Planet of Lana

Every now and then a game slips under the radar, jumps into your lap like a purring cat, and leaves you speechless in six hours flat. Planet of Lana is that game. A side-scrolling sci-fi puzzler that doesn’t need big-budget explosions or a 100-hour playtime to make you feel something. It just needs a girl, her squishy cat-bug-thing, and an art style that looks like a Ghibli painting fell into a dream.

You play as Lana, whose peaceful world gets body-snatched by faceless robot invaders. Your sister’s kidnapped, the birds scatter, and it’s time to run. What follows is a quiet, tension-laced journey through overgrown ruins, mechanical graveyards, and breathtaking alien vistas, each one begging to be framed.

The gameplay? Think Limbo meets Inside, but with fewer nightmares and more heartfelt moments. You won’t be punching anything. Instead, you’ll outwit machines, hide in tall grass, solve environmental puzzles, and occasionally whisper commands to Mui, your four-legged ride-or-die. Can you pet him? Of course. Does it do anything? Emotionally, yes.

Planet of Lana doesn’t reinvent the wheel, it polishes it until it shines. The puzzles won’t stump you unless you’re deeply sleep-deprived or criminally unobservant (guilty), and that’s fine. This isn’t a brain-buster. It’s a vibe.

And the music. Takeshi Furukawa’s score is pure Pixar magic. It swells and sighs like a heartbeat, pulling you deeper into the story even when no one’s speaking a word. Honestly? I’d let this man compose my voicemail greeting.

In a sea of noisy games, Planet of Lana is a quiet masterpiece.