While waiting for Little Nightmares 3 to arrive, I went back and replayed the first two games, and I was reminded just how much creepier the first one is than its sequel. The Janitor, with his sinisterly stretched arms that could seemingly reach the silent protagonist, Six, wherever she hid, was the stuff of children’s night terrors. The chefs, with their unsettling fleshy masks, taunted me with the truth that was veiled behind them. It’s a reveal the game never offers, leaving my imagination to run wild. The second game was still one I enjoyed very much, but it felt like Tarsier Studios had toned down some of the grotesque, haunting displays in the sequel. It failed to create memorable villains on par with the original. Little Nightmares 3 changes hands to the horror veterans at Supermassive Games, and though the addition of co-op is a great fit, it feels similarly sanitized and overly familiar at times. It’s as though it looked to the sequel more than the original for the blueprint.
Little Nightmares 3, like the previous games, is a cinematic horror-platformer, now newly built for two players–or one player and an AI companion. Without loading screens or virtually any prompts on the screen, it’s extremely immersive, dropping you into a world that runs on nightmare fuel. Both this game’s story and the broader universe are purposely vague, and this has always been the series’ best attribute. Scurrying through dark apartments, rundown schools, foggy beaches, and haunted libraries nails the intent to present the world as an ever-present threat that is effective not just because it looks and sounds scary or because you’ll reliably find yourself dashing away from monsters.
Instead, the world itself is so hard to grasp, operating on dream logic, like someone has extracted the real memories of kids’ nightmares and put them into a game. This means every creepy encounter with its monsters of different shapes and sizes always comes with bewilderment. What is this, and how do I evade it? The rules of the world are always changing, and with uncertainty comes fear.
