Unravelling my mysterious island jaunts with the world’s second-best detective.
Indie games have this same quality.
As a protagonist, they’re worryingly naive and well-meaning, often to a fault.
Proudly the world’s second-best investigator.
The sequel doubles down on this gag with Vengaboys lyrics.
A game like this demands to be played to be understood.
This deadpan humour feels distinctly Australian to me… an Australian.
Characters in Frog Detective remind me of the people I grew up around in my rural North Queensland town.
Bruxner’s games speak to that honesty in a way that feels authentically antipodean.
Amongst them, I found a short story.
The drawings were less grounded in reality, but you could see what I was going for even so.
It reminded me of Frog Detective - how it feels and what so many get wrong about it.
It’s not childish, but honest.
Bruxner’s work is a reminder that the world doesn’t need to be taken so seriously.
As a kid, I believed pretty much anything, and so does our fair detective.
In life, it’s easy to feel like you’re the world’s second-best detective.
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
But that doesn’t bring this deductive amphibian down.
I’d be remiss to mention the jazzy undercurrent that follows the Frog Detective throughout their adventures.
Catchy syncopated sounds persist throughout the mysteries, cementing a sense of noir intrigue.
Electric Eel Park Ranger or something.
