I love noir. I’ll take all kinds: the hardboiled detective, the seedy crime story, neo noir, classic pulp – you name it, I’m buying. So when Mouse: P.I. for Hire sauntered onto my screen the way Ilsa walks into Rick’s in Casablanca, I was pretty excited about it. But noir isn’t just an aesthetic to be thrown on like an old coat as you’re leaving your office at the behest of a leggy blonde. While Mouse: P.I. for Hire clearly understands the style and tropes of classic noir films and novels, as well as 1930s cartoons more broadly, it doesn’t seem to get why those things are there, or how they are used to tell compelling stories. By fusing a hardboiled detective mystery with a fast, retro-style FPS, developer Fumi Games has made a shooter that is thematically incoherent, with the apparent aspirations of its story contradicted at every point by the actual action. Of all the Steam Libraries in all the PCs in all the world, Mouse: P.I. for Hire walked into mine. And I wish I liked it more than I do.
Mouse follows Jack Pepper, a private eye in a world where everyone is a mouse, after Wanda Fuller from the Mouseburg Herald sets him on the case of a missing magician. As you’d expect, that spirals into a much larger conspiracy that includes an attempt on a mayoral candidate’s life and racially motivated mouse-on-mouse violence as bigger mice oppress the smaller shrews. Same as it ever was, even in Mouseburg, and the requisite twists and turns you’d expect from any good detective story make this tale solid enough.
What bothers me, however, is how overly-referential so much of it is. This is a world of mice, so everything is about cheese. Everything. A bad guy? He’s a cheeselegger. Run into a lady mouse with a sultry voice? It’ll be described as “gorgonzola piccante slapped on a mozzarella platter.” Someone need to assure you they’re telling the truth? They’ll swear on Maw-Maw’s cottage curds. This is charming initially. Then it never stops. Everything is a reference to the fact that everyone is a mouse and mice like cheese – and when it’s not, instead it’ll be a reference to an old cartoon, or the fact that this is a video game. I should have probably guessed the former when one of the first things I saw was a steamboat named Willie, but at least that and the spinach power-up that gives you Popeye arms is cute. Recalling the Igor/Eye-gor joke from Young Frankenstein? Not so much.
And it doesn’t end there. Run into a series of robot boss fights? Jack will say that he hopes they don’t “rule of three” this thing, which, of course, is exactly what happens. If you’re looking for the Cheeselegging Foreman, Jack will quip that he doesn’t look like much of a boss… more like a mini-boss, and then laugh at his own joke. The voice actors, led by Troy Baker, do an admirable job with what they have, but nothing in Mouseburg is allowed to just be. It has to be a mouse reference or a (literally) cheesy one-liner or a reference to something else. It’s hard to care about anything in Mouse: PI For Hire because it never stops making jokes about everything. It just wants to remind you of other, better things. Surely that’s enough, right?
At least the shooting is better. This is the latest in a wave of “boomer shooters” inspired by old school FPSes like Doom or Quake, and it’s a decent one at that. You start with a pistol and Jack’s fists, but you’ll soon acquire a shotgun, dynamite, a James Gun (which is just a Tommy gun), and more unique stuff like the Devarnisher, which shoots what looks like Elmer’s glue that melts the flesh from your enemies’ bones, leaving only a skeleton. Throw in stuff like a double jump, dash, spinning tail for hovering, and a slide, and Jack’s got some stylish moves when the bad guys show up. This ain’t Quake, but it does feel good. It doesn’t hurt that all of it, from reload animations to random conversations, is rendered in an absolutely gorgeous black and white mix of spritework and 3D models. The worldbuilding may be thin, but Mouse: P.I. for Hire is still dressed to the nines.
Even here, though, I have issues. Weapons can feel weak, especially the shotgun – it’s got the audio kick of a popgun, and there’s a strange disconnect to seeing something that sounds like a kid’s toy blow off some poor mouse’s head as you paint the white of the world with the black ichor that spews out of his neck. Enemies mostly come out of doors marked with a skull that you can’t enter, robbing those areas of anything remotely resembling a sense of place. Levels also really like to pull the “we’re going to lock you in a room and throw baddies at you until they’re dead or you are” schtick a little too much for my taste. None of this is ever gamebreaking, mind; the combat is fundamentally good enough to carry you to the end of the roughly 12-hour campaign, but sometimes it feels like being at a show that’s never quite bad enough to leave. And at least on the normal difficulty, health items are so generous there’s rarely a challenge.
Like any good boomer shooter, there are plenty of secrets to find – newspapers, cash, weapon upgrade schematics, baseball cards, and so on – fragile walls to blow up, and even locked safes to open with your tail, which pulls double duty as a lockpick. Some of those locks are on a time limit or must be solved in a limited number moves, and you only get one shot at the good stuff they hold; others are so easy you could probably solve them by letting an actual mouse run across your keyboard. It’s very jarring.
Once you’re done with a level, it’s back to the hub, which encompasses Jack’s office, the local bar, store, weapon upgrade shop, and so on. My favorite thing here is the baseball card minigame you can play at the bar. You’ll switch between pitching and being at bat, using the cards in your hand (players and abilities) to try and score as many runs as you can. It’s fun! What I like less is the whole “being a detective” thing, mostly because I never got to actually do it. Any clues you find will be pinned to Jack’s caseboard, and once you get them there, Jack will just intuit where to go. No work on your part required. What’s the point of being a gumshoe if all the answers are handed right to me?
That brings me to one of my major problems with Mouse: P.I. for Hire. Look, I hate to be the guy who brings up “ludonarrative dissonance” in a video game review in The Year of Our Lord 2026, and if you’re rolling your eyes right now, I can’t blame you. But it’s an actual issue here. Jack Cheddar is a P.I. who kills more people in a single mission than Phillip Marlowe has in every book Raymond Chandler ever wrote combined. I don’t care how corrupt the cops are: a private detective can’t break into a police station and slaughter them en masse and then go about his day. In one particularly nonsensical scenario, Jack inadvertently burns down an opera house to save a guy running for mayor, and he ends up fighting… an opera singer? And shoots her? Is she dead? Did I just kill an actress for being angry I burned down her workplace? If I didn’t, have I left her alive and unconscious inside a burning building? Mouse: P.I. for Hire doesn’t tell me, and doesn’t seem to care either way.
None of this is to say that noir cannot or should not be violent, but that violence usually has a purpose. Much of Elliot Chaze’s seminal novel Black Wings Has My Angel is about robbing an armored car, but the book builds to that – it’s a big deal when it finally happens, and the characters have to reckon with the fallout once it does. Jack Pepper, on the other hand, is a walking catastrophe and nobody in Mouseburg seems to care. He largely gets to go about his business and is portrayed as a down-on-his-luck everyman P.I., like the characters who inspired him, when he is, at best, a mass murderer. Does that make for a more fun video game? Maybe. But it’s bad noir, and a worse detective tale. In the stories Mouse: P.I. for Hire references, violence is an unfortunate but unavoidable part of the human experience that shatters the people it touches. Here, it’s just entertainment, and that weakens the whole concept.
“But Will,” you might say, “this is a goofy, Looney Tunes FPS. Why should I care about any of that?” And the answer is because Mouse wants you to. It wants you to believe that this is important. You spend a lot of time talking about these characters, about putting together the clues you need to get to the bottom of what’s going on, and about Jack’s motivation for doing the work (he allegedly needs the money, which both leads to him taking cases and doesn’t track when I’m super rich from all the killing). All of that makes a lot less sense after you’ve gone to Tinsel Bros. Studios and single-handedly eradicated the mob hanging out there, all while doing a bunch of Tomb Raider/Indiana Jones/Conan the Barbarian impressions as everyone says you should be an actor. Give this guy a week on the job as chief of police and Mouseburg would be the safest city in the world because nobody would be left alive to commit crimes in the first place. It’s hard to buy into Jack as the regular guy who needs to gather evidence I’m told he is when he’s just wiped out the local police department, you know?
