Note: Airhead from the small Danish studio Octato was originally released in February 2024. Unfortunately, the game was released in a rather sluggish and unfinished state due to co-operation difficulties between the developer and their publishers, HandyGames. However, now that the game has been fixed (sort of), we think it deserves a proper chance, hence this late review.
The platform game Airhead opens very demonstratively by blocking the way to the right. Instead, you must - contrary to custom - move to the left. The beginning gives a clear indication of what you're in for. Sure, Airhead looks and plays a lot like other atmospheric platformers like Limbo, Inside and Little Nightmares. But the difficulty level has been raised, not just a little, but significantly.
The Danish-developed indie game opens in some dark stone caves on a distant planet. Where are you? Who are you? The game doesn't explain this, and our poor protagonist can hardly search his memory for answers either. Because he has no head! Fortunately, it doesn't take long before he finds a head, but its oversized proportions clearly reveal that it's not his own. But that doesn't mean it can't be useful.
While the initial puzzles are quite simple - pushing boulders and manipulating small creatures to progress - things quickly become more complicated once the new head is attached.
While the head will eventually give you access to a range of abilities, it also comes with some limitations. You may need to get rid of it briefly from time to time if a passageway is too narrow or when the planet's strange creatures seem to think the head belongs to them. Often you have to utilise the game's physics system, for example by letting the head roll down an incline or let it be carried by the wind while you yourself rush past some obstacles.
And speed is key. If you are separated from your head for too long, it simply runs out of air and you are sent back to the nearest checkpoint.
While some platformers feature gold or power ups, oxygen is arguably the most important resource in Airhead. Only by standing perfectly still can you breathe calmly. Otherwise, every movement consumes oxygen. Every step is therefore precious and can potentially be fatal if you haven't spotted an oxygen tank beforehand.
In a game where exploration and experimentation are key, it's a brave decision to put such a constraint on the player. But it actually works surprisingly well. The oxygen bottles act as a kind of signpost to ensure that you don't get completely lost in the game's semi-open world, where there are often multiple paths to follow. If you can't reach an oxygen cylinder - well, you're probably lost and will have to return later.
Along the way, you'll also find compressed air bottles with heavy and light air - allowing you to go underwater or float, respectively - which further helps to guide you on the right path. The game's Metroidvania structure ends up thriving despite the distinct lack of air.
Another point where Airhead excels is in the sense of progression. Whereas initially you can barely move for ten to fifteen seconds without needing oxygen, it's possible to expand your lung capacity considerably by finding hidden upgrades. You can still play the game without it, but I personally felt that the extra exploration was well spent as the larger oxygen supply gave more room to experiment and unfold.
The main upgrades are not optional, however, but come through the forgotten research stations that you pass along the way. Each of these expands the head's capabilities considerably. Over time, you'll be able to manipulate machines, light up dark caves and much more. You also gain access to a double jump and the ability to float through water and air.
However, you lose all your abilities if you put your head down. The contrast between your abilities with your head on and your helplessness without it serves as a constant reminder of how far you've come since your humble beginnings.
As mentioned, oxygen is limited in Airhead, but luckily the atmosphere is still top notch. The first fifth of the game is somewhat stuffy. But when you finally get outside to the planet's prairie-like surface, the game impresses. The camera zooms out to reveal an impressive landscape, while the sombre, drone-like soundtrack suddenly hits some lighter, more uplifting notes. The rest of the game effectively switches between closed and open environments and dark and light.
What really elevates the experience, however, is the soundtrack. Composer Rasmus Hartvig won 'Best Audio' at the Game Awards 2025 for his melodies, and it is fully deserved. The atmospheric music pieces may not reach quite the same airy heights as in Journey, nor are they quite as haunting as in Limbo and Inside. But less can certainly do that too.
The soundtrack is - despite the high quality - quite humble and often stays nicely in the background, only poking its head out in the most intense sequences. At other times it's even completely absent, which really lets the rest of the excellent sound design come into its own. The resounding footsteps in the caves; the rushing wind between the mountain peaks; the creaking machines; and not least the satisfying sound when you put your head to an oxygen tank and fill every cubic centimetre of your lungs with fresh air - it's all very atmospheric.
Airhead has some great puzzles, it oozes atmosphere and the Metroidvania structure works surprisingly well. Still, I can't say I had fun all the way through my 5 hour playthrough.
First of all, this number, which I took from my save file, is extremely misleading. You'll be reloading again and again as you run out of air in your attempts to solve puzzles. Luckily, restarting is quick. But it can still be frustrating as it's often not your fault when things go wrong.
The biggest culprit is the controls. The best puzzle-platforming games challenge both body and mind. Or, to put it less pompously, a large part of their appeal lies in the fact that you have to both figure out a solution on an abstract level and then execute it with precise jumps and movements. Perhaps very symptomatic of Airhead, it's like the weak body can't quite support the heavy head.
Several times I had actually figured out what I was going to do - or had a good idea - but the execution failed. The movements are stiff and it can be difficult to grab edges. Combined with the need for constant air, this creates a lot of frustration.
The controls shouldn't take all the blame, however, because a large part of the responsibility also falls on the game's environments. As mentioned, the overall Metroidvania design works, and several of the puzzles are almost works of genius. But just as the game's art style is a bit undetailed and half-baked, so are the game's objects. You never quite know where textures and the underlying collision boxes meet, and several times I ended up simply getting stuck in objects.
In games like Fallout, Assassin's Creed and so on, I can live with that kind of jank. Yes, it can even be part of the charm sometimes. But in a game like Airhead, which lives and breathes through raw atmosphere, it's unfortunately very destructive. Time and time again, I was pulled out of the game's immersive world. In a couple of cases, it even happened quite literally, as my character simply slipped through the unstable world and fell into an eternal pit of raw and unfinished shapes and textures.
The bugs aren't so numerous that they completely kill the game. But they do frustrate. So do the game's puzzles. Not because they are poorly designed - quite the opposite - but simply because there is a lack of space between them. You barely have time to enjoy solving a puzzle before you hit a brick wall again.
Finally, it can sometimes be a little too difficult to figure out where to go next. Developer Octato seems to have realised this and has introduced a number of assistance features that I strongly recommend having turned on. Particularly useful is the marker that shows you where to go on a map. Well, sort of, because there's no door-knocking in Airhead.
Even the game's hints - which you can activate by pressing the right analogue stick - are often only an indirect help. Initially, they tend to be formulated as a kind of fortune cookie wisdom (sometimes you have to let the wind take you - it pays to split up) but in the latter half of the game they are a little more direct in their assistance.
Towards the end of Airhead, I often looked at the game's map. I was simply exhausted and thinking - aren't we there yet? On the other hand, the map with its countless branches also gave me a sense of joy and brought back a lot of memories. It really was quite a journey I had been on with my oversized head. Yes, at times you'll probably need some air if you don't want to lose your head completely. But Airhead is still worth all the hardship.