Does not Commute

Does Not Commute starts innocently enough: You, a lone car, gently weaving through suburban streets bathed in the golden glow of ‘70s nostalgia. But then comes the second car. And the third. And the fourth. Suddenly, your past selves are clogging intersections like ghosts of bad routes past, and you’re one wrong turn away from crashing into your own incompetence. It’s a time-bending paradox, and you’re the one who caused it.

That’s the hook: you drive each vehicle in succession, but every car plays out in real time alongside every one before it. It’s a turn-based traffic jam where the only enemy is your memory, and your impulse to drift stylishly through a yield sign when you’re already late. Each car comes loaded with its own speed, weight, and handling quirks, forcing you to adapt on the fly while preserving precious seconds from the ticking clock.

Adding to the brilliance is a steady drizzle of absurd character vignettes. Why is Dr. Schneider moving thermonuclear materials in a hot dog truck? What’s the deal with Mrs. Griffin’s mask? It’s subtly hilarious chaos undercut by deeply clever level design and a dash of self-loathing as you realize: you’ve hit yourself again.

It’s strategic. It’s reactive. It’s stupidly satisfying.

With a fair free-to-play model (and a generous, optional checkpoint unlock), Does Not Commute rewards practice and precision. This is a game where doing better means being better. And trust me, you’ll want to replay until your commute is flawless. Or, at the very least, slightly less embarrassing.