OBEX Review

This review is based on a screening at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival.

Movies about people getting sucked into video games have been around nearly as long as video games themselves, but none have had as much wondrous lo-fi charm as OBEX. While the likes of Tron and Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle don’t understand games well enough to fully make good on their alluring premises, writer/director/star Albert Birney’s scrappy take gets it all right. Initially playing as something less like Steven Spielberg’s so-so adaptation of Ready Player One and more like Joel Potrykus’ riveting Relaxer, OBEX’s focus on a lonely homebody soon widens to capture a fantasy video game world that’s as infinitely silly as it is subtly spectacular. Shot entirely in beautiful black and white by cinematographer and co-writer Pete Ohs, it’s a gem of a movie with an intimate, yet still playful, understanding of what draws us into games in the first place.

It all begins in humble, haunting, and humorous fashion. The year is 1987, and Conor (Birney) spends most of his days in solitude, with only his adorable dog, Sandy, for company. The dawn of the commercial internet is a few years off, but Conor’s world is still dominated by screens: He wakes up in the morning and immediately begins watching his televisions (yes, plural – three stacked on top of each other), which results in plenty of unexpectedly funny, blink-and-you’ll-miss-them interactions between the sets as he changes channels. He briefly talks to the neighbor who gets his groceries, watches late night horror movies like A Nightmare on Elm Street alone with Sandy, and makes portraits for people by meticulously typing out a series of symbols on a rudimentary word processor. Excellent sound design immerses us in the chirping cicadas and clacking keyboards that make up the rhythms of Conor’s little life – that is, until he gets a new computer game: OBEX. This proves to be a monumental decision.

Much of OBEX’s 90 minutes depict Conor going through the motions – it takes a little bit for him to be transported to an 8-bit realm. The film drags a bit in the beginning, making its second half stronger by comparison. But it doesn’t feel like Birney is stalling; these early scenes help establish that his character is searching for something. Throw in some simple yet strikingly realized dream sequences in which Conor drives down a desolate road with his mother and we start to feel a greater sense of sadness amid the abundant, lighthearted flourishes. It’s only natural that he would give himself over to OBEX after Sandy, his only real friend, seemingly disappears into it.

Much as he did in the similarly inventive Strawberry Mansion, Birney doesn’t spell things out, instead letting the more slippery and surreal details wash over us. Once Conor finds himself in OBEX, he encounters many staples of vintage video games: There’s the caring character at a tavern who assists in the quest, a companion Conor needs to rescue before continuing on, and adversaries whose fantastical forms wouldn’t seem out of place in the kindgom of Hyrule. But these characters are also reflections of our hero’s everyday life: The companion is a man with a giant TV for a head, a character design whose gloomy undercurrent is hard to shake. If the only person Conor ever talks to is just an embodiment of the TVs he has at home, is he actually connecting with anyone? Is the game just a translation of his dreams and anxieties?

OBEX raises all these questions without offering neat answers to them, proving to be more about the sensory and simple-yet-graceful wonders of its video game world. These include one final boss who’s always lurking in the shadows and a nightmarish sequence in which the game (as well as Conor’s world) begins to unravel, almost sending the proceedings into full-blown horror territory. There’s no downside to the unexplained details, since they’re supported by Birney’s palpable love for the subject matter and the deeper, often playfully poetic, emotional touches made possible by that care and sincerity. It’s just a man battling skeletons and demons in search of his dog, yes, but it’s also about finding a way home. What awaits him there, whether it’s more loneliness or possibly the chance to step outside his comfort zone, gives OBEX a genuine emotional throughline. Each step of the journey is a delight, pulling us deeper into the joyous creations of Birney and company. It’s not only one of the most amusing video game movies ever made – it’s also the one that cuts right to the medium’s potential to reflect the trying realities of our own world while simultaneously delivering us from them.