La Salamanca Review (PC)

Argentinian folklore isn’t my forte, so I feel as if I’m out of my depth, if only partly. However, if I had to hazard a guess, I would say that, if it was even remotely like Scandinavian or Japanese folklore, then it’s more than likely as equally terrifying as it is befitting of a modern psychological horror. In the case of La Salamanca, I feel as if I’m skating on thin ice—aimlessly traipsing in unchartered waters without a paddle to float. The research doesn’t alleviate this lack of knowledge; it just adds more questions to the pot. And it isn’t as if I can take jabs at it for failing to deliver an authentic composition, either. As I said, it isn’t my forte. Yet, when a home-brewed horror with deep roots in local heritage comes knocking, you can guarantee that I’ll be there to answer the call.

True to its word, La Salamanca constructs its world around the local legends of the northern Argentinian town, Santiago del Estero—a place in which ominous apartment blocks emit hellfire, mythological creatures prowl the darkest quarters, and lone wolves bravely salvage the ashes in search of unobtainable answers and their wayward companions. And in case you have yet to figure that one out, then, tough luck — it’s you whose filling the boots of said lone wolf, basically. But we’ll touch base on all of that in a little bit.

The Lengths I’d Go

A psychological horror at heart, La Salamanca prides itself on being a textbook example of an educational thriller—an experience that has just as much of an incentive to teach you than to scare you senseless. Sure enough, there’s no encyclopedic material for you to study here, though there is an overarching theme that pays tribute to Argentinian culture, which is a lot more of a selling point than what other independent horrors have been able to distribute in the past. Still, don’t let this deep bond between its heritage and its instrumental values as a video game trick you into thinking that it’s a perfect pairing, for it does, in all honesty, often miss the mark in more ways than one.

To put you in the picture, La Salamanca is a first-person psychological horror—a game that frequents a lot of the same basic concepts and scare tactics as its ilk, with the likes of a cliche hide and seek system and a handful of questionably unfair puzzles stoking its furnace like a worn iron poker. Similarities aside, it does of course have its own strengths, with perks like a locally sourced narrative and a fascinating bouquet of “abominations” attributing its character, and then some. And sure, while the story is a little on-the-nose and cliche (we’ll talk more about that shortly), there are several great moments stitched into its plot and the various crossroads that it has to offer on the side of its relatively short campaign.

Raining Hellfire

As I said, the story isn’t all that interesting here. In short, it centers itself around a protagonist who, in an effort to locate their missing colleagues during a trip gone awry, decides to venture out to a seemingly eerie and decrepit apartment complex. As they enter said complex to dig for clues and the general whereabouts of their friends, however, their perception begins to dilute and wane. The world gradually begins to shift in appearance; the foes who cloak the corridors hone in on the passing footsteps; and the questions begin to receive more false answers than glimmers of hope. This realm of ash and shadow, folklore and fire, then allocates a simple goal for you to achieve: delve even deeper into the rabbit hole, and do all in your power to make sense of the complex’s miscellaneous secrets. Easier said than done, mind you.

The bulk of La Salamanca plays out like a relatively normal psychological horror, with the protagonist either having to solve a logical puzzle to progress in the world, or having to actively sprint and hide from a pursuing enemy in order to pull the wool over their eyes to make headway on another navigational task. And that’s the thing: La Salamanca doesn’t do much more than what so, so many others have done in the past.

To contribute my two cents to the pot, I will say that La Salamanca isn’t extensively predictable, mostly thanks to its inclusion of some genuinely intense jump scares, chase sequences and  a surprisingly lavish set of manageable puzzles that are neither impossible nor irritatingly boring. It doesn’t do much to evolve the foundations of psychological horror, though it does add its own two cents to the mix by providing its own identity, roster of characters and hellish locale.

Hell or High Water

Speaking from a mechanical standpoint, La Salamanca does unfortunately have its own fair share of burdens, most notably in its world design and UI. I can’t bring myself to say that it’s disastrously broken, or even that it’s swimming in technical difficulties and game-breaking errors. That said, there are still a few screws missing here, with certain pieces of its puzzle failing to conceive a complete picture. For example, the world itself is incredibly dark, and is often quite difficult to navigate. The mechanics, too, aren’t overly glamorous, with the odd bit of shoddy camera work and misguided behavior often resulting in some rather tediously insurmountable situations. It isn’t all bad, though I also can’t bring myself to say that it’s teeming with elbow grease and polish, either. A small issue, but one that feels worth mentioning, nonetheless.

Verdict

I’ll admit, La Salamanca is far from achieving its full potential, and for what it’s worth, it could still do with a little extra time in the oven to really make certain aspects more palatable. Yet, for an independent game that has been birthed by several local amateurs who, at least from what we’ve been told, share an undying love of horror, I happen to find myself willing to give credit where it’s due. Granted, it’s still a long way off from receiving a standing ovation — but you get the gist of what I’m trying to convey here. True, La Salamanca isn’t perfect, but it’s a commendable effort for a tight-knit team with galactic ambitions, nonetheless.

While you might struggle to find a structurally sound horror story to unravel here, you shouldn’t find it to be overly difficult to enjoy a lot of the offerings that tie in with Carpincho Studios’ debut thriller. It’s a short experience that won’t do much to rock your world, though it ought to be just enough to cleanse the palate whilst you idly wait for another IP to frisbee its way into your neck of the woods. And judging by the amount of indie horrors that have been sprouting up all over the market these past several years, it’s hard to imagine that you’ll have to wait all that long for another visitor.