It's important for me to preface this review with the following;
I do not play a lot of horror games. I had not played, let alone finished, many horror games before this. Mostly, this comes down to me being a very naturally anxious person who is stupidly easy to scare, thus I struggle to stomach them, so until this the only horror games I had completed were 'Omori', 'i live under your house', 'System Shock 2' and a few 'Five Nights at Freddy's' games. With this qualifier presented, I can say with confidence that Frictional Game's 'Amnesia: The Dark Descent' is easily the scariest game I've ever encountered, and in spite of some tiny flaws elicited such a strong emotional reaction from me that it would be remiss for me to not consider it among the medium's finest.
At first, the prospect of a 'sanity' metre—an idea found immeditley quaint for lovecraftian games soon after the admittedly novel antics of 'Eternal Darkness' found their way dancing atop the GameCube—and the titular trope making pose as the story hook had me worrying a potential glaze over was inbound, a worry quickly sedated by a realisation I had early in the game that even with all the red pus germinating in the walls, 'The Dark Descent' had been able to demonstrate a shocking level of restraint in the way it chose to unnerve me thus far. While worry would not be truly cured until later, Frictional's dedication to pacing had me intrigued enough to fully immerse myself in both the excellent atmosphere and writing. The technical quality of the writing found in the notes is quite the admirable one, since the game would have done perfectly fine narratively without it, hooking players into what is presently the story of a man going nuts in the dark trying to set his bad deeds right. The added digresional textures of colonial guilt and characterisation were certainly elevatory when they could easily have been detrimental, leaving me satisifed with their inclusion.
'Amnesia' is also quite effectivley dreary, with fantastic lighting and crestfallen texture work adorning it's traumatisied and despotic halls. Structures held a balance between intimidation and the alien tipping on both ends against the players comfort. Rooms can be tight and dark, spotted with brief drips of light which can become a pool only at the daring cost of the player's resources, or they can be looming, oversized and intimidating. This atmosphere of oppresion is essential to a horror experience, and well adjusted here.
The alleviation of my minor irritation at the value of a 'sanity' mechanic came with my introduction to the monsters of Brennenburg. Now, this doesn't happen until a few hours in due to the commitment to narrative pacing present in 'The Dark Descent' but they add a lot to the game. First, they give the "sanity" mechanic a purpose beyond the superficial; as maxing out the metre renders the game unplayable, the sheer act of looking at the monsters will raise the gameplay into a horrid state, meaning the player is forced to keep their eyes off them! This is genius because it allows the player's imagination to do a lot of work for Frictional, having me wholeheartedly afraid of them from entry to exit. While the bugs-crawling-across-the-monitor illusion and other more superfluous consequences of loosing 'sanity' are silly, this contextualisation of the mechanic with a core player struggle was too complimentary to the rest of the game for me to dislike the feature. Wish they'd call it 'stress' or something though because 'sanity' still sounds mega silly.
Some puzzles are a little dense, but all are ultimately satisfying, there's even some instances of emergent gameplay, which is always welcome! Really I have nothing to complain about here. Frictional have delivered a subperb, clever, and hauntingly beautiful horror masterpiece here which still holds up well over a decade later! This, my friends—let us waggle our judging fingers at Bloober team as they piss all over team silent's legacy—is the key to a memorable and powerful horror experience, subtlety and considered, oppresive mechanics! Nothing short of excellent.
I do not play a lot of horror games. I had not played, let alone finished, many horror games before this. Mostly, this comes down to me being a very naturally anxious person who is stupidly easy to scare, thus I struggle to stomach them, so until this the only horror games I had completed were 'Omori', 'i live under your house', 'System Shock 2' and a few 'Five Nights at Freddy's' games. With this qualifier presented, I can say with confidence that Frictional Game's 'Amnesia: The Dark Descent' is easily the scariest game I've ever encountered, and in spite of some tiny flaws elicited such a strong emotional reaction from me that it would be remiss for me to not consider it among the medium's finest.
At first, the prospect of a 'sanity' metre—an idea found immeditley quaint for lovecraftian games soon after the admittedly novel antics of 'Eternal Darkness' found their way dancing atop the GameCube—and the titular trope making pose as the story hook had me worrying a potential glaze over was inbound, a worry quickly sedated by a realisation I had early in the game that even with all the red pus germinating in the walls, 'The Dark Descent' had been able to demonstrate a shocking level of restraint in the way it chose to unnerve me thus far. While worry would not be truly cured until later, Frictional's dedication to pacing had me intrigued enough to fully immerse myself in both the excellent atmosphere and writing. The technical quality of the writing found in the notes is quite the admirable one, since the game would have done perfectly fine narratively without it, hooking players into what is presently the story of a man going nuts in the dark trying to set his bad deeds right. The added digresional textures of colonial guilt and characterisation were certainly elevatory when they could easily have been detrimental, leaving me satisifed with their inclusion.
'Amnesia' is also quite effectivley dreary, with fantastic lighting and crestfallen texture work adorning it's traumatisied and despotic halls. Structures held a balance between intimidation and the alien tipping on both ends against the players comfort. Rooms can be tight and dark, spotted with brief drips of light which can become a pool only at the daring cost of the player's resources, or they can be looming, oversized and intimidating. This atmosphere of oppresion is essential to a horror experience, and well adjusted here.
The alleviation of my minor irritation at the value of a 'sanity' mechanic came with my introduction to the monsters of Brennenburg. Now, this doesn't happen until a few hours in due to the commitment to narrative pacing present in 'The Dark Descent' but they add a lot to the game. First, they give the "sanity" mechanic a purpose beyond the superficial; as maxing out the metre renders the game unplayable, the sheer act of looking at the monsters will raise the gameplay into a horrid state, meaning the player is forced to keep their eyes off them! This is genius because it allows the player's imagination to do a lot of work for Frictional, having me wholeheartedly afraid of them from entry to exit. While the bugs-crawling-across-the-monitor illusion and other more superfluous consequences of loosing 'sanity' are silly, this contextualisation of the mechanic with a core player struggle was too complimentary to the rest of the game for me to dislike the feature. Wish they'd call it 'stress' or something though because 'sanity' still sounds mega silly.
Some puzzles are a little dense, but all are ultimately satisfying, there's even some instances of emergent gameplay, which is always welcome! Really I have nothing to complain about here. Frictional have delivered a subperb, clever, and hauntingly beautiful horror masterpiece here which still holds up well over a decade later! This, my friends—let us waggle our judging fingers at Bloober team as they piss all over team silent's legacy—is the key to a memorable and powerful horror experience, subtlety and considered, oppresive mechanics! Nothing short of excellent.