Reviews
[Review] ‘The Sinking City’ is an Engrossing Blend of Eldritch Horror and Detective Work
Bloody Disgusting departs for Oakmont and finds fish-faced terror, and cosmic horrors in The Sinking City review for PC.
A lot of modern horror games like to dabble in a bit of Lovecraft, few really delve into the man’s work as deeply as Frogwares’ The Sinking City.
By this I mean it doesn’t just slap a few tentacles on the box, ram in a sanity meter, and feature a bunch of mysterious writing alluding to cosmic beings. It has those things, of course, but The Sinking City takes on a lot more of Lovecraft’s trappings, including the less appealing undertones to it. You can’t say Frogwares hasn’t gone all in on trying to make a Lovecraftian story feel as authentic as possible as far as world-building goes.
What Frogwares also brings to the table is its exceptional detective systems from its underappreciated Sherlock Holmes games. By blending this with the Lovecraftian setting and story, Frogwares has perhaps made one of the most immersive and disturbing detective games for years.
We find ourselves in the gummy shoes of one Charles Reed, a war veteran turned private eye, whose sanity is slipping due to some unknown cause, and in an effort to find a cure, he heads to the city of Oakmont, which supposedly holds the key to his ailment, and likely holds some rather sinister secrets.
Oakmont is a decidedly grim-looking place from the moment you step off a boat and onto its waterfront (though due to flooding, Oakmont has a lot more waterfront than it should). If you played Call of Cthulhu earlier this year, then there’s an eerie similarity to the starting area in that game, a dilapidated harbor populated by an assortment of the thuggish and the surly sorts.
It’s a fairly large city, split into specific districts and all are full of dank and dreary life, and an oppressive atmosphere. Frogwares has filled it with detailed decay and ruin. This is not a thriving place, this is a dying one, a sinking one, and those still left in it are well suited to its sickness. Reed’s journey will take him not just through the streets of Oakmont, but to other, more otherworldly places too, so there’s plenty to explore. You’ll travel by boat to navigate some parts of the city due to the flood, and there’s even a trip to the briny deep itself, and that provides a whole new set of issues. In short, this is an expansive game world, and it is a delight to be in.
As he sets foot in Oakmont, Reed almost immediately strolls into a case he needs to solve in exchange for information. Charles gets to see the first of many grisly sights here, and this task is one of the more straightforward and morally sound things he’s asked to do during his time in Oakmont. All he will be asked of will be further stress on his increasingly frazzled mind, and that, in turn, will affect how the game plays out, so everything you do has to be carefully considered. From conversation to combat and beyond.
Oakmont is full of cruel-hearted opportunists, desperate, tortured souls, and miserable hatemongers, always looking to find an angle to negotiate for someone to do their dirty work, and Reed, with his particular set of snooping skills, is a hot commodity for these scoundrels, saps, and savages.
Charles Reed is not just a naturally good detective, it seems a side effect of his crumbling psyche is a set of supernatural powers that aide his investigation. These gifts allow him to see things others cannot, which in game terms means you can view reconstructions of crimes by piecing together clues, and discover short visions by interacting with relevant objects. Helpful, but it comes at a price for Reed. He is driven closer to the brink of madness with every use. Once Reed’s sanity slips far enough, he’ll hallucinate, and see some frankly weird shit. The trick to staving off this madness is to use a keen eye and methodical use of Reed’s powers to solve puzzles with the least amount of stress possible.
It adds an interesting wrinkle to Frogware’s sleuthing mechanics. On the one hand, the supernatural powers are a big help when you’re confounded by the clues in your possession, but on the other, you can’t rely on them explicitly. It’s a nice compromise between accessibility and mastery, and freshens up a tried and true formula. Frogwares also allows for several difficulty options for puzzles (and other aspects) so you can tailor The Sinking City to your preferred playing style.
Check Out This Concept Art For The Sinking City
When not using your time for investigative tasks, there’s plenty more for Reed to tackle. Conversations with the residents of Oakmont can branch off in a number of ways, and the consequences of them can be felt long after the last word. Nobody here is exactly decent as people go, and the ongoing war between rival families in Oakmont has left its mark on the mood of the place. Lives can be altered and there’s a high probability it won’t be for the better.
As if Oakmont wasn’t suffering enough, the waterlogged city has a monster problem. There’s some pretty interesting creature design too, blending the usual Lovecraftian far with things akin to something you’d find in The Evil Within or Silent Hill. The local populace does its best to avoid these stalking supernatural creatures, but they still claim victims as they move around the streets. Unfortunately for Reed, he can’t avoid them so easily, and that’s where combat comes into play, The Sinking City‘s weak point.
While you don’t have to fight everything (and you shouldn’t because combat with these nightmares put a further strain on Reed’s sanity), the story will inevitably take you places where confrontation is necessary. The Sinking City‘s gunplay is a tad clunky and slow to operate. It feels like a deliberate choice for the most part, but it leads to frustration on occasion, especially as the longer encounters go on, the more damage you end up doing to yourself in the long run. The other problem with so much combat is that it dulls the terror a bit to have so much protection against monsters, but in fairness, it is at least pretty fairly balanced so they don’t just feel like cannon fodder.
The only other gripe of note is on the technical side. Frogwares has often released games that have some technical hiccups and a lack of graphical polish, and that’s definitely the case here, but as with those previous titles, the visual style and mechanics of it more than make up for any shortcomings by showing a clear identity.
Frogwares has created an interesting and absorbing world of horror, and it’s deliciously rich in story and world-building. The sanity system works well, throwing some horrific visions at you, and capturing a feeling of nightmarish helplessness. Yes, it comes with some signature flaws too, but The Sinking City is a fine horror game and an engrossing detective RPG.
The Sinking City review code for PC provided by the publisher.
The Sinking City is out now on PS4, Xbox One, and PC. Nintendo Switch release later in 2019.
Reviews
‘Cape Fear’ Redefines A Cutthroat Classic & Turns The American Dream Into A Psychological Nightmare [Review]
Hollywood has been stuck in a trend where a recognizable property — any recognizable property — holds more value than an original idea. This has led to a trend where a slew of acclaimed films have transitioned over to television and become limited series, because why not?
Which has led to a very mixed bag of results that’s usually viewed as a hollow exercise in IP renewal that’s become a growing cliche that’s something to mock. Dead Ringers, Fatal Attraction, Presumed Innocent, and even The Birds are just some of the most recent titles in the movie-to-limited series pipeline. Admittedly, this formula can still work. It just needs to actually have not only a point of view, but a point, otherwise it’s destined to disappear into the vast streaming abyss.
Cape Fear definitely has a point of view and is well aware that it’s the fourth proper adaptation of this story — fifth if The Simpsons’ masterful “Cape Feare” parody is included. It’s an adaptation that’s not only aware of its past’s baggage, but intentionally embraces it and uses it to its advantage. Nick Antosca’s Cape Fear is so exciting because it functions as a remix of every version of this story — the ’60s film, Martin Scorsese’s ’90s remake, and John D. MacDonald’s original novel, The Executioners — to create this glorious amalgamation of the narrative. It’s not unlike what was done with Bryan Fuller’s Hannibal series and how it remixed the breadth of Thomas Harris’ works and their cinematic adaptations.
This approach is most effective when certain iconic scenes from the ’90s film are recontextualized and given to different characters in order to make grander thematic statements. It’s a really striking approach that reflects the generational ripples and overlap between these adaptations, yet it’s never distracting or ostentatious to anyone who is experiencing this story for the first time. It helps this series feel different from the deluge of forgettable adaptations that are flooding the market.
On paper, Antosca is the perfect showrunner to tell this story. He has an impressive body of work to pull from that includes horror series like Channel Zero, Hannibal, and Brand New Cherry Flavor, but also lots of true-crime titles like The Act, A Friend of the Family, and Candy. This series falls squarely within these two extremes as it blurs the lines between these genres and styles of horror storytelling. It’s Big Little Lies on bath salts. Cape Fear perhaps doesn’t need to exist, but it’s still a hell of a terrifying experience that has something timely to say.
Horror is full of stories in which one bad day is all it takes to break someone and turn them into a completely different person. Cape Fear isn’t doing exactly this. It’s more of a psychological waterboarding until the target’s sense of self is eroded to rubble. However, it takes the kernel of this idea and expands it onto the pristine ideal of the picturesque American family. It plays with the self-aware realization that the stories we tell are not necessarily what we think they are.
It’s a story about forgiveness, salvation, and revenge that blows up the Bowden family when a violent offender, Max Cady (Javier Bardem), is released from prison and systematically sets his sights on the people he holds accountable. Anna and Tom Bowden (Amy Adams and Patrick Wilson), the married couple who represented his case in court, receive a rude awakening when Cady’s psychological torture tour begins. Cape Fear, as a property, is most famously known for being the ultimate cat-and-mouse psychological thriller. This rendition culminates in such an explosive climax that’s right out of a slasher film.
Antosca was involved with an unproduced Friday the 13th reboot draft back in 2015, and there are certainly moments in which Max Cady moves with the hulking intensity of Jason Voorhees. So much of what makes all this work rests on Bardem’s complex performance. He’s very careful not to just copy Robert Mitchum or Robert De Niro’s versions of Cady, while he also taps into a terrifying intensity that feels completely different from what he brought forward with No Country for Old Men’s Anton Chigurh.
Apple TV’s new series also introduces a mental injury to Cady that adds psychological fractures that pull him between different versions of events as he struggles to grasp the truth. It’s an element that’s not exactly necessary and often feels like a convenient obstacle that can be activated whenever necessary. However, it allows for some creative visual flourishes and more opportunities for Bardem to get lost in Cady’s complexities.
Opposite Bardem’s Cady, Adams and Wilson do some of their best work as Anna and Tom. Anna is much more front and center than Tom, and Cape Fear is really Adams and Bardem’s time to shine. Wilson still does amazing, understated work, especially whenever the rug gets pulled out from under him regarding someone in his family. The visceral, brutal violence that Cady introduces to the Bowden family hits hard and highlights the anger and intensity that’s fundamental to this story.
What Cape Fear does best is its enlightening deconstruction of the ideal American family, how much work it takes to preserve such a pure thing, and the lengths that people go when they feel like the sanctity of this union is under fire. All it takes is for one of these foundational pillars to weaken before the whole unit becomes compromised. It moves the damage and pressure from one family member to the next as everyone struggles, and it’s unclear what will be left of this family when all is said and done.
This dynamic makes Cape Fear’s story so much more layered and interesting than if the series were just focused on Cady, Anna, and Tom, rather than making their children as much of a priority. Each member of the Bowden family experiences their own obstacles and arcs, although Natalie (Lily Collias) and Zack’s (Joe Anders) storylines are often the most grating. It all boils down to forgiveness, identity, and wanting to be perceived as the person we think we are, versus how we’re viewed by the public, and the dangerous dissonance that can exist between these separate selves.
These ideas are at their most potent when Cape Fear taps into the growing paranoia that bubbles up to the surface and becomes unbearable, so that even the littlest action is triggering. These moments are usually captured through a more erratic filming style that ramps up the tension for both the characters and the audience, unsure of what will strike and when.
Cape Fear never struggles to create uncomfortable setpieces where the anxiety just crescendos and hangs over the scene. On this note, the series’ musical score really captures the perfect aesthetic. It immediately evokes the suspenseful power of the previous Cape Fear films whenever Bernard Herrmann’s virtuosic original theme kicks in. It’s magic every single time.
Antosca delivers an exhilarating update to a classic thriller that pushes its source material to exciting, new places that justify its existence. It’s an exciting story that’s full of terrifying performances and cataclysmic consequences. Admittedly, Cape Fear could have been shortened to eight episodes rather than ten. There are a few plot threads that feel unnecessary and artificially expanded upon, but every episode is still an adrenaline-pumping experience.
If nothing else, it reminds audiences why Cape Fear is such an evergreen story that’s lasted the test of time and will continue to unnerve and get under the skin of whole new generations.
The 10-episode series will make its global debut on June 5 with a two-episode premiere on Apple TV, followed by new episodes every Friday through July 31, 2026.
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