Crow Country Review: Ode to Classic Survival Horror

A beautiful love letter to old school horror that succeeds in making its own mark.

As a massive fan of classic survival horror series like Resident Evil and Silent Hill, I was immediately drawn to Crow Country’s similar tone, with its satisfying Final Fantasy VII-esque low-polygonal models, unique abandoned theme park settings, inventory management, and grainy CTR-like filter checking off all the boxes for a compelling old-school horror experience.

While I initially wanted to wait for its physical release on Switch, I decided to jump in early and check it out on PS5 via PS Plus. After spending close to 10 hours with the game, Crow Country is a ride everyone should buy a ticket for, whether in digital or physical form, especially those who enjoy the genre.

A woman on a mission.

The story follows a determined and mysterious protagonist named Mara Forest, a young agent sent to investigate the disappearance of a wealthy theme park owner in the Disneyland-like park called Crow Country (where, as the name suggests, the mascot is a cartoonish crow). The game starts you off by pulling up to the park’s vacant lot, where the setting’s abandoned and ominous conditions become immediately apparent, with the vibe feeling reminiscent of classic Resident Evil and Silent Hill.

Yep, some strong old-school survivor horror vibes here.

Exploring the abandoned theme park, which is divided into four major sections, in addition to some later areas that help unify the entire map more, is a genuine joy: Crow Country does a great job of gradually unraveling its themed areas, with the initial standard main plaza quickly opening up to visually effective and more engaging locations, like a mushroom populated fairy town, a Little Mermaid-like aquatic wonderland, and a Halloween-themed section filled with graveyards and a haunted mansion—lots of spooky environmental delights that do a fantastic job of pulling you in.

Each location feels unique and exciting in its own right, which greatly adds to the game’s sense of satisfying exploration—a key component of any effective survival horror experience.

There are lots of spooky environmental delights that do a fantastic job of pulling you in.

One of my favorite things about the game is its consistent and genuinely funny humor—SFB Games does a great job of having Mara come across as a likable and immediately memorable protagonist, starting from her opening lines, where she comically introduces herself and almost warns us not to forget her name. The supporting cast also adds to the story’s overall compelling experience, including an injured photographer, a determined reporter, and another in-over-his-head officer. The game’s various amorphous, zombie-like creatures/enemies offer eerie imagery and moments of tense action as well (though combat is admittedly on the easier side of things).

Crow Country excels in providing a memorable, personable, and often comedic ensemble of characters.

Julie with the zingers!

Although I greatly enjoyed my time with the game, those looking for a tense survival horror experience, in the vein of the aforementioned classic horror series, may be left feeling underwhelmed with the game’s offerings. There are a couple of jump-scare moments that did take me by surprise, and the eerie tension did leave me with occasional feelings of unease, especially early on when you’re still learning your way around the maze-like park, but Crow Country is otherwise light on scares. Even so, its charm, interesting story, largely memorable puzzles, and enjoyable settings more than make up for its lack of proper scares.

Admittedly, the game lacks any genuine scares…
…but there are plenty of atmospheric and creepy moments, resulting in an engaging experience nonetheless!

For its shortcomings…there are honestly very few. A minor annoyance I kept running into is trying to pinpoint Mara’s location on the map—her small onscreen icon is never exactly accurate (maybe by intentional design), resulting in arguably unnecessary guesswork and occasional frustration. Text and image pop-ups could benefit from a snappier response, too, with onscreen prompts/windows taking a bit too long to be dismissed, resulting in unnecessary and excessive button presses.

Figuring out your exact location on the map can be unnecessarily annoying at times.

While nearly all the puzzles did leave me with an enjoyable and lasting impression (with a particular train puzzle taking far longer to figure out than I’d initially anticipated), one specific puzzle involving a mushroom king ended up being as one of the weakest elements in the entire game, with the puzzle featuring a surprisingly underwhelming solution that rendered the room’s otherwise interesting clues seemingly pointless and insignificant, a game decision that left me scratching my head and which felt uncharacteristic for Crow Country’s otherwise solid puzzles. But again, these are ultimately minor flaws that didn’t significantly hinder the game’s otherwise excellent experience.

Some surprisingly fun post-game unlockables urge multiple playthroughs.

Crow Country also offers pretty rewarding replayability, such as aiming for a higher completion score to unlock a new costume and a powerful weapon, as well as hunting down hidden crow statues, which really reminded me of the hidden blue medallions from Resident Evil 4. I briefly toyed around with the entertaining unlockable weapon and hunted a couple of crow trophies on a second playthrough—I could easily see myself uncovering the park’s clues all over again for these fun new additions.

A gripping and wonderfully crafted experience.

Verdict

Those looking for a unique indie survival horror game that pays homage to genre titans like Resident Evil and Silent Hill, or anyone who’s been wanting to dip their toes into the typically tense genre, Crow Country truly is an indie gem that would likely delight a wide range of horror fans. While I do wish it served a little more scares within its wonderfully crafted abandoned theme park, Crow Country provides a fantastic ride that’s well worth its low admission price. Score — 9/10, AMAZING

The Good

  • Charming abandoned theme park settings, FF7 and CTR-themed visuals, and ’90s survival horror gameplay that overall nail the classic feel of the genre
  • Memorable protagonist and continuously engaging story that make for a more compelling experience
  • While light on genuine scares, the game’s atmosphere, sound design, and gradually escalating tension would likely please veterans of survival horror as well as newcomers
  • Fun additions and perks to try out in subsequent playthroughs, giving the game solid replayability

The Bad

  • While not necessarily a “bad” thing, it does feel like a missed opportunity not to offer more scares within the perfect horror environments
  • Minor QOL annoyances, such as Mara’s imprecise location on the map and slow menu dismissals
  • One specific puzzle is uncharacteristically and head-scratchingly dull

Les spent around 10 hours completing Crow Country and reaching “A” rank, in addition to playing around with post-game unlockables.

SCHiM Review – Style Over Substance

SCHiM is a game that immediately caught my eye after coming across a Reddit post from one of its creators, Ewoud van der Werf, five to six years ago: its striking visuals, genuinely interesting idea, and simple but pleasing gameplay mechanics (where a frog-like creature is seen jumping from shadow to shadow within an urban city environment) were met with a lot of interest and excitement on the creator’s post. It’s a game I found myself thinking about from time to time, thanks to its undeniable charm and unique premise.

After finally playing through it on Switch (via Switch 2) a year after its July 2024 release, SCHiM does succeed in nailing its charming environments and providing an undeniably adorable shadowy protagonist, but its main strengths unfortunately end there, with the end result offering an aesthetically pleasing but ultimately shallow experience.

You control a “schim”— a frog-like creature with the ability to jump from shadow to shadow.

You’ll spend 65 similarly-structured levels traversing as a frog-like shadow, or “schim”—a Dutch word that translates to “shadow, phantom, or soul”—that repeatedly tries to reunite with its owner after being suddenly separated near the start of the story. The gameplay is simple: utilize the shadows of everyday, often urban objects—such as moving vehicles, flying birds, or wandering pedestrians—to reach a specific area at the end of each level and keep chasing after your ever-elusive human counterpart.

The game is devoid of any dialogue, rather relying on simple environmental storytelling, which ends up working well: you’ll briefly shadow the life’s journey of a young boy, where you’ll see him transition from boyhood to adulthood, experience his first breakup, graduation, and first job, which he suddenly loses. His job termination acts as a major catalyst for the plot, where a sudden fall causes you to split from the down-on-his-luck human tether and continuously chase after him in hopes of reuniting and helping steer his life onto a better course.

Your chief goal is to somehow reunite with your human tether—a down-on-his-luck office worker who’s struggling to get back on his feet.

For its mechanics, you’re confined to jumping from shadow to shadow toward the end goal of each level, which you can preview at any time with the press of a button (ZR on Switch); this helps you stay on track if you happen to find yourself jumping to a dead end or chasing after optional hidden items peppered throughout most of the game’s levels. In addition to your main, long jump, you’re granted a much smaller hop to help reach your intended shadow, which works as a solid and well-implemented mechanic (I occasionally found myself juuust being able to reach my target thanks to this small secondary jump, which led to some satisfying moments).

The plethora of collectible items—which help reunite other lost schims to their specific tethers—offer some fun challenges, as well as urge deeper exploration and help prolong the game’s short runtime.

Rotating the camera opens up more shadows and angles to play around with, adding a layer of slightly deeper strategy that helps fight the monotony that starts to creep in after a dozen or so stages (although the camera angles do occasionally feel obstructive and somewhat frustrating in tight corners, resulting in a hit-or-miss leap of faith; though to the game’s credit, this kind of situation turned out to be pretty rare).

It’s all in the angles.

After the visually charming, but admittedly uneventful, first twenty or so minutes, the game starts to pick up more momentum and intrigue once the phantom becomes disconnected from its user, where you navigate the shadows of simple, common objects—like a loose box or a street lamp—to try to catch up to your human host. The game really opens up at this point, offering an initially promising sandbox that urges exploration.

Timing and navigating moving objects, like a passing moped or a walking pedestrian, offers some welcome variation and puzzle platforming to the mix.
When the environment lines up just right, you can find a satisfying rhythm to the movement and traversal that immediately draws you into the experience more. While all levels feature a genuinely charming and visually pleasing color palette and flair, some areas, like those with rain or dynamic shadows, feel especially immersive and creative, with the level design inviting more planning and strategy to your end-level goal. The game’s menu looks stylized and visually appealing as well; the small detail of having the schim leap from level to level in the stage selection screen feels like a nice touch.

Certain areas offer a more engaging experience, such as those that feature rain or dynamic shadows.

While many of the game’s levels do feel largely the same, despite their consistently charming design and changing color palettes, certain sections succeed in standing out more, offering a welcome break from monotony. A warehouse level, for example, feels like one of the game’s most satisfying, with the constantly moving machinery, clever jumping mechanics via slender/wire-line shadows, tricky conveyor belts, and an intricate level layout helping show off SCHiM’s true puzzle-platforming capabilities. (I really wish the game featured more levels like this one!)

Another favorite section of mine is a late-game area that reverses the roles of the shadow and its out-of-reach human, with the few levels offering a more surreal and daring feel to the game. At the same time, this area also unfortunately featured the sole glitch of my playthrough, with the glitched human—where he suddenly became stuck running in place, no matter where I moved—forcing me to restart the level. SCHiM never sends you far should you fail a jump or want to restart a level, but this moment was still a little surprising due to the game’s otherwise glitch and lag-free experience.

A specific late-game area offers one of the more interesting sections, where the mechanics are inverted and the roles of the shadow and its human are suddenly reversed, resulting in some wonderfully surreal visuals.

While your schim is given the opportunity to interact with any object it jumps into, the effects end up being largely insignificant (e.g. a lamp briefly rocking back and forth, trash bins spewing trash that surprisingly lack any key items or purpose, and humans that merely cough or look around); the biggest use of the button is to control traffic lights, which do affect vehicular and pedestrian traffic, making for some interesting puzzle-platforming.

While the interactable traffic lights do feel like a nice touch, and it does feel satisfying to find the hidden objects scattered throughout the levels—which help in significantly adding to the story’s otherwise short runtime—it can’t help but feel like a strongly missed opportunity not to utilize the schim’s abilities more and further play around with the world you inhabit, such as by having the dedicated interaction button carry a stronger sense of purpose throughout your journey. At best, this function feels like a believable distraction; while momentarily interesting, there’s often just nothing there to sink into.

SCHiM’s world features lots of well-drawn and interactable objects …that unfortunately don’t do much of anything.

Regarding its story (which, like much of the game’s mechanics, is very simple), while witnessing your human tether’s struggles and attempts in bettering himself (e.g. via different jobs, hobbies, etc.) does help you form a stronger connection to the journey, it admittedly starts to feel tiresome and repetitive in having to repeatedly see your target move just out of reach over and over again for 60+ levels. Crafting more narrative-driven reasons for the schim’s continual inability to catch up to its owner would have greatly elevated the plot and overall experience, a nagging feeling that came to mind for much of my time with the game.

The final section of the game does feel a bit more narratively-focused, with the levels offering some palpable tension, more complex puzzles, and higher stakes, but the ending still ends up feeling underwhelming, causing your continuous chases, leaps, and efforts to lack a more satisfying sense of accomplishment, both mechanically and narratively.

SCHiM’s post-game options offer some additional challenges for subsequent playthroughs, such as turning off the extra jump or only limiting you to a set number of lives before having to restart the game, but due to the game’s thin plot and overly similar levels, I personally didn’t find the urge to dive back into the shadows, despite the charm and visual appeal.

A visually-dazzling but shallow adventure.

Verdict

SCHiM’s appealing and striking visuals, as well as its imaginative and charming premise, undoubtedly infuse this puzzle-platformer with lots of initial promise—but its repetitive gameplay loop, lack of stronger substance, and missed opportunities to explore its premise and mechanics further make for an ultimately underwhelming experience that never quite hits its stride.

I’m happy to have finally experienced the final product, and I found myself genuinely enjoying many aspects of the title’s beautifully crafted animation and ever-changing color palettes—I just wish there were more substance to complement its style.

6/10 OKAY

The Good

  • Undeniably unique premise, stylish visuals, and charming atmosphere, all of which work well in pulling you into the unfolding game
  • Moments of satisfying puzzle-platforming, especially in the more specific and themed levels
  • Late-game sections feel more narrative-driven and offer a stronger sense of excitement

The Bad

  • Gameplay loop quickly grows stale and often feels monotonous, causing the game’s short runtime to feel simultaneously overly long
  • Plot feels loosely-woven, even for an action-platformer
  • Missed opportunities to further explore and expand on the game’s premise, mechanics, and plot
  • Optional post-game modifiers lack a more compelling reason to revisit the game once you’re done

Les spent around five hours platforming and finding collectibles in SCHiM on the Nintendo Switch 2.

NORCO Review – Big Trouble in the Deep South

It’s always a welcome and fairly rare treat when a game can evoke a wide range of emotions from its audience, be it inner reflection, grief, regret, inspiration, or genuine glee—these are all feelings I experienced during my roughly seven hour journey with NORCO, a biting, satirical, and deeply human point-and-click adventure that showcases what a beautifully-crafted, narrative-driven game can really deliver.

Taking place in a real-life town called Norco, in Louisiana, NORCO’s—short for New Orleans Refining Company—dystopian and futuristic settings share a number of similarities with its source material, with both towns plagued by their dark history of oil refinery and environmental disasters, and smoke-covered skies from the unfeeling, monolithic-like flare stacks, which are prominently shown in the game’s opening minutes. Some of the best aspects of the game are its specificity and undeniable authenticity—even if you’ve never been to a place like Norco, the game’s small-town struggles, eccentric denizens, and underlying corruption will likely resonate with most players on some level.

Home sweet home.

Since it’s a narrative-driven point-and-click adventure, it’s no surprise that its story (as opposed to its simple puzzles and admittedly forgettable QTE mechanics) is the star of the show. Your time is split between playing as Kay—a nomadic young woman who reluctantly returns to her dilapidating home after five years of wandering around militia and war-torn America—and her mother Catherine, an intelligent professor-turned-investigative journalist who’s dying from cancer.

Kay’s present-day adventure takes place following her mother’s death, resulting in an interesting juxtaposition between the mother’s and daughter’s separate but connected journeys. Family trauma is at the forefront of the experience, with the game letting you immediately know how much of Kay’s quiet guilt stems from her estranged relationships with her dead mother, absent father, and missing younger brother (who you try to track down throughout Kay’s story).

NORCO tackles some heavy subjects, including terminal illness and family trauma.

Having the story start with Kay’s reluctant and quietly-emotional return home works well in immediately hooking the player in—the opening sequence does a great job of establishing the game’s Southern Gothic tonal blend of melancholy and sci-fi nihilism, with the beautifully-crafted pixelated graphics and animation, as well as the electronic dynamic soundtrack, immediately pulling you in, just like the opening minutes of a great movie or a book that you know you won’t put down.

Memories of the protagonist’s late mom loom everywhere in the family’s dilapidated home.

Kay’s desolate, natural disaster-stricken family house, reminders of her youth via her childhood bedroom, and painful reminders of her mother’s heavy absence, which you learn more about as you click your way through the environment, work as a fantastic way of pulling you into the story; childhood mementos, such as Kay’s beloved and slightly unsettling stuffed monkey, and traumatic experiences, including a darkly comedic memory where she recollects her brother’s desperate efforts to clense the family’s roach-infested microwave, come across as immediately resonant and nostalgic. I can’t stress enough how well done these simple but character and environment-driven opening moments truly are.

Kay’s story revolves around tracking down her missing, slacker-like younger brother and searching for clues relating to the mysterious circumstances surrounding her mother’s death, where the latter’s condition suddenly deteriorated after investigating the oil refinery’s supernatural operations in a local lake, where a mysterious white light was seen (the story is out there in the best way possible). Your accomplices include a small number of eccentric and often darkly comedic characters, such as the futuristic android companion Million, and often clueless and affable private detective Brett LeBlanc, who ends up being the star of the show.

Brett LeBlanc—an eccentric and often hilarious detective who will accompany part of your journey.

For a point-and-click game, its roster of characters can make or break the experience, and Geography of Robots greatly succeeds in delivering an ensemble of likable, deeply memorable, eccentric, and often comical individuals. The story’s humor is genuinely well done as well, with Geography of Robots nailing the tonal blend of moving family trauma, sci-fi and detective-themed mystery/suspense, and darkly-comedic/absurdist situations; one optional dialogue interaction—“Showgoer’s Tale”— particularly stands out, where a random man recalls their hilariously disasterous, gastrointestinal night, after you’d willingly coerced them into ingesting expired hot dogs. Just pure cinema.

The story’s filled with zany and darkly comedic moments, which greatly add to the overall experience.

In addition to the point-and-click mechanics you’d expect from a point-and-click game, where you use your cursor to investigate the largely static screen for any clues or observations within a given environment, NORCO utilizes a feature called “Mind Map,” a kind of dynamic quest log and character database where Kay attempts to piece together clues and recall past events as you progress through the story; it’s a visually interesting mechanic that makes sense for the game and leans into the story’s mystery/suspense/detective-themed narrative.

The game utilizes a “Mind Map” to keep track of your clues and the story’s progression.

The story is a layered adventure full of surreal, sci-fi, and dystopian twists and turns that’ll keep fans of the genre hooked until the end, and it’s best to leave any further details secret to avoid any spoilers; while there are other, major story elements to discuss, I think it’s best to experience the narrative as blind as possible.

Which moves us onto the game’s still fairly solid but not-quite-as-exciting next section: it’s actual gameplay. While the point-and-click mechanics and Mind Map-related gameplay do feel satisfying, some of NORCO’s other gameplay elements tend to give off a much more hit-or-miss experience. The game’s minor Quick Time Event moments, for instance, feel a bit stiff and lack any real excitement; maybe if they were more utilized within the game, they could’ve had a more memorable impact/offered a more memorable sense of variety to the experience, but as is, they ultimately feel slapped on.

There’s a specific boat-themed section in the game’s third act that ends up feeling as the game’s weakest. Controlling the small boat on screen, while avoiding initially invisible walls and other obstacles, while interesting in theory, ends up feeling largely like padding, causing the game to stumble a bit leading up to its genuinely exciting and climactic final sections. The bland underwater sections, which surprisingly lack any strong imagery to accompany their on-screen text descriptions/storytelling, and feature rudimentary “flip the switch until green” puzzles, come across as uncharacteristically undercooked and shallow. This area ultimately left me scratching my head due to its low quality and unfulfilling gameplay, especially when compared to the rest of the game. This section does feature one of the game’s most iconic artistic moments, but even still, the padding here is apparent and ultimately hurts NORCO’s overall effect.

The game’s boat-themed late-game section is one of its weakest parts, where the gameplay feels bland and the artistic direction is surprisingly lacking.

NORCO’s final big section ends up being the game’s most memorable and immersive, with the story leaning more heavily into its alien, sci-fi, and surreal themes and providing an unsettling atmosphere that helps the overall game leave a more lasting impression. Without giving away spoilers, the surreal-like dream sequence is one of the best parts of the entire game—the heartbreaking family interactions and what-could-have-beens culminate into an emotionally-charged conclusion that may very well induce tears (good luck to anyone with family trauma!). While the ending does provide an overall stellar conclusion, I’d have to say certain aspects do feel a bit rushed, such as the story’s surprising lack of deeper exploration for Kay’s relationship with her missing brother.

A gripping journey.

Verdict

NORCO offers a genuinely memorable, cathartic, and often hilarious and absurd experience that’s delivered via a gorgeous pixel-animated package. The city’s distinct feel, expressive small-town vibes, and eccentric ensemble of characters are sure to please fans of narrative-driven experiences. I do wish the game’s actual gameplay were a bit deeper and more satisfying, but even if some of NORCO’s mechanics do feel rudimentary and cause some lulls in the experience, the story and its layered journey more than make up for its shortcomings.

This truly feels like a one-of-a-kind adventure that everyone should try to experience, especially those who aren’t afraid to open themselves up for introspection and emotionally-charged storytelling.

8/10 GREAT

The Good

  • Gorgeous pixel animation and environments that immediately draw the audience into NORCO’s small-town, Louisiana settings
  • Often emotionally-charged storytelling that hits right in the feels, providing a deeply moving experience that’ll resonate with fans of narrative-driven games
  • Genuinely interesting small cast of characters that breathes life into the game’s world, with certain characters providing hilarious moments that work well in cutting through the game’s continual, dystopian tension
  • The story offers a great mix of sci-fi, mystery/suspense, detective, and light horror-themed elements that’ll keep the player invested until the end
  • Certain gameplay mechanics, like the Mind Map, give the player an interesting and visually appealing way of working through the plot

The Bad

  • The actual gameplay can admittedly feel lacking, with QTE and occasional puzzles largely feeling forgettable and/or overly simple
  • Certain sections act more like bland padding, such as the game’s boat-related area in its final act
  • While deeply moving, the ending does feel a bit rushed/undercooked in some regards, notably Kay’s relationship with her missing brother

Les spent seven hours uncovering the surreal mysteries of NORCO on a base PS5.