The Midnight Walk showed me that it's acceptable to accept the darkness.

      Like many others at this moment, I'm facing my own challenges. It's tough not to look at the current state of the world and feel overwhelmed. My worries about the economy and the alarming rise of AI have seeped into both my personal and professional life, leaving me feeling adrift. This year has often felt like my inner spark has been snuffed out. However, just because a flame goes out doesn't mean you are destined for perpetual darkness; with some effort, it can be reignited.

      Perhaps it was serendipity that led me to play The Midnight Walk last weekend on a whim. After two exhausting weeks of travel that completely drained my energy, I chose to dive into developer MoonHood’s debut game. I didn't know much about it, except that it's an adventure game featuring a Claymation art style reminiscent of Tim Burton’s creations. Although it can be played on a regular screen, I opted for PlayStation VR2. Maybe I just wanted to escape for four hours — a classic case of escapism.

      Fortunately, The Midnight Walk didn't allow me to simply drift away. Instead of losing myself in a fantastical realm, I received the insight I needed through a poignant fable about reigniting your inner flame and understanding when it's acceptable to accept the darkness. Much like any great fantasy, it transports us to return us with renewed perspective.

      Fire in My Heart

      Developed by a new studio formed by developers from Lost in Random, The Midnight Walk is a playable fable crafted from clay. In it, I control a character known as The Burnt One, who embarks on a quest to bring light to a shadowy world. Accompanying me is a creature named Potboy, a sentient lantern whose flame is vital for navigating fire-related puzzles that involve lighting candles and heating cauldrons to raise platforms. It’s a straightforward adventure game focused on light puzzles rather than combat.

      The game’s most striking feature is its stop-motion art style. Similar to this year’s South of Midnight, it effectively translates physical animation into an interactive format, complete with characters animated on twos. While I initially saw parallels to Tim Burton, The Midnight Walk draws from deeper animation traditions. It reminds me more of classic European and Soviet films, aligning more with Yuri Norstein’s Hedgehog in the Fog than The Nightmare Before Christmas. It achieves a delicate tonal balance, oscillating between cute and eerie. It has a childlike quality, as if pulled from a storybook, yet maintains a mature emotional depth.

      It serves as a sort of Rorschach test for players, as you might categorize it in various ways based on how its tone resonates with you. At times, it presents a warm and charming adventure; at others, it teeters on the edge of horror, reminiscent of Little Nightmares. This duality isn’t a flaw but rather an intentional part of the experience. The Midnight Walk is deeply centered on the tension inherent in its tone.

      The story unfolds across five chapters, each focusing on fire as a multi-dimensional symbol. In various narratives, fire represents a fundamental resource for survival. For instance, I must bring fire back to a freezing town to offer warmth. Other stories take a more abstract approach. One chapter revolves around a craftsman and his strained relationship with his daughter, a conflict that extinguishes his creative passion. Much of the gameplay involves resolving these issues by wielding fire's power to assist the villagers as I journey up the fabled Midnight Walk to restore a burnt-out sun.

      MoonHood creatively transforms its symbol into gameplay mechanics. At times, I need to grab enormous matches and strike them against a box to ignite torches. I can command Potboy to maneuver and illuminate objects at the touch of a button, facilitating clever "one-player co-op" puzzles. One recurring scenario involves us sprinting through a fierce storm, ducking behind rocks before a powerful gust threatens to freeze us. In those instances, I have to huddle around his fiery head for warmth. Fire is not merely an element in this world; it serves as a lifeline. It's no surprise the inhabitants feel so lost without it; they are left wandering through the darkness.

      You might be inclined to reduce the story to a simple battle between light and dark, a common trope in many games. However, The Midnight Walk explores this theme with more nuance, which is where its outstanding VR mode comes into play. For The Burnt One, darkness can be frightening. It conceals monsters that pursue the hero, compelling me to navigate stealth sequences to avoid being terrified. Yet, similar to fire, darkness can also be a tool. By literally closing my eyes (thanks to impressive eye tracking on PSVR2), I gain a superpower. I can hear hidden objects like keys, enabling me to locate them by following their sound. When I encounter a blue eye icon, I can close my eyes to uncover secret pathways. Certain enemies possess that same eye, and