Contains some indelible pixelated images and properly spooky sound bites but is ultimately let down by the obtuse objectives and derivative visual and narrative design (Lovecraft? Silent Hill?? The Lighthouse??? It's all here!). Didn't dislike this but it just felt sort of blah. Had atmosphere to spare but in service of paper-thin lore, obvious 'routine' gameplay, and a terribly misguided final act decision.

The conceit behind Supermassive Games’ body of horror games was a noble one to begin with. The simple idea of a playable slasher film pushed to the extreme; taking after the likes of “choose your own adventure” novels but most notably the interactive dramas of David Cage- which at this point stand as some of the most potent pieces of camp entertainment the medium has seen (that’s another conversation though). With Until Dawn they delivered on this promise with a game that was effectively curated in its tone and pacing, balancing between the joyful excesses of the genre with some genuinely visceral gnarliness (no doubt borrowing influence from Larry Fessenden who has a starring role in the game and had a pronounced hand in the writer’s room). After the game’s success, Supermassive went on to produce “The Dark Pictures Anthology” which was in essence a collection of ‘Until Dawn’ clones with what essentially felt like half the budget, production time, and length. The ambition had me excited but within the first hour of playing ‘Man of Medan’ I realized just how short it falls from their potential after how good Until Dawn was. Fast forward to now and we’re on ‘episode four’ of ‘season one’ of this project and its safe to say that Supermassive is utterly washed. I think I gave a lot of credit towards the bigger vision they were aspiring to but at this point I simply don’t have the patience for this brand of lazy, copy-paste development anymore- especially after seeing the refreshingly moderate effort placed into their spiritual successor to Until Dawn, 'The Quarry'.

Much of the appeal of horror to me is its sheer devotion to sensory affect and how far it can tease the participator, whether it be a film, novel, or video game. I believe with the latter medium we’re able to gauge the most potent application of the genre and what it can accomplish regarding the player’s interaction with the environment as well as other characters. There is literally so much you can do within the genre, so it makes it frustrating that Supermassive skimp and stumble away achieving the bare minimum almost every time. The typical slasher runs about eighty to ninety minutes so it’s shocking to me that these Dark Pictures games are en masse paced so poorly and proceed to take up an interminable six hours. It’s over an hour of gameplay for ‘The Devil In Me’ to reached its primarily location and half of that time is spent on a pointless opening set piece that acts as a tedious tutorial and also bears no real significance to the overarching story. The rest of this hour is its own dirge of setting up the ensemble’s dynamics and basic plot points in the blandest, most expositional manner possible- and rest assured reader, this is the worst and most cynical band of personalities Supermassive has conjured yet. Unfortunately, if not even Ashley Tisdale can sell the dialogue and development her character was given in House of Ashes, then Academy Award nominated Jessie Buckley certainly won’t here.

What's left beyond the uncanny valley-ass performances and the expressionless blocking in the cutscenes is a game that never moves at a natural pace; instead playing like being trapped in the apathetic body of a rusting tin man at all times as well as littered with jittery camera angles and glitches and lacking any sense of motivated lighting to add visual flourish or at the very least helpfully guide the player. As all these Dark Pictures titles go, once the violence ramps up its silly attempts at raising the pulse of the player get slightly more fruitful but as in the case of all the Dark Pictures titles, it's hollow thrills with no lasting resonance. No intricacies, nothing for the inquisitive player to glean or discover of its characters or setting that won't be explained away by the dialogue or needlessly made obvious in the lore newspaper clippings cluttered around the map. At the end of the day, there really was no point in me spending time writing about this prime example of dubious corporate horror when there's no shortage of real darkness in the world, but it's defeating when these small pleasures could be crafted to be so​ much better. If anything I feel as though this is a personal epitaph for a developer that suggests I may not be returning for 'season two'.

I took dozens of screenshots during my play through of this just out of momentary instinct. Afterwards, sifting through them, I realized that like its predecessor, these images meant nothing. They stood for no greater or fulfilling purpose outside of thin, superficial aesthetic. With all its black and white filters, sepia tones, ornate set dressing, and cruise ship surroundings, Bloober Team has the talent to create visually stimulating games, but beyond that surface level appeal it falls dead in the water in literally every other department from its half baked retread in Amnesia/PT-esque gameplay tropes to its banal exploration of "themes". Somehow this rings even more hollow than its predecessor despite its attempt at this surreal profundity, opting for a more slow burn build than the first. While I can take Layers of Fear's constant lame jump scares if only for how they livened the otherwise deadening pacing, the glacial unfolding of plot (and exceedingly overlong length) here only exacerbates Bloober Team's lack of talent in creating suspense and manifesting tension. For something that is otherwise this developer's most creatively ambitious title from what I've played, the lack of focus, tact and originality to back up the thinly striking images they present only continues to expose Bloober Team as a hack exhibitor of empty aesthetics. If something like this is the future of psychological horror gameplay, god help us.

Innovative but also toothless as it relies on smug meta-commentary to get across its theme of the malleability of bodies in the video game medium. Something that is bound to date itself real quick as this angle is one of the most overplayed ideas in games. Its central gimmick becomes tired by game's end BUT makes for some really effective moments of genuinely badass excitement. Cannot deny its a very well crafted experience with an eye for acute visual detail and sound design. The best kind of minimalism, as it strips down FPS tropes down to its minute essence. Can't say I loved it but I admire what it does and I see great things for the studio with whatever they have coming next.

A glorious and genuine example of video game camp. So earnestly proud of its narrative self-seriousness, technical innovation, and dedication to a grim atmosphere that it balloons into parody. It couldn't have gone any other way with how the medium was at the time and in ways its cult status is entirely attributed to its dated ridiculousness. Always captivating even if the Norman Jayden chapters grind the pacing to a screeching halt almost every goddamn time. Shame about how the majority of the game plays out because for the first two or so hours there is a touching dynamic between Shaun and Ethan that I found palpable and frankly real. There's a mundanity to how Cage expresses the grief here that moved me. All the button prompts to drink orange juice and prepare weirdly animated pizza dinner for your son felt properly laborious in these sections and accentuated the deep sadness that underscores the game's tone (also in part due to the gorgeously varied score). And then the rest of the game happens and the entire thing devolves into trashy B-movie pulp territory. I like it that way though! There's not many other neo-noir games out there with such passion to be this wholly unbalanced and narratively ill-fated with a straight face.

A game that recklessly engages with the impossible through pure Spielbergian bombast, embodied as a cacophonous display of constantly moving variables. Unwieldy in its power and scope but undeniably contains some of the most breathtaking visual/aural spectacle ever devoted to the medium. Despite the Emporia section feeling mostly superfluous, this fixes Bioshock's drab third act dilemma and finds creative ways to open up its combat in a manner that feels intuitive and increasingly chaotic (despite some tiring enemy types). Those looking for concrete answers with its flimsy politics or consistency with its maze like plot logic may as well move on because Levine and his team are more fascinated with how these thematic devices feed into the machinations of an indelibly romantic and contemplative blockbuster mold. It feels boundary pushing in every regard and its a shame its reputation has been diminished over the years. For every bit as brutally wonky and ostentatious as it is, it's just as much genuinely poignant with its fixation on gradual world building from beginning to end. For any misgivings I may have right now its pleasures feel like the stuff of dreams.

A game of immeasurable power and relevancy. Undoubtedly something that deserves a sincere reevaluation given our contemporary woes and social unrest. With the luscious visual designs borrowing from Romanticist values and a breathtaking score by Jessica Curry, in ways this feels ahead of its time, achieving an overwhelming sense of isolation through the usual tropes of the "walking sim" genre. It's the massive scope that makes all the difference. What's told here is a richly drawn tapestry of a town populated by complicated people reckoning with complex events; the chief being the apocalypse itself. Or at least the end of "their" world as they know it. This game engages with annihilation as it is happening, and the intimate traumas and regrets and buried revelations that are unearthed when civilized society is pushed to the brink of oblivion. It is an expressively funereal and thunderous experience. My only qualms fall on what was probably time/budget restrictions; the interior designs becoming a bit monotonous and the way some of the areas bleed together can be disarming. Needless to say the game is consistently enthralling, finding various methods of connecting dread and beauty together through its aesthetic and voice talents, entwining them in poetic fashion.

An ethereal dance of light and darkness, cosmic by definition. It's rare to see a game take such a brave yet absolute trek into the unknown. Encompassing feels like the correct word.

Aggressively 2015 if that makes any sense. There's few sequences in modern horror more iconic than witnessing Hayden Panettiere, bearing only a towel and a dash of courage, fight off a masked clown lunatic in a labyrinth-esque lodge, consistently escaping his clutches by a hair only to face yet another obstacle in the way. The choice-based gimmick lends itself to fascinating philosophical readings but what interests me the most is how the game's overall framework of being a playable slasher/creature feature deconstructs cinematic language and reworks it to fit with how a player's logistical instincts interprets environmental clues and moments of empathy allowing for complete interactivity and engagement with their choices. There are parts of this that are absolutely excellent even if its first half struggles to maintain footing. Its stark winter aesthetic and clever use of fixed angles traps the player (and the characters they play) in an almost oppressive box of looming mortality. The developers execute this with intensely calculated and visceral visual control, cleverly stacking jump scares, eerily washed out lighting, and tonal shifts with ease. The second half didn't come to be as jarring as before because of how seamless the character progression was and how fluidly everything moves along. When this ensemble transformed from being insufferable and needlessly cruel to being some of the most strong willed protagonists I've ever seen in the genre, it feels like a miracle at work. Some of the stuff here remains as effective as I remember although performance issues such as awkward character model gestures and janky frame rate did hamper the immersion. I'm also not much of a fan of the recaps between episodes but there's a special charm to this game's dated nature. iI's something I'll probably end up returning to again and again in the future until something dethrones it as the prime choice-based horror adventure.

2019

David Lynch was a mistake. Despite a stirring soundtrack and a solid lead performance, shit's dull as rocks. An endless black void of a game, which is the worst something can be.

Has no business being as long as it is and a game like this doesn't quite need QTE events as constant as they are but the sheer chaotic energy present in almost every element of its design from beginning to end makes the entire journey worth it. It's beautiful, garish, and provocative in its world building, extrapolation of characters and unfolding of plot. There are times when I thought I was playing a masterpiece and other times I was dumbfounded by the difficulty and occasional jankiness. It's a heavenly plunge into nonsensical titillation and makes no excuses for its narrative but that's the only way something like this could function. I adore it with slight reservations.

This is more like it. Motion controls here are far more intuitive and typical of thatgamecompany the soundtrack is lush and feels beautifully in tune with what's going on in the game. However's there has got to be a better way of incorporating a sense of progress in a game besides "light every plant up". Especially when you end up having to scour an entire area over and over again in search of that one petal buried in the fields of grass you missed. That kind of shit bogged an otherwise pleasant game down to bits along with the preachy attempts at profundity in its second half. I just wanted chill vibes. I don't need to be taught the ugliness of industry; especially when its this hammy and obvious. Thankfully with Journey the developers learned to craft these atmospheric titles without having to contain themselves to "gamey" formulas in the process.

Something I'd definitely try on VR at some point.

A lot of dumb zombie bullshit for what amounts to the custody battle for the ages! Anyways, so much of this contains strong, superficially creative threads but overall lacks the off-kilter direction and wonky tone that defined the unforgettable unpredictability of the previous entry; despite its detrimental flaws that is. However this sequel definitely feels like an attempt to gradually parse out the downright inscrutability of the first while remaining accessible enough for the masses. It is actually quite successful at that for the most part as it adopts a uniquely open world survival horror mold. It is unfortunate that much of the material that fills this mold is more of the same shit you see in most other AAA titles, but that this tries something bold from the get is interesting. Its linear portions are propulsive and slowly progressing through the open areas had its rewards. Its a shame that this gameplay loop runs its course by the midway point (you'll know exactly when lol) and by then you still have at least another eight hours of story to trudge through. This beast is just entirely too long. All in all though it remains a AAA horror blockbuster devoted to actual ideas and character development and world building so for me, that is enough to warrant a single playthrough even if it relies too much on this bland functionality over the radical artistry of the first. I doubt I'll ponder on it much after a few days but I'd recommend it to those that need something competently creepy and gratifying but unlike its predecessor, not completely oppressive and unapproachable. It's a fun time waster.

Coming off how well Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs nailed its atmosphere (despite pretty much everything else), I was pleasantly surprised with how densely thoughtful and visually immersive the gloomy Victorian steampunk vibes were handled here. The rare game that gets better and more exciting the longer you play it; and I’m sure that in retrospect I’ll find more value in how it marries its twisting, interweaving level design with the wacky cartoonish moral handwringing. For what essentially amounts to Bioshock as imagined by Grimshaw, there’s a distinct quality with how the player’s engagement with the world building explicitly informs the gradually unfolding narrative that I found inspired. The measure of a man’s worth being determined on his (justifiably enraged) penchant for chaos is all quite simplistic at the end of the day but the game’s active effort to be at least be cognizant of the player’s violent acts are heard and acknowledged.

An apex action spectacle. Misses out on the arduous challenge and provocative dynamism of the previous installment which made for an invigorating gaming experience but this makes up for it with how seamless the pacing and combat feels here. It's more superficially cinematic in every way from its sweeping soundtrack to how the grandiose bosses and level design are easier to grasp while remaining consistently bombastic and exciting to play. It definitely feels like a clean-cut blockbuster which takes away from the earnest scrappiness of the first however it hones in so well on the strengths of its predecessor that it doesn't make a difference. It's just as funny and transgressive if in different ways. Nothing feels shortchanged for those just looking for an electrifying dance between heaven, hell, and the broken sense of duality they share. The first was a bold exploration of this mythology and world but here it is a wide embrace of the chaos that encompasses it. To the uninitiated, it can be head spinning. For the rest of us, it's undeniably bliss.

This one’s a doozy. Brutally oppressive in atmosphere, with a dizzyingly labyrinthine map design and truly grotesque sound work. The way that Puppet Combo combines all these harsh elements together makes for a near-excellent title but its ultimately held back by a needlessly obfuscated gameplay loop- a survival simulator that lays out a variety of tools to utilize in an impossibly constructed field. It can at times feel defeating with how janky it is to maneuver these hallways as you run from the killer (and upon recapturing losing everything you’ve found) but by the end I was mostly won over by the inherent imperfections of the game’s design as well its patient structuring- the main objective not making itself apparent until well over a 1/3 into the story. I won’t lie when I say I had to follow a guide for much of this and despite that this remained a crushing, nerve-wracking experience to navigate as I collected supplies and crouched my way through tight vents, German expressionist rooms, and blood tinged exteriors (subliminal jump scares included!). The increasingly surreal and nightmarish aesthetic, already beaten and degraded because of its “VHS formatting” and clearly influenced by the work of Tobe Hooper, does wonders in instilling genuine dread and hopelessness in the player. I walk away with that and think back to my playthrough with fondness. Just never want to hear that animalistic screech ever again lol