top of page

PARENT HUB

blank.png

SUSTAINABILITY

blank.png

GAMING ADVICE

blank.png

SUPPORT

blank.png

Generation Exile Review: A Solarpunk Survival Game That Struggles With Its Own Vision

  • 2 days ago
  • 7 min read
Futuristic scene with two figures overlooking a sci-fi cityscape. Text reads Generation Exile. Vibrant hues, geometric designs.

City-builder and survival games in inhospitable conditions have become quite popular. From Frostpunk through Timberborn to Survival Mars, we've seen quite a few scenarios in which nature makes life difficult for our virtual population. In this category of games falls Generation Exile, a game about "making ends meet" while your colony on a spaceship tries to survive. The combination of survival and cheerful solarpunk aesthetics was the reason why we had to give this game a chance. Unfortunately, the road to the stars is often paved with bad design decisions.

There are two ways to play Generation Exile: through a campaign or through a sandbox mode called Planetfall. In the campaign, the game puts you in the role of the Caretaker, the leader of a group of survivors on a generation ship traveling toward a new home for humanity. It's up to you and your assistants to restore the ship and ensure that the colony doesn't collapse before you reach the new planet. You'll achieve this by building structures on hexagonal maps, each of which represents a different biome within the ship. While these choices shape your journey, the nuances of gameplay reveal themselves as you continue.

New maps unlock as we progress through the story, and each of the three biomes brings its own obstacles and new objects to build. The game's gameplay in that context becomes a loop of building objects, reading text that advances the story or describes an event, balancing limited resources, and assigning assistants to perform tasks such as research or crew morale.

In the mood for something completely different? Check out our Tales of Berseria Remastered review!



In Generation Exile, A Little Color Means a Lot


If there's one segment of Generation Exile I really liked, it's its visual style. While most modern science fiction titles drown in those same washed-out, gray, and depressing tones we've long grown accustomed to, this title fully adopts solarpunk aesthetics.


Futuristic cityscape with circular buildings surrounded by greenery under a yellow-orange sky. Interface icons and text overlay present.

Each biome has its own specific color palette, and each structure has animations that make that entire micro-world feel as if someone really lives there. All of this feels thoughtful and intended to enhance the atmosphere, giving the game a visual identity rarely seen in a sea of generic SF titles. Combined with the pleasant music by Ben Prunty (who did the soundtrack for FTL: Faster Than Light), for a moment you'll forget about the logistical nightmare ahead of you.

The visual style hits on nostalgia and atmosphere, but the interface's functionality is another story. Key information is often hidden, so, for example, you won't see a detailed explanation anywhere of what exactly it means if a character has the trait "shy." I mean, it's clear what that means, but not what impact it has on the actual gameplay.

When Space Runs Out on the Space Ship In Generation Exile


Now we come to the main thing in Generation Exile – the structure building itself and resource management. If you love planning sprawling industrial zones and complex logistical networks, this isn't the game for you. The limited maps here don't allow you to do that. Most buildings have a small range of effect, so you'll quickly find yourself in a situation where you have to build three of the same building just because the first one doesn't reach the neighboring plot by only a few millimeters. Instead of thinking about proper object distribution, you're thinking about how to squeeze a water pump between three warehouses.

If the maps were a bit larger and the building ranges were more logical, I have a feeling that dealing with challenges would become more diverse. As it is, we only have the option of surviving in a cramped space that stifles every attempt at planning. This is best seen in waste management. Some of the structures produce biowaste that needs to be disposed of in dedicated structures with limited capacity. Once that capacity is filled, the game doesn't offer a way to free it up – you need to build a new structure, and the old one cannot be demolished.

However, once you manage to arrange the structures and complete the assigned objectives, at least you feel satisfied because everything finally works as it should. As a reward for solving tasks, you get a new level of development that unlocks new structures or improvements to existing ones. Though that feeling of satisfaction disappears once you come to a new map, the process of arranging in a cramped space starts all over again.

Task Management Is Not Up To Par


Game interface showing task assignment, team roster, and hazard warnings. Dominant colors are yellow and red, with strategic elements.

The previously mentioned assistants are presented as characters, each with their own skills, traits, and memories of certain events. Since their traits are unique, you'll wonder if they have any impact on gameplay or if they're just there to fill space. But as we already mentioned, the game doesn't explain that at all. Similar chaos reigns in the system of influence during dialogue. You'll get a notification that you've failed a speech check, but the game does not explain on what basis that check is calculated. The sense of power and control over the colony's fate is all too often replaced by mere guessing.

Task management itself is, unfortunately, quite shallow. It all comes down to simple math: find the character with the highest number, click on him, and repeat that fifty more times. There's no weighing of traits, risks, or specific skills that would bring the game to life. The red icons that constantly warn about capacity being full annoyed me, even though we have no option but to address it. These are those little things that constantly throw you off rhythm and remind you that this ship is still in the rough assembly phase in the hangar.

The Illusion of Choice In Generation Exile


Conversations between characters are the main way the story in Generation Exile moves forward. The texts and dialogues that push the story forward are full of strange expressions and "expert" English that sound somewhat like they were written by AI. Sometimes it seems that the game is trying to be smarter than it actually is, forgetting that narrative should serve the player, and not just give the impression that scientists are conducting the dialogue.

Through conversations with your colleagues, you have the opportunity to choose different answers or make various decisions that should have weight or some kind of impact on gameplay. But if there were any consequences to choosing one option over another, I didn't notice them. The game also asks you to make important conclusions before you even get the chance to understand what consequences that will have on your colony. Instead of feeling like a wise leader, you more often feel like someone randomly pressing buttons and praying to the gods of RNG.

One example of that confusion is when my character caught crew members organizing fights as a "pressure valve." I had the option to ban their version of "Fight Club" or join them. I chose the second option, only for the game to tell me through text that I had accidentally killed one of my assistants during the fight. I quickly replaced him, and there were no consequences for my being responsible for a crew member's death, either through additional plot or any kind of reaction from other characters.

In Conclusion


People gather in a warmly lit brewery with tables and barrels. Two figures converse, text reads: "It's Chuck and Ted, standing too far apart."

Generation Exile ultimately leaves the impression of a game that had a clear vision of what it wanted to be, but in practice, doesn't know how to get there. Its solarpunk aesthetic and beautiful color palette are truly a balm for the eyes in a genre that all too often flees into grayness, but that visual identity is merely a wrapper around a series of frustrating design decisions. From cramped maps that stifle planning possibilities and turn the game into a sort of Tetris version, to an unclear interface, the game doesn't give the impression that you're a capable colony manager.

What hurts the most is the missed opportunity in the narrative and management segment. Assistants, who should be the heart of the colony, remain merely generic items that you rarely pay attention to. Dialogues are full of artificial phrases that only deepen the feeling that your decisions have no real weight. Instead of a deep strategic simulation, we got an exercise in patience.

Despite its flaws, the beautiful biomes and inviting atmosphere hint at untapped potential. With renewed focus and feedback, Generation Exile could deliver an experience where depth matches its visual allure. But for now, its promise remains just out of reach.


GAME RATING & AGE RECOMMENDATION


Game Rating: 5.8/10 – Generation Exile has a stunning solarpunk aesthetic and intriguing premise, but poor map design, unclear mechanics, and illusory choice systems undermine the strategic depth needed to make survival management engaging.

Recommended Age: 12+ with parental guidance for older children (14+), as the game contains minimal violence (crew member death mentioned), text-heavy dialogue, and mechanics that require strategic thinking and patience; younger players may find the complex resource management and frustrating interface design discouraging.


GEMINI AI SUMMARY


Generation Exile is an indie space survival and city-building game set aboard a generation ship, blending strategic resource management with solarpunk visual aesthetics. The game tasks players with the role of Caretaker, managing crew members and building structures across hexagonal maps representing different biomes to ensure the colony's survival during its journey to a new human settlement. While the game impresses with its distinctive, colorful art direction—featuring animations and a cohesive visual identity rare in science fiction games—it struggles significantly with core gameplay mechanics and design philosophy. The primary complaint centers on overly restrictive, cramped maps that force repetitive building strategies and prevent meaningful strategic planning, effectively turning sophisticated colony management into a confined spatial puzzle. Additionally, the game's character system and dialogue choices appear mechanically shallow, with traits and dialogue decisions seemingly having no real impact on gameplay outcomes, leaving players with a sense that their choices are illusory. The narrative, delivered through character dialogue and text, attempts intellectual depth but often feels artificially complex and AI-generated in tone. The resource management system, particularly in waste handling, offers limited player agency—once storage capacity is full, the only option is to build redundant structures rather than delete or modify existing ones. Task management boils down to simple arithmetic, devoid of nuance or meaningful interaction between characters. The review concludes that while the potential for a compelling game exists within the game's framework and atmosphere, poor design decisions—cramped maps, unclear mechanics, non-functional narrative choice systems, and lack of interface clarity—consistently undermine strategic depth and player agency. The reviewer criticizes the transition from early access without sufficient refinement, suggesting that the game's solarpunk wrapper merely conceals frustrating, shallow mechanics beneath an appealing visual identity.

bottom of page