Go To Sleep Review (PC)

If only it were as simple as shutting my eyes and counting sheep. Heck, if it were as easy as that, then I’d have little to worry about. Yet, the hours cease to transpire, and the brittle bones of the liminal bedroom rarely appear to emit remorse or warmth. If I could just Go To Sleep, then I’d be happy—no, relieved. But, this night has other plans that I can’t quite wrap my head around, no matter how hard I try to analyze the situation. Oh, the hourglass tipples, but the Sandman’s ”remedial” infusions remain as clogged as ever. Alas, a sleep paralysis demon looms in the shadows, and I simply cannot escape its presence.

In an attempt to make it through till morning, I have counted those unhelpful sheep—a whole herd of them, and then some. But it seems that, no matter how hard I try to soften the blow, the demonic foe that lurks in the darkness is still bawling with bated breath. I’ll close my eyes, and I’ll cross my fingers that another hour will naturally pass by. But then, I’ll hear a knock, a creak, or an abnormal shifting of the house’s bones. I’ll open just the one eye, and I’ll immediately catch a glimpse of it—the toothy grin of a ravenous deity. I’ll close my eyes again, hoping to claim just a little extra sleep. But then it strikes again, usually when I least expect it, and when I’ve just felt the warm embrace of a cotton pillow. It knows, alright, and it’s using my weaknesses to its advantage.

It’s midnight, and the night is only just beginning. I’m tired, afraid, and stuck in a perpetual cycle of hollow premonitions and liminal dreams. Sadly, the alarm clock is the only salient salvation.

The Witching Hour

At its heart, Go To Sleep is a short point-and-click psychological horror game that extracts its core DNA from the likes of Five Nights at Freddy’s; specifically, the fourth chapter, in which the protagonist takes on the dauntingly difficult task of surviving a night with little more than a flashlight, a hiding spot, and an ear for irregular activity. Go To Sleep, while donning its own liminal world and demonic antagonist, more or less takes a similar route, with the player having to whittle down the hours of the night by sleeping and, if necessary, using a flashlight to keep the demon at bay.

Go To Sleep’s core gameplay loop consists of two main elements: sleeping—an act that ushers time forward; and evading the demon—an act that involves either using a flashlight, hiding, or shutting off the points of entry in a timely manner. With all of this, the goal is to make it through till morning, when the alarm clock triggers and the light emerges from the curtains to birth a new dawn. But, there’s a catch: the longer you sleep, the higher the chance the demon will sprout out from beneath the woodwork to terminate you.

The game itself is a juggling act, if anything at all. It’s a simple, albeit often tedious process that requires a stern eye for subtle changes, time management skills, and above all, a mind for knowing when and how to repel the foe with the few resources you have in your arsenal. It isn’t always an easy process, especially if said demon refuses you the opportunity to catch just a glimmer of shuteye. That said, it is one that keeps you on your toes and second guessing your actions.

Counting Sheep

Go To Sleep bases its composition on a liminal world that includes just a small helping of set pieces. There isn’t much for you to marvel at, nor is there anything particularly exciting to analyze, for that matter. It’s a canvas that’s mostly devoid of any kind of detail, if anything. Yet, given its subject matter and tone, its lack of detail actually works rather well in this context. It isn’t a visually appealing game by any stretch, though, to give credit where credit is due, it does nail the ambiance on the head incredibly well, with its rich charcoal undertones and disturbing sound effects providing a solid foundation for an intense feast for the senses.

All in all, Go To Sleep has a surprisingly eerie quality to it, with its calculated jump scares and procedural elements providing a pulpy experience that feels both unnerving and daringly delightful. That isn’t to say that it’s without its flaws, mind you. Oh, Go To Sleep certainly has a couple of teething problems that could do with a little extra time in the oven.

As it turns out, Go To Sleep does harbor a couple of rough audiovisual effects and a somewhat bloated animation style—a burdensome fixture that often sullies an otherwise free-flowing and clean gameplay experience. To add, the game doesn’t always make the process of surviving the night as easy as it could be, mainly due to the spontaneity of the antagonist’s questionable movements and the seemingly unfair nature of the game’s timing mechanics. Small things, but things that we can’t help but address, nonetheless.

Verdict

Go To Sleep doesn’t reinvent the wheel with its FNaF-like blueprint, but it does make for a fantastic ode to the concept, no doubt thanks to its inclusion of time-based gameplay and fearsome moments that make for surprisingly thrilling escapades. While it is still a somewhat basic concept in itself, its implementation of its chosen features is both clean and intuitive. It still harbors a handful of issues—visual, for the most part—though I certainly wouldn’t say that there’s anything particularly game-breaking here.

If you enjoy sweat-inducing time-centric puzzlers and liminal point-and-click thrillers that share blood ties with the likes of Five Nights at Freddy’s, then you’ll love Go To Sleep’s sheepish structure and demonic charm. It isn’t the easiest of games to solve, though it is one that supplements its lack of hand-holding with a steady sense of progression and more-ish moments. And, as if to add the cherry on top, it’s a surprisingly scary game, too, with its frequent jump scares and well-oiled primordial ambiance serving as solid additions to its infrastructure.

While there’s no disguising the fact that Go To Sleep keeps ahold of some rather bad habits and a couple of minor audiovisual issues, the game itself does offer more than enough to warrant a sleepover. Well, a sleepover without the sleep. Thanks, sleep paralysis.