Call of Cthulhu

Call of Cthulhu is a first-person psychological horror adventure game set in the 1920s, inspired by the works of H.P. Lovecraft. Players assume the role of Edward Pierce, a private investigator sent to the isolated, fog-shrouded island of Darkwater to investigate the mysterious death of the Hawkins family. The game blends investigation, stealth, and RPG elements as Pierce uncovers a terrifying cosmic conspiracy, with his sanity constantly tested by the otherworldly horrors he encounters. Player choices and skills significantly impact the narrative and lead to multiple endings.

Call of Cthulhu: A Descent into Lovecraftian Madness – An Exhaustive Review

Introduction

In the pantheon of video game horror, few names carry the weight and promise of cosmic dread quite like Call of Cthulhu. Based on the seminal works of H.P. Lovecraft and the legendary tabletop RPG by Chaosium, Cyanide Studio’s 2018 adaptation arrives burdened by expectation. It promises not jump-scares, but a slow, psychological unraveling—a descent into a world where humanity is a fleeting, insignificant speck in a cold, uncaring cosmos. This review posits that while Cyanide’s Call of Cthulhu is a flawed, often technically uneven experience, it stands as one of the most authentically Lovecraftian interactive interpretations ever created. It is a game that understands the source material’s core tenet: the true horror is not the monster you see, but the terrifying knowledge of what lies beyond the veil of reality, and the irreversible damage that knowledge inflicts upon the human psyche.

Development History & Context

Developed by the French studio Cyanide S.A. and published by Focus Home Interactive, Call of Cthulhu was released on October 30, 2018, for PC, PlayStation 4, and Xbox One, with a Nintendo Switch port following in 2019. The project was helmed by Creative Director Jérémie Monédéro and a team of over 180 developers.

The game’s development was a long and winding path through the fog-shrouded streets of licensing and creative vision. It is the official adaptation of Chaosium’s pen-and-paper RPG, not a direct retelling of Lovecraft’s 1928 short story. This distinction is crucial; the game seeks to translate the feel of being a player in a Chaosium campaign—the investigation, the skill checks, the inevitable spiral into insanity—into a first-person digital format.

Cyanide operated within a specific set of constraints. As a mid-tier studio, they lacked the blockbuster budget of a AAA title. This is evident in their technological choices. Built on Unreal Engine 4 with PhysX physics and Wwise sound, the game leverages established middleware to craft its world. The constraints of the era—the expectation for graphical fidelity on consoles like the PS4 and Xbox One—often clash with the game’s ambitious vision. The result is a title that sometimes feels caught between its indie horror aspirations and the polish demanded by a 2018 release, a tension that would define much of its critical reception.

The gaming landscape at the time was ripe for a resurgence of Lovecraftian horror. The success of titles like Bloodborne and Darkest Dungeon had proven an audience existed for cosmic dread. However, Cyanide’s approach was distinct. Rather than action-oriented combat or strategic management, they aimed for a narrative-driven, investigative experience—a throwback to adventure games infused with light RPG mechanics, a bold gamble in a market dominated by open-world action titles.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

You play as Edward Pierce, a deeply flawed, alcoholic private investigator and World War I veteran haunted by nightmares, both from the trenches and of something far more ancient and sinister. In October 1924, he is hired by the wealthy industrialist Stephen Webster to investigate the tragic death of his daughter, Sarah Hawkins, and her family in a fire on the remote Darkwater Island.

The narrative is the game’s strongest asset. It is a classic Lovecraftian mystery that begins as a straightforward investigation and steadily peels back layers of conspiracy, occultism, and body horror. The island of Darkwater is a character in itself—a decaying whaling community whose prosperity was mysteriously saved in 1847 by a “Miraculous Catch,” a secret that festered for generations. The locals, from the imposing Captain Fitzroy to the bootlegging gang leader Cat Baker, are uniformly suspicious and hostile, their minds and bodies subtly corrupted by the island’s dark secret.

The plot expertly weaves together elements from across the Cthulhu Mythos. Pierce’s investigation leads him to a sinister cult, a suspicious mental asylum (the Riverside Institute) run by the unnerving Dr. Fuller, and encounters with Mythos entities like a Dimensional Shambler and the cryptic Leviathan—a star-spawn acting as a herald for the Great Old Ones. The dialogue, while occasionally stilted, effectively builds the period atmosphere and the paranoia of the setting.

Thematically, the game is a masterclass in Lovecraftian horror. It is not about fighting monsters but about confronting the futility of human understanding. The core theme is the fragility of sanity, represented by a Sanity meter. Witnessing horrific events, reading occult tomes like the Necronomicon, and failing skill checks erode Pierce’s grip on reality. This is manifested through superb psychological effects: visual distortions, whispering voices, and hallucinations that blur the line between reality and nightmare. The game understands that Lovecraft’s horror is existential; the greatest threat is the revelation that everything you know is wrong.

The narrative is also shaped by player choice. Investing skill points in abilities like Psychology, Investigation, Occultism, or Eloquence opens up new dialogue options and pathways through problems. These choices culminate in four distinct endings, ranging from performing the ritual to summon Cthulhu (and ending the world) to walking away and leaving Sarah Hawkins to despairing suicide. These endings are not simple good/bad binaries but nuanced conclusions to a story about corruption, resistance, and the price of knowledge.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

Call of Cthulhu presents a hybrid gameplay model that is both its most ambitious feature and its greatest source of criticism. The core loop is investigative adventure: you explore environments, collect clues, reconstruct scenes of past events, and engage in branching dialogues with skill checks.

The RPG system is directly imported from the tabletop game. You earn skill points by finding clues and completing objectives, which can be invested in a web of skills. This system aims to create player agency, allowing for different builds—a charismatic detective, an intuitive psychologist, or a knowledgeable occultist. In practice, however, this system often feels superficial. As critic GameCritics.com noted, it’s “an adventure game pretending to be an RPG.” The choices sometimes feel cosmetic, and certain skills, like Strength, are near-useless Dump Stats, offering little beyond specific intimidation dialogue options.

The investigation mechanics are a highlight. Using a detective’s board to connect clues and “Reconstruction” scenes where Pierce visualizes past events are engaging and make the player feel like an active participant in solving the mystery. Searching for hidden objects and deciphering environmental storytelling is where the game truly shines.

Unfortunately, Cyanide seemed unsure of its core identity, bolting on other genres with mixed results. Stealth sections, primarily against human cultists or the Shambler, are clunky and frustrating, relying on simplistic AI and awkward detection mechanics. A late-game first-person shooter segment feels particularly jarring and ill-conceived, a concession to action that betrays the game’s psychological focus. As SelectButton‘s review pointed out, these sections “may turn players off,” and Bloody Disgusting suggested the game would have been stronger by ditching combat entirely.

The sanity system, while fantastic thematically, is underutilized mechanically. Its effects are mostly scripted visual and auditory hallucinations rather than a dynamic system that meaningfully alters gameplay. It’s a brilliant atmospheric tool but a shallow mechanic.

World-Building, Art & Sound

Where Call of Cthulhu unequivocally succeeds is in its oppressive, immersive atmosphere. The world-building is meticulous. Darkwater Island is a masterpiece of decaying Americana. The foggy docks, dilapidated mansions, and grim asylum are rendered with a palpable sense of history and dread. The art direction uses a muted, green-tinged color wash to create a sickly, otherworldly feel, as if the island itself is a cancerous growth.

The visual presentation, however, is a tale of two realities. The environmental art is often stunning, crafting a believable 1920s Lovecraftian setting. Yet, the technical execution is frequently lacking. Character models are stiff and dated, with wooden animations and unconvincing facial expressions that can break immersion. The Nintendo Switch port, as noted by Spazio Games, suffered from a “manifest downgrade.”

The sound design is arguably the game’s finest technical achievement. The audio landscape is a constant source of unease. The groan of old wood, the distant crash of waves, and the unsettling, discordant whispers that plague Pierce’s mind are deployed with expert precision. Markus Schmidt’s score is a minimalist masterpiece, relying on ambient drones, haunting piano melodies, and sudden, jarring strings to ratchet up tension without resorting to cheap shocks.

The voice acting is generally competent, with Pierce’s world-weary narration standing out. Together, the art and sound create a cohesive and terrifyingly effective mood that consistently elevates the material beyond its technical limitations. As player Santtu Niskala noted in their review, “The soundscape and voiceacting was done well… Visually striking and atmospheric.”

Reception & Legacy

Upon release, Call of Cthulhu received a mixed to positive critical reception, garnering a 67% average score from critics on MobyGames. Praise was overwhelmingly directed at its faithful atmosphere, engaging story, and successful translation of Lovecraftian themes. IGN called it “one of the more enjoyable Lovecraftian games in years,” while Adventure Gamers hailed it as an “expertly produced Lovecraftian mystery.”

Criticism was almost universally aimed at its janky gameplay mechanics, technical shortcomings, and ill-fitting action sequences. PC Gamer dismissed it as a “mediocre detective game,” and GameSpot lamented that “an action sequence comes out of nowhere and ruins the experience.”

Commercially, it found a dedicated audience among horror and Lovecraft enthusiasts but was not a major blockbuster. Its legacy is nuanced. It did not revolutionize the genre, but it stands as a crucial, deeply respectful adaptation that proved the commercial viability of slower, narrative-driven cosmic horror. It paved the way for more successful and polished Lovecraftian games like The Sinking City (which learned from its mistakes) and further cemented the Cthulhu Mythos in the mainstream gaming consciousness. It is a flawed gem remembered not for what it did perfectly, but for what it got profoundly right: the soul-crushing atmosphere of Lovecraft’s universe.

Conclusion

Cyanide’s Call of Cthulhu is a difficult game to definitively categorize. It is a work of profound contradiction: a game with a AAA aesthetic ambition hampered by AA technical execution; a brilliant narrative adventure interrupted by mediocre action; a superb adaptation of theme let down by inconsistent mechanics.

Yet, for all its flaws, it is an essential play for any fan of cosmic horror. Its unwavering commitment to the source material, its masterful atmospheric construction, and its compelling, choice-driven narrative about the cost of forbidden knowledge are achievements that outweigh its numerous frustrations. It is not the perfect Cthulhu game—that may be an impossible ideal—but it is a worthy and often thrilling attempt. It understands that in the end, the most terrifying monster is not a tentacled god, but the abyss that stares back from within us when we dare to look. Call of Cthulhu doesn’t just show you that abyss; it makes you live in it. For that, it earns its place in video game history.

Final Verdict: A flawed but unforgettable descent into madness, essential for Lovecraft devotees but approach with patience for its mechanical imperfections.