South of Midnight is made by Compulsion Games, the studio behind We Happy Few and Contrast, and marks their first project under the Xbox Game Studios banner. While their previous work leaned into experimental design, this new title strikes a different chord, one that’s moody, mythic, and deeply rooted in the haunted beauty of the Deep South. It’s a place where every mossy branch and ghost-lit swamp feels stitched with sorrow, emotional wounds, and lingering stigma.
Stitching a Southern Folktale
You play as Hazel, a young woman forced into an ancient role known as the Weaver after your mother has been swept away due to a hurricane. As a Weaver, Hazel gains the ability to see and interact with the Grand Tapestry, the invisible threads that connect all things. It’s through this lens that you explore the decaying and magical corners of the American South, meeting creatures born of folklore and trauma. From the towering catfish known as Catfish himself to the mournful myth of Huggin’ Molly, each encounter feels pulled straight from the pages of a Folktale.
The game doesn’t just borrow from Southern myth, it recontextualizes it. Through environmental storytelling, collectibles, and quiet, poignant moments, South of Midnight gently unravels commentary on the history of slavery, systemic poverty, and how people and communities are broken by generational trauma. It never preaches, but it doesn’t flinch either. The critique is in the soil, the music, the air—and it lingers long after the screen fades to black.
Weaving function into feelings
Gameplay in South of Midnight blends familiar third-person action-adventure elements, combat, traversal, light puzzle-solving—but with enough heart and cohesion to feel fresh. The platforming may bring to mind classic 3D adventure tropes, but every mechanic, from double jumps to gliding and spellcasting, feels grounded in the world’s rules and rhythms. Combat is kept cleanly separate from exploration, with haunted arenas where you must clear out Haints—manifestations of emotional corruption, before moving on. These fights often serve a narrative purpose as well, unlocking memories or bottled fragments of the past.
Hazel’s magical toolkit, including the Hooks and Spindles she wields as a Weaver, allows for both elegant environmental interaction and deeply satisfying enemy control. Each spell you gain—push, pull, weave, puppet—serves a dual function: helpful in battle and in traversal. What’s most impressive is how seamlessly every mechanic fits into the world’s logic—nothing feels out of place, and nothing is overused. Every tool, every move, and every spell has its moment, and each contributes meaningfully to the game’s sense of rhythm and place. The pacing here is superb.
Souped-up sidekick
One standout addition is Crouton, Hazel’s animated ragdoll companion. Introduced partway through the game, Crouton adds an inventive layer to both puzzle-solving and combat. You can toss him through narrow gaps, trigger switches, or even possess enemies temporarily—bringing a small but meaningful shift to how you engage with the world. He’s more than just a gameplay gimmick—Crouton brings a lighthearted energy to Hazel’s journey with his wiggly movement, squeaky sounds, and pint-sized presence. Crouton offers just the right amount of charm and creativity without disrupting the tone.
Southern sounds and visual poetry
From a purely sensory standpoint, South of Midnight is a triumph. The art direction embraces stop-motion-inspired character animations and a handcrafted visual style that leans into its folktale roots without ever feeling gimmicky. The lighting and color palette evolve fluidly throughout the journey—from the murky greens and browns of swampy bayous to the sun-drenched farmlands and finally into the glowing neons and theatrical hues of New Orleans-inspired dreamscapes. It’s a visual odyssey that mirrors the emotional one, capturing both history and fantasy in equal measure.
The soundtrack, composed by Olivier Derivière (A Plague Tale, Streets of Rage 4), deserves special mention. It’s a sweeping sonic journey through the cultural heartbeat of the South, pulling from spirituals and slave hymns, weaving through the raw emotion of Delta blues, dancing into the syncopated rhythms of ragtime, and rising into the celebratory brass of New Orleans jazz. The score doesn’t just accompany the story—it carries it, echoing every emotional high and low with grace and precision.
Conclusion
South of Midnight is not just another adventure game. It’s a soulful, strange, and surprisingly powerful meditation on grief, healing, and the invisible weight of history. It tells a story that feels necessary without ever shouting its message, and it wraps it all in gameplay and design that elevate the emotional core rather than distract from it. It’s hard to walk away from this game and not feel moved. South of Midnight will undoubtedly be on my shortlist for Game of the Year. I couldn’t stop playing, and more importantly, I didn’t want to.
