South of Midnight Review

South
of
Midnight
is
like
a
bowl
of
Southern
gumbo
served
at
a
chain
restaurant.
It
looks
incredible.
Smells
great.
It’s
clearly
been
plated
with
love—gorgeous
presentation,
loads
of
style.
But
the
moment
you
dig
in,
something’s
off.
The
flavour’s
flat.
It’s
missing
that
soul,
that
secret
ingredient
passed
down
through
generations
in
a
dusty
old
recipe
book.
It’s
not
bad—it’s
just
bland.
And
that,
in
a
nutshell,
is
South
of
Midnight:
a
game
with
phenomenal
art
direction,
killer
atmosphere,
and
a
banging
soundtrack…
but
gameplay
that
feels
undercooked.

Hazel
Flood,
our
protagonist,
is
immediately
compelling.
She’s
pissed
off
with
her
mother—and
fair
enough.
Mama
took
too
long
helping
other
people
while
Hazel
was
left
packing
up
before
a
storm
hit,
scared
and
alone.
There’s
a
clear
love
between
them,
but
it’s
complicated
by
Hazel’s
frustration
at
always
coming
second.
What
Hazel
can’t
see—at
least
at
first—is
the
emotional
weight
her
mother
carries.
The
exhaustion.
The
quiet
sacrifices.
The
compulsive
need
to
help
others,
even
when
it
costs
her
time
with
her
daughter.

Available
On:
Xbox,
PC
Reviewed
On:
PC
Developed
By:
Compulsion
Games
Published
By:
Xbox
Games
Studio

Then
the
storm
hits.
Hazel’s
home
is
swept
away
by
floodwaters,
her
mother
along
with
it.
In
a
moment
that’s
both
tragic
and
surreal,
Hazel
sprints
after
her
drifting
house,
launching
herself
into
a
Southern
Gothic
fever
dream.
The
game
dives
headfirst
into
folklore
and
fairytale,
painting
a
world
of
magic,
trauma,
and
talking
catfish.
Some
creatures
want
to
help.
Others
want
Hazel
dead.
Typical
Tuesday
in
the
bayou,
really.

Hazel
is
a
“Weaver”,
a
magical
being
that
can
see
the
“strands”
that
weave
together
to
make
our
universe.
Using
these
powers
she
is
destined
to
help
heal
broken
souls
by
unravelling
their
“Stigmas”—psychic
trauma
knots
with
a
touch
of
magical
realism.
It’s
a
clever
concept,
one
that
lets
the
game
dip
into
themes
like
generational
pain,
forgiveness,
and
the
stories
we
tell
ourselves
to
survive.

And
hey,
sometimes
it

works.
Hazel’s
great.
The
voice
acting?
Excellent
across
the
board.
Some
of
the
characters
she
meets
are
equally
compelling.
But
for
every
strong
emotional
beat,
there’s
another
subplot
that
fizzles
out
like
a
damp
firework.
The
Benjy
and
brother
arc,
for
example,
insists
Hazel
“healed”
them…
but
I
was
left
staring
at
the
screen
wondering

how,
exactly.
Did
I
miss
a
scene?
A
dialogue
option?
A
side
quest
where
I
hugged
them
into
emotional
wholeness?
The
catchy
musical
number
that
narrates
Benjy’s
tragic
life
was
almost
enough
to
make
me
breeze
back
the
lack
of
real
closure.
Almost.

Graphically,
the
game
slaps
hard.
South
of
Midnight
looks
beautiful
and
employs
an
interesting
stop-motion
style.
In
other
words,
it
seems
like
every
few
frames
is
missing,
a
visual
quirk
you
might
have
seen
in
movies
like
Across
the
Spider-Verse
or
Puss
in
Boots:
The
Last
Wish.
The
art
style
looks
like
Southern
folklore
brought
to
life
through
muddy
bayou
magic,
earthy
colour
pallettes
and
exaggerated
animations.
It’s
a
little
bit
Tim
Burton,
a
smidgen
Guillermo
del
Toro,
but
with
its
own
twisted
charm.

The
obvious
flaw
of
stop-motion
in
a
video
game
is
that
it
can
come
across
not
as
an
artistic
choice,
but
more
like
your
frame
rate
deciding
to
go
on
a
vacation.
Is
my
ancient
Nvidia
1080ti
finally
dying?
Nah,
it’s
just
the
stop-motion
doing
its
thing.
Luckily,
the
game’s
performance
seems
stable,
which
is
great
because
I’m
sure
stop-motion
and
a
low
FPS
would
be
horrible
to
look
at.
If
anything,
I
actually
wish
the
game
had
leaned
harder
into
the
stop-motion
because
I
honestly
didn’t
notice
it
most
of
the
time.

Oh,
and
you
can
opt
to
turn
off
the
stop-motion
if
you
want.
Unfortunately,
you
can
only
turn
it
off
in
gameplay
–
cutscenes
will
still
have
those
missing
frames.

If
the
visual
presentation
is
killer,
then
the
soundtrack
is
glorious
fucking
murder
(in
the
best
way)
committed
by
composer
Olivier
Deriviere.
Hand
this
man
an
award
or
five,
because
his
soulful,
catchy
tunes
abound,
from
the
quieter
backing
tracks
that
help
set
the
mood
as
you
explore
swamps
to
the
jazzy
tracks
that
are
unique
to
individual
levels
and
encounters.
Some
tracks
even
have
lyrics
tied
to
specific
characters,
giving
scenes
a
punch
of
theatrical
flair.
It’s
the
kind
of
soundtrack
that
deserves
an
award—and
probably
a
vinyl
release.
The
price
I
paid
for
the
Premium
Edition
upgrade
was
worth
it
just
to
get
my
grubby-ass
hands
on
the
OST.

Diving
into
the
gameplay,
though?
Mid.
Sometimes,
even
less
than
that.

This
purely
a
linear,
guided
game
and
I’m
perfectly
okay
with
that.
It’s
honestly
refreshing
to
step
back
from
the
endless
parade
of
open-world
adventures
that
expect
me
to
spend
80
hours
on
nonsense.
The
controlled
nature
of
games
like
this
should
allow
for
smarter
pacing,
and
for
the
most
part
that’s
what
South
of
Midnight
manages
to
do
as
it
brings
you
on
a
tour
of
thorny
forests,
creepy
bayous
and
farmland.

The
combat
is
aggressively
mid.
Hazel
charges
into
battle
with
exactly
one
attack
button
and
zero
remorse.
You’ll
spam
it
like
a
‘Buy
Now’
button
on
a
sneaker
drop.
That’s
it.
You
can
unlock
some
extra
powers—possessing
enemies,
yanking
them
around—but
they
feel
like
seasoning
sprinkled
on
stale
meat.
They’re
boring,
and
have
been
done
far
better
in
numerous
other
games.

The
game
tries
to
ramp
up
difficulty
by
throwing
more
enemies
at
you,
but
the
combat
system
clearly
wasn’t
built
for
crowd
control.
After
a
few
hours,
you’ll
have
seen
every
enemy
type,
every
combo
(all
one
of
them),
and
every
identical
“arena”
layout
the
game
has
to
offer.
Toward
the
end,
I
started
sighing
every
time
I
stumbled
into
another
sealed-off
fight
zone.
Not
because
it
was

hard,
but
because
it
was

predictable.
On
top
of
that,
enemies
all
kind
of
look
the
same,
and
there
are
issues
with
reading
enemy
attacks,
especially
the
basic
Haint’s
strikes.
But
on
the
plus
side,
I
did
learn
that
“haints”
are
an
actual
old
south
form
of
ghost,
so
that’s
cool.

Platforming
fares
no
better.
It’s
the
same
basic
climb-and-jump
setup
we’ve
had
since
the

Uncharted
days.
Hazel
can
summon
ghostly
objects
to
climb
and
zip
around
a
bit
like
bayou
Spider-Man,
but
the
game
never
asks
you
to
do
anything
clever
with
those
tools.
No
timing
puzzles.
No
tight
movement
challenges.
Just
“go
here,
press
button,
move
on.”

Exploration
is
barely
worth
mentioning.
Despite
some
lovely
level
design,
it’s
mostly
window
dressing.
You
can
collect
“Floofs”
(yes,
that’s
really
what
they’re
called),
the
game’s
currency
for
an
upgrade
system
that
really
doesn’t
have
anything
worth
talking
about.

The
whole
game
adheres
to
a
rigid
structure
that
becomes
repetitive
after
just
a
few
chapters.
A
bit
of
platforming,
another
obvious
combat
arena
where
you
are
sealed
in
until
everything
is
dead,
a
bit
more
platforming,
a
brain-numbingly
simplistic
puzzle,
another
arena
and
repeat
until
the
credit’s
roll.
All
of
this
always
leads
to
a
slightly
open
area
where
you
unravel
4
bits
of
Stigma
which
lets
you
finish
up
the
chapter,
sometimes
leading
to
a
boss
fight.
Then
you
repeat
it
all
over
again
about
ten
times.

Boss
fights?
A
mixed
bag.
Visually
and
musically,
they’re
glorious.
Each
one
looks
like
a
fever
dream
and
sounds
like
a
Broadway
number
staged
in
Hell.
But
mechanically,
they’re
insultingly
simple.
Rule
of
threes
is
in
full,
unrelenting
force.
Dodge,
hit,
repeat.
The
final
boss
in
particular
was
a
narrative
and
gameplay
wet
fart.
No
tension.
No
payoff.
Just…
done.
Although
the
overall
narrative
wasn’t
anything
amazing,
the
game’s
southern
vibes,
characters
and
foot-tapping
good
music
did
have
me
eager
to
see
the
end,
but
when
the
credits
rolled
it
just
didn’t
quite
land.

Look,
by
their
very
nature
games
are
repetitive
and
have
repetitive
structures.
They
are
built
around
gameplay
loops,
after
all.
But
the
best
developers
can
hide
this
fact,
using
interesting
twists
on
established
gameplay,
narrative,
presentation
and
other
tricks
to
distract
you
from
the
repetition.
Or,
of
course,
the
gameplay
can
just
be
so
good
that
you
don’t
care
about
the
repetition.
But
since
the
combat,
puzzle
solving
and
platforming
in
South
of
Midnight
are
weak,
the
rigid
structure
of
the
game
becomes
more
and
more
pronounced
as
you
play.

In
Conclusion…

⭐⭐⭐

Rating:
3
out
of
5.

South
of
Midnight
left
a
mark.
Not
because
it
plays
great—but
because
it

tries
to
say
something.
About
grief,
about
legacy,
about
rhythm
and
soul.
It
doesn’t
always
hit
the
mark,
but
it

tries.
It’s
a
shame
the
gameplay
couldn’t
keep
up
with
the
vibe.
It
just
needed
a
bit
more
time
put
into
the
gameplay
and
a
bit
less
into
everything
else.
But
then
again,
if
Compulsion
did
that,
South
of
Midnight
wouldn’t
be
anywhere
near
as
interesting
as
it
is.
But
if
Compulsion
Games
ever
make
an
animated
film?
I’m
first
in
line.
Preferably
with
a
proper
bowl
of
gumbo.