Review | Crow Country - The Birds And The Zombies
Every survival horror enthusiast remembers the original Resident Evil’s CGI zombie cutscene. The wide-eyed, melon-headed undead predator sizing up his next kill was a defining moment for the genre, and what’s more, I think most would agree that the first version was far scarier than the second iteration from the 2002 remake. While a lot was gained in beautiful, photo-realistic pre-rendered environments, that intrinsically unsettling uncanniness was lost.
Thankfully, though, these unique sorts of scares – ironically owed to a lack of realism – have been brought back to life by the indie horror scene, and the latest PSX-inspired effort is Crow Country.
They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but homage alone does not maketh the game. In this case, though, imitation brought to bear something new altogether.
Upon starting the game, it’s immediately apparent the developers know their source material inside out. Mysterious main girl Mara certainly looks the part with her segmented Final Fantasy 7-esque limbs, and our starting area at the entrance of the abandoned Crow Country theme park evokes much of the Spencer Mansion’s liminal eeriness.
SFB Games has managed to infuse the essence of the new wave of analogue horror with an authentic 32-bit graphical style: there’s a VHS grain cast over the whole thing and just enough restraint on the Five Nights at Freddy’s vibe so as not to come across as too hokey.
The park’s design itself is my favourite aspect of the game. Everything is fully polygonal, and while I’d love to see more horror titles revisit the 2D art of the RE 1 Remake, Crow Country’s map is far more impressive for having three dimensions.
The visuals make for an oddly juxtaposing mix of cute and depressing – like how I might imagine my Animal Crossing: Wild World town might look if I dared re-enter it after over a decade of neglect. The once-friendly faces of the park’s many anthropomorphic statues punctuate a horridly dilapidated world; from the sprawling Ocean Kingdom and Haunted Hilltop areas to the backrooms-inspired staff areas and many other smaller attractions, the place is saturated in misery at every corner. Of course, what’s actually happened here is a tightly held secret.
Credit must also be given to the stellar sound direction. From characteristic save-room symphonies to discordant swelling pads, the audio goes a long way in recreating the telltale ‘90s atmosphere.
We don’t meet many human characters throughout the eight-hour playtime, but those we do encounter are imbued with the same sort of charm found in classic point-and-click games. Mara’s inner monologue alone consistently provides a laugh during an otherwise bleak adventure, and the eclectic mix of Cluedo-style personalities pop up just often enough to not spoil the desolate tone. The story feels predictable at first, but the way it comes together – with a genuinely clever ending – kept me hooked.
As is the case for any survival horror title worth its salt, the park itself represents the ultimate personified threat. Crow Country feels to be a puzzle game at heart, and like its predecessors, each brain teaser solved forms a minor part of a grand, overarching jigsaw. It’s an enticing paper trail that quickly gains momentum. Most of the puzzles strike a good balance in their difficulty, and even the super easy ones are at least inventive and unique.
Of course, this wouldn’t be much of a survival horror game without some monsters to shoot, and there’s plenty of that. It wasn’t long before I became acquainted with the ‘Guests’ and their many increasingly malformed variants, and while you can use classic tank controls to manoeuvre through combat, I opted for the free aiming option with the analogue stick. Whether it's the trusty handgun, much-appreciated double-barreled shotgun, or other secret weapons I won’t spoil, each piece offers the satisfying death blow you’d hope for.
The controls can be a little finicky, but that feels intentional. The anxiety of adapting to clunky retro layouts adds to the tension of combat, and the game did a good job replicating the classic feel with enough of a modern touch so as not to turn off players unacquainted with a less contemporary setup.
Striking that balance in appealing to both new and old players, though, is where the game is at its most polarising. Many would argue unfairness is part of the fabric of survival horror; crucial to the fun is the impetus to adapt to highly stressful situations – to make tough decisions and be resourceful with inventory management. There’s barely any of that here in Crow Country.
The best survival horror games have you questioning every precious shot fired, and there just isn’t that quintessential intensity you’d find in Resident Evil or Dead Space. Most enemies – even the bosses – provide little threat, and while I love it, the graphical style doesn’t exactly induce a true state of fear.
The game cleverly manages to fabricate a sense of nostalgia for something that never really existed in the first place: it injects enough PSX to make you think otherwise but ultimately offers something fresh by dabbling in many different contemporary design philosophies. For that reason, this isn’t going to do it for those seeking the classic visceral challenge. Your willingness to welcome and accept that will largely dictate your experience.
In establishing these distinctions, the interesting discussion revolves around exactly what Crow Country is. Despite going to great lengths to imitate the flavor of the past, it feels more like a parody of that era rather than a painstaking recreation. For me, that isn’t a bad thing.
I went in hoping to revisit classic survival horror. I didn’t fully get that experience, but what it got traded in for I thoroughly enjoyed all the same.
Postscript: A Hard Mode has recently been added to the game. I’ve only had time to play an hour or so with the new mode, but I can say that the challenge is significantly amped up in a number of clever ways, such as drastically decreasing ammo availability, making enemies harder to kill, and offering new secrets I’ll let you discover on your own. Crow Country now feels much more complete as a classic survival horror experience.
