The developers of The Crush House, Nerial, describe the game as as a “thirst person shooter,” and it’s a surprisingly accurate tagline. A grand vaporwave-and-neon mansion stands on the Malibu coastline, and you – Jae, the producer – sleep in the bleak little basement underneath it. Your job is to stalk around the house behind a camera, filming the glamorous, sexy participants in a reality show. You choose the cast every season, from a panel of 12, and you trail them around the lurid property, hoping they fight, or make out, or both, so that your ratings will go up and your viewers will be satisfied. You can move about freely, but are warned to absolutely never talk to the cast. The game certainly does, as the tagline suggests, take on the feel of a first-person shooter, but you wield a camera instead of a gun. Think Pokémon Snap, but sexy.
Every night, a different set of audiences tune in, and all of them have very specific needs – some want drama, some want to see the art that hangs in the house, some want to see food being prepared. And yes, some want to see feet, lots of feet – or other body parts, zoomed in on, and in detail. And your job is to please all of them, or risk cancellation.
This makes the experience of play a delightful, surprising cinematography simulator. The demands of the audience scroll in on the side of the screen, instructing you to seek out the place where the cast sleep, or asking where they shower, or asking if anybody is ever going to make out for once. They’re freaks, but you have to do what they say, or you’ll get axed. The writing is sharp and funny, and sometimes a little shocking – it is easily one of the funniest games I’ve played all year. The dialogue between the cast members runs algorithmically – each of the 12 brings something slightly different, and has a different likelihood of hitting it off or clashing with the other housemates, meaning every combination is a surprise. If one set doesn’t work, there’s always next season to try a different combination. The housemates don’t mind – they come back fresh, almost as if they’ve had their memories wiped, or something worse.
At night, once the housemates retreat to bed, the player re-enters the house to add props that make the house more interesting. These props – some of which serve specific housemate’s interests – cost money, earned by running surreal ads throughout the day. Balancing the ads with the audiences who might enjoy them is another task – more highly engaged audiences will bring in more cash, of course, which might allow you to buy, say, a sauna. A lighthouse. A saxophone. All of which make the house more interesting.
However, after dark, as you install your props, you might also come upon an escaped housemate who would like you to do them a favour. More airtime, specific angles, catching them making out with two different people to really stick it to their mom, personal requests. It’s up to you if you want to fulfil them, and taking this route unlocks the story beneath the good times by the swimming pool and deep chats at the fire pit. There is, of course, more than meets the eye going on – and what a joy it is to discover the lingering darkness behind the neon lights.
If The Crush House had simply been a smart and funny photography and cinematography game, I would have been satisfied and pleased – but it offers the player far more than that. Underneath the snappy text and playful design, it has a weird heart, too. It’s worth noting that the review build still had moments of glitchiness – however the strength of the idea and execution far outweighs any of the technical struggles. This in itself is remarkable: The Crush House is so much fun that even the slightly broken parts didn’t make me want to turn it off. It’s a fantastic way to spend the last few chill nights of summer – and the seasons coming up, too.
