmy, acting captain, trying to hold it all together while everyone else is fraying and falling apart.

Oh, and let’s not forget Curly, the old captain. He spends most of the game as a charred tree stump, the wetly bandaged remains of a man whose arms and legs have been burned by the fires of the crash. One lidless eye peeking out from the flaking tissue wrapping it, along with a lipless, toothy grin. Constantly receiving painkillers, he is always writhing and moaning senselessly somewhere in the background, bridging the gap between the living and the dead, a reminder of what awaits the rest of the team.

In itself, this setup for a strong story about mortality set in a dirty sci-fi world is a pretty good hook. However, Mouthwash takes an almost experimental approach to the story: the screen melts between time jumps, creating a mystery of what you’re watching. “6 Weeks After Crash”, “2 Days Before Crash”, “1 Hour Before Trial” announce various sometimes cryptic titles as you weave through everything that happened. The story jumps back and forth, keeping you guessing about what you know happened.

In the mouthwash screenshot, Captain Curley, covered in bandages, says: "I have thought many times, “Is this what the world is like?”"

(Image credit: CRITICAL REFLEX)

However, I won’t say anything here because one of the most interesting aspects of mouthwash is that nothing is as it seems. The information and events you encounter rub and collide with each other in their own disjointed order. Consequences are often presented before actions, and even then the story of what happened may not be the most reliable of narrators. Messages like “Take responsibility” or “I hope this hurts” constantly flash, suggesting that there are other subconscious feelings or voices trying to be heard.

“This often turns philosophically into dark, introspective ruminations, such as obsessive thoughts that win the “move the car off the road” argument.”

Even without imminent death, rinsing your mouth often turns philosophically into dark, introspective musings, like the obsessive thoughts that win the “get the car off the road” argument. “I understand? Is this all I’ll ever be?” says one character, thinking about his life. Not because it’s bad, but because it’s very good. “I’ve thought many times, ‘Is this what the world is like?’ And is it good enough? There are moments where certain conversations make the entire game feel like a playable memento mori. The accident will probably speed up the process for the crew, but these thoughts apply no matter where your asteroid is now.

Correct angle

Screenshot of crew members gargling at a party

(Image credit: CRITICAL RELFEX)

There’s something very cinematic about Mouthwash. The carefully coded use of 70s and 80s sci-fi films is evident from the start, but what stands out is the way he uses space, color and light to frame the rooms and corridors of the ship. As you encounter his time-hopping metaphysical and existential, everything you look at oozes style – using deliberately foam-confined space and palette to make everything look like an elaborate camera shot. Its low-poly horror style belies a triple art direction.

For example, the ship’s galley has two doors, both of which face a bright, ceiling-high video screen showing artificial weather, making it impossible to enter the room without framing it nicely. Talper’s short corridors open up and turn at right angles to draw attention to the space ahead. Even without the claustrophobic exploration of death, it would simply be a beautiful place to explore.

Mouthwash is a short game, three hours max, but you’ll have a lot to chew in that time. Moreover, its final revelations require an almost immediate recap in order to reassess virtually the entire story and see all the things that flew by unnoticed, without definitive context. Forums and Reddit are full of end-of-event discussions with differing views on what it all ultimately means. Personally, I think the gist of it is pretty clear, but there are different approaches to some areas that suggest that some parts of it speak differently to different people. It’s dark, deep and effortlessly stylish, and the only way to find out what it’s telling you is to play it. I hope it hurts.

Mouthwash is now available on PC. For more advice, be sure to visit our Indie Spotlight row.