South of Midnight review

Approximately twenty minutes into playing the Southern Gothic action-adventure game, South of Midnight, a pause was necessary. This wasn’t due to any offense taken from its representation of the American South – a common expectation when growing up in Mississippi – but rather the opposite. The game evoked a feeling of vulnerability and sentimentality, surprisingly, over a shed. It wasn’t even the encounter with the supernatural manifestation of fear, the Rougarou, where Hazel, the protagonist, compels it to confront its pain, but simply the shed itself.

This reaction is understandable given the compelling nature of South of Midnight‘s protagonist, Hazel Flood. Perhaps the emotional response is less about the shed and more about Hazel’s understated lament for its precarious existence, mourning it even before the approaching hurricane threatens its destruction. Yet, her simple wish, “I hope it’s still standing after tonight,” resonated with the impact of the impending storm.

Life in the Deep South, in regions characterized by oppressive humidity and an abundance of churches, often feels similar. There is scant opportunity for prolonged mourning, whether for a shed or a neighbor. Life becomes a cycle of bracing, enduring, and rebuilding.

Fortunately, South of Midnight captures this essence. It transcends superficial Southern aesthetics, sanitized narratives, or exploitative violence. While it is a supernatural tale filled with magical abilities and creatures, it genuinely and empathetically portrays the often-overlooked region spanning from eastern Texas to the Atlantic coast, crafted by a development team that clearly possesses deep care for the subject matter.

Southern Charm and Supernatural Encounters

Hazel’s confrontations with wrathful spirits are not excessively challenging, but they are engaging. Sequences where evasion is the primary option are particularly enjoyable. However, the core appeal lies not in the combat mechanics but in the nuanced details—like the aforementioned shed and other vestiges of hardship and sorrow—that resonated deeply. On multiple occasions, traversing the bayous or navigating muddy terrain was paused to appreciate a strikingly familiar depiction of the South.

To those unfamiliar, Hazel’s initial routine might appear ordinary. Yet, each element within the game’s opening moments is meticulously crafted with remarkable attention to detail. This is evident in subtle touches such as photographs from local fairs, social welfare documents, and the ubiquitous sound of severe weather alerts. Further depth is added through nuances like her mother Lacey’s subtly assertive tone and Hazel’s genuine affection for her community.

It’s easy to imagine some of these individuals, like Mrs. Pearl, offering their last few dollars or entering unannounced. While the latter might be an overreach for some, the former embodies a charm that evokes longing. South of Midnight is rich with endearing Southern idiosyncrasies, such as the regional inclination to overuse the word “done” or the linguistic compression of phrases into single words.

The game is a rich tapestry of Deep South culture, yet it also acknowledges the underlying pain intertwined with these mannerisms. These traits aren’t solely products of inherent Southern benevolence but arise from environments where self-reliance and community support are essential for survival.

Following a hurricane that separates Hazel from her mother, South of Midnight underscores this very sentiment. Hazel must embark on her search largely unaided by those who ideally should offer assistance. This harsh reality is likely not new to Hazel, possibly known since childhood, revealing that some expressions of Southern hospitality are merely performative.

Weaver Abilities and Combat Dynamics

In the initial chapters of South of Midnight, as Hazel’s supernatural abilities as a Weaver are introduced, combat unfolds at a deliberate pace, reminiscent of a slow Southern drawl. While the battles lack extensive complexity, they offer engagement as Hazel navigates through enemies within expansive arenas.

A learning process is involved in discerning safe zones from hazardous areas, and the action mechanics are not always explicitly explained. Fortunately, the somewhat clumsy initial experience is brief, and after a few missteps, the game effectively communicates its mechanics.

Frustration was minimal, and severe penalties were infrequent. Aside from occasional awkward moments, Hazel’s magical arsenal proved thoroughly enjoyable. Her toolkit comprises ethereal instruments fashioned from cherished keepsakes, such as a beloved doll and a bottle designed to capture emotional anguish. Combined with her enchanted Hooks, these items are integral to the Weaver’s responsibilities. Dual-wielding these tools enables Hazel to confront Haints—tormented spirits arising from a trauma-induced decay affecting the world.

South of Midnight recognizes this pervasive despair, known as Stigma, and highlights its proliferation in places steeped in sorrow. These structured encounters against spectral adversaries in predictably open environments draw parallels to Alice: Madness Returns. Despite the introduction of weapon augmentations, the combat can become somewhat repetitive, yet this is largely mitigated.

This is primarily because the game consistently interweaves deeper thematic elements into the gameplay loop. The overarching perspective on combat frequently surpasses any individual encounter. Persistence in mastering combat in South of Midnight unlocks profound lessons on healing and restoration.

Healing and Emotional Resonance

Merely eradicating the corrupting source of Stigma’s influence is insufficient. True resolution requires acknowledging and processing the past; Hazel’s journey heavily involves grappling with this. Healing comes through empathy and listening. By acknowledging pain and sharing burdens, fragmented pieces can be mended. As a Weaver, Hazel is uniquely positioned to enact this healing, a demanding task in a region historically indifferent to fairness.

This path leads to interactions with damaged individuals, some challenging to empathize with, yet deserving of compassion. The common expectation, shared by both the characters and potentially the player, might be indifference or dismissal from the world. However, South of Midnight resists this. It refuses to simplify the complexities of regions still marked by historical traumas into trivial sentiments, nor does it cheapen the enduring pain into mere clichés.

Addressing the Deep South’s wounds manifests differently across chapters. Some instances involve gentle exchanges of generational wisdom, while others are desperate pleas for absolution from immense wrongdoing. Witnessing Hazel shoulder these burdens with unwavering love and determination lightens any cynicism and reinforces the importance of resilience.

During the game’s later stages, a particular line resonates strongly: “These creatures aren’t monsters, they’re just waiting for someone who cares to come along.” This statement is profoundly grounding. It evokes an emotional response akin to a comforting embrace, in videogame form. Experiencing such sincere devotion to the people and places of home is rare, setting a new benchmark for authentic representation.