Team 17 and Sassy Chap made this game with a scenario in mind. Imagine: you come home after a long day, tired and hungry. You’re single and kinda lonely, but you’re also not great with people. So you walk into your kitchen, sad about the current state you’re in… then you slip on some magic glasses, and suddenly you’re surrounded by hot bachelors and bachelorettes ready to meet you. Ever wanted to date your fridge? Maybe your light bulb? Maybe your dishes? If you’re feeling spicy, maybe your garbage! Well, do I have the game for you: Date Everything! Yes. Everything. From your phone to your water, you can date everything. But is it good? Let’s talk about it.
STORY
You’ve just started your first day at Valdivian Inc. and couldn’t be more excited to start your new stay-at-home job. Except, you’ve now been laid off because a new AI has come to replace thousands of jobs. Suddenly, you’re approached by someone named TINFOILHAT and given a pair of slick aviators that give you the ability to perceive everyday objects as people. As you play the game and meet the Dateables (the objects whose physical forms you awaken through the glasses), you learn a little more about Dave Most (your former boss), Valdivian, and the purpose behind these glasses.
For all the nonsense this plot throws at you, it’s surprisingly serviceable for a premise this absurd. How else do you go about explaining why you can date your piano or your circuit box? What really sells the experience is the writing. Dave Most spouts hilarious corporate nonsense, TINFOILHAT checks in from increasingly sketchy locations, and Sam is always ready to mock you for your weird new life. If there’s a weak link, it’s Sam. She doesn’t contribute much to the plot—not bad, just forgettable. I found myself rolling my eyes more often than not when she blew up my phone, but at least her scenes don’t overstay their welcome. Overall, the narrative is silly, but fun enough to make me check my phone when a notification from the game popped up.
GAMEPLAY
This is a visual novel-style point-and-click game, so let’s talk about what you’ll actually be doing. Each day, you get five chances to talk to a Dateable before it’s time to hit the hay. As you chat them up, you can make each one a friend, a lover, or an enemy. No matter what path you choose, your interactions build social points, which unlock unique dialogue options and encourage you to connect with as many Dateables as possible.
There are 100 Dateables total. Around your home, there are 100 people waiting to forge some kind of bond with you. Just stare at them, shoot a beam from your glasses, and boom—you’re talking to your stairs. Or your piano. Some are easy to find, while others are more obscure or have specific unlock conditions. Like Nightmare, who only shows up if you drink coffee at midnight. Or Reggie, whose requirement… well, let’s just say it’s hilarious.
And speaking of hilarious, this game can be downright laugh-out-loud funny. I know I praised the writing already, but it deserves more love. You’d think it would be impossible to make 100 characters feel distinct, but they pull it off. Sure, some are annoying or less interesting, but most are entertaining as hell. Like Telly, your TV, who only speaks in rhymes or TV references. Or Kristof, the treadmill who’s definitely trying to kill me. Maybe. It’s bizarre, it’s creative, and it’s meant to be experienced firsthand. You’ll love some, despise others, and cringe at a few—but almost none of them are boring.
Now, you might find yourself asking a few questions. Like, “Do these objects do stuff when I’m not looking?” or “How do they move around?” or “How does my toaster have a bar/restaurant/delivery service?” The game’s answer? Don’t worry about it. If that annoys you, fair. But the game leans hard into suspension of disbelief, especially when the Dateables start getting abstract. It doesn’t take itself seriously, and it doesn’t want you to either. Just go with it.
VISUALS
The world itself is pretty plain. You spend most of your time in your house, and it looks like a house. Nothing special. But when you put the glasses on, the color palette pops and the world becomes more vibrant. It’s a subtle shift, but a clever one—a nice way of showing how perception changes everything.
But let’s get to the stars: the Dateables. Out of 100 possible partners, there is truly someone for everyone. Chubby bearded men? Got ’em. Flamboyant twinks? Yup. Fuckboys? Check. Himbos? Naturally. BBWs? Of course. Nightmarish concept monsters? Absolutely. The variety is incredible. Their designs are equally diverse, styled like loose interpretations of the objects they represent. Dorian, who represents a door, looks like a classy man until you spot the door patterns in his outfit. Some are goofy, some elegant, but many are surprisingly detailed—you’ll notice new things every time you revisit them.
AUDIO
The music is fine. Nothing groundbreaking, but it does the job. I really liked the jazzy track that plays when you talk to your breaker box. But the real MVP here? The voice acting.
I went in expecting an unknown indie cast. Instead, I got Troy Baker as the murderous treadmill. Ben Starr (yes, Final Fantasy XVI Clive) is Dorian the door. And when I heard Daisuke, the dishes, I had to pause—that’s Daisuke Tsuji, Jin Sakai from Ghost of Tsushima.
I don’t know what kind of deal Team 17 made with the voice actor gods, but this cast is stacked. And they’re phenomenal. It’s easy for a game with this kind of diversity to stumble into caricature, but thankfully, that never happens here. Sure, some accents might get an eye-roll, but it’s the jokes, not the performances. Every line is voiced, from the opening to the weirdest of side conversations, and the talent on display brings each Dateable to life.
CONCLUSION
Date Everything is a bizarre, surprisingly heartfelt game with a simple premise and a lot of charm. If you came here looking for deep emotional storytelling or some tearjerker romance, this isn’t that. But if you’re ready to help your hot, emotionally needy bed work through her feelings? Or teach your sultry breaker box how to practice self-care? Or save your sweet old staircase from an MLM scheme? Then buckle up.
This game is weird. It’s funny. It’s cringe. But it commits. And if you have a few minutes here and there for something silly and delightful, Date Everything is absolutely worth your time.
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