Even without the cloying darkness and lumbering monsters, you get the impression Crow Country would be a pretty awful day out, what with its cramped thoroughfares and tatty décor, its frazzled animatronics and the kind of browning water features you can practically smell through the screen. It’s certainly no Disneyland that’s for sure, but there’s no arguing this delightfully grim Atlanta theme park is a perfect horror setting.
Crow CountryDeveloper: SFB GamesPublisher: SFB GamesPlatform: Played on PCAvailability: Out now on PlayStation, Xbox, Switch, and PC (via Steam and GOG)
The year is 1990, and you – Agent Mara Forest – are a young (conspicuously young, in fact) law enforcement officer sent to the titular tourist attraction to investigate the disappearance of its owner, one Edward Crow. Not that any of this pre-amble especially matters; the star here is that grotty setting, which makes this survival horror throwback feel refreshingly distinct, even as it leans firmly into nostalgia.
The most obvious affectation here comes with those deliciously chunky visuals; all awkwardly bulbous polygons and low-res filters intended to capture the spirit of yesteryear rather than replicate it fastidiously. It works, though, giving the whole thing the vibe of a long-lost survival horror classic, tumbled straight out of a wormhole for brand-new eyes. And vibes, really, is what Crow Country is all about. This certainly isn’t a scary game, but it still manages to elicit some deliciously spooky tension all the same, as its pudgy meat-creatures shamble awkwardly around corners and spindly legged oddities lurch menacingly into view.
Structurally, too, Crow Country borrows heavily from the earliest iterations of Resident Evil and its ilk. This is a world of locked doors and improbably elaborate security mechanisms, of save rooms and liberally scattered notes, where progress is one of puzzle-solving, backtracking, and the occasional jolts of combat. Combat, frankly, I don’t love; rather than modern-day run-and-gunning, it’s got the staccato rhythm of old, where unholstering your weapons roots you to the spot as you aim wildly and awkwardly in search of a headshot. And if an enemy gets too close, you’re forced to holster up, leg it somewhere out of reach, and try again.