Still Wakes The Deep Review

Caz McLeary isn’t having the best day. One minute he’s trying to get on with his job as an electrician aboard a North Sea oil rig, the next he’s being hauled in front of his odious manager for a dressing down. Then things take a properly leftfield turn: his colleagues start sprouting tentacles. 

Still Wakes The Deep is another strong entry in The Chinese Room’s catalogue of unsettling narrative-driven games, following in the footsteps of Dear Esther, Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs and Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture. Just don’t call it a walking simulator, OK? 

Alright, so it’s definitely a walking simulator — but in the best sense of the term. The Beira D, the rig that provides the game’s sole setting, is a creaking, ominous health and safety nightmare — and a character in its own right. By the time the credits roll, you’ll have seen every weathered rivet and explored every dimly lit corridor, and it’s unlikely you’ll be planning a real-life visit to one anytime soon.

The horror is both figurative and literal. First, there’s Caz’s boss: the embodiment of 1970s Theory X management, who weaponises Caz’s background to really stick the knife in. Then there’s whatever unspeakable terror the rig awakens when it drills too deep. Of course it infects everyone it touches. Of course Caz’s friends pay the price for the Beira manager’s greed and authoritarianism. People die, friends are lost, and you, as Caz, must steel yourself to survive as everything goes to hell in a handbasket. 

The cast’s acting is simply superb. That’s partly due to the authentic, naturalistic script (though if you’re averse to blasphemy or the c-word, beware), and partly down to the excellent localised performances. This is easily the most Scottish game I’ve played. Subtitles are on hand to help with the denser idioms, and the result is a setting that feels lived-in and believable. The sound design — groaning metal, howling storms, and otherworldly shrieks — only deepens the atmosphere.

That said, I’d have appreciated more interaction with the crew before things fell apart. It feels like each section introduces a new character, but you barely have time to learn their name before the tentacles arrive. A few individuals get meatier roles, but when a hypothetical Smith or Jones is impaled by some writhing monstrosity, it’s hard to feel much if your only prior exchange was a quick nod in the canteen.

As for the gameplay, well, it’s not going to challenge many. You’ll move through a mix of quick-time events, stealth sections, and basic first-person platforming, punctuated by valve-turning, switch-pulling, and the occasional item toss to distract creatures. Navigation is strictly linear. You’re rarely allowed to explore; instead, the game funnels you down corridors and catwalks, pummelling your senses with collapsing infrastructure or underwater escapes that had me holding my breath alongside Caz as I scrambled for an air pocket. There are numerous water sections, and other than the aforementioned tension, they aren't particularly fun.

You’re unlikely to get lost, though, thanks to the game’s relentless use of yellow guidance markers: yellow paint, yellow hatches, yellow girders, yellow drapes. So much yellow, in fact, that the developers included a setting to tone it down — an option I’d recommend if you want a more immersive experience.

Still, you can’t escape the game’s reliance on well-worn tropes. The fuse box is always fixed by replacing the third fuse. The valve to stop the gas leak is always five metres from the fire. Your hand — and the camera — is held obsessively, as if the game doesn’t trust you not to miss the next carefully staged moment while you wander into someone’s bunk.

As with anything influenced by Lovecraft, it’s the creeping dread that does the heavy lifting, and Still Wakes The Deep sustains that tension for nearly its entire runtime. When you do catch a glimpse of the monster — or more often, the effects of the monster — the impact is sometimes diminished. One chase sequence, in particular, leans heavily on The Thing for inspiration, and feels slightly too on-the-nose. Most of the time, though, the creature is a blur of gibbering screams and lashing tendrils that you must avoid by ducking into inspection shafts or hiding in lockers.

If you’ve played any of The Chinese Room’s previous titles, you’ll have a fair idea of what to expect. It’s light on interaction, heavy on atmosphere. But if you're drawn to well-crafted, narrative-first horror that favours mood and character over mechanics and length, Still Wakes The Deep is worth diving into. Just be prepared: it's a haunting short story, not an epic adventure.