MIRROR MIRROR Review (PC)

I’ve been here before. Looking back, I think I’ve been here several times before. In the dead of night, adjacent to the ominous corridor, I once again find myself stumbling through this perpetual nightmare—a hellhole of unrest and despair, knotted visions and an incomprehensible feeling that something, somewhere, looms in the darkness idling with baited breath. This world is hollow—isolated, even—and I can’t quite tell what is fact, and what is fiction. Here, only the walls can enlighten me. MIRROR MIRROR on the wall, where am I, and where is the door?

It’s a vicious cycle, the act of finding yourself exiting through one door only to find yourself arriving back at another — like a maze without a center, or an endless hallway without another means of escape. It’s enough to make anyone lose their mind. In fact, the definition that orbits the word insanity has it etched in stone: that doing something countless times over and expecting a different result is, according to the curators of all academia, the kindling of insanity.

Here, insanity fits with the narrative incredibly well. Like P.T. and countless other psychological horrors that berthed around it, it casts a gloomy shadow over a back-and-forth procedure—a process that primarily involves nudging users through the same story beats and familiar details, but also involves actively forcing its travelers to bend with whatever absurdities take shape along the way. The world changes, as does your ever-shifting frame of mind. There is no escape, but there is, on the other hand, another door. Perhaps it will be different this time around? Maybe, just maybe, the world will surprise you in the next loop, or the one after that, or the one after that. It’s time to knock.

Reflection of a Memory

MIRROR MIRROR opens with a memory—a passage of time that seems vaguely familiar, similar to the walls that flesh out the house that you find yourself in. Without context or a helping hand, you can only move forward and carve away at the layers ahead, using the minimal tools at your disposal to explore rooms, and gradually unravel the secrets that manipulate your surroundings with each passing step. There aren’t so many crossroads to consider as there are perpetual cycles, all of which have their own means to make your journey more perplexing with each fleeting moment. As one door opens, another behind you closes. The campaign progresses, but the world remains in an idle state. Or at least, the subtle changes in the atmosphere keep it so that you don’t notice everything at once, but rather, small, intricate details.

MIRROR MIRROR is a walking simulator at heart, and so, naturally, you don’t have to subject yourself to any convoluted mechanics or bullet-sweltering combat scenarios. It’s a bit like Layers of Fear, in the sense that the breadth of the journey is spent walking from one room to the next, and following a series of breadcrumb trails in the hopes that the next stage will lead you elsewhere, if not to a new story beat, then to a vastly different reflection of the same tapestry. With only a handful of puzzles to slug through and a limited selection of clues to locate, you could quite easily beat it in just under an hour, give or take. It’s all rather linear in that regard: you enter one loop, collect a clue, and then move onto the next loop, all whilst the world around you gradually becomes a little more complex.

I Can Feel the Eyes Watching

On the one hand, the world changes, as does the somber sensation that ties in with the simple act of tiptoeing through the same vortex several times over. But on the other hand, there are other things that play  a part in the evolution of this story—entities, if you will. In addition to the ever-shifting nature of the home and its inner quarters, MIRROR MIRROR also provides an extra layer to its outer shell—anomalies and ghoulish activities, for the most part, that have a natural tendency to sprout out when you least expect them, thus creating a periodic pattern of frequent jump scares and questionable encounters with the two existing realities. A typical psychological horror, you could say — complete with all of the usual tropes of an indie walking simulator.

As much as I’d like to bite my tongue here, I have to say, the story here is a little cliche. It’s so cliche, in fact, that you don’t need the gift of clairvoyance to comprehend the situation. In a bid to keep to its traditional values, it aims to keep you in the dark, and with only a forgetful protagonist to follow, it really is the case of following the steps to “unravel the secrets” of their past. It’s a plot that we’ve seen so, so many times before. And so, if it’s a compelling mystery about an amnesiac in a chilling realm of unhinged horrors that you’re after — take your pick, basically; it’s a dime-a-dozen banquet.

Verdict

MIRROR MIRROR on the wall, who’s more confused than I, if not the world and its lore? I adore the idea of being lost, but I also love the idea of being able to find an exit when the going gets tough. Here, the exit isn’t painted in black and white, though the stepping stones that you take to reach the final destination are unapologetically transparent. And that’s fine, so long as you don’t mind following the breadcrumbs for an hour or so. However, if it’s a bottomless pool of twists and turns that tickle your fancy, then you might struggle to enjoy a lot of the linear components here.

The good news is that MIRROR MIRROR does, in fact, contain a solid collection of good scares and moments of skin-crawling uncertainty. It has some good visuals, too, and so, while it is lacking in the story department, as well as its ability to untether itself from the usual tropes of a psychological horror, there are some quality bones to pick away at here. Is it the best indie horror you’ll ever play? Probably not, no. But, if you enjoy games like Layers of Fear, Madison, or P.T., then I’d like to think that you’ll enjoy scraping the joy out of this particular barrel.