Reviews
[Review] ‘Tormented Souls’ is a Scrappy Throwback Survival Horror Experience
While plenty of indie developers have captured the essence of survival horror as it was on the original PlayStation, far fewer have managed to do so with the PlayStation 2 era of the sub-genre. This was arguably the peak of it at the time. Those few precious years, before the impact of Resident Evil 4 shifted the goalposts, housed memorable cult favorites such as ObScure, Rule of Rose, and Haunting Ground, as well as the more noted classics of the generation such as Silent Hill 2.
Flaws and all, Tormented Souls feels like it belongs in that era. Its developer, Dual Effect, has seemingly made a survival horror throwback that understands its influences remarkably well whilst not forgetting to throw in a few modern quality of life touches to the package to ensure it slips comfortably between nostalgia and ease of use. There’s a real mean streak to it that calls upon the more controversial games of that era. Tormented Souls is gleeful in its character’s suffering, which is something many throwbacks try to compromise on. It doesn’t make it a better game necessarily, but it does show confidence.
The setup to Tormented Souls makes it abundantly clear just how indebted to the early 2000s formula it is. The protagonist, Caroline Walker, heads to Winterlake Mansion, which serves as a hospital, in search of twin girls from a photograph she received. Upon arriving, Caroline is knocked out, and awakens in a bathtub, with a tube from a respirator lodged down her throat. Oh, and someone’s cut her eye out. Not off to the best of starts is our poor Caroline.
So Caroline begins to explore the dark, and seemingly abandoned mansion/hospital, only having the flame of a lighter and the odd candle to illuminate the gloom. It’s a survival horror game, so you’d be correct to assume that some shit goes down that makes escape difficult, but wholly necessary for her continued survival. It’s a tale as old as time, with more than an air of the melodramatic and enough oak-paneled line delivery to make a substantially-sized cabin. Tormented Souls’ tale already feels strangely comforting in its rougher edges.

Tormented Souls’ environments are very much the star of the show as it stands. The grimy, dark halls of the hospital areas hint at a bloody history and their intersection with the mansion’s grandiose decor tells its own story. The game opts for a classic fixed camera which really helps to highlight the scenery properly and set the mood and atmosphere up superbly well. The dark in the game is truly blinding without a portable light source to hand, and staying in it negatively affects Caroline’s state of mind. You’re repeatedly asked to decide on the best course of action whilst in gloom. You could run through it and keep your weapon ready, or you could ensure you don’t blindly stumble into a horrifying situation by equipping your lighter.
The build-up to the first enemy encounter is nicely done. The building creaks in that unnerving way so many old buildings do, and occasionally something will fall somewhere, and after accessing the basement level, Caroline catches a glimpse of something ahead of her, and shortly after is confronted by a grotesque figure in a wheelchair and they’re wielding some pretty stabby-looking knives. This foe doesn’t move especially quickly, but there’s an unnerving swiftness to the way they wheel themselves towards Caroline, the squeak of the wheels increasing in volume as they gain ground on her. I’m not a fan of wheelchairs being used as horror devices, but like anything used to garner terror, it’s more to do with how much thought goes into the reasons behind its use. While I can’t speak for that enemy’s backstory, which doesn’t do it any favors, I can appreciate the use of the wheel squeaks to ramp up the intensity.
Caroline escapes from them soon enough, and finds herself in an X-Ray room that’s apparently now also a chapel, as a priest is reading a shrouded corpse its last rites. The priest says he’s met Caroline just days before, she has no memory of that. He also casually mentions that there’s an evil presence about, the staff and patients of the hospital have moved on to a new site, and the lights are out because the generator is playing up. Lucky Caroline (and you, the player) you get to go fix it for him.
In the preview build, I’d run into some issues with stuttering audio from characters, coupled with some low rent line delivery. This interaction was the first instance where it really hurt the game, and it showed no signs of getting better as the preview continued on. Happily, the stuttering is now a rarity, and the dialogue, while still decidedly naff, is at least consistent in that quality.

Back to the action. Caroline leaves to go and fix the generator and has to solve a pressure display puzzle by sorting valves out. What I like about Tormented Souls’ puzzles is that the inventory screen is right there alongside the puzzle in question, so you don’t have to flit between menus or the puzzle to find that code or item. When interacting with anything, the game moves from third-person to a first-person perspective, allowing you to examine everything relevant without back-tracking between the game and its menu screens. Nothing mind-blowing, but a nice touch.
With the generator fixed, Caroline is sent to explore the rest of the mansion, and even with more light, there’s plenty of disturbing things that are going to get between her and her quest for knowledge. Luckily she now packs a nailgun to ward off evildoers in the punchiest way possible, and some morphine to cure what ails her. Perhaps it’s best if you stop by and save your progress (Using a Magnetophon) first though, eh?
The nailgun works much like any gun in tank control survival horror, but it’s sometimes difficult to tell if you’re actually hurting your foes. Some scuttle about low on the ground and are hard to target as a result. They don’t always show up alone either, meaning you’re often best just running away instead. When it matters most though, the aiming system works well enough to overcome whatever new heinous beast Tormented Souls throws at you.
The relatively rudimentary control scheme makes perfect sense for the kind of horror game Tormented Souls wants to be. Tank controls have always been about imbibing the situation with a big syrupy dose of nightmare fuel. That almost unbearable dreamlike balance between being just quick enough to realize you’re in trouble, but too slow to easily escape it is a superb tool when used appropriately, and Tormented Souls largely succeeds at it. Besides, it handles nowhere near as treacly as the biggest offenders in the genre.

Yes, you could argue that in trying so hard to make a game for the mid-2000s in 2021 leaves the developer with a game that’s fundamentally dated before it began, but that’s the point. All the modern indie horror games that work get that. Compromises will certainly bring you a bigger audience, but games like Tormented Souls, as scraggly and mean-spirited as the games that inspired them, are far more likely to scratch that itch for survival horror’s golden era, rough edges and all.

Tormented Souls review code for PS5 provided by the publisher.
Tormented Souls comes to PC, Xbox Series X/S, PS5, and Nintendo Switch on August 27
Movies
‘Recluse’ Review – Harrowing Haunted House Horror With Lots Of Skeletons In Its Closet [Tribeca 2026]
A haunted house story is tense, terrifying storytelling when it’s properly executed. There’s been a growing tendency in horror to blend together harrowing haunted house stories with traumatic homecomings. A family member’s illness or death triggers a return to something dark that was intentionally left behind. Recluse hits all the tropes that one expects to find in this type of horror film, yet it manages to push this story in a daring, disturbing new direction that uses sound as a superpower.
It’s a unique lens to experience a familiar story about family secrets, generational trauma, unresolved grief, and the importance of not just legacy, but preservation. It’s a hell of a directorial debut from Henry Chaisson that’s guaranteed to get under the audience’s skin as they’re dragged through this painful, toxic tale.
Recluse is a gothic haunted house story where an isolated audio engineer, Joan (Sasha Frolova), returns to her family’s estate to check in on her father after he suffers a terrible accident. Joan suddenly discovers something much more sinister that paints her family’s tragedies in a very different light. Chaisson’s debut functions as a fascinating companion piece to this year’s undertone, which does a lot of the same things.
These two films make for a fascinating case of parallel thinking that tackles comparable subject matter through a similar lens, albeit in a bigger, less claustrophobic story in Recluse’s case. In fact, it’s the perfect horror film for anyone who was let down by undertone and didn’t feel like it brought enough to the table. It’s a considerably more conventional horror film, but this isn’t meant to denigrate its high quality. Recluse may hit some familiar notes, but it’s a scary, well-crafted haunted house horror story that goes for the jugular.

A gripping mystery that involves the tragic, unresolved circumstances that surround Joan’s mother teases a chilling connection to the recent horrors that have afflicted her father. Joan desperately tries to put these pieces together and give her family some sense of grander peace before she’s pulled under and becomes another victim of this festering curse that’s systematically worked its way through the Wyatt family. By doing so, Recluse digs into some deeper commentary on collective trauma, a very literal look at the “sins of the father” adage, and how one selfish decision can ripple through generations and fracture off into different dilemmas. By the end, Recluse has brilliantly flipped the powerful concept of legacy on its head by illustrating the horrors and sense of entitlement that can be born out of this idea.
A legacy is just another name for a curse under the right context.
”Listen” is a simple but powerful command from Joan’s father that she briefly obsesses over. In a way, it becomes Recluse’s grander mission statement, whether it’s in response to Joan listening to the people in her life, the signals that her body and mind are telling her, or the world’s greater whims. It’s important to reconnect with these grounding pillars, especially when it feels like control is slipping away.
Recluse excels with how audio and soundscapes can create entire universes that are full of rich details that transport individuals to these environments. There’s also a level of objectivity when it comes to audio recordings and the evergreen permanence that they’re able to provide. Joan’s career as an audio engineer makes sense for someone who wants to cling to hard evidence and proof of existence. It provides great insight into Joan without ever getting lost in contrived exposition.
Joan’s entire life is built around audio engineering, and so it makes sense that Recluse features excellent sound design that really goes above and beyond with its production elements. All of the sound design is expertly handled and turns the film into something special. These auditory elements intuitively keep the audience on edge so that they’re more susceptible to the actual scares that eventually strike. The smallest sound effect gets turned into a crushing, cacophonous assault. It’s a really effective way to build terror. Writer/Director Chaisson also handles the film’s music, which achieves a sublime, unnerving dissonance that further heightens the free-floating anxiety.

The story at the center of Recluse is slightly generic in some respects, but the film’s visual language and tone make it feel distinctly memorable. It also doesn’t hurt that the home that Joan returns to is basically an eerie art studio that’s full of contorted paintings. Recluse never struggles to generate mounting dread and terror that pump through every scene. Powerful, thoughtful cinematography consistently reinforces the film’s themes. Joan is constantly reflected in different surfaces or viewed through mirrors. She’s also often confined to tight, constricting framing that all speaks to her refracted identity during this moment of loss and her attempts to regain agency and control by making sense of something that’s seemingly unexplainable.
Recluse is full of truly disturbing visuals that make it seem like Joan is lost in a dream that turns out to be an extended nightmare. It’s a surreal journey reminiscent of invasive psychological horror like Silent Hill, with a touch of Sinister and Hereditary thrown in for good measure. There are so many individual frames that could endlessly fuel urban legends and creepypastas.
It does a great job with how it presents Joan’s fragile state of mind, where chilling flashes of the past sneak up on her and unresolved trauma manifests into unsettling imagery. There are endless shots that are obscured in darkness, or shadow is creeping in from the corners of frames like a suffocating force of nature. It’s very rare that a scene is fully lit. It leads to a very lonely, isolating atmosphere that’s easy to get lost in.
Chaisson’s debut stands out from the many other high-minded haunted house horror films without succumbing to the same pretensions that often drag down these stories. It’s a grief-stricken character study that’s full of upsetting visuals that scratch at something visceral and raw. The horror elements connect, and the answers to its grander mystery provide an appropriate and believable sense of closure. Those who are looking for an atmospheric horror film that isn’t afraid to be different while still channeling something real will appreciate Recluse.
Recluse made its world premiere at Tribeca; release info TBD.

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