In Madison Karrh’s new point-and-click game, birth follows death.
It would be a Frankenstein story, if it ever felt even slightly gothic.
Instead, it’s so much better.
It feels strange and personal, like being privy to someone’s daydreams.
Birth review
Birth is almost wordless.
Old wrists, empty teacups, laundry silently tumbling in a dryer.
It’s a reminder that beneath genre every game is ultimately itself, existing in a genre of one.
Not all the activities have such clear logic, though, and that feels like a strength here.
Birth is ready to bypass logic and meet you somewhere a bit deeper.
It now feels like a rare failing in manual typewriters that they don’t all do this.
That stuff, though.
There might be inverted starbursts of mold.
You are doing these people favours - or are you?
The soundtrack is mournful and unsettling.
Where will Birth take you?
I would love to know.
I was in a place where there would be nobody to recognise, only familiarthings.
It takes me back further too, and I think it’s intended to.
This may be her most potent, her most delicate in its probing.
