Connect with us

Reviews

‘You’re in Space and Everything’s Fucked’ Review – Gore-Drenched RPG Stands Out from the Crowd

Published

on

You’re in Space and Everything’s Fucked. It’s both an eye-catching title and a quick summary of the new gore-drenched sci-fi tabletop RPG by Nevyn Holmes. The game, inspired by video games like System Shock and Dead Space, is designed for a GM and one to four players. After a successful Kickstarter in April, You’re in Space and Everything’s Fucked has been released digitally with a physical release coming later this year. While space horror is a well-trodden subgenre in the tabletop world, with notable titles like Alien RPG and Mothership, this new game has plenty of unique features to help it stand out from the crowd.

There are two books that come with You’re in Space and Everything’s Fucked, one for the game master, or Station, and one for the players, or Strugglers. While there is duplicate information presented in both books, they manage to keep each clean and concise, making for a quick and breezy read. There’s a scratchy, rough look to the art style that makes it feel grimy and attractively threatening. The red/black/white color palette makes the layouts pop, giving both books a distinct visual identity that matches its aggressive tone.

The game is designed for you to get up and running super quickly, so character creation is incredibly simple and streamlined. You only have two stats: TECH and FLESH, representing your proficiency with using technology and your physical prowess respectively. In addition, you’ll also have a background that can come into play mechanically and a unique tool that can give you a leg up in tense situations. When making an action roll, you’ll create a pool of D6s, starting with one, then adding additional dice for your relevant stat, any fictional advantages you may have from your background or items, then subtracting dice for disadvantages or wounds. Once you roll that pool, you count up the number of 5s and 6s, or hits, to see what happened. Zero hits is a failure, one to two hits is a success at a cost, while three or more is a full success. Before you roll you can also declare you’re spending either Luck or Will, a pair of resources that will give you an automatic success on an action. Overall, it’s an easy system that really encourages you to describe your actions fully in order to negotiate for advantages.

In order to make the station you’re exploring feel as threatening as possible, the player characters are fragile. On failures and mixed successes, you will take Wounds. Your first Wound is something that can be quickly patched up, like a dislocated shoulder. Your second Wound is something more gruesome, like a severed hand. Your third Wound is your painful, gory death. While this may seem punishing, You’re in Space and Everything’s Fucked borrows an important mechanic from video games: the Save Point. As you explore you’ll either find save rooms on the map or create them by spending Will or Luck. Upon your death, you’ll respawn there with one item and some amount of character progression, while the rest of your items will be left on your corpse where you died, ready for you to pick up at your leisure. But be warned, the world will change upon your revival. There’s no canonical explanation given in-fiction for the Save Point, but players are encouraged to make up one that fits the type of story they’re trying to tell, whether it’s a cloning pod or some sort of automated occult ritual machine. This video game mechanic perfectly translates to the table, as it allows you to still feel the tension of being weak without permanently punishing you for failure.

Similar to character creation, You’re in Space and Everything’s Fucked streamlines the process of GMing the game, encouraging you to prep as little as possible and generate the adventure during play. The game lists a few questions you should answer before starting to make sure you have a clear vision of your version of the Station, but once you have that it’s off to the races. As you play, you’ll be creating the map that the characters are exploring and filling it with various threats. There’s a table to roll on every time a character enters a new room, which will help determine the type and contents of the room they’ll enter. Maybe it will be a large, gore-filled med bay with a monster, or maybe they’ll run into a new ‘friend’ in a pristine meeting room, it’s all up to the dice. To keep driving exploration, the GM will always provide the player with an objective for them to pursue, which will often have sub objectives to complete along the way.

Just like generating rooms, there’s also a table to generate the horrific monsters that populate the station. You’ll roll to determine their HP, size, number of limbs, body type and other extra features to make them particularly dangerous and disgusting. Each will have a weak point that can be exploited by the player, if they are able to figure it out during the fight. The station guide has a section with pre-generated monsters to either use in your game or take inspiration from for your own creations. The premade monsters do a good job of conveying the wide range of tones that the game can encompass, from tiny exploding space scorpions to a being just called the “Cosmic Hell-Thing.”

While the game supports one to four players along with the GM, it really was designed for just one player, and that’s where it feels like the sweet spot is. Playing at that player count helps drive forward the desperate lonely tone of the video games it’s trying to emulate, making for a wholly unique feeling among tabletop RPGs. The video game-like rhythm of searching rooms and facing down horrors is a fun one to fall into, and the random tables keep everyone on their toes. If you want to play with more, there’s a couple pages of advice that help you with methods for adjusting to a higher player count without losing the tension and dread at the table.

The back of the book is full of additional random tables, ranging from items to strange occurrences, but I still wish there were just a few more concrete examples of how to play. Sometimes there are terms mentioned in the rules where it’s not clear if they are just fictional or have some mechanical ramifications as well. For a rules light game, it’s fine to leave that up to the GM, but sometimes a little more clarification can help people from getting tripped up on things like that. Another thing I would have loved to see is a completed map, both to help me wrap my head around the recommended scope of the station and to see the best way to represent it visually. The successful Kickstarter was able to fund a zine called Found Transmissions, which will include some prewritten missions, so maybe future content will have the examples I’m looking for. Despite my small wishlist for additional content, there’s definitely enough here to help facilitate the game.

You’re in Space and Everything’s Fucked is a game definitely worthy of its title. It’s fast and easy to pick up, providing a compelling and surprising experience for the players and GM alike. I’m always excited to see what video games and tabletop RPGs can learn from each other, and this game takes all the right lessons from survival horror and creates an experience that accurately translates the genre to the tabletop RPG space. Usually character death is something that’s meant to be avoided in tabletop RPGs, but You’re in Space and Everything’s Fucked makes it a joyous part of the experience.

4 out of 5 skulls

Game Designer, Tabletop RPG GM, and comic book aficionado.

Advertisement
Click to comment

Reviews

‘The King Tide’: An Island Town Rots with Moral Decay in Canadian Folk Horror Fable [Review]

Published

on

Isla (Alix West Lefler) holds up a hand covered in bees

The opening scenes of director Christian Sparkes The King Tide set an ominous tone: a powerful storm takes down the power lines of a small island town as a pregnant woman loses her child while her dementia-suffering mother sits nearby. In the morning, as the town takes stock of the damage and the power is restored, a surprising discovery is found in an overturned boat in the harbour: a baby girl…with the ability to heal.

Writers Albert Shin and William Woods, working from a story by Kevin Coughlin and Ryan Grassby, treat the story as something of a morality tale mixed with a fable. Following the cold open, the action jumps ahead 10 years at a point when the unnamed island (the film was shot in Newfoundland, Canada) is thriving. The fishing is bountiful, the islanders are self-sufficient and have cut ties with the mainland, and most everyone is happy.

As characters are prone to saying, it’s all thanks to Isla (Alix West Lefler), the miracle baby who has grown up worshipped by the islanders. While Mayor Bobby Bentham (Clayne Crawford) and his wife Grace (Lara Jean Chorostecki) endeavor to raise Isla like any other little girl, the reality is that the island’s entire ecosystem revolves around her miraculous powers. It is only because of Isla that they survive; every aspect of their lives – from medicine to food – relies on her.

Each day the citizens line up for their allotted time with the young girl – be it to stave off breast cancer, like Charlotte (Kathryn Greenwood), or recover from another night of heavy drinking like former doctor, Beau (Aden Young). There’s even a predetermined schedule for when she will go out on the boats and use her power to lure fish into the nets.

Bobby (Clayne Crawford) watches adopted daughter Isla (Alix West Lefler) write in candlelight

One fateful day, Bobby succumbs to peer pressure and alters Isla’s schedule at the last minute to accompany cod fishermen Marlon (Michael Greyeyes) and Dillon (Ryan McDonald). A childish game with fatal consequences is played, but with Isla indisposed, a young boy, who would have otherwise been fine, dies. And while the rest of the community grieves, it is Isla who is completely shaken and, unexpectedly, loses her powers.

Suddenly the entire balance of the island is thrown off. Folks like Grace’s mother, Faye (Frances Fisher), who relied on Isla to keep her dementia at bay, suddenly reckon with mortality, while the food security of the town is called into question. Faye’s late-night “support group” meetings take on an urgent and secretive tone and the townspeople claim ownership of Isla’s time despite Bobby and Beau’s protests that she needs rest to recover from her trauma.

Like the best thrillers, the politics and personalities within the community come into play as morals are compromised and the good of individuals vs the collective is played out in increasingly desperate situations. The King Tide excels because it is interested in exploring the competing motivations of the townspeople, while also resolutely refusing to paint anyone as inherently good or bad. These are desperate people, determined to remain independent and free from outside interference, while protecting their trapped-in-amber way of life.

Isla (Alix West Lefler) sits with her back to the camera in a doorway

These developments work because there’s a humanity to the characters and The King Tide wisely relies heavily on its deep bench castoff character actors to drive the conflict. Crawford is the de facto protagonist of the ensemble and he’s also the most straightforward character: Bobby is a good man and a loving father, but he’s no white knight. At several points in the film, his willingness to acquiesce to the demands of the community and retain his power causes events to spiral further out of control.

Even more fascinating are Grace and Faye, two commanding women whose capacity for maternal love is matched – or eclipsed – by their own self-interests. A mid-film discovery about Isla’s power reframes Grace’s priorities, ultimately pitting her against her husband. As a result, Grace is incredibly compelling and frustrating (in a good way) and Chorostecki, who has done great genre work on both Hannibal to Chucky, plays the moral ambiguity exactly right. Grace is a fascinating and flawed human character in a film filled with them.

The same goes for Fisher, who deftly balances Faye’s grandmotherly love for Isla with the needs of the community and, by extension, her own health demands. In the hands of a lesser performer, it would be easy to hate Faye for her actions, but Fisher’s performance perfectly captures the fierce determination and fear that drives the island’s matriarch.

Finally, there’s Aden Young, The King Tide’s secret weapon. The ten-year jump reveals that Beau has undergone the most significant transformation: while everyone else has benefitted from Isla’s powers, her presence has eliminated the need for a doctor. With the clinic effectively shuttered, Beau has become an alcoholic; a shell of his former self with no purpose.

Like Bobby, Beau is the easiest character to root for because of his selfless desire to protect Isla, but Young (renowned for his work with Crawford on Rectify) unlocks the character’s tragic pathos and, in the process, becomes the film’s emotional anchor.

Beau (Aden Young - L) stands in a room full of children's toys with Faye (Frances Fisher)

Framing the moral decline of the islanders and anticipating the unexpectedly devastating climax is the natural beauty of Newfoundland. As shot by cinematographer Mike McLaughlin, there’s a steely beauty to the geography, resplendent with rocky cliffs, pounding surf, and gusty bluffs that reinforce the islanders’ isolation.

There’s a fierce pride in their struggle to survive independently, evident in the simple lodgings and the antiquated alarm bell that is rung whenever fishing ships from the mainland stray too close. It’s a chilly, atmospheric calling card for one of the most picturesque provinces in Canada, but it is a perfect complement for the folk horror narrative.

Armed with serene, beautiful cinematography, murky moral developments, and a deep bench of talented character actors, The King Tide is a quiet gem that demands to be seen. It’s one of the year’s best genre films.

The King Tide is in theaters April 26, 2024.

4.5 skulls out of 5

Continue Reading