There’s horror, and then there’s GHOST at DAWN—a game that doesn’t just aim to frighten you but to disturb you on a deeper, more insidious level. Framed as a throwback to 90s survival horror, it initially appears with familiar features: fixed camera angles, deliberate movements, and a claustrophobic environment. Yet beneath that nostalgic surface lies something much stranger, more abrasive, and at times, intentionally hostile to the player.
This isn’t merely a game paying homage to classics—it’s questioning them, twisting their conventions into something unpredictable and, at times, unsettling.
A Noir Descent into Madness
Set in 1947, you step into the shoes of Ben O’Hara, a hard-boiled private investigator tasked with finding a missing girl in a dilapidated hotel. It’s a setup steeped in noir sensibilities—cigarette smoke, weary narration, and a sense of moral exhaustion that lingers in every line of dialogue. But this isn’t a simple detective story.
The hotel itself quickly becomes the real protagonist. Each room feels like a fragment of a larger, broken narrative, and the act of investigation is less about uncovering truth and more about surviving long enough to piece together something that resembles it. Clues are scattered, often cryptic, and the line between reality and hallucination begins to blur with unsettling frequency.
What makes GHOST at DAWN stand out is how it weaponises confusion. You’re not always sure if what you’re seeing is real, and the game rarely offers reassurance. It trusts you to endure uncertainty—and punishes you when you falter.
Gameplay: Familiar Foundations, Unfamiliar Intentions
Mechanically, the game heavily draws from classic survival horror. Fixed camera angles generate tension through restricted visibility, while optional tank controls heighten a sense of vulnerability. Movement is deliberate, sometimes frustratingly so, but always intentional.
Combat exists, but it’s far from empowering. Armed with firearms, you can eliminate the undead, but ammunition is limited and enemies are unpredictable. Encounters feel less like power fantasies and more like desperate gambles. Even when you succeed, it rarely feels like a triumph—just a temporary relief.
The inclusion of permadeath is perhaps the most defining (and controversial) feature. Death doesn’t just set you back—it wipes out progress entirely. This creates an ever-present tension, but also introduces a level of risk that may put off some players. Every decision has weight, and mistakes are costly in a way that feels almost archaic in modern gaming.
Systems That Lie
Where GHOST at DAWN truly diverges from its inspirations is in its willingness to deceive. Tutorials provide misleading information. Menus behave inconsistently. Systems you think you understand can suddenly betray you. It’s a design philosophy that borders on antagonistic, forcing players to question not just the game world, but the game itself.
This approach won’t be for everyone. For some, it will feel like a bold artistic choice, reinforcing the game’s themes of instability and distrust. For others, it may come across as frustrating or even unfair. There’s a fine line between tension and irritation, and GHOST at DAWN walks it constantly.
Atmosphere: Oppressive and Unrelenting
If there’s one aspect in which the game truly excels without compromise, it’s its atmosphere. The abandoned hotel stands as a masterclass in environmental storytelling. Dimly lit corridors, decaying interiors, and unsettling visual distortions evoke a sense of dread that scarcely subsides.
The fixed camera angles are employed to great effect, often obscuring threats or framing scenes in ways that amplify tension. You’re constantly conscious that something might be just out of sight, waiting.
Sound design also plays a vital role. The original soundtrack, composed by the solo developer, is sparse but profoundly unsettling. It doesn’t depend on conventional horror cues; instead, it embraces dissonance and silence, crafting an auditory landscape as unstable as the visuals.
Narrative: Fragmented and Haunting
The story unfolds gradually, requiring careful observation and interpretation. It’s not handed to you in a neat, linear sequence. Instead, you’re left to piece it together from scattered clues, environmental details, and fleeting moments of clarity.
Ben O’Hara’s character anchors the experience, his noir-inflected perspective offering a lens through which to interpret the madness. But even he is not immune to the game’s distortions. As the narrative progresses, his reliability as a narrator becomes increasingly questionable.
The result is a story that lingers. It’s not necessarily satisfying in a conventional sense, but it’s memorable—haunting in a way that extends beyond the screen.
Console Performance
On PS5, the game performs well, maintaining stability and responsiveness despite its deliberately archaic design. The transition from PC is mostly smooth, although the intentional awkwardness of the controls may feel more noticeable on a controller.
That said, this awkwardness is part of the experience. It’s not a flaw—it’s a feature, one that emphasises the game’s commitment to discomfort.
Where It Divides
GHOST at DAWN is not a game designed for widespread appeal. Its choices—permadeath, deceptive systems, and a relentless tone—craft an experience that is equally divisive and unique.
Repetition can become problematic, especially when permadeath causes players to revisit earlier sections. The absence of clear guidance may also irritate those who prefer more structured gameplay. While the game’s dedication to its vision is commendable, it sometimes veers into territory that feels unnecessarily harsh.
Final Verdict
GHOST at DAWN is a bold, uncompromising debut that refuses to follow conventional rules. It takes the familiar framework of 90s survival horror and twists it into something far more unpredictable, blending noir storytelling with psychological unease and mechanical subversion.
It won’t be for everyone—and it doesn’t aim to be. This is a game that demands patience, resilience, and a willingness to embrace discomfort. For those who meet it on its own terms, it offers a uniquely haunting experience that lingers long after the credits roll.
For others, it may simply be too intense.
Either way, it’s hard to ignore.
