Life Eater Review (PC)

I can’t say that I’ve ever seen eye to eye with my neighbors; in fact, they make it incredibly difficult to like them at all, given the fact that they spend most evenings allowing their kids to test the structural integrity of my garden fence by hurling basketballs at it. But, I’ve often found myself willing to let bygones be bygones and roll with the punches; it’s better that way, and I’ve learnt to settle for a competitive relationship rather than having to engage in mindless small talk for the sake of upholding the communal spirit. If, however, I had been following in the same footsteps as the antihero of Life Eater, then I’d probably be in some form of cell or, if push came to shove, solitary confinement in some backwater prison in one of London’s dingiest boroughs. Thankfully, I’m not about to sacrifice my neighbor — so we’re fine.

At this moment in time, you’re probably wondering what on earth Life Eater is, if not a violent cult that frequently makes immoral choices that directly impact those devoted to its causes. Well, for the record, it isn’t a cult — but it might as well be, given the fact that its entire premise is based around sacrificial civilians, and one paranoid neighbor’s suspicious behavior that just so happens to revolve around the act of killing unknowing strangers for the sake of pleasing some unholy deity. Needless to say that this certainly isn’t your Animal Crossing-type lookalike; it’s something of a completely different breed, and therefore, if you’re more interested in cultivating woodland veggies than hollow souls, then you might want to steer clear of this little cesspit.

Still here? Well then, you ought to stick with us as we gradually unpack Strange Scaffold’s grotesque new product. Let’s crack on.

Knock, Knock

Life Eater asks a very, very simple question: What would you do if an unnatural deity asked you to slaughter innocent neighbors for the sake of keeping their everlasting wrath at bay? For the record, that isn’t an easy question to answer, though it is one that you must answer in order to make some form of progress in its evidently disturbing world. Speaking of which, Life Eater transports you to a suburban area—a location in which the local antihero, a shut-in whose only purpose is to please a dark god who may or may not be real, takes it upon himself to sacrifice the lives of others once per year. This is where you, the virtual victimizer of sorts, begin your journey — bound for the blood of your enemies, otherwise known as casual civilians who’ve little knowledge of the plans that orbit your year-long mission to claim them.

Life Eater isn’t a first-person survival-horror game, but rather, an editing-type adventure in which you weave the stories and daily routines of your neighbors together to build a timeline. For example, one Jane Doe—a character who you’ll eventually go on to kidnap just as soon as the dinner bell sounds off—might have a habit of checking the back door at certain times of the night, whereas another might spend a dozen or more hours commuting back and forth to some other job outside of the city. It’s your “duty” to document the routines of each of these chosen victims, and make preparations to both kidnap and sacrifice them once the final grain of sand reaches the bottom of the hourglass. Sounds simple on paper — and it is, so long as you don’t mind sitting around and waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Hello, You

If you’re able to recall the gory and often morally questionable theatrics that fleshed out Vampyr, then you’ll know that, in order to excel in your chosen craft, you must be willing to cut a few corners and make a few unlawful decisions, you know — for the greater good. Well, Life Eater isn’t all that different, in the case that, in order to please a god, you must be willing to go out of your comfort zone and pull a few strings, even though what you’re doing is morally wrong. But that’s the aim of the game, sadly: to fool yourself into believing that what you’re doing is the right thing, and that, by enacting on those principles, regardless of how poor they are, you will be rewarded in the long term. You won’t, by the way — but, you know, whatever.

The gameplay loop in Life Eater isn’t all that difficult to crack; you arrange clips in an appropriate order, and gradually work towards some form of end goal—a conclusion that pretty much guarantees the death of some poor individual who’s been on your radar for the past several months. In a typical scenario, you would highlight certain options and essentially build a twenty-four-hour routine for the individual in question, and search for a loophole that allows you to kidnap them and lure them back into your lair. There are downtimes, too, which allow you to generate a slightly more intimate bond with your subject, whether it’s by socializing, or staring at them through the curtains.

Around the Clock

Actions in Life Eater consume some amount of energy—a supplement that you must replenish by carrying out various mundane activities, like sleeping, for example. However, seeing as you only have a set amount of time to unravel your victim’s routines, you must also be willing to let certain things slip between your fingers for the sake of benefiting an overarching issue. To this end, there are some time-focused obstacles to overcome throughout the journey, but not quite enough to test your mental capacity or leave you feeling overwhelmed or even the slightest bit perplexed. It’s a relatively simple gameplay loop, and thankfully, an easy enough progression system that doesn’t require a huge amount of effort to whittle down to its conclusion.

Granted, there isn’t a huge amount to see or do in Life Eater, as the vast majority of the tasks are comprised of the same three or four things; replenish this, stalk that, and so on and so forth. Having said that, what did come as a major surprise to me was the amount of authored stories that the game had, all of which were fully voiced and tailored to accommodate a quality soundtrack and unsettling ambiance. Add the fact that it also had a hearty amount of generated plot lines, and it had just the right amount to keep me engaged for a few short hours. Turns out, the devs are also looking to implement an endless mode into the mix, too — so that’s an incentive that I might have to return for in the near future.

Verdict

Life Eater set out with one goal in mind: to generate enough controversial themes to get the audience talking. And to some extent, it has; it does a lot to make it stand out as a visually disturbing art piece, and it rarely refrains from allowing itself to flex its immoral values by incorporating questionable themes and sociopathic behavior. Granted, it isn’t the most grizzly stalker-type game out there, but it does make an effort to conjure some level of shock value in its visuals — and that’s really all this is: shock fodder for a target demographic who’d soon rather unwind to a skit about Art the Clown then Ronald McDonald.

Life Eater isn’t quite on the same wavelength as, say, Immortality, though I can, if only just, see what it’s trying to accomplish. Visually, it isn’t anything particularly impressive, though it does make up for its lack of depth and intricate details with a quality score and script that occasionally comes across as genuinely disturbing and thought-provoking. I can’t say that it’s the best “fantasy” horror game I’ve ever played, but I do feel morally inclined to give it the benefit of the doubt for at least attempting to dip its toes into unadulterated waters and run with something new.

If you’re looking to get your hands on a, well, virtual kidnapping experience, and one that attempts to mesh the gory theatrics of horror with entry-level strategic gameplay, then you could certainly do a lot, lot worse than Life Eater. Again, it isn’t the most technically advanced game on the market, but it’s definitely something of a talking point that you’ll want to bring up at your next horror convention, for sure.