There are a few absolute, inalienable truths about horror games that we have come to know over time:
- The human condition is always more terrifying than the creatures hunting the player.
- Whether they achieve victory or not, the player will always be the victim.
- Regardless of what anybody says, there’s no such thing as “too many limbs”.
In the case of Reanimal – Tarsier Studios’ latest small-but-spooky offering – these unspoken rules are granted more presence than ever, which makes the fact you play as a group of children ever more horrifying.
If you’ve ever played Little Nightmares, the gameplay of Reanimal will likely feel familiar before you have even started – solving environmental puzzles takes precedence over the core horror elements, but tense chases and suspenseful sequences more than make up for the quieter moments of the game. There’s a sense of comfortable familiarity for me; as a personal fan of Tarsier Studios’ previous games, it’s nice to see the way the scope has changed over time.
Before talking about the horror elements that make up the foundation of the game, it’s important to explore the mechanical aspects of play – your interaction with the world is often superficial, with your characters largely just trying to escape an ever-growing pool of threats to clear a path to the next area and save your friends. Collecting key items, climbing ledges, mounting ladders, and operating vehicles (the latter of which is a new addition to the series staples) will be the majority of what you find yourself doing, with the clear exception of two mechanics most horror fans will be very familiar with: running and hiding.
From the very first moment you meet the hollowed-out human skins that slither towards you, right up until you face the goofy bloke on a tricycle (hilarious in concept, terrifying in execution, I might add), there is a palpable tension in every new area; humanoid characters have an uncanny nature to them, not quite fitting the mould of what it is to be a human – this combined with the anthropomorphic creatures that pursue you, each of which slowly shedding more of their humanity, can leave you feeling uncomfortable. Despite falling into the “cosy horror” category, Reanimal does a spectacular job of leaving you with a lingering sense of dread.
Outside of the obvious dangers, the game also manages to deal with a number of topics ranging from more nuanced subjects all the way to some overt themes blasted directly into your face with the force of a long-limbed man on a tricycle (just play the game; you’ll get it). Its sentiments towards war are made fairly clear during some of the later chapters, but there also lies a deeper layer of imagery related to occultism, specifically the ritualistic behaviours that have long been associated with it.
The persistent use of lambs and rabbits to portray creatures of sacrifice blends perfectly with the many creatures of the world, most representing anthropomorphic beings that have relinquished all humanity to become a terrifying amalgam of flesh, bone and beast. Snakes made of flayed skin, spiders with many human limbs and creatures that look like some malformed mutation will constantly be hunting you and your friends throughout each area, but without falling into spoiler territory, it’s safe to say that humanity remains just as eager a predator in the world.
Reanimal doesn’t do much to distinguish itself from Little Nightmares through its design – threats plague the world that feel like a pessimistic caricature of humanity, and the dark environments and sudden tension ebb and flow like its predecessors – but somehow the game manages to shake off the familiarity and tell an engaging story of its own, this time with the added benefit of voice acting. I’m not sure how I feel about voiced characters after experiencing the silent protagonist for so long, but even if it isn’t to my tastes, I don’t feel that it’s a negative by any stretch, giving a little more depth without leaning too heavily into dialogue as a literary crutch.
Voices aren’t the only audio you’ll hear throughout the game, with a whole host of diegetic sounds keeping you on edge. The padding footsteps, the distant slamming of doors, the ever-nearing sound of that man-shaped creature on a tricycle – this is amplified massively by a soundtrack built entirely to echo in the background, never overtaking the main event; the music is filled with a deep dissonance and clearly takes cues from classic horror, with violin bows drawn on metal and the human of rubber across a tin box – it’s the kind of thing you’d normally hear from an Apprehension Engine, the tool popularised by the score from Robert Egger’s 2015 film The Witch, and leads to a deeply oppressive atmosphere.
All of the factors in Reanimal fall into place perfectly, creating a game that seems intent on letting the player have full control despite feeling entirely helpless – it isn’t without its flaws, however, as there are a number of vehicle segments throughout the game that, although tense at times, can feel jarring or unusual to control, especially given you are playing a group of children who hypothetically shouldn’t know how to drive an ice-cream van, but even with its short runtime there isn’t much to pick apart.
There’s a clear passion for horror in Reanimal. Its use of a style of terror personified in late-1800s fiction reminds us that the real horrors might be there, but sometimes they are a product of the horrors that we as humans produce. The layers upon layers of subtext warrant their own articles, from war children to the worship of gods and monsters. The game is both a deep look at modern culture through an almost prescient lens; despite this, you can also take the game at its surface and just enjoy a rare treat in the form of a well-crafted creature feature.
