Froggy Hates Snow Review (PC)

The devil is in the details here: frogs, as courteous and as adaptable to climate change as they are, are not for the freezing cold temperatures, let alone the slender foes that scour the glaciers in search of an amphibious punching bag to smack. But, against all odds, Froggy Hates Snow isn’t one for putting you in a warm, much less comfortable position. Instead, it favors the brisk approach—the bitter reception and the unforgiving conditions, as well as the disastrous consequences of a long slog out in the ice. The frog in question might be adorable, but that’s about as far as it goes. Everything else that makes up this world, however, is a little less inviting. And I don’t mean that in a negative light; I mean that everything you touch here has some form of impact on your mortality. The cold is just the icing on the cake — literally.

Froggy Hates Snow is exactly what you think it is: a survival rogue-like adventure game in which you, the amphibian with a natural hatred of cold weather, are forced to slump through the icy ravines of a desolate wasteland and learn to survive against all odds. The thing that prevents you from escaping this world, of course, is a door that’s inconveniently etched behind several missing keys. But of course, you can put two and two together here. A snowy desert; a handful of missing keys; and a rogue-like progression system that asks you a simple question: do you prioritize the keys, or do you choose to focus on your mortality and your abilities—things that might just help you carve a little deeper into the ice blanket?

In the spirit of a traditional rogue-like game, Froggy Hates Snow has you aimlessly traipsing, scrunching, and tiptoeing through a world in search of items to aid your quest. With your survivability skills in tatters, you have a rather difficult challenge to overcome: to find items that will allow you to upgrade your abilities and tools, and to learn how to survive for longer periods of time in a barren wasteland that, well, wants you to succumb to the hazardous climate before you can muster up the strength to locate the escape point.

While the initial portions of the game are mostly spent rummaging around in the middle of nowhere in search of two sticks to rub together, the journey does, thankfully, slowly begin to find its rhythm the more you progress through the skill tree. At first, it can all feel a little overwhelming—dull, even. With enemies at your front door and a lack of abilities to keep your head above water (or the iceberg), the journey can feel a bit daunting. But as you escalate your pace and find new nodes on the tree to explore—upgrades, if you will, that allow you to move more snow, carry more items, or withstand the temperature a while longer, for example—the rhythm begins to shift. And that, in short, is when Froggy Hates Snow transitions into a solid and, more importantly, entertaining adventure.

It’s best not to let a game like Froggy Hates Snow fool you into believing that its cute exterior is a gateway to an adventure that’s as equally pudgy. Don’t get me wrong, once the training wheels begin to wear thin, the game does find its rhythm in a smooth pivot from an ice-cradled nightmare to a satisfying rogue-like stint. It’s reaching that point in the world, that’s the problem. Oh, there are enemies and secret bosses to throw your weight at, hidden areas to branch out to, and there are needs that you must keep track of in order to prevent an early death. You’ll lumber items back and forth, carve out new locations to explore, and gradually increase your repertoire of skills to survive beyond the initial stages of decomposition. Basic survival malarkey, you know how it is.

Aside from the occasional death, Froggy Hates Snow is, believe it or not, a rather pleasant experience with a lot of great features. The world is filled with treasures, and despite its icy white cloak, it’s also beautiful to look at. The mechanics, too, are fluid, if not a little floaty. But that’s all part of the fun: the general act of floating, carving, and experimenting with the ice. It won’t always feel great, but for every obstacle that you encounter in the chilly igloo, a perk—a location, item, or popsicle incentive, usually—often finds its way to greet you and keep you plodding along for more. There are shovels, flamethrowers, and explosives to craft; owls and penguins to recruit; and anomaly zones to conquer.

Above all else, Froggy Hates Snow is a niche game. It isn’t the in-your-face forehead-melting adventure that you might want it to be. Though, it is a game that rewards you for sticking around for the long haul. The combat system adds a little extra weight to it, and the addition of a rogue-like progression tool makes it so that you always have a reason to brave the cold and venture back out into the thickest part of the woods. And as for everything else—the procedurally created maps, the companion system, and the inclusion of a Peaceful Mode that simply allows you to tackle the ice at your own pace—well, let’s just say that Froggy Hates Snow is bursting at the seams with neat touches.

Verdict

Froggy Hates Snow sludges its way into the glacier as a cute yet surprisingly challenging rogue-like affair that will no doubt test both your patience and your ability to juggle survival skills with traversal action simultaneously. Don’t get me wrong, it’s adorable and about as aesthetically appealing as an amphibian in a rucksack. But, it’s better to take all of these details with a huge grain of salt. It can be a tough sled ride, but it can also be a peaceful excursion that can leave you feeling oddly satisfied, too. I suppose it depends, really, on how you choose to tackle the icy burden. At least it offers a Peaceful Mode to help lighten the load.

If games like Winter Burrow or Don’t Starve are to your liking, then it’s likely that you’ll enjoy romping through the ice in Froggy Hates Snow for a handful of hours. If it’s a cozy amphibian-based adventure that you’re on the market for, however, then I’d suggest hanging your wooly scarf in an alternate pond. As it turns out, frogs really do hate snow. Go figure.