Reanimal

Considering how many atrocities the hardcore group of friends are subjected to in Reanimal, I am actually a little ashamed of how often I have sat there with a big, smug grin on my face. I don't consider myself to have sadistic tendencies, but time and again it has crept onto my face. The grin. Now, of course, I may be wrong, but rather than a personality disorder, I would think it's due to the completely grotesque and utterly epic set pieces that Reanimal is so rich in. Crescendos where unforgettable monster designs rumble together with exquisitely modelled environments and unleash hell in both hair-raising and joyful ways. This is the essence of Reanimal, which takes Tarsier's signature formula from Little Nightmares 1 and 2 to its utmost potential with wonderful results.

With Little Nightmares 1 and 2, Tarsier effectively established their distinctive version of the cinematic puzzle platformer that Playdead brought back into the spotlight. An acquisition by Embracer and a subsequent break with Bandai Namco sent Little Nightmares over to Supermassive, while Tarsier pursued a new vision. That vision is Reanimal, and let it be said right away, it's quite reminiscent of Little Nightmares. But where Supermassive continued the series in an almost overly reverent manner without really taking it in new directions, which is why Little Nightmares 3 ended up as a pale copy of its predecessors, Tarsier takes far more chances by bending and stretching its creation so that it pushes against the outer walls of the genre but without breaking them down.

Reanimal is still a game where you, in the role of a small child in a terrifying world, evade grotesque creatures and navigate your surroundings using a combination of athletic ability and cunning. It serves up a symbol-laden story where guilt and shame are key elements and the images carry a heavy load, even though the characters now actually speak - albeit sporadically and cryptically. The main roles are played by a pair of siblings who return to their home island to find three old friends they have lost contact with, and much like Little Nightmares, there are dark secrets hidden beneath the surface. There are thus a number of familiar elements, but it never feels worn out, and from the very first frame, it's also clear that much is new.

In fact, two significant innovations are introduced right here. Most notable is the new, much more cinematic camera, which now follows the characters wherever they go. Little Nightmares has limited movement in three dimensions, but Reanimal sets you completely free. The result is a much more dynamic game - both in terms of aesthetics and control - especially because Tarsier not only places the camera behind its characters, but also plays with a multitude of angles, giving you the best of both the fixed screens from, for example, early Resident Evil games and the clarity of modern games. Admittedly, there are a few situations where the camera has a little trouble keeping up, but overall it's a definite triumph.

The other breakthrough is the boat you find yourself in at the start, which you can use to transport yourself and your friends to new places for long stretches. It's instrumental in giving the expansive world cohesion, because with it and similar means of transport, Tarsier can fill in the gaps between key sequences in a completely different way than before. In a breath-taking sequence about a third of the way through the game, for example, you see a huge bird fly away with one of your friends and land on top of a lighthouse on a cliff far out on the horizon. Your new goal. This contextualises the journey towards the goal in a completely different way than before and brings back memories of the mountains in Journey and God of War (2018), which also served as guiding stars.

This is a well-known technique, but one that the horror genre does not really use. Perhaps because claustrophobia often takes higher priority. But Tarsier is not afraid to cultivate the grandeur of darkness, which brings to mind Jordan Peele's work in Nope, which also successfully mixed horror and grandeur.

In Reanimal, the combination is even more pronounced, if possible. There are a number of scenes that burn themselves into your retina, precisely because they are so beautiful in all their darkness. Take the opening scene, for example, where you sail through a colossal gorge while pieces of rock break off and scatter around you as you dodge enormous mines on the water's surface; or the trip to the aforementioned lighthouse, which takes you across a blooming cornfield that ends at a dilapidated barn. It may sound like a cliché, but here the images effectively help to tell the story, which is admittedly cryptic and open to interpretation, but began to become clearer during my second playthrough.

The vivid scenes also help build the atmosphere for the joyful set pieces where the island's horrible creatures are unleashed. Here, Reanimal explodes visually in a cacophony of destruction that is so impressive to witness that my jaw dropped completely. There are thousands of birds hammering the ground like kamikaze pilots; a monster from the depths tearing a whole house apart; and an inventive take on something as classic as a car chase. The variety, ingenuity and good old-fashioned craftsmanship reach new heights in Reanimal, and I can only salute the scenarios that Tarsier has pulled out of the darkest corners of the mind.

In Little Nightmares, these sequences were often marred by slightly too strict requirements for execution, resulting in frustrating trial and error. This is still a problem to some extent, but the requirements for perfect execution have been lowered a bit, which suits Reanimal, as repetition tends to kill the terrifying excitement that a good escape sequence can otherwise instil in you.

The interplay between build-up and explosion works best in the first half of Reanimal, where Tarsier manages to hold back long enough for the unease to creep in and settle. In the second half of the game, they move more quickly from one crescendo to the next, with the effect that the unease is lost. On the other hand, it's a huge spectacle that gives the game a more explosive quality than the slower opening chapters and provides a climax that is palpable.

Although the escape sequences are the natural highlights, Tarsier spices up the experience with several elements. First, it lets you fight back at selected times. Combat was an element that Little Nightmares 2 and most recently 3 played around with a bit, but here it plays a bigger role. It's not complicated, but it creates variety and feels perfectly fine. Only one key sequence falls flat, turning what should have been a triple somersault into a heavy belly flop. The puzzle solving is in many ways in the same category: admittedly more engaging, but never challenging and rarely inventive. There are exceptions, however. One positive surprise involves a giant cannon, binoculars, and a code, but as with the fights, there is obvious room for improvement.

So far, I have written from the perspective of a solo player, but Reanimal actually gives you the opportunity to go through the horrors with another player - either locally or online. I have played both solo and on the sofa and can report that both feel completely satisfying. When playing solo, you play as the brother, while the AI takes care of the sister's role with a few exceptions, while you and your partner, funnily enough, each control one character in co-op. It's clear that Reanimal is designed to work in both modes, which is why the complexity of the collaboration is nowhere near what we find in a title like Split Fiction, but there is undeniably great quality in sharing the insane scenarios in a long, drawn-out collective scream.

Reanimal is another significant step forward for Tarsier, who, with their dirtiest creation to date, finds beauty in darkness and mark themselves as one of the great image makers of our time. One memorable scene replaces the next, and with the addition of crunching sound effects and haunting music, they create a universe that I just wanted more and more of, especially because the experience is so varied. In isolation, none of Reanimal's mechanical components really stand out, but they are all well executed, and when they flow smoothly into one another, they create a wonderful flow. One moment you are detonating mines with harpoons thrown from the bow of your boat, then sailing it ashore, beat some pesky seagulls with an iron pipe, solve a little puzzle that gives you access to a platforming sequence that takes you to the top of a cliff, where a fantastic view and a hair-raising escape await around the corner.

It's wonderful while it's happening, and fortunately the experience stayed with me as I continued to ponder the symbolism and how it all fit together in the days after reaching the end. I now have a clear theory, and I look forward to talking to you all about both the details and the big picture when you get to play Tarsier's latest game. And all of you with even the slightest love for Little Nightmares, cinematic platformers, or just horror in general should do so, because Reanimal is already a contender for the best horror game of 2026. And it even made me laugh like an idiot.