Reanimal Review: “A Bizarre Journey Through Dark Imagery and Disturbing World-Building”
Reanimal offers a treasure trove of nightmare fuel, delivering a wild ride through a landscape of twisted imagery and unsettling world-building. Players will encounter a plethora of ‘nope, not a fan’ moments as they navigate through grotesque creatures pursuing the children they control. One particular scene is sure to be etched in memory for a long time—definitely a case of playable trauma.
However, the game feels somewhat fragmented, resembling a collection of vignettes rather than a seamless journey. Each segment is impressively crafted, brimming with the atmospheric flair you’d expect from Tarsier Studios, known for their work on the Little Nightmares series. Yet, there’s a sense of disconnection that leaves players yearning for a stronger narrative thread to tie everything together. While the horrors you face create beautifully crafted microcosms of dread, the overall experience lacks a cohesive glue to unify them.
The adventure kicks off with a chilling chase from limp, empty human skins, their sagging, melted faces looming as they drag their sock-like limbs behind them. This unsettling concept is explored through various horrific motifs—these skins drape over chairs, hang from tree branches, and even go through laundry, where they are washed and ironed. A tall, solitary figure collects them, scuttling like a spider with limbs twisted in unnatural ways, using the bellies of bloated corpses as grotesque portals. It’s a brilliant yet horrifying idea that raises many questions, only to vanish without further exploration.
The narrative follows two children navigating a bizarre and surreal world intent on their demise through a myriad of gruesome methods. The constant threat of being swallowed by something’s fleshy throat looms large, alongside the risk of being crushed, blown up, or worse. The sparse environment sometimes leads to exploratory deaths as players test boundaries to uncover dangers, with results that are often skin-crawlingly unsettling.
As you delve deeper into this surreal realm, the people-skin monsters give way to monstrous animals, ghostly children, and even a creature resembling a hairy intestine with legs. Your survival tools are grounded in stealth, requiring careful navigation of routes and timings to avoid the various fates that await. Combat moments arise, where you swing a crowbar at foes, but the mechanics feel a bit clumsy, straddling the line between frantic and sluggish, often devolving into button mashing.
Puzzles are straightforward, primarily revolving around locating keys or tools like bolt cutters to progress. This simplicity aligns with the focus on exploration and experiencing the world. You wander through the environment, encountering terrible sights, and then pause to figure out how to bypass obstacles, which could range from locked doors to a giant, eyeless, weeping whale. Despite the game’s relatively short seven-and-a-half-hour playtime, the world feels expansive, with vehicles like boats and trucks facilitating movement between areas. While it’s not an open-world experience, the branching paths and hidden collectibles create a sense of spaciousness, though players who stress over missing side paths might find a different kind of horror in their journey.
At its core, Reanimal artfully transforms ordinary elements into sources of trauma, exploring unsettling representations of various landscapes. My notes are filled with ‘ooh wow’ moments, from stunning environmental reveals to intricately staged set pieces. A memorable encounter involves being attacked by a swarm of murderous seagulls, reminiscent of classic horror, while an underwater segment stands out as one of the year’s most chilling experiences.
When the game reaches its high points, it truly shines. The camera work is masterful, sweeping and panning across scenes with cinematic flair, capturing moments of confinement beautifully. One particularly satisfying boss fight delivers a thrilling experience, culminating in a climactic finale that leaves players on the edge of their seats, ending with a grotesque, fleshy conclusion that takes a moment to fully process.
Playing Reanimal feels akin to flipping through playable concept art—horrific, imaginative, and inventive, yet lacking a satisfying cohesion. While there’s a sequence of events that unfolds by the end, it doesn’t quite tie everything together. I don’t expect a game like this to provide all the answers; ambiguity is a hallmark of effective horror. However, the absence of a clear antagonist or overarching theme leaves the experience feeling disjointed. There’s a solid horror game here, one worth experiencing, but it lacks the cohesive impact that would elevate its standout moments into a unified whole.
