If Infliction was a colour, it would be beige. If it was a biscuit, it’d be the tasteless disc of a Rich Tea. If it was a band, it’d play nothing but Coldplay tracks. Sure, they all have their fans and they all technically deliver on what’s promised on the tin, but let’s face it: you could probably live without them, too.
Infliction reviewDeveloper: Caustic RealityPublisher: Blowfist/Caustic RealityPlatform: Reviewed on PS4Availability: Out on PS4 and Xbox One and PC
The big but here? For every sin it commits, Infliction has a saving grace. For every recycled cliche, it offers something fresh. For every cringey line of dialogue, there’s another delivered with perfect timing and pathos. When you tire of picking through the contents of the same old rooms in the same old house, the game will unexpectedly toss you someplace new. And when you get bored with that place – oh, look! – we’re back in the marital home again.
Consequently, I’m not sure what to think about this indie horror just yet. On one hand, that can’t be a good sign; at the time of writing I’ve completed it three times (once on PC, and twice on PlayStation 4) and if that isn’t long enough to form an opinion, then I don’t know what is. But on the flip side, I didn’t mind playing it the second or even third time, either.
Take the story, for instance. It’s pretty standard horror fare, a haunted house yarn in which you play as Gary Prout, a dull, mute husband tasked only with locating his not-dull, not-mute wife’s misplaced plane ticket. It won’t take long, however, for you to discover that Infliction wears its PT-shaped inspiration firmly on its sleeve and this sliver of everyday suburban life turns out to be anything but ordinary.