The first time I started playing Reanimal, I didn’t feel powerful.
I felt responsible.
You play as a brother and sister searching for their missing friends on a terrifying island, and from the moment I took control, I wasn’t thinking about mechanics or strategy. I was thinking, “Okay… how do I get these kids through this safely?”
Because that’s what it feels like. Not domination. Not combat mastery. Survival.
Before I go deeper, here’s the first 30 minutes of gameplay. This is where the tone really sets in — the pacing, the tension, the quiet dread. Pay attention to how the camera frames the siblings together. It doesn’t give you distance. It keeps you close.
This Isn’t About Fighting — It’s About Enduring
Let’s clear something up: Reanimal is not built around combat loops. I wasn’t running around attacking enemies. I was navigating spaces carefully. Timing movements. Solving environmental obstacles. Avoiding danger.
The horror here is atmospheric and psychological. You move by boat. You move on foot. You work with your sibling. You stay alert.
It reminds me of Little Nightmares, but heavier.
And because the protagonists are children, every encounter feels more intense. When something massive shifts in the background or a twisted creature enters the frame, I don’t think, “Let’s go.”
I think, “Eek, Run! Run! Run!”
Camera Claustrophobia
The shared, directed camera is one of the most interesting choices in the game. It keeps both characters in frame. It tightens space. It doesn’t let you drift into comfort.
There were moments where I felt boxed in — not because of poor design, but because it’s intentional. Claustrophobia is part of the experience.
And honestly? It works for the most part, but when the tension is high and you need to run — it's not good to have sightlines obscured.
The Monsters Feel Personal
Tarsier Studios said the monsters were inspired by fragments of troubled childhood memories — and you can feel that. The designs aren’t random. They feel symbolic. Twisted versions of something once innocent.
That makes the experience heavier.
There’s dread, yes. But there’s also this thread of hope woven in. The game calls it “Horror with Hope,” and while playing, I understood that. You’re constantly moving forward because stopping isn’t an option.
They’re trying to save their friends.
And I want to see them succeed.
It’s Rated M for a Reason
Let me say this clearly: Reanimal is rated M for Mature 17+.
Even though you play as children, this is not a children’s game. The imagery, atmosphere, and themes are dark. Very dark.
Please keep it away from younger eyes. The emotional weight alone is heavy enough.
Patches Incoming!
Some players have been waiting on Patch 1.5. The development team addressed it directly:
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Steam’s version is complete.
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Console versions need a few extra days.
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Crossplay only works when everyone is on the same version.
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Instead of splitting the community, they’re holding the full release until all platforms align.
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A separate branch is open for those who don’t use crossplay.
If you're someone playing co-op and cares about the shared experience, that decision feels thoughtful.
For a game built around siblings surviving together, protecting the shared experience makes sense. So bring on the patches!
Why I’m Rooting So Hard for Them
Maybe it’s because I grew up with brothers. Maybe it’s because when things get difficult in real life, you don’t abandon family.
While playing Reanimal, I wasn’t chasing achievements.
I was holding my breath during tense moments. I was double-checking jumps. I hated when we got separated from an NPC.
This isn’t a power fantasy.
It’s a survival story about children trying to save each other in a world that's very broken.
And every time we escaped a close call, I think the same thing:
Okay. We made it. Keep going.
