Alex Birney’s OBEX is a sci-fi throwback to floppy disk era gaming, and the disappointments therein

Alex Birney’s latest film, OBEX, is a small, weird, and intimately made film that seems as if it belongs to a bygone era.

Connor Thomas Marsh (Birney, who also co-wrote, scored, and co-produced the film) is a simple man. Almost painfully so. He spends his days buried in his work, recreating photographs as dot matrix printouts.

In the evening, he relaxes in front of his triple vertical stack of TVs, with his trusty dog, Sandy (Dorothy, because animals deserve credit too), delighting in whatever movies they can record. His only connection to the outside world is Mary (Callie Hernandez), a kindly neighbor who delivers Connor’s groceries. Well, that and when he plays in the backyard with Sandy. Yet the overbearing screeching of cicadas has recently lessened his willingness to do so.

One day, while reviewing a computer magazine that advertises his business, Connor spies an ad for OBEX: a new state-of-the-art video game that promises to make you the star of the adventure. Instantly intrigued, he follows directions to videotape himself (and Sandy), snaps a few profile pictures for reference, and then anxiously awaits the game’s arrival.

When he finally receives it, though, it’s nothing as he hoped.

Dismayed and feeling swindled by the quality of the game and the promise it held, he tucks into bed in a huff. When he wakes up the next morning, he finds not only that Sandy has been kidnapped, but also that he has been mysteriously transported into the world of OBEX itself and thrust into an adventure far beyond his imagination.

It should be stated, if the above didn’t give it away, that Birney’s film is a period piece, set in the heyday of the 80s. We’re talking big chonky CRT TVs, even larger computers, personalized VHS tapes, and games that came on floppy disks. Cinematographer and co-writer Pete Ohs even shoots the film in black and white, to round out the retro aesthetic.

That aesthetic wears its influences on its sleeve. OBEX feels like someone mainlined Eraserhead, Pi, and Dave Made a Maze, with episodes of the Super Mario Bros. Super Show playing in the background. Which is to say, as jubilant and whimsy-filled as things first appear, there’s a fair amount of menace and dread peeking its way through the veneer. Spooky skeletons, insect people, a man with a giant tube TV for a head (Frank Mosely), and a freaking horned demon all help to keep things off-kilter.

As enjoyable as it all is, Birney’s film has trouble with its pacing. Part of this is because it treats the land of OBEX as more of a dreamscape than a video game. Connor converses with the ghost of his mother and drives the old family car while also brandishing a small rapier and hip pouch. Sequences appear to cycle inward, occasionally in a meandering manner, rather than progressing along a map or advancing the journey, as a game might. It’s incongruous with what audiences might be expecting.

Thankfully, the pacing never derails the overall adventure. The lo-fi aesthetics that Birney has made his bread and butter in prior works, Strawberry Mansions and Sylvio, are on full display once again. He has a knack for taking what should look or seem cheap and making it tactile and impressive. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, he adds a flourish to the most mundane of moments, unable to keep his creative streak under wraps.

What makes OBEX stand out from the crowd is how it mixes the fantastical with earnest sentimentality. Despite the elaborate world-building in the game and film, Birney maintains the emotional stakes as the central focus. This is one of the few movies where you could spoil the movie for someone without robbing it of its overall power. That’s special.

At a time when the world appears to be characterized by darkness and apprehension, any film that emphasizes the importance of “hugging the people around you, even if they’re covered in fur” is a worthwhile endeavor.

OBEX is in theaters and on VOD today.