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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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Laika: Aged Through Blood Review – Bloody Good Time

In an increasingly competitive and over-saturated genre, it can be difficult, if not impossible, for an indie Metroidvania to truly stand out among the crowd, but Laika: Aged Through Blood very much succeeds in pulling the player into its dystopian world through the eyes of its titular, canine rebel, with the gritty and visceral experience leaving a lasting impression long after the credits roll.

While it does carry some minor frustrations and narrative shortcomings, Laika is the kind of game you can easily lose yourself in, thanks to the story’s formidable protagonist, clever Trials-esque game mechanics, beautifully-crafted, screenshot-worthy world (I have a whole album saved to my PS5, along with a new home screen backdrop), and outstanding original soundtrack that’s great to listen to both in and out of the game (I ended up quickly adding the OST to my Apple Music playlist, and have since turned more and more people onto Beícoli’s wonderfully haunting, melancholic melodies).

**You’ll come across a variety of melancholic tapes throughout your journey, either through natural discovery, scattered gas stations, or after key story events.**

On paper, Laika’s motorbike-themed movements and gameplay—which feel reminiscent of games like Trials—may sound a bit strange within the world of Metroidvanias, where one is used to plodding on foot, jumping, crouching, and sometimes parrying for precise movement and kills. Instead of traveling on foot, outside of a few specific areas—such as your homebase and a few shops scattered across the map—you’ll spend the majority of the game atop your trusty motorbike.

While Laika’s bike mechanics do admittedly take a little while to get used to (I won’t lie: It is very easy to die in this game, be it from a poorly-timed jump, an enemy’s single, errant bullet, or simply face-planting while standing still), those who give it a chance will find themselves quickly adapting to the bike’s movements and satisfying tricks, at which point the road opens itself up to a dazzling journey filled with beautifully-crafted landscapes, such as desolate deserts, floating cities, and steampunk-esque facilities that house the story’s avian villains and their dangerous plans for world domination.

There’s genuinely a lot to like here—those who enjoy Metroidvania-themed sidescrollers and emotionally-charged adventures will most likely find themselves right at home throughout Laika’s 18+ hour journey.

**The most important tool in the game: Your trusty bike.**

The hero’s motorbike is an extension of both herself and the player—it will be your best friend throughout Laika’s journey, and it feels genuinely satisfying to pull off its slick tricks as you navigate perilous obstacles and deadly avian soldiers. Performing a mid-air backflip reloads your gun, a front spin reloads your deflect/parry, and you activate a satisfying mid-drive directional change with the hold of a button (square on PS5), which, in addition to changing the direction you’re facing, deflects an enemy’s bullet, via a satisfying metal *ping* off the bike’s body, right back at them (I’m a sucker for a parry, and really enjoyed Brainwash Gang’s personal spin on this mechanic).

The game offers a small selection of weapons, where you start off with a simple, two-ammo-capacity revolver and eventually unlock more weapons as you make your way through the story, like a shotgun, crossbow, and sniper; while the guns don’t necessarily carry Earth-shattering differences (aside from the shotgun, which helps propel you to harder-to-reach places thanks to its handy knock-back), it’s still satisfying to gradually upgrade them via acquired environmental materials, and the adrenalin of quickly juggling your remaining ammo, while facing perilous obstacles and strategically-placed enemies and their encroaching gunfire, never loses its appeal.

When everything goes right, you feel like Mad Max kicking ass on the open road, and when everything falls apart (which it often will), a quick checkpoint, which is mercifully never far from your last place of death, is there to put you right back in the action to try again.

**The game’s stoic protagonist—Laika—feels like a badass Mad Max-esque gunslinger that you’ll quickly become invested in.**

A lot of what makes or breaks a Metroidvania are its map and settings, and thankfully Laika offers a varied and visually-pleasing environment that urges exploration.

While in the middle of a main mission, I often found myself just hitting the road and exploring new areas, which would result in a sudden change of scenery, be it a junkyard-themed landscape, rusted pipes, or floral treetops. Laika really nails the gratifying itch of discovering new areas, and its fun to hunt down the strategically-placed, mysterious map-holding figure, who grants you a map of each new section for a small fee called “Viscera” (which consists of meaty chunks of your dead enemies that are magnetically pulled to your character), all while lovingly calling you a silly wanker.

Although I genuinely enjoyed almost every area of the map, certain sections do tend to drag a bit and/or feel unnecessarily long or tedious—the boat-themed section, and a later pyramid-themed area, in particular, while still fairly enjoyable, ended up being as some of my least-favorite parts of the game, largely due to a specific harpoon-themed tool that ends up being largely useless in the open world, and excessive backtracking that felt more like forced filler than well-crafted puzzle solving. Thankfully, these kinds of sections are few and far between, and ended up not really detracting from the overall experience.

**You’ll need to get quickly acclimated to constant ramps and navigating various obstacles along the way, which will often take place amidst beautiful scenery.**

For its narrative, you’ll find yourself quickly invested in the plot, where you play as a coyote named Laika—a nihilistic, battle-worn, and bike-toting gunslinger who possesses an ability to resurrect herself from death. At the start of the game you’re tasked in locating a couple of missing denizens from Laika’s small village, which launches an emotional journey where Laika’s daughter, aptly named Puppy, urges you to find her friend’s missing body so as to lay its spirit to rest, all while you attempt to avoid all-out war with the authoritarian bird-themed militia responsible for the merciless killings.

There’s a lot of mysticism and spirituality in play, with Laika possessing the power to resurrect herself after death thanks to her family’s hereditary, blood-based powers, which become a central point to the villain’s motives; this also works as a clever way to incorporate your countless deaths into the story itself. Certain other story elements, like the magical totem poles/bone memorials, which are peppered throughout the map and serve as save points, characters’ discussions regarding life, death, and spirituality, and the often melancholic soundtrack, also greatly add to the distinct feel of the world and the characters that inhabit it.

**These bone memorials—which resemble totem poles—are never far from your last death, ensuring you’ll be back in the action in no time.**

I often found myself getting lost in these spiritual and introspective moments, which, in turn, made me careful not to rush through the story and to allow myself to soak up the game’s surprisingly transcendental undertones, which juxtapose well with the narrative’s often violent key plot points. It’s the kind of game where you find yourself reflecting on your own life, putting yourself in certain characters’ shoes, and attempting to understand the motives behind the more unfavorable individuals in the game’s unforgiving world.

**Laika’s village features an assortment of distinct characters, which help to further immerse the player into the game’s dystopian world.**

Aside from the game’s tricky movement-based mechanics, and instances of minor glitches (I had to reset my game a couple of times due to my character suddenly being frozen in place, and the map not allowing me to move its cursor or teleport to a new area, in addition to a couple of other minor visual and audio glitches), the story’s ending ended up being as one of the weakest points of the game, with its head-scratchingly-easy final boss (compared to the much harder earlier boss fights, one of which took me close to twenty tries to finally defeat), and rushed/somewhat abrupt final cutscene making it feel like Brainwash Gang simply wanted to wrap the story up rather than reach a more satisfying or rewarding sense of closure.

While subjective, since the story did such a great job of pulling me in and making me care for its characters and the world they inhabit, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated by how much the final act fumbled in sticking the landing, resulting in a “what could have been” kind of moment as I watched the credits roll. Laika’s lack of NG+ or multiple endings—which is a bit surprising for a Metroidvania-themed game—sadly kills the game’s replayability as well; unless you want to upgrade all your weapons, collect all the music tapes, and complete every side quest (which you’ll likely get close to achieving in your first playthrough anyway, if you take your time like I did), there’s admittedly not a lot of incentive for multiple playthroughs.

Regarding its performance, while I played Laika on a base PS5, where I enjoyed crisp graphics and a 60 FPS experience—in addition to a few minor hiccups, as mentioned before—the Nintendo Switch’s 30 FPS version may prove to be less fluid by comparison, as well as graphically softer around the edges. For a game like this, where timing is everything, I’d recommend choosing a version that hits those sixty frames per second.

Verdict

While Laika: Aged Through Blood does demand a lot from the player, due to the game’s sensitive motorbike-centric mechanics, once you get a firmer grasp on the controls (and the bike’s handlebars), the game immediately rewards you with satisfying gunplay and bike tricks, a likable, badass protagonist, a beautifully-drawn world, and stellar OST, making the price of entry—i.e. a brief amount of patience to get used to the controls—very much worth the journey.

The game’s minor glitches, occasional excessive backtracking, and rushed ending do bog the experience down a bit, but Laika: Aged Through Blood is nonetheless a unique and exciting Metroidvania that sticks in your brain long after you watch the credits roll; a kind of game that oozes artistic inspiration and, in many ways, helps elevate the video game medium.

8/10 GREAT

The Good

Beautifully-crafted and visually-rich world that urges exploration
Three-dimensional-sounding characters that immediately pull you into the narrative
Slick motorbike-themed mechanics that feel well-implemented and satisfying to pull off, at least once you get accustomed to the controls
Satisfying gunplay and a couple of genuinely memorable boss fights
Wonderful OST that serves as a great backdrop to the story and environment as you explore the desolate wasteland

The Bad

The game’s reliance on its squirrely and specific bike-themed mechanics may be a turnoff for some players
A couple of needlessly-heavy backtracking areas feel more like filler than clever puzzle solving
Certain sections and mechanics/tools end up lacking stronger intrigue or usefulness (looking at you, harpoon)
Underwhelming and abrupt conclusion to an otherwise immersive and captivating story

Les clocked in close to 30 hours during his time with Laika: Aged Through Blood on PS5, where he completed nearly every side quest and acquired nearly every collectible throughout his blood-soaked journey.