South of Midnight review – the Shakin’ Bones of something better

An eerie darkness falls over the town of Prospero. The tempest rages, singing songs of destruction. Rain lashes the windows of Hazel Flood’s home as she packs up her things in preparation: a storm’s coming. As her mother, Lacey, returns from work, she tasks Hazel with checking on their neighbors, one of whom is playing music on his jukebox and tempting fate, while the other hunkers down and braces. As Hazel steps back into the flickering neon light, her home detaches from its foundations and is swept into the creek with Lacey in tow. This is our introduction to South of Midnight.

It’s been two years since we caught our first glimpse of Compulsion’s American South-set action-adventure game, and it immediately piqued my interest. Its bayou setting is a major draw and, coupled with the hallucinogenic weirdness that Compulsion is known for, it outwardly seemed like my videogame dream come true. But having recently revisited the team’s last game, We Happy Few, I found myself a little concerned: the rose-tinted nostalgia goggles had certainly tainted my memories, I was quickly reminded of its repetition and jank, and I found myself hoping that the studio’s latest wouldn’t suffer from the same issues. Unfortunately, despite its strong opening hours, worldbuilding, and style, my fears for South of Midnight quickly became a reality.

Let’s start with the setting, the game’s unique selling point. Compulsion’s Belle Époque South is among the most striking videogame settings I’ve seen. As the glittering sun rises and the birds begin to sing, I feel like I’m part of a living, breathing world. There are enough nooks and crannies to grant each level an expansive feel, even if you spend most of your time on the beaten path. A rotting, abandoned riverboat was one of my favorites, as was Kooshma’s Realm, a trippy, fantastical reimagining of New Orleans soundtracked with smooth jazz.

While I was concerned that the environments would begin to blend into a repetitive sea of yellows, browns, and greens, there’s enough visual variety here to keep things interesting. You’ll find the riverboat in a dark, dreary corner of the bayou, while one boss fight plays out in a riverbed filled with hulking statues and advertisements for an alligator petting zoo straight out of the Floridian Everglades.

The environments move with the story, too, mirroring Hazel’s first, wholesome encounter with a sentient tree named Benjy, then transitioning into the darkness as she descends into the realm of nightmares in search of her mother.

Each section of the bayou is home to a different creature. There’s Benjy and Two-Toed Tom; the fearsome, owl-like Rougarou; and the eerie spider woman, Huggin’ Molly. Two-Toed Tom is a starved, abused pet that eats everything in sight, while the Rougarou is an orphaned boy who was forced to watch his father die. Their tales of woe all deliver a well-earned emotional punch, and I cried more than once during my playthrough.

Unfortunately, as unique as they all are from a narrative and visual perspective, fighting them is disappointingly repetitive. Their attacks include linear AoE, missile AoE drops, and a sweep to jump over. Some throw short platforming sequences at you between phases, while others require you to hurtle environmental objects to interrupt their attacks and land a stun. Even the less combat-focused interactions follow a similar pattern: collect memories, heal their wounds, and move on.

The Rougarou’s fight is particularly disappointing. It engulfs you in a whirlwind and fires off a few AoEs, only for the sequence to end with it respawning at the opposite corner of the map. There’s no transition, no swoop upwards into the air then Avengers-style crash down – he just respawns before the cycle begins anew. A later boss fight teased multiple times throughout the game amounts to little more than fighting wave after wave of the same enemies you’ll have defeated countless times before.

The last few chapters feel noticeably rushed, too, with initially intriguing characters being abandoned. We run into the spectral figure of Mahalia, a ghostly Weaver and gentle guide, early in the game, then again on the way to Kooshma’s Realm, but she quickly vanishes into thin air and we never hear from her again. The ominous, towering figure of Shakin’ Bones, the star of the game’s reveal trailer, appears to ferry Hazel from one place to another, then is never seen again. Even the final encounter with South of Midnight’s primary antagonist ends with a bit of a shrug.

As you progress through the levels and upgrade Hazel’s abilities, you encounter several varieties of Haints, the game’s regular enemies. There are fast-moving slashers, projectile-throwing foes, and hulking beasts that rush you headfirst. The lock-on system isn’t particularly helpful, meaning it’s often messy to deal with larger groups, but combat is still so easy that I rarely died. Fights also quickly grow familiar and stale. At one point, an exasperated Hazel says “I ain’t got all day.” Same, Hazel, same.

Missions follow a similarly predictable format: collect four memories in your magical bottle by completing four combat instances. While you’ll sometimes have to use your adorable companion Crouton (a summonable plushie that can go underground) to untangle harder-to-reach Stigma, his routes aren’t particularly difficult to navigate. Combat quickly becomes reminiscent of the Joy mechanic in We Happy Few; an annoying inhibitor without the psychedelic sparkle.

The platforming sections also suffer from some serious jank. I encountered a game-breaking bug that crashed my PC after Hazel was swallowed by Two-Toed Tom, and an invisible wall in the pig farm prevented any upward movement. Additionally, the game seemed reluctant to save my adjusted keybinds, meaning I had to redo them every time I booted it up. Perhaps it’s because some of them were on my side mouse buttons, but jumping off a cliff only to realize your dash has reverted to its original bind quickly becomes frustrating.

Yet I still enjoyed my time with South of Midnight. The characterization, narrative, and setting do a lot of the heavy lifting, but the soundtrack is what ties it all together. Just as music and oral tradition are at the core of Creole and Cajun culture, they are the beating heart of South of Midnight. Olivier Deriviere (Alone in the Dark, A Plague Tale: Requiem) is one of my favorite videogame composers, and this is his best work yet.

From Benjy’s harrowing yet jaunty medley to the rumbling, jazzy melody that plays during loading screens, South of Midnight’s soundtrack is perfect. As you slash at Haints – especially when you’ve stunned them – it sounds like you’re beating drums, and Kooshma’s Realm in particular is a masterclass in contemporary Southern elegance. Even as I felt my attention waning after yet another round of Haints, the music lured me back in.

South of Midnight is an intriguing virtual tour of a gothic fairy tale American South and weaves believable stories and characters into a mostly strong narrative (those final hours notwithstanding). Hazel is a likable protagonist and a departure from the ‘moody millennial’ trope we often see young women typecast as. I want to like her; I want to like South of Midnight, but its frustrating, repetitive combat and mission structure leave a lot to be desired. If you can suffer through the gameplay monotony, there’s an intriguing cast and world here, but I’d forgive you for calling it quits before the credits roll.