When I first played it earlier this year, it took me about five seconds to realize that Ghost Town could be something special. Before you even hit the start button, you're transported to a dark, moonlit South London car park in the pouring rain. Fog creeps across the litter-strewn asphalt, police sirens wail unseen in the distance, a concrete council block looms overhead, and for just a moment – although I haven't lived in London for over a decade – I felt a little like coming home. I have a lot of good things to say about Ghost Town – it's one of my favorite games this year – but most of all, its sense of time and place is simply captivating.
Ghost Town, which just released on PSVR 2 after its acclaimed release on Meta Quest and PC VR earlier this year, does this very well. One minute you're in a haunted theater – all dusty red velvet and faded splendor – the next you're on a fishing boat bobbing in the angry gray waters of the North Sea. The alleys of London are depicted so vividly that you can practically smell the urine! Wherever it takes you, be it the mortal realm or the planes beyond, its dark references to 1983 England are surprisingly compelling. It's the Thatcher era, the bedroom coding boom, the birth of the New Romantics and the £1 coin – a darker, grayer and, frankly, a much more refreshing reminder of the 80s than the exaggerated nostalgia for the high street and shopping centers of Stranger Things. Not that any of this directly intrudes on Ghost Town, but there's an air of authenticity to the whole thing (I say this as the child of Willo the Wisp and the Manic Miner) that grounds the fantasy game brilliantly.
You see, this time developer Fireproof Games swaps the occult Victorian setting of its award-winning The Room series for full-on urban fantasy (a refreshing twist considering the genre remains surprisingly underrepresented in video games), immersing players in a world where magic coexists with the mundane, where witches and wizards do spy work for the Ministry of Defense, and where something dangerous is stirring deep beneath the streets of the English capital. Amidst all this, South London witch, ghost hunter and protagonist Edith Penrose desperately searches for her missing younger brother Adam. Admittedly, Ghost Town's take on urban fantasy is anything but. especially radical, but what it loses in originality it gains in storytelling. And in this regard, Fireproof's supernatural first-person adventure is a real gem.
Before I digress too much from the bigger picture, I should probably say that Ghost Town is a puzzle game, and if you've played Fireproof's The Room series, the evolution from that to this is obvious. Ghost Town is a game that is just as obsessed manipulationwhere interactivity and physicality intertwine in ways that immerse you deeper into this world. And in a world that feels as richly realized as Ghost Town, it's an especially powerful combination.
Here, Fireproof takes the mesmerizing tactility of The Room's beloved puzzle boxes (which the studio cleverly translated via touchscreen into 1:1 motion in 2020's The Room VR) and goes even further. These wonderfully intricate devices – strange alchemical devices created through magic and machines – are as well represented here as ever, and their innate properties inside nature combines with puzzles that extend outward to form complex chains throughout the rooms. It's enjoyable, although rarely particularly challenging; Fireproof wisely prioritizes narrative impulse over complexity. But you'll also encounter more mundane interactions (levers to pull, elevator buttons to hit, computers with clicking switches and big, chunky dials) that add another layer of immersive verisimilitude to the world of Ghost Town.
But let's get back to the story. It's easy to argue with the word “cinematic” when it comes to games, but it rarely has any meaning outside of flashy cutscenes. However, Ghost Town is truly cinematic as it unfolds around you, with a real flair for set pieces and impressive staging that truly feels like the middle of your own movie. It all starts with memories; You, Edith, are investigating a ghost in a long-abandoned London theater, and Adam follows you for the first time. It's a brilliantly executed opening sequence that immediately sets the tone for what's to come: the dialogue feels authentic, the naturalistic performances exude warmth and wit, and the atmosphere is cinematic in all the right ways.
For example, there's a wonderful little moment a minute or two in where your wanderings through the nondescript theater foyer lead to barred double doors. You grab both handles with your hands (VR, remember?), then spread them wide, the doors swing open to reveal the most absolutely creepy hallway – all awkward angles, ominous graffiti and moody lighting – stretching far beyond. A few minutes later you experience the first big “wow” when the claustrophobic corridor suddenly opens into a huge theater auditorium. And it only gets better from there.
Soon the past gives way to the present and you are towed across the sea. Two minutes later, you're dodging seagulls and scrambling over jagged rocks as a perfectly shaped lighthouse stands out against the Scottish sky and the waves crash dangerously below you. Later still, memories of suburban comforts and the abrupt transition from day to night; then it's back to the rain-drenched present of your tall apartment building, making your way through the gray concrete hallways. You will explore the dirty alleys of London, explore long-forgotten subway stations; there's an episode that takes place on the seabed, another that takes you into the sky in an out-of-control elevator while your surroundings fluctuate precariously back and forth in time. It just feels ruthless, effortless chillAnd Fireproof always finds fun and surprising new ways to present its action. At some point, the conversation is playing out in two planes of reality simultaneously, and you're free to switch back and forth at will – the studio is simply doing whatever it can because, firstly, it works for the story, and secondly, because it can. And that's before it even gets to Really strange.
It's just a fantastic thing; paced, fast-paced and consistently entertaining across its five hours or so, every little element, all that attention to detail, comes together in a way that just feels right. I've played a lot of great games this year, but Ghost Town, with its many brilliantly choreographed moments, is probably the one that sticks in my brain the most. All this means that if you have the means – be it on PC VR, Meta Quest or PSVR 2 – this creepy little journey into England's magical underbelly is worth your time.
