Reviewer’s Note: While limited, certain story praises/critiques mean I’ll have to touch on SOME SPOILERS. Read on at your own risk.
Since inception, Compulsion Games has garnered a specific reputation: wonderful aesthetics, actualized world-building, and inspired core concepts that are diminished by execution almost shakier than Michael J. Fox on a caffeine binge. From the underappreciated Contrast to the maligned We Happy Few (and its expansions), there’s often some type of hurdle – be it financial, creative indecisiveness, or a mix of both – hindering greater critical & commercial reception. Now, several years and a studio acquisition later, the only question is whether the team maintains that rap sheet.
As Hazel Flood’s house is taken by a tempestuous hurricane’s storm surge, the Wizard of Oz parallels are immediately apparent. Unlike Dorothy Gale’s adventure though, Hazel’s mom, Lacey, is the only one swept away inside. Desperately pursuing the boathouse as it careens through flooded backwoods, Hazel is eventually forced to recoup and seek shelter. But she’s nevertheless committed to travel across all of the Deep South to save her mom.
South of Midnight’s ties to L. Frank Baum’s masterpiece are elucidating in how it compares and contrasts. Past the embedded Southern Gothic folklore, there’s also a tonal shift from the brighter “aw shucks!” innocence of Oz’s Midwest. Once her new journey begins, Hazel quickly learns she’s the latest in a long line of Weavers: gifted individuals who see and must care for The Grand Tapestry by mending traumatized spirits. It’s another clean disparity from Oz: whereas Dorothy was a stranger in a strange land, Hazel is interfacing with her hometown, Prospero, and other known places through a new lens, now seeing the deeper spiritual scars left by slavery, abject poverty, and other wicked traumas.
Kim Belair, Lisa Hunter, Zaire Lanier, and Nadria Tucker’s storyline isn’t shy when tackling those subjects either. Hell, the last weaver preceding Hazel – the closest thing to a magic preceptor – was Harriet Tubman in all but name. Right after acquiring the weaver equivalent of Excalibur(s) here, ethereal flashbacks of her leading a family to freedom sporadically pop up, in turn leading to other sources of Stigma that Hazel must then cleanse. The cycle will be all too familiar: disinter the tragic backstory that caused said corruption and then mend that wounded soul.
Of course, tackling heavier topics still requires a bit of finesse. “Well folks,” the hillbilly lumber tycoon says, “I gots t’ fire some of ya to account for our missed growth pru-jecsions. Plus, the missus wants a lake house.” Even if just one of a hundred or so collectible notes, such examples of messaging blunt force trauma feel unnecessary in a yarn that’s already weaving easily-digestible concepts. It’s also done through much of the music too, like how some of Arcane’s song lyrics simply regurgitate the emotion on-screen, but the eclectic variety of genres and the different ways trauma is manifested feel complementary, if still overwrought.
Given the dolorous tales of abandonment, abuse, and more, perhaps Compulsion’s best quality is contrasting them with such exceptional beauty. The Deep South has its familiar tropes – backwater trailer parks, vast stretches of bayou country, and so on – but most tend to forget that the Appalachian Mountains stretch down into north Alabama and Georgia too. Sometimes grotesque or unseemly imagery comes into focus, but more often Midnight is interested in golden-hour lighting, vast fields, or quaint wildlife investigating the land after the flood subsides. Olivier Derivière’s soundtrack is just as effervescent in exploring the world. I’ll never understand the phenomenon of how a gut-wrenching tragedy can become a toe-tapping ditty with just a mellifluous Southern drawl, a good banjo rhythm, and someone blowing into a ceramic liquor jug for good measure. The genres for these boss encounters may alternate (Southern gospel, blues, etc.), but they all capture a sincere emotion.
It’s hard not to drink up these sights and sounds given such well-realized aesthetics and tone. The bigger picture stuff of melding the real world and magical realism works well, sure, but it’s the details in between that carry so much energy: the storybook narration, the low-framerate stop-motion animation akin to the Spiderverse animated films, and even the woven lace patterns Hazel picks up after viewing flashbacks wholly sell this world. You can remove that stuttering look during gameplay, but you must watch the cutscenes on Compulsion’s terms. Given that the voice acting and sedulous stop-motion modeling aren’t far behind Laika Entertainment’s own work (Coraline, Kubo and the Two Strings), those rules are worth following simply to admire the artistry.
For all of the inimitable character suffused into Midnight’s presentation, it’s somewhat disheartening to see that not reflected in its gameplay. Hell, even Hazel’s initial response to securing her weaver hooks carries a degree of subdued expectation; as though she already understands the made-to-order action-adventure template that awaits. Anyone well-versed with the scene can immediately draw the correct conclusions. The melee-focused third-person combat centers around clubbing “Haints” to death, while also having a limited selection of special abilities on cooldown timers. The other gameplay half is platforming around white-painted ledges with the standard double-jumping, wall-running, gliding, and so on to reach places.
As the weaker of the two, the combat’s biggest misstep is simply the lack of any great hook. As easy as it is to fawn over Whitney Clayton & co’s visual design everywhere else, Midnight’s Stigma and Haints are the same sort of darkened corruption riddled with huge red boils you’ve undoubtedly seen before. There are also a few nettlesome hiccups that detract from its simple setup:
There’s no action canceling.
Beyond having no block nor parry, locking Hazel’s ability to chain two dodges midway through her limited upgrade tree is annoying.
Infrequent moments of recurring knockdowns just after recovering from the first.
Occasional camera hijinks.
None of these are necessarily game-breaking, but they speak to times when I could specifically blame the game’s systems for a game over. At least restarting with full health (even on Grand Weaver difficulty) helps in maintaining momentum. Regardless, the overall impression is one of a mostly-functional-if-perfunctory action-adventure that has you consistently going through semi-transparent barriers to fight in yet another well-kept combat arena.
Platforming may not have the same level of polish as higher-budgeted contemporaries, but at least the level design subtly beckons you to explore and experiment. Rewards only vary between Floofs (in-game currency for ability upgrades) and story collectibles, but there’s enough of a casual challenge from exploding mushrooms and pokey brambles to make the distraction worth it. There’s some intriguing potential with Hazel’s companion doll, Crouton, that’s sadly never realized. The opportunity was there for something grander than a temporary means of possessing an enemy in combat and being the tiny thing to fit in tight places for puzzles. There’s so little anyone can do with something that can only walk around and leap a mere angstrom off the ground. Crouton was the key to all of this!
To Midnight’s credit, though, it’s nevertheless respectable to see a 12-hour middle-market experience like this one. That doesn’t ameliorate the stated critiques, but it does elucidate the team’s priorities when weighing a $40 asking price. And hats off for having a Premium Edition ($50) that only contains supplementary content. I can’t remember the last time a game of this production caliber avoided locking away an exclusive cosmetic behind a pre-order or special edition.
In the end, South of Midnight’s dividing line is the contrast between its artistically-inspired choices and pre-packaged gameplay. Emphasizing the latter is perfectly reasonable; how you reach a conclusion plays a significant role alongside the who, what, where, and why. And seeing such propulsive enthusiasm within its few boss encounters not replicated more broadly does create a certain whiplash. However, my own teetering point stems from seeing Compulsion’s latest as – strangely – a collected sum of its parts, as if entrenching a standardized foundation was necessary to focus those creative energies everywhere else.
Contractor by trade and writer by hobby, Lee’s obnoxious criticisms have found a way to be featured across several gaming sites: N4G, VGChartz, Gaming Nexus, DarkStation, and TechRaptor! He started gaming in the mid-90s and has had the privilege in playing many games across a plethora of platforms. Reader warning: each click given to his articles only helps to inflate his Texas-sized ego. Proceed with caution.
Full Article – https://www.vgchartz.com/article/464655/south-of-midnight-xs/
