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Recent reviews by Ross

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Showing 1-10 of 123 entries
7 people found this review helpful
7.3 hrs on record
It’s a familiar scene from a revenge flick: the protagonist is out doing x when he sees a column of smoke rising from his home. He rushes back, but we know it’s too late. Gunbrella's unfortunate hero finds his wife murdered and his newborn missing, with only a single clue at the scene of the crime: the murder weapon. It’s a strange device; a gun doubling as an umbrella. Our hero takes it, and sets off on a fugitive’s journey to uncover the weapon’s history, in the hope that it will lead him to his child.

I liked Gunbrella, but I didn’t like it enough. It’s a game that feels like it’s so close to being that much better but never quite gets there. No single element really sings, feeling untapped, under-served. It’s true of its weapon upgrade system, the currency you collect, and the world you’re introduced to. They all feel like they need to be given more breathing room, because as it is, in a game as brief and cursory as this one, it's difficult to invest in them.

Taking place in an intriguing steampunk world, you use a railway to journey between towns, slowly uncovering a conspiracy involving death cults, dwindling resources, political corruption, and the end of the world. A pretty tasty set of ingredients for a decent neo-noir, but like most other aspects of Gunbrella, it never coheres into something truly satisfying.

Exploration is stymied by the fact that you’re moved on so swiftly, and there’s never much reason to return to previous areas unless the plot demands it. Sure, you could go around collecting currency to upgrade your weapon, and sure, you could complete the odd quest. Problem is, there's little incentive to do so. You always sense that the game is moving too quickly to its final destination for any of these to be rewarding. Is there any real benefit to maxing out the titular gunbrella if I'm only going to spend a few hours with it?

Probably not.

Which is a shame, because Gunbrella is fun. Really! The side-scrolling combat is meaty and engaging, with some clever quirks, and the game has a commendably irreverent sense of humour. The world’s bleak, the protagonist’s journey bloody, but Gunbrella never takes itself too seriously. It also has its heart in the right place, and there's a real ecological anxiety cutting through that feels current and authentic.

In a way, the game might’ve worked better without the bells and whistles—if it just focused on a linear, narrative experience, instead of indulging a series of diversions that only ever feel half-baked. As it is, Gunbrella is a fun, well-made little outing, but it’s too watered-down and unfocused to really stick the landing.
Posted 8 April. Last edited 9 April.
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2 people found this review helpful
6.0 hrs on record
Dark Forces is very good at being Star Wars. Equally, Nightdive Studios is very good at remastering classic games. The two have come together for this latest release, which sees Nightdive upscaling Dark Forces' textures, enhancing its lighting, and allowing it to run on 4k at up to 120 fps, all while preserving the game so that it plays exactly like it did in 1995.

The bias is strong with this one—Dark Forces was one of the first games I ever played. My memories of it are confined to a tiny monitor at my cousin’s house. She was a lot older and living with her boyfriend, who was nuts on Star Wars. So was I. We bonded pretty easily over that, and I flitted between Dark Forces and Yoda Stories whenever I was there. I didn’t own a PC or a console yet, so it was crazy thrilling to find a medium that was exactly the fantasy I wanted: to live Star Wars. Those are good memories.

The sharpest memory is of Dark Forces’ first level, where new protagonist Kyle Katarn must sneak into an imperial base to steal the Death Star plans. It isn’t a big mission, but it felt like it, and what clocks in at around twenty minutes would stretch into an hour or more. Mostly because I was rubbish at it, but also because I didn't want to leave. The little Imperial station etched out of a rock seemed as big as Lucas' galaxy.

From the second you’re dropped into the game, you know you’re in the Star Wars universe. It’s immediate in the grey Imperial texture palette, pepped with harsh fluorescent lights and streams of incomprehensible computer screens. The pixelated Death Star. Even now I’m struck by what LucasArts achieved, just two years after Doom.

Dark Forces benefits from a reasonably interesting story, narrative-based objectives, and a succession of diverse locations. Instead of taking us back to the usual star systems, Dark Forces sends us to whole new worlds with their own little stories. A besieged city in purple twilight, hazy red mines, the shady bustle of Nar Shaddaa—it’s impressive how often Dark Forces elects to create something new. There’s not a Tattooine in sight.

A big part of the fun is following the game’s thread, as Katarn and his pilot pal Jan Ors investigate a top secret weapons project being developed by the Empire. As a pair of reluctant heroes more out of the Han Solo mould than Luke Skywalker, it’s easy to see how their legacy endures today. Doom and its sequel are both abstract experiences, but Dark Forces immerses you in Katarn and Ors’ quest, mapping the trajectory of the game to a comprehensible plot.

Of course, it all comes down to the shooting. Blasting fascists is always fun, but through some ingenious design, Dark Forces perfectly translated the frenetic pew pew of the films to the computer screen. The stormtroopers and Imperial officers look and sound the part, seamlessly transplanting you to that galaxy far, far away each time they yell, “Stop, rebel scum!”—and collapse into a heap of scorched white metal once pew pewed.

Huge props go to Nightdive for so artfully producing this remaster. It looks great, being both sharper and cleaner than before. But depending on what you fancy, you can toggle the game’s settings so that it plays how you want it to, whether that’s closer to the original or something a bit more modern. The cutscenes have been spruced up as well, and there’s even an extra level that was excised from the game by LucasArts. Apparently the original opening missing, The Avenger—set aboard a Star Destroyer—would have offered young me a slightly different introduction to the first person shooter. But only slightly.

Unfortunately, you will have to reckon with the cost of the title. It's £25, which is A Lot for a 30-year-old remaster (by comparison, the original is £5). I'm not sure where they plucked that number from, but it's disproportionate to what's on offer.

Dark Forces is an interesting chapter in the early years of the first person shooter. It’s not always fun; navigation is often its own puzzle, and there’s a stage late in the game with a sequence of locked doors that drove me to the edge (and from there to a guide). But as an experience the game offers an insight into where the genre was going, rapidly and smartly iterating on Doom’s brilliant formula, as well as opening the way to a sequel that easily ranks as one of the best shooters ever made. Now, presumably Nightdive is looking for a new project, so... Dark Forces 2, anyone?
Posted 9 March. Last edited 8 April.
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8 people found this review helpful
2 people found this review funny
2.6 hrs on record
The man in the sled turned. Inside his five o’clock shadow was a lunatic’s grin. It’s the last thing I wanted to see. Aside from the four dogs, there was just the two of us, embarking and in his case re-embarking on the path of a scientific expedition in the Arctic.

I didn’t know what I expected to find at the end of it, but that smile, and a few cryptic asides, did not portend anything good. The deeper you go into the bleak snow, the more you start to wonder if you want to reach that end at all.

That Which Gave Chase is an indie game that bills itself as a “first-person dog sledding thriller”, which I think undersells it a smidgen. This indie gem boasts a clever, experimental narrative that uses smash cuts to convey time and distance. It also has the effect of disorientating us a fair bit, never allowing you to feel too comfortable.

My favourite trend in the indie horror game genre is the embrace of the polygonal weirdness of the PS1, with its sharp angles and often unsettling, phantasmagorical ambience. For That Which Gave Chase, it’s a choice that gets the best results for its frost-bitten dread. The world’s sparse in the way it needs to be, and its rare inhabitants, like the deer, can quickly turn to nightmare depending on the light.

The gameplay keeps it simple, a notch or two above walking simulator. You’re the musher, guiding your dogs through the endless, unforgiving white. Balance is key, as it’s all too easy to tip and provoke the consternation of your companion. Or a dice with death, depending on how agitated those deer are.

There’s a sense throughout that they don’t want you on this land, and the more your companion tells of the previous expedition, the more you start to realise why that might be the case.

He’s an enigma. An obtuse scientist whose goals, shrouded throughout, touch on the profane, on madness. Yet you plough on, occasionally stopping to check the way points and investigate derelict cabins. You know your companion has been here before, and you’re left wondering what role he had to play in its disarray. The thoughts sit uneasily.

Yet you plough on.

The narrative is mostly conveyed through notes and sparse dialogue, leaving you to stitch it together yourself. I’m not sure I had a handle on it by the end, but that felt like the point. I was in a place I shouldn’t have been, working on the dime of someone whose money I should never have taken.

Before long, I just knew I needed to get out. If the land would let me go.

You’re at least armed with a rifle for a chunk of it, the act of reloading managing to be a tension-ratcheting process. Still, your opponents, such as they are, know the land, and combat sequences are an act of survival, not instances of empowerment.

Always the goal is to survive. To plough on.

Of course, you won’t be ploughing on for too long. That Which Gave Chase is a very manageable fifty to sixty minutes of gameplay. Brief but darkly memorable, it’ll see you through a cuppa, but it’ll stick with you long after that.
Posted 23 July, 2023. Last edited 23 July, 2023.
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5 people found this review helpful
14.8 hrs on record
Boltgun is the newest videogame in the Warhammer 40k universe and the latest in the boomer shooter genre. It’s a combination so agreeable, I’m not sure anyone’s going to object to it. Pixelated enemies gushing pixelated gore, meted out by the thundering might of a Space Marine? Match made in heaven.

So, why is Boltgun so damn vexing?

Auroch Digital’s game is a sequel to 2011’s Space Marine. We play as Malum Caedo, admirably voiced by Rahul Kohli, who’s dropped into the world of Graia to deal with yet another Chaos invasion. As the lone survivor, he thuds his way through the wrecked world to seal the Chaos rift, and slit the throat of the Chaos Sorcerer responsible. So far, so 40k.

And that's your plot, that's it. Maybe that’s not a problem; after all, it’s just flimsy pretence to hang a first person shooter on. The real meat of the game is in blasting, stomping, and hacking your way through the forces of Chaos and their demons. It’s here Boltgun elevates itself, and you feel every clunk of Caedo's armour, the grinding of the plates, the stomp of the boots. The violence is just as crunchy and visceral, and your kills, especially with the chainsword, are acts of satisfying brutality. For the God Emperor, and all that.

Of course, Boltgun's real selling point is its retro aesthetics, oozing an industrial grunge that brings 40k's cursed cosmos to life. Every outpouring of guts and viscera reminds us what a holy blend 40k and the 90s throwback shooter really is. The coarse muzzle flare, the dark and foreboding cathedrals of chaos - it’s a stunning apocalypse.

But there’s a flipside. Sure, the shooty bits work a charm, but it’s the aesthetics that do the heavy lifting. Beyond that, there’s actually not a whole lot here.

Take the level design. Most settings are a sprawling mess of indistinguishable corridors, all in search of a key to move to the next area. The game doesn’t bother to help guide you along the path, resulting in far too much time wandering back and forth and, occasionally, getting lost. I get that it’s a retro shooter, but the overreliance on keys to progress is hardly a compelling gameplay feature.

These corridors invariably lead to huge arenas with a lot of vertical, but little thought has gone into their layouts. Once you get inside, you’re given the order to purge the enemy before you can move on, but given the scale of the arenas, there’s a lot of running around just finding someone to shoot. The arenas pull directly from the modern incarnation of Doom, but at least there the enemies sought you out. Too often did I find myself running around in endless loops, trying to find that last straggler so as to end the purge.

It doesn’t bring me any joy to say it, but the level design is just poor; a chaotic mess of underused space and maddening layouts, offering little in the way of variety. I kept thinking of Dusk, another boomer shooter, but one that wasn't beholden to the past, setting out to immerse itself in the eras aesthetics, but pushing new boundaries of its own.

Boltgun, despite a few modern flourishes, doesn't do any of that.

Perhaps the most ill-conceived addition is the servo-skull - something like a ghoulish drone - following you around. Its purpose is to relay mission objectives, but it’s done purely through text. The caption boxes carrying that text vanish far too quickly, a problem made worse when they pop up during combat. It’s blink and you miss it stuff, which is a real problem when that servo-skull is the only thing driving you forward.

I previously noted that Rahul Kohli provides the voice of our fascist protagonist, but only if you choose to taunt your enemies. Otherwise he’s got nothing to say. Zip. That seems like a foolish decision; it's the servo-skull who needed a voice, if only so we could hear its instructions without having to speed read the caption boxes. And who knows? Maybe it’d have helped develop some kind of bond between protagonist and drone, just to give us something to care about.

Having read all that, you might be thinking I hate Boltgun. I don't. The gunplay is brutal and satisfying, and the hellish look of the thing is gorgeous. But they aren’t enough to disguise the game’s overt failings. It’s an average game carried on the back of its looks, and while it earns the distinction of being one of the better 40k videogames, its place in that ever-growing pantheon isn't especially high.

Perhaps it's time to move from Space Marines.
Posted 22 June, 2023. Last edited 23 June, 2023.
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3 people found this review helpful
12.9 hrs on record
I’m always cautious about nostalgia. It’s so easy to let fond memories get in the way of appreciating something new, something a little bit different. I’ve never thought of myself as a precious player, someone quick to bemoan why the next new thing is not like the old, outdated thing I loved as a kid.

Still, Crash Bandicoot was one of the first games I ever played. First as a demo of the second level, Jungle Rollers, which I played over and over, despite its linear simplicity, imagining what the rest of must be like. It was glorious. So glorious I spent my weekends drawing maps, planning levels, and devising bosses, all to create my ideal sequel. The official sequels, of course, were a lot better than my scribbles, and my adoration of Crash extended all the way to Crash Team Racing, a game I’ve probably played more than any other.

Interest waned with the lacklustre PlayStation 2 instalments, and that was sort of that. Things change, come to an end, yada yada.

But then Crash Bandicoot 4: It’s About Time arrived with a wink, retconning the PS2 instalments and picking up where the third game, Warped, left off. Smart move!

Its premise goes something like this: N. Tropy and Cortex manage to escape the time in which they were trapped, destroying the malevolent Uka Uka mask in the process, then concoct an appropriately mad scheme to control the multiverse. That’s pretty par for the course for today’s pop culture fiction, but as a Crash Bandicoot premise, it works.

There’s a host of worlds and times, although in theory they don’t really differ all that much from Warped. There’s still a set of prehistoric levels and even a pirate ship. All the other locations could easily find their way into Warped, too.

The main difference is the inclusion of other characters, which are predicated on a cause-and-effect basis. When Crash’s obstacle is cleared in one level, a later level is opened up to explain how that happened from someone else’s perspective. It’s a cool idea, but it's not one that’s properly fleshed out. More of a bonus than anything.

Although the palette of the levels could have come from the previous games, something felt off about Crash Bandicoot 4, and I’m going to do a bad job of explaining why without sounding precious. Despite the ability to switch characters and try out different sorts of gameplay, the feel of it all never truly captured Crash Bandicoot’s spirit. The look of it was there (sometimes; a few plant monsters look stupid), but the essence, while appropriately modernised, feels like one of the lesser Pixar movies.

The game's tone just feels dumb.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the writing, which is just incredibly lame. No, Cortex Strikes Back and Warped weren’t Shakespeare, but they never fell this flat. The lines are awful, and I don’t think it’s because I’ve outgrown the target audience.

Crash Bandicoot 4 is at its best in the gameplay department, which really is a thrill. Freed of the noughties mad intent to make everything nonlinear, we return to a game with a single, side-scrolling track through a level, but with plenty of variation every time you turn a corner. The inclusion of the quantum masks – phasing out objects, a powerful spin attack, slowing time, and anti-gravity – is the real highlight. There’s no shortage of creative ways in which the game deploys these, with each one finding a particular purpose during the game’s boss battles.

That said, I found the game far too frantic, especially in later levels. It just never stops in its relentless bombardment of enemies and moving platforms. And as the quantum masks become more entangled(!) with the gameplay, the more chaotic the game becomes – and the more frustrating.

And boy, is Crash Bandicoot 4 frustrating. This is a supremely difficult game. My initial instinct was to shoot for 100%, which is always fun in these sorts of platformers. Find all the gems, smash all the boxes, whatever. I gave up on this after the first world, as I’d all too often reach the end of a level, having painstakingly smashed every box in sight, only to discover I’d missed at most two or three. Why? Because they’re hidden out of sight, and no amount of shifting the camera will reveal them. For the developers, it might well increase longevity, but it’s hardly a fun way to keep players invested.

There’s just way too much, and I haven’t even mentioned the inverted levels it expects you to do for full completion! And I won’t, because just like in the game, I simply can’t be arsed.

Crash Bandicoot 4: It’s About Time is a lot of things. Too many, inhibiting its ability to do them all particularly well. I’d recommend it for the bursts of creativity in the boss battles and the masks. Or if you’re particularly masochistic. It might be better than the PS2 instalments, but there's a long way to go in matching the original trilogy.

Then again, maybe I'm just letting fond memories get the better of me.
Posted 20 March, 2023. Last edited 20 March, 2023.
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23 people found this review helpful
3.0 hrs on record
It’s hard to be objective about Murder House. I started playing a couple of nights ago, fairly late, and stopped like, thirty, forty minutes into the main section. To sleep. Only Murder House didn’t really end for me when I closed the Steam Deck; it fed right into my nightmares, and I was back inside that house, albeit with a different murderer.

It was ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ weird.

Some of that’s obviously down to how effective the game is at conjuring horror. The eponymous house, where a small film crew are doing a piece on the serial killer who once dwelled there, is brilliantly realised. The PS1 style graphics create a setting that feels appropriately hemmed in, grotty, and antagonistic. It brought me back to Rockstar's dark masterpiece, Manhunt, which likewise offered no refuge from its unrelenting brutality.

Part Resident Evil, part Silent Hill, and part just a whole lot of love for the slasher genre, Murder House achieves exactly what it needs to, even if I wasn't convinced by the closing sequences.

Still, it was a hell of a nightmare.
Posted 4 January, 2023.
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10 people found this review helpful
27.7 hrs on record (18.1 hrs at review time)
"I know you’re here. I’ve done this countless times before.”

On the ice world of Leng, dream is more real than reality, and memory a shadow of both. It’s in this remote place a scout shuttle crashes, carrying a Replika, called Elster, and her human commander, Ariane, otherwise known as a Gestalt. But when Elster awakens, Ariane is gone. Disappeared somewhere within a mining complex called Sierpinski-23 that has, in some arcane, insidious way, unravelled into blood and madness.

The deeper Elster goes in search of Ariane, the more surreal, and more dangerous, the mining facility becomes.

SIGNALIS is one of those rare games that achieves almost everything it sets out to do. It’s a third person survival horror in the vein of Resident Evil, right down to the precious safe rooms and universal item boxes, but its identity is totally unique. It sounds and looks impeccable; an aesthetic so singular, every element has been treated with precision and care to create an unforgettable tableau.

That includes the story. It builds a relatively fresh science fiction universe from environmental storytelling alone. You come to quickly understand your role in one of the two competing factions is little more than a mere cog in the machinery of war. That grinding loneliness haunts you just as much as the malfunctioning Replikas now stalking the halls of the facility.

It’s these Replikas, in their many forms, that will prove your main adversary. From their synthetic cries to their shuddering, emaciated movements, the Replikas are properly scary. Sure, they can cause some real pain if they get close enough, but they’re an awful mirror to yourself – a splintered consciousness, infected by memories that aren’t their own, unsure of who, or what, they even are. The distance between the enemy and Elster is small, shrinking the deeper you go, as metal gives way to flesh.

As the game moves towards its finale, the narrative becomes ever more abstract, something not unlike the closing episodes of Neon Genesis Evangelion. There are a few points where that abstraction, and the heavy use of symbolism, become almost overwhelming, but I think that’s the point. The world of SIGNALIS is one of total psychosis, and losing contact with its reality is somewhat appropriate.

But whilst I may not be certain of exactly what went on down in Sierpinski-23, I am certain SIGNALIS is one of the best games of the year. It's a terrifying marvel.
Posted 31 December, 2022. Last edited 1 January, 2023.
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3 people found this review helpful
21.5 hrs on record
As more than one commentator has pointed out, if Dead Space was Alien, then Dead Space 2 is absolutely Aliens. The claustrophobic isolation of the Ishimura has been switched out for the Sprawl, a space station orbiting what’s left of Saturn’s moon of Titan, continuing the themes of the first game, where humanity seems to believe its only chance of survival is to destroy.

The sequel eschews the first’s slow burn to throw you right into the chaos. Where the Ishimura had been devastated before you arrived, the Sprawl is still in the midst of falling to the Necromorphs. Cue bloody howls and general devastation. It’s effective, but the proximity of so many people, disembowelled though they may be, detracts from the previous game’s persistent dread.

A lot of that is a result of the game’s shift from survival horror to one focused more an action, hence less Alien, more Aliens. That’s fine, honestly. I preferred the former, but the action here is executed with visceral panache. It’s loads of fun, moving effortlessly between set pieces of increasing danger. Even if the Necromorphs persist as visually uninteresting enemies, I enjoyed the heck out of lopping off their limbs.

The game’s biggest problem is Isaac Clarke. The once largely silent protagonist now cannot shut up, and he is the blandest and most boring iteration of the white heterosexual lead. He swears a bunch, whines a lot, is never funny or interesting, and…well, I hate him. I absolutely hate him. ♥♥♥♥ you, Clarke.

Some of that’s down to the generally weak narrative, which I still don’t fully understand. Not because it’s complicated, mind. It’s just nonsense, like it’s trying to string too many things together and not really knowing how to do it. An ailing humanity, government conspiracies, weird Markers...whatever.

The good news is that you don’t need to care too much. Just get your hands on the seeker rifle and cleanse the Sprawl, one twisted, if not exactly interesting, Necromorph at a time. Third person action horror titles rarely come this slick.
Posted 26 December, 2022. Last edited 28 March, 2023.
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11 people found this review helpful
33.1 hrs on record
It’s been about a decade since I first played Dead Space, and although I remembered enjoying it, I wasn’t sure how much. Maybe it’d just be good, and that’d be enough. Having just finished SIGNALIS, I was looking for another science fiction survival horror, so it seemed like an opportune time to revisit EA’s 2009 title.

Low and behold, it’s not just good – it’s great! Isaac Clarke’s bloody, tormented journey through the eviscerated USG Ishimura is probably a classic of the survival horror genre? It has the science fiction clunkiness of Scott's Alien, exemplified in Isaac’s suit, which is like a deep space copper hat.

Some of that clunkiness spills into the gameplay, too. With the enemy Necromorphs piling on you in dribbling droves, the ability to swat, squash, and pummel lands with a visceral punch. Something the third person perspective does really really well. I was impressed by how slick it all was, from the accessibility of the design to the fluid combat, that never felt unwieldy. The zero-G sequences are inspired, too, and are some of the best in the game.

There are some story issues, although they're not nearly as egregious as its sequel. The nature of the Ishimura’s illegal mining is never properly explored in a political context, nor is the Unitology cult, which mostly follows the usual tropes. Worse yet, the cult’s figurehead on the ship is voiced by an Iranian actor, and I don’t know how anyone on the development team didn’t stop to ask if it was a good idea to have them talk about “God’s will” and “divinity” in violent terms given the volatile discourse around Islamic extremism at the time. Whether through intent or ignorance, it’s deeply problematic.

Oh, and the stuff around the Marker, from which the monsters seem to originate and is the backbone of the game's mythology, is just nonsense. Which is a shame, because there’s lots of good stuff to work with.

But I guess none of that much matters when so much of the game is this well executed. I never really liked the Necromorphs – the designs are boring – but fighting them is super fun, and the idea of having to dismember the enemy to keep them down is a great hook for a game like this.

There’s a remake just around the corner, and whilst it looks gorgeous, I’m not sure it’s needed – this game still looks, and plays, beautifully.

Filthy lucre, eh?
Posted 24 December, 2022. Last edited 24 December, 2022.
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14 people found this review helpful
2
8.9 hrs on record
Minor spoilers herein

Initially, The Excavation of Hob’s Barrow suggests the experience ahead is a little rote: An archaeological dig that will undoubtedly uncover some terrible secret and doom the protagonist to life in an asylum. Y’know, the Lovecraftian trajectory. The likes of The Rats in the Walls, Dagon, and The Statement of Randolph Carter all came to mind. As in those tales, we know where we’re going, and we know exactly how it’s going to end.

Badly.

But that’s its best trick. Because there’s no saving our hero, Thomasina Bateman. The game makes that clear from the off. Compared to the inquisitive, plucky explorer of the present, the Thomasina of the future is drained of everything that made her who she was, enduring a kind of living death. And so, we set out from a glum train station in the Yorkshire moors to trace the grim path laid out before her.

Something about playing it, rather than reading it, makes the familiar dark descent a whole lot more interesting. Because unlike a character in a novel, we ostensibly have agency over our hero, and maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to circumvent Thomasina's fate. It’s that tension that holds the game together as we search for the barrow she wishes to excavate, ever knowing that nothing good can come out of it.

Thomasina’s destination, the town of Bewlay, is a strange place. The kind of strange that comes from somewhere so isolated as to exist within its own pocket universe, where everyone knows each other, and its customs are its own. Londoner Thomasina is a fish out of water here, and the game’s writing has a lot of fun with it. When you find the tavern you’re going to be staying in, you can almost smell the heady mix of ale and tobacco. There’s a warmth to the place, a sense of community, and most go out of their way to welcome you.

And yet something is amiss. Some sinister secret none dare speak of but one that binds all of Bewlay’s residents together. As Thomasina searches for the eponymous Hob’s Barrow, that secret slowly simmers to the surface – and from a very unexpected place.

The game’s inventory puzzles are well-placed throughout, neatly threaded with the many story scenes. They’re inventive, too, drawing inspiration from the setting. There's a small puzzle that involves creating a tincture out of local ingredients that I particularly enjoyed.

The setting, both Bewlay and the surrounding landscape, captures the windswept vastness of the moors, with their muted greens and greys, better than any other game I can think of. At times I felt a little bit like Florence Pugh’s character in 2016’s Lady Macbeth, cold and wet and alone. It's beautiful, really.

As the game approaches its finale, the game’s latent horror themes amplify in a big way, and something dark and malevolent swaddles Thomasina’s journey. I knew it was coming – how could it not? – but it was nonetheless deeply unnerving. The writing, sharp and slick, makes the inevitability of her doomed journey work exactly the way it needed to.

Whether you’re into adventure games or not, The Excavation of Hob’s Barrow is a dark, gorgeous game worth dipping into it. It’s all a bit Twin Peaks, actually - a comparison underlined by the excellent score. Twin Peaks relocated from the Pacific Northwest to middle England in the Victorian period.

And when you put it like that, you realise just how ingenious the whole thing is.
Posted 10 October, 2022. Last edited 10 October, 2022.
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