BM

A few seconds into the game and it's clear something truly odd is happening. You're not even sure what's going on, but that's exactly where BM's charm lies—a mysterious experimental game from the mid-nineties that tries to be more than just entertainment.

An abbreviation as a title doesn't usually show up among official releases, but BM belongs to that category of games born in studios with limited budgets and big imagination. Without a specific description, it increasingly seems like a wondrous mix of genres—maybe a puzzle, maybe exploration, maybe something in between. A DOS version from the mid-nineties meant graphics and sound came from the possibilities of hardware of that time, without unnecessary elegance, purely factual.

What you take away from playing isn't a list of completed goals. It's more a feeling of concentration you direct yourself—the game won't take you by the hand, won't tell you what to do, and that's exactly what makes it interesting. Mechanics aren't clear, goals float somewhere in the mist, and in that uncertainty you simultaneously lose and find yourself.

Today similar experiments aren't rare, but BM belongs to those that tried it at a time when it was more bravery than trend. It's not a masterpiece, but an artifact of an era when creators didn't know if something like that would fly. It aged? Of course. But it's worth looking at precisely because it's so quietly unassuming.

Now it's played mainly in an emulator or browser—and surprisingly it handles it. It's not a game you'll love instantly, more an experience that stays in your head longer than the time you spent playing it. Ideal for moments when average entertainment doesn't appeal and you want something unknown.