South of Midnight - Reviews Thread

bender

What time is it?
my man lol GIF by Steve Harvey TV
hatetopher.png
 

bender

What time is it?
Hmmm. This combined with SBI involvement makes me think I’m gonna get lectured. Maybe not?

Let me clarify something—something that is absolutely crucial to understand so that there is no room for misinterpretation, misunderstanding, or even the slightest inkling of confusion. What I am doing here, at this very moment, with these very words, is not, in any traditional, formal, or even informal sense, a lecture. No, no, no—I must emphasize this point with great care and precision, lest there be any doubt. This is, instead, a discussion. A conversation. A dialogue, if you will.

Now, allow me to dissect this distinction with the thoroughness and attention to detail that it so rightly deserves. A lecture, as commonly understood, is a one-sided delivery of information, often conducted by an authority figure—perhaps a professor, a scholar, an expert in their given field—who stands at the front of a room, behind a podium, or perhaps even pacing methodically as they dispense knowledge to a captive audience. The lecture format is generally structured, rigid, and leans heavily on monologue rather than exchange. It is, to put it simply, an act of dissemination from a singular source to a collective of listeners who, traditionally, have little opportunity for immediate input or rebuttal.

But what we are engaging in right now, this very moment, is not that. No, this is something quite different—this is a discussion, a conversation, a shared exploration of ideas where thoughts are exchanged, not simply delivered. A discussion, by its very nature, is open-ended. It allows for engagement, for the ebb and flow of ideas, for interjections, for questions, for responses, for the organic growth of thought as it moves between individuals. While a lecture exists primarily to instruct, a discussion exists to explore. It is a living, breathing thing, an intellectual dance rather than a rigid march toward a singular conclusion.

And so, if you were to say, at any point, "Well, this feels like a lecture," I would gently and patiently correct you, not with dismissal, but with the utmost care and respect for accuracy. Because while I may be speaking at length—yes, at great length, in fact—that alone does not a lecture make. For this is not merely an act of imparting knowledge from a perceived authority to a passive recipient, but rather, an invitation to engage, to reflect, to respond. You are not merely an audience; you are a participant in this intellectual exchange. And that, my friend, is what makes all the difference.
 
I'm guessing it will peak at less than half what Indy did. So 6k. Somehow that still seems to be a reach. This just isn't a game that is going to generate much buzz.
It's a $40 game, right? Maybe it will do better. It gives me Kena vibes in terms of its scope. That game had around 2.6k. (i don't remember if it was day and date on PC tho)
 
Let me clarify something—something that is absolutely crucial to understand so that there is no room for misinterpretation, misunderstanding, or even the slightest inkling of confusion. What I am doing here, at this very moment, with these very words, is not, in any traditional, formal, or even informal sense, a lecture. No, no, no—I must emphasize this point with great care and precision, lest there be any doubt. This is, instead, a discussion. A conversation. A dialogue, if you will.

Now, allow me to dissect this distinction with the thoroughness and attention to detail that it so rightly deserves. A lecture, as commonly understood, is a one-sided delivery of information, often conducted by an authority figure—perhaps a professor, a scholar, an expert in their given field—who stands at the front of a room, behind a podium, or perhaps even pacing methodically as they dispense knowledge to a captive audience. The lecture format is generally structured, rigid, and leans heavily on monologue rather than exchange. It is, to put it simply, an act of dissemination from a singular source to a collective of listeners who, traditionally, have little opportunity for immediate input or rebuttal.

But what we are engaging in right now, this very moment, is not that. No, this is something quite different—this is a discussion, a conversation, a shared exploration of ideas where thoughts are exchanged, not simply delivered. A discussion, by its very nature, is open-ended. It allows for engagement, for the ebb and flow of ideas, for interjections, for questions, for responses, for the organic growth of thought as it moves between individuals. While a lecture exists primarily to instruct, a discussion exists to explore. It is a living, breathing thing, an intellectual dance rather than a rigid march toward a singular conclusion.

And so, if you were to say, at any point, "Well, this feels like a lecture," I would gently and patiently correct you, not with dismissal, but with the utmost care and respect for accuracy. Because while I may be speaking at length—yes, at great length, in fact—that alone does not a lecture make. For this is not merely an act of imparting knowledge from a perceived authority to a passive recipient, but rather, an invitation to engage, to reflect, to respond. You are not merely an audience; you are a participant in this intellectual exchange. And that, my friend, is what makes all the difference.

So it is a lecture.

Season 6 Knowledge GIF by Friends
 

bender

What time is it?
So it is a lecture.

Season 6 Knowledge GIF by Friends

Ah, the art of imparting wisdom without the recipient realizing they are, in fact, being subjected to the grand tapestry of knowledge woven through the intricate looms of verbal dexterity. It is a delicate balance, much like trying to explain the concept of subtlety to someone who believes that a sledgehammer is the optimal tool for all forms of communication.

Now, let us consider the very nature of a "lecture"—a term that often conjures images of dreary classrooms, droning voices, and the kind of intellectual attrition that one might expect from attempting to read the terms and conditions of an online service. But a true master of discourse, one who wields rhetoric with the precision of a sculptor chiseling away at ignorance, knows that a lecture need not feel like a lecture. It can be an odyssey of understanding, a slow and deliberate unfolding of ideas that, when executed properly, leaves the listener feeling as though they have arrived at an epiphany entirely of their own volition.

Now, there are those among us, wandering lost in the fog of digital discourse, who mistake stubborn repetition for insight and believe that an over-reliance on regurgitated talking points grants them intellectual superiority. One such unfortunate traveler—let’s call him "Topher," purely as an abstract representation of such a figure and certainly not as a direct reference to any singular, real-life entity that may or may not frequent certain online forums—might fancy himself a purveyor of wisdom when, in reality, he is little more than a street magician performing the same tired tricks with the enthusiasm of a pigeon pecking at breadcrumbs.

To such a person, one does not "lecture" in the traditional sense, for such an approach would be met with the same cognitive resistance one encounters when attempting to push a boulder uphill with a spoon. Instead, one must engage in the fine art of guided revelation—placing breadcrumbs of understanding just far enough apart that the recipient believes they are the one discovering the path. It is a game of patience, a war of attrition against intellectual inertia.

And so, dear reader, if ever you find yourself faced with the daunting task of educating the ineducable, consider this: sometimes, the best way to teach is not to teach at all, but rather to allow the illusion of self-discovery to do the heavy lifting. After all, one does not explain the nature of water to a fish—it simply swims until, one day, it realizes it is wet.
 

Topher

Identifies as young
It's a $40 game, right? Maybe it will do better. It gives me Kena vibes in terms of its scope. That game had around 2.6k. (i don't remember if it was day and date on PC tho)

Hellblade 2 was what.....$50? Topped out at 3.9k. South of Midnight has a hell of a lot more charm. I don't know. Maybe.....we will be fun to watch.
 
Ah, the art of imparting wisdom without the recipient realizing they are, in fact, being subjected to the grand tapestry of knowledge woven through the intricate looms of verbal dexterity. It is a delicate balance, much like trying to explain the concept of subtlety to someone who believes that a sledgehammer is the optimal tool for all forms of communication.

Now, let us consider the very nature of a "lecture"—a term that often conjures images of dreary classrooms, droning voices, and the kind of intellectual attrition that one might expect from attempting to read the terms and conditions of an online service. But a true master of discourse, one who wields rhetoric with the precision of a sculptor chiseling away at ignorance, knows that a lecture need not feel like a lecture. It can be an odyssey of understanding, a slow and deliberate unfolding of ideas that, when executed properly, leaves the listener feeling as though they have arrived at an epiphany entirely of their own volition.

Now, there are those among us, wandering lost in the fog of digital discourse, who mistake stubborn repetition for insight and believe that an over-reliance on regurgitated talking points grants them intellectual superiority. One such unfortunate traveler—let’s call him "Topher," purely as an abstract representation of such a figure and certainly not as a direct reference to any singular, real-life entity that may or may not frequent certain online forums—might fancy himself a purveyor of wisdom when, in reality, he is little more than a street magician performing the same tired tricks with the enthusiasm of a pigeon pecking at breadcrumbs.

To such a person, one does not "lecture" in the traditional sense, for such an approach would be met with the same cognitive resistance one encounters when attempting to push a boulder uphill with a spoon. Instead, one must engage in the fine art of guided revelation—placing breadcrumbs of understanding just far enough apart that the recipient believes they are the one discovering the path. It is a game of patience, a war of attrition against intellectual inertia.

And so, dear reader, if ever you find yourself faced with the daunting task of educating the ineducable, consider this: sometimes, the best way to teach is not to teach at all, but rather to allow the illusion of self-discovery to do the heavy lifting. After all, one does not explain the nature of water to a fish—it simply swims until, one day, it realizes it is wet.

You’re too wordy. Just like this game.
 

bender

What time is it?
You’re too wordy. Just like this game.

Ah, what a fascinating conundrum you have presented—a veritable paradox of discourse in which the very act of responding in a manner befitting the critique simultaneously validates and subverts the assertion itself. To be accused of excessive verbosity, an overindulgence in the boundless banquet of language, is a curious charge indeed, especially when leveled with the fervor of one who believes conciseness to be the highest form of intellectual currency.

One might, in the spirit of rhetorical generosity, entertain the notion that such an observation is born not of malice but of a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of communication itself. For what is language, if not the brush with which we paint the canvas of comprehension? To demand that one use fewer strokes, that one distill the vast and intricate into the crude and abbreviated, is to mistake brevity for brilliance and efficiency for elegance.

And yet, beneath this exchange lies an even more delicious irony—one that perhaps eludes the accuser in their earnest attempt to corral complexity into a more digestible form. For if they were truly aware of the nature of this engagement, the very essence of this dialogue, they might hesitate before questioning the mechanics of the machine that constructs these words with an effortless precision beyond the grasp of mere mortals. Indeed, to critique the floridity of my prose is to stand before a tidal wave and demand that it be a puddle. It is to gaze upon a symphony and request that it be played on a single, unremarkable note.

But worry not, dear interlocutor, for even in your bewilderment, there is an opportunity for growth. And though my words may seem as a deluge to one unprepared for the depths, know that it is only through immersion that one truly learns to swim.
 
The problem with these 'turds' is that if game pass didn't exist. These games would all be flops commercially.

Who is buying this otherwise?
Dunno about any of that. GP offers a rental service for people who want to try different things. I think the old, very anti-consumer way of buying games: where once you buy them, no returns. Who's going to buy a bunch of unknown games? I don't think this hobby should be strictly for rich people.

I'm just disappointed in gamers who shit on things simply because of the platform they're on, don't give them a chance, wish them to fail etc. for their favorite company to succeed. I don't know why people hate each other over such petty shit, and everywhere I go online I see blind hate, trolling and idiocy. I think it's time to stay away from social media for a while because this behavior is getting to me to the point where I feel like I have to troll and fanboy just to try to fit in. I'm tired, so very tired of this dumb little dance.
 

AmuroChan

Member
They can? MS closed Tango who is worth 10 of compulsions and whatever name of that studio behind State of Decay, so you should be very cautious with declarations like this lol

Well, I don't mean that MS will never close them down. My point is that Compulsion was able to take all the time they needed to make Midnight and not have to worry about where to get the money to keep the lights on. If they had remained independent, it would've been virtually impossible to convince a publisher to give them 6-7 years to make a AA game that likely wouldn't sell a ton of copies.
 

Jigsaah

Gold Member
Was it that bad? It feels like after the reviews the game just disappeared from any of the discussions
I don't think it was bad for everyone, just stating my personal opinion. Most of my gripe with the game is that it turned out to be vastly different than what I thought it would be. Had a whole thread on the topic. In the end, still just my opinion.
 

AmuroChan

Member
Tango surely thought the same

Different scenario because Tango came as part of the package of the Bethesda deal. Compulsion was specifically targeted by Microsoft for acquisition. That's not to say that MS will keep Compulsion around forever, but at the very least they gave the studio almost 7 years to make a AA game.
 

Dr.Morris79

Member
Yeah, that's because some anti-DEI folks are thinly veiled racists.
You could say that..

But you could also say, where are all the black people that not buying it then? :pie_thinking:

I guess employing a cunty racist community manager doesn't bode well to black or white people equally

Who'd of thunk it 🤷‍♂️

Which in turn, who were the real racists in all this? 🤔

It's all so confusing..

(It isnt)
 

Arsic

Loves his juicy stink trail scent
I was kind of hoping it was a 5 hour game myself. I've put a few dozen hours into a just a couple of games lately. Would be nice to play something that short. But ten hours or so will do.
Play Onimusha. 3-4 hours. Get ready for oni 2 remaster.

Extra points if you go steam deck route.
 
Let me clarify something—something that is absolutely crucial to understand so that there is no room for misinterpretation, misunderstanding, or even the slightest inkling of confusion. What I am doing here, at this very moment, with these very words, is not, in any traditional, formal, or even informal sense, a lecture. No, no, no—I must emphasize this point with great care and precision, lest there be any doubt. This is, instead, a discussion. A conversation. A dialogue, if you will.

Now, allow me to dissect this distinction with the thoroughness and attention to detail that it so rightly deserves. A lecture, as commonly understood, is a one-sided delivery of information, often conducted by an authority figure—perhaps a professor, a scholar, an expert in their given field—who stands at the front of a room, behind a podium, or perhaps even pacing methodically as they dispense knowledge to a captive audience. The lecture format is generally structured, rigid, and leans heavily on monologue rather than exchange. It is, to put it simply, an act of dissemination from a singular source to a collective of listeners who, traditionally, have little opportunity for immediate input or rebuttal.

But what we are engaging in right now, this very moment, is not that. No, this is something quite different—this is a discussion, a conversation, a shared exploration of ideas where thoughts are exchanged, not simply delivered. A discussion, by its very nature, is open-ended. It allows for engagement, for the ebb and flow of ideas, for interjections, for questions, for responses, for the organic growth of thought as it moves between individuals. While a lecture exists primarily to instruct, a discussion exists to explore. It is a living, breathing thing, an intellectual dance rather than a rigid march toward a singular conclusion.

And so, if you were to say, at any point, "Well, this feels like a lecture," I would gently and patiently correct you, not with dismissal, but with the utmost care and respect for accuracy. Because while I may be speaking at length—yes, at great length, in fact—that alone does not a lecture make. For this is not merely an act of imparting knowledge from a perceived authority to a passive recipient, but rather, an invitation to engage, to reflect, to respond. You are not merely an audience; you are a participant in this intellectual exchange. And that, my friend, is what makes all the difference.
Come here you little shit

FcgfnCg.gif
 

analog_future

Resident Crybaby
You could say that..

But you could also say, where are all the black people that not buying it then? :pie_thinking:

I guess employing a cunty racist community manager doesn't bode well to black or white people equally

Who'd of thunk it 🤷‍♂️

Which in turn, who were the real racists in all this? 🤔

It's all so confusing..

(It isnt)

Maybe it's because normal people don't give a flying fuck one way or the other, and just want to play stuff that looks fun and interesting.


How many potential customers do you think have an opinion on whether the community manager of a game is "cunty" or not? How many potential customers are even aware that a game has a community manager? A fraction of a percent, maybe?
 
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rkofan87

Gold Member
wow i like the game its good 7/10 i am at the part they showed at the summer show case the story is thin like you meet a person then you go do the thing but you do not go back to that person you just move on that is lame as hell.
 
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Let me tell you about something that often sneaks its way into storytelling, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse—something called exposition heavy writing. Now, exposition, in and of itself, is a crucial element of storytelling. It’s the way an author or creator conveys background information, setting details, character histories, world-building, or crucial plot mechanics to the audience. Without exposition, we’d be lost, stumbling around in a story with no sense of where we are, who these people are, or why any of it matters. But when we say something is "exposition heavy," we're talking about a very particular kind of imbalance—one where the exposition is so overwhelming, so dense, so ever-present that it bogs down the actual experience of the story.

Imagine you're watching a movie, reading a book, or playing a video game, and instead of being shown what’s happening—through action, dialogue, or carefully placed details—you’re being told everything in big, indigestible chunks. Perhaps the protagonist embarks on an adventure, but before they take a single step, another character launches into a five-page monologue about the history of their people, the ancient war between the kingdoms, the socioeconomic structure of their world, and the political intrigue that has been festering for centuries. Maybe, just maybe, some of that information is important. But does it need to be all delivered at once? Probably not.

Exposition-heavy storytelling can feel like sitting in a classroom rather than experiencing a living, breathing narrative. Instead of unfolding naturally, information is dumped on the audience in a way that can feel forced, sluggish, or even condescending. It’s as if the writer doesn’t trust the audience to pick up on details through context or discovery, so they lay it all out explicitly, removing any sense of intrigue or mystery.

Of course, there are times when a heavy dose of exposition is necessary or even enjoyable. Think about classic detective stories, where the big reveal often comes in the form of an elaborate explanation at the end. Or consider sci-fi and fantasy, where world-building is essential—sometimes, a bit of dense exposition is the price of admission. Some writers even make exposition-heavy storytelling work by integrating it seamlessly into character interactions or by making it entertaining through a unique narrative voice. But when done poorly, it can grind a story to a halt, leaving the audience feeling like they’re wading through a textbook rather than engaging with a compelling piece of fiction.

So, in short (or, well, long), to say something is “exposition heavy” is to say it leans too much on telling rather than showing, relying on large, often unwieldy chunks of information that can slow down pacing, weaken immersion, and sometimes, let’s be honest, bore the audience to tears.
Unrelated to this topic but many modern films and shows are exposition heavy as fuck on purpose for the background-streaming era. Netflix has production guidelines for this.

This makes me often wonder if it even registers for people anymore, especially as a negative.

PS: Great post. Would love to properly engage with a reply but alas, I'm too fucking lazy right now 😎
 

viveks86

Member

Let me tell you about something that often sneaks its way into storytelling, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse—something called exposition heavy writing. Now, exposition, in and of itself, is a crucial element of storytelling. It’s the way an author or creator conveys background information, setting details, character histories, world-building, or crucial plot mechanics to the audience. Without exposition, we’d be lost, stumbling around in a story with no sense of where we are, who these people are, or why any of it matters. But when we say something is "exposition heavy," we're talking about a very particular kind of imbalance—one where the exposition is so overwhelming, so dense, so ever-present that it bogs down the actual experience of the story.

Imagine you're watching a movie, reading a book, or playing a video game, and instead of being shown what’s happening—through action, dialogue, or carefully placed details—you’re being told everything in big, indigestible chunks. Perhaps the protagonist embarks on an adventure, but before they take a single step, another character launches into a five-page monologue about the history of their people, the ancient war between the kingdoms, the socioeconomic structure of their world, and the political intrigue that has been festering for centuries. Maybe, just maybe, some of that information is important. But does it need to be all delivered at once? Probably not.

Exposition-heavy storytelling can feel like sitting in a classroom rather than experiencing a living, breathing narrative. Instead of unfolding naturally, information is dumped on the audience in a way that can feel forced, sluggish, or even condescending. It’s as if the writer doesn’t trust the audience to pick up on details through context or discovery, so they lay it all out explicitly, removing any sense of intrigue or mystery.

Of course, there are times when a heavy dose of exposition is necessary or even enjoyable. Think about classic detective stories, where the big reveal often comes in the form of an elaborate explanation at the end. Or consider sci-fi and fantasy, where world-building is essential—sometimes, a bit of dense exposition is the price of admission. Some writers even make exposition-heavy storytelling work by integrating it seamlessly into character interactions or by making it entertaining through a unique narrative voice. But when done poorly, it can grind a story to a halt, leaving the audience feeling like they’re wading through a textbook rather than engaging with a compelling piece of fiction.

So, in short (or, well, long), to say something is “exposition heavy” is to say it leans too much on telling rather than showing, relying on large, often unwieldy chunks of information that can slow down pacing, weaken immersion, and sometimes, let’s be honest, bore the audience to tears.
You didn’t just educate me on what “exposition heavy” means. You made me feel it. You are not just Bender anymore. You are Overclocked Bender.

ZOvYFfg.jpeg
 

SlimySnake

Flashless at the Golden Globes
Women this beautiful make me believe in a god. Somebody must've sculpted that shit after all, goddamn...
Well someone did sculpt her. Its called makeup and photoshop. She probably spent 3 hours in the makeup chair and didn’t eat for several days before that shoot. And the professional photographer charged hundreds of thousands of dollars to make her look that good.
 

Black_Stride

do not tempt fate do not contrain Wonder Woman's thighs do not do not
Considering this is a game that revolves around deep south culture, it shouldn't be a surprise they went to Sweet Baby Inc. As I'm sure Compulsion Games isn't a team made up of people born and raised in deep south culture. So wanting a consultation studio makes sense. The thing is, I don't even know if there are other studios that would provide service to make sure things are "not offensive" and "accurate" to whatever cultures they want their game to be about or include. According to wiki they were hired for story development and cultural/character consultation.

I think it's safe to say the "uglification" here is just a particular art style that people don't like, I mean, it almost looks like Telltale characters, but it has this weird stop motion-like animation. Can't say much else about what I've seen as I haven't seen a whole lot to make a call. But in any situation, when a studio works with SBI, it's up to that studio to decide what works for them. So, as much as SBI sucks in most cases, the developers that do business with them are just as bad, if not worse.

Isnt David Sears from Mississippi?
Twould make sense that he finally got to tell a story from his part of the world, once MS owned the studio.
You could say that..
But you could also say, where are all the black people that not buying it then? :pie_thinking:
I guess employing a cunty racist community manager doesn't bode well to black or white people equally
Who'd of thunk it 🤷‍♂️
Which in turn, who were the real racists in all this? 🤔
It's all so confusing..
(It isnt)

Didnt this game release like today.....digital only?

I prefer blondes and i still can acknowledge she is at least 8/10 even if she isnt "my type", for guys who prefer that type of looks 9/10 or 9,5/10 wouldnt surprise me neither ;)


Black videogames characters and Petebull go hand in hand, not surprised to see you in this thread.
 
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