It's an extremely English sort of end of the world; one that happens absent much complain or evident brutality or shouting in a calm Shropshire valley in the mid-1980s. There might be odd signs that not all things are correct, but rather this is an end of the world where the exploited people seem to have unobtrusively vanished, leaving a radio booming in the garden, entryways opened, a van left open in favor of the street. By taking motivation from an exceptionally British vein of science fiction, and most particularly the fifties books of John Wyndham, the group at The Chinese Room have made a dystopian amusement dissimilar to some other, as bolted into a place and period as Kubrick's 2001, the Quatermass motion pictures or Tarkovsky's movies of Solaris and Stalker.
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Run it through a translator and post it right back? Nope. Not this time. FLAG.