This game...is something. At its core, it's a late followup to survival horror classics of the 90s -- most notably Resident Evil -- but it fails to get anything right when it comes to the gameplay. The combat is particularly boring, with the lame mutated animal enemies not posing any threat whatsoever unless they happen to spawn on top of you when you enter a room. As a result of the easy level of difficultly, and the mechanics of there being two worlds with separate inventories, there is little reason to explore, other than the fact that the game usually gives you little direction and you'll have to stumble upon the next cutscene on your own. The level design is also quite bad, with endless grey hallways you'll have to frequently double back through in both realities -- the Spencer Mansion this is not. Overall, on a gameplay level, it's bad, but forgettable. But the gameplay is not the only thing on display here.
Without exaggeration, The Ring: Terror's Realm has the worst script and translation I've seen in a video game, and, combined with some atrocious voice acting, the game becomes a so-bad-it's-good disaster that needs to be experienced to be believed.
There are only a handful of voiced cutscenes, but they are juiced for all of their entertainment value. From the opening cutscene with the deadpan "You okay, lady?" to the incredibly miscast and bored actor that later voices the chief of the CDC, these all-too-rare moments are easily the highlight of the game. The rest of the game still has absolutely baffling dialogue, though, even if it's text-based. Meg, our dullard protagonist, asks for clarification regarding every bit of instructions or information she receives, to the point that it seems intentionally bad. One of my favorite moments occurs when she finds grenades in a refrigerator and remarks to herself: "I need to load these into the grenade launcher, right?" What else would they be used for?
The greatest line of dialogue in the entire game, however, occurs when Meg, immediately after being told she needs to find a monkey within 15 minutes, confidently states: "I don't want to die, so I'll find the monkey within 15 minutes."
I would be remiss if I didn't mention the music. The music is not necessarily bad on its own, though perhaps a bit ill-fitting for the atmosphere of the game. The problem is that the individual tracks are incredibly short and are on loop constantly. The first hour or so of the game, you'll be hearing the same 30 or so seconds of MIDI piano chords and strings over...and over...and over...until it is ingrained in your mind. The rest of the music is not quite as grating, except when you reach the basement, where a hilariously overdramatic string stab will play every few seconds, even when nothing is happening. I don't know what exactly they were going for with the soundtrack, but it certainly contributes to the fever dream of it all.
There are other things that I could discuss, like the batshit story that tosses Ringu and Total Recall into a blender to create something truly incomprehensible, but that's best left to experience for yourself. If you're in the mood for a terrible survival horror game with plenty of ironic value, there's nothing quite like this out there. In total, it will only take you 4-5 hours from the beginning to its perfunctory conclusion.
Without exaggeration, The Ring: Terror's Realm has the worst script and translation I've seen in a video game, and, combined with some atrocious voice acting, the game becomes a so-bad-it's-good disaster that needs to be experienced to be believed.
There are only a handful of voiced cutscenes, but they are juiced for all of their entertainment value. From the opening cutscene with the deadpan "You okay, lady?" to the incredibly miscast and bored actor that later voices the chief of the CDC, these all-too-rare moments are easily the highlight of the game. The rest of the game still has absolutely baffling dialogue, though, even if it's text-based. Meg, our dullard protagonist, asks for clarification regarding every bit of instructions or information she receives, to the point that it seems intentionally bad. One of my favorite moments occurs when she finds grenades in a refrigerator and remarks to herself: "I need to load these into the grenade launcher, right?" What else would they be used for?
The greatest line of dialogue in the entire game, however, occurs when Meg, immediately after being told she needs to find a monkey within 15 minutes, confidently states: "I don't want to die, so I'll find the monkey within 15 minutes."
I would be remiss if I didn't mention the music. The music is not necessarily bad on its own, though perhaps a bit ill-fitting for the atmosphere of the game. The problem is that the individual tracks are incredibly short and are on loop constantly. The first hour or so of the game, you'll be hearing the same 30 or so seconds of MIDI piano chords and strings over...and over...and over...until it is ingrained in your mind. The rest of the music is not quite as grating, except when you reach the basement, where a hilariously overdramatic string stab will play every few seconds, even when nothing is happening. I don't know what exactly they were going for with the soundtrack, but it certainly contributes to the fever dream of it all.
There are other things that I could discuss, like the batshit story that tosses Ringu and Total Recall into a blender to create something truly incomprehensible, but that's best left to experience for yourself. If you're in the mood for a terrible survival horror game with plenty of ironic value, there's nothing quite like this out there. In total, it will only take you 4-5 hours from the beginning to its perfunctory conclusion.