CULT OF THE LAMB: Stacking Mechanics & Cute Horror (Patreon)

Game mechanics are funny things.

Because it feels like every few years some game comes along that does something cool and it’s like everyone slaps their forehead and goes, “HOW DID WE NOT THINK OF THIS!!?!?!” Whether it’s jumping on an enemy’s head, aiming down the sights for accuracy, or even more modern things like the bonfire / corpse retrieval system in Dark Souls games. But once those mechanics come along, everyone starts adopting them and they become a part of the inherent language of games.

To wit, there have been a few (fairly) recent independent games that have struck a chord in a major, major way. The first is Hades, which I went into great detail about here. On paper, there’s nothing super revolutionary about it. It’s another roguelike dungeon crawler with loops and progression. But it’s one of those games that is just masterful in its execution. It’s so smooth, so finely-tuned, and so kind (read: not punishing) to the spirit of your attempt, that it has been responsible for making so many gamers finally get comfortable with the roguelike genre. Couple that with the fact that it’s so beautifully story-driven and makes you WANT to put so much effort into the relationships? Well, then you got an all-timer with a seemingly infinite replayability (to wit, it’s a game I *still* go back and replay all these years later).

The other two games of recent note are what we could call little “base builders with foraging mechanics.” The first is the farming / small town life simulator Stardew Valley, which remains one of the most towering achievements of the last 10 years (made all the more so when you realize it’s the work of one guy). If you’ve never played it, drop whatever you're doing now and finally hop on board because this conversation is secondary to that one. But the other gentle base-builder is, of course, Animal Crossing. Which I know is not an indie, but its timing with the start of Pandemic brought so many people into the fold. It brought out this sense of purpose and connection when we all felt like we were on our relative “islands.” It was kind of poetic, really.  Anyway I say all this because a couple of weeks ago I had some friends talking up a new game called Cult of the Lamb. And they pitched it as a very direct combination of these three games.

But also, like, the horror of The Wicker Man and Midsommar.

Wait, what!? Yeah. You are a cute ass little lamb on the edge of being murdered, but you are saved by some kind of monstrous elder god and thus you must pledge your servitude to them and start a cult in their honor! All to the purpose of beating the old gods and freeing your master! You know, it’s one of those! But, like, super cute!

As you can imagine, Cult of the Lamb’s many delights are tonal and aesthetic, particularly the way it rides that line between adorable and abominable. You build your flowery little base with a light smattering of demonic summoning circles. You feed your followers berries or the occasional meat of a dead follower. You perform rituals of dancing and honoring the totems. You clean up their barf and poop when they get sick. You hold marriages or feasts made with with the bones of your enemies. You drug them with mushrooms to make them better followers. You also do some fishing. There’s just so much built around all the fun stuff you can do, but the most enjoyable “gaming” mechanic seems to be finding the right balance of how you USE your followers and keep them in supply. It’s not just daily tasks, but soaking in their devotion and ultimately the timing of their various sacrificial capabilities… If what I’m saying sounds absurd and dark, don’t worry, it is!

But the way this all combines with Hades is that instead of going to forage some random other location (though there are spaces to do that) you go and have a “crusade” which is basically a dungeon run. I really like the environments and some of the monster designs. But honestly, as far as gameplay goes if the combat system was a bit better I’d be singing the games praises to the sun. But instead it finds itself in a no man’s land between Hades perfection and Stardew’s purposefully simple dungeons. It just feels a bit too errant. The hit-boxes are wonky. I don’t have enough choice in styling my run (Hades was good at balancing choice PLUS randomness). Both the health system and the dodge move needs to be way, way more forgiving. The fact the roll doesn’t even really have an application until some late game tarot cards really stinks. The fleece options are also weirdly punishing and don’t have enough upside (if they were designed like the Heat challenges in Hades that’d be different). Also I feel like a given “crusade” is a little bit too punishing time-wise in terms of taking you away from some of the time-sensitive responsibilities on the base, but I can at least factor that into part of the difficulty. Honestly, my friend played it on easy mode and that might be the way to go if you just want to enjoy the game’s build and aesthetics.

Because that’s the thing. Games mechanics and systems are so about the exact details that make the experience - and challenges - feel so perfectly tuned. As is, I recommend it as a really pleasant 25 hours or so that scratches a funny little itch of comedy and horror alike. But that same observation comes with a caveat…

Because it’s so easy to think of these cute horrific things in a really detached way. All the movies being invoked here are a part of popular culture in a way that can sometimes feel that way in and unto itself. But in real life? I’ve come to know someone who is a cult survivor and some of the “game mechanics” here are actual techniques that get used and just… it hits an “oof” spot. Granted, I have no idea what they’d think of this game. Maybe they’d even find it funny. Or maybe not at all. But I will say there are a moment or two where it all just ran through my mind in terms of that disturbing reality. But that’s the grand existential question of so much horror media, isn’t it? The cognitive dissonance is practically required. The second so many bad things in a horror movie feel “too real” is the second that so much of the genre crumbles under the weight of that inherent bad-thing-ness. But that’s also the reason so many go to a horror movie. The point IS to have a terrifying experience within the safety of a theater. And wherever the line is for some is part of the internal push / pull within, often framed by our own personal experiences.

But I will say this: when I watch a movie like The Wicker Man or Midsommar, those films are semiotically-driven to say some really specific things about larger thematic subjects (whether it's a needed crisis of faith or toxic relationships). But with a game like Cult of the Lamb? I could give it a lot of credit for being one of those games that’s like “look how far you’d go! You’re so divorced from your own morality!” But we’ve already unpacked the ludo-narrative dissonance issues with games that basically force you to do bad things and then are like “omg I can’t believe you did that” and the only alternative was stopping playing the game. To be fair, Cult of the Lamb isn’t really playing that card, but I’m not sure it’s really trying to play any card.  Because I don’t really think there’s any big pointed observation here other than the game’s puckish sense of ironic humor. The point very much is to have all the cute stuff mash up against the horror elements and it's very effective in that pursuit. I laughed a lot. And so I chose to give the loose recommendation here because I imagine it will tickle some of you the same way… But I also think it could maybe make some of you burst into tears when your cute little kitty follower’s eyes go wide because they realize they’re about to be squashed by a sacrificial tentacle monster.

As always, mileage may vary.

<3HULK