The Beira D oil rig is a metal carcass rotting in the middle of the North Sea, and honestly, it’s one of the most stressful places I’ve ever "visited." When The Chinese Room announced they were making a return to narrative horror, people expected something like Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs. What we got with Still Wakes the Deep was something much more visceral, claustrophobic, and surprisingly human. It isn’t just about a monster. It’s about the crushing weight of the ocean, the freezing Scottish rain, and the realization that you’re stuck on a sinking tomb with things that used to be your mates.
Most horror games try to make you feel powerful or, at the very least, give you a flashlight that never dies. This game? It strips everything away. You play as Caz McLeary, a Glaswegian electrician who’s on the rig mostly because he’s running away from some legal trouble back home. He’s not a hero. He’s just a guy who knows how to wire a circuit breaker and is currently terrified out of his mind.
The Terror of the Mundane
The genius of Still Wakes the Deep lies in its setting. It is 1975. There are no smartphones. No GPS. Just chunky analog dials, heavy steel doors, and the constant, rhythmic groaning of a rig that was never meant to withstand what’s happening to it. When the drill hits something it shouldn't have, the horror that unfolds isn't some tidy alien invasion. It's a biological, shifting mass of geometry and flesh that defies logic.
📖 Related: Disney Dreamlight Valley Spring Taste Test: Why Most Players Get Stuck
But the "monster" isn't even the scariest part.
The environment is. The Chinese Room spent an incredible amount of time researching the architecture of 1970s oil rigs. You can feel the cold. The sound design is so heavy—clanging pipes, the roar of the gale, the way the water sloshes in flooded corridors—that you’ll find yourself holding your breath during the quiet moments. It’s a masterclass in atmospheric pressure.
Why the Voice Acting Changes Everything
You’ve probably played games where the protagonist sounds like a generic action hero. Still Wakes the Deep avoids this by leaning heavily into its Scottish roots. The dialogue is authentic. It’s foul-mouthed, gritty, and deeply emotional. Alec Newman’s performance as Caz is standout because he sounds genuinely panicked. Not "video game" panicked, but "I am about to die in the dark" panicked.
The supporting cast makes the horror personal. When you find your crewmates, or what’s left of them, it isn't just a jump scare. It's a tragedy. You’ve spent the first thirty minutes of the game walking through the canteen, hearing them bicker about the food or their families. When the "thing" starts changing them, it’s heartbreaking. The game uses body horror not just to gross you out, but to make you mourn the people these creatures used to be.
A Different Kind of Cosmic Horror
Usually, cosmic horror (think Lovecraft) is about giant squids or ancient gods in the sky. This is different. It’s localized. It’s intimate. The "entity" in the game doesn't have a name. It doesn't have a manifesto. It just is. It grows through the rig like a cancer made of iridescent light and distorted limbs.
💡 You might also like: Why Every Big Box of Pokemon Cards Isn't Created Equal
There’s a specific sequence involving a flooded engineering bay that I still think about. You aren't fighting. You’re just trying to turn a valve while something screams in a voice that sounds suspiciously like your boss. It’s deeply unsettling. The game forces you to interact with the machinery of the rig—pulling levers, rotating wheels, shimmying across ledges—which makes the physical presence of the threat feel much more real than if you were just shooting at it.
Technical Prowess and the Unreal Engine 5 Edge
Let’s talk about the visuals because they are, frankly, ridiculous. Using Unreal Engine 5, the developers managed to capture the specific way North Sea water looks—thick, dark, and lethal. The lighting is particularly impressive. Since much of the game takes place during a power failure, you’re relying on emergency lights and your headlamp. The way the light reflects off the oily surfaces and the pulsating, organic growths of the monster creates a high-contrast nightmare that looks like a high-budget film.
- The lighting physics: Every spark from a shorted wire illuminates the fog and steam realistically.
- The animation: Caz’s hands shake when he’s reaching for a ladder.
- The scale: Looking out from the helideck at the collapsing rig makes you feel incredibly small.
It’s one of the few games that actually justifies the "next-gen" tag. It runs surprisingly well on modern hardware, though you’ll want a decent GPU to see the particle effects in their full glory.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Gameplay
If you go into Still Wakes the Deep expecting Resident Evil, you’re going to be disappointed. There is no combat. You cannot kill the entities. This is a "hide and pray" kind of game, often labeled as a walking simulator, but that’s a reductive way to describe it. The gameplay is about navigation and environmental puzzle-solving under extreme duress.
Some critics argued it’s too linear. Sure, you aren't exploring an open world. But the linearity serves the pacing. Like a good thriller movie, it knows exactly when to speed up and when to let you simmer in the silence. The "puzzles" aren't head-scratchers; they are tasks. Fix the power. Get to the lifeboats. Find a way through the laundry room. This grounded approach keeps the stakes feeling personal rather than abstract.
The Cultural Significance of the Setting
Setting the game in 1975 Scotland isn't just a stylistic choice. It speaks to a specific era of industrial labor. These men were isolated, doing dangerous work for companies that didn't necessarily value their lives. There is a subtext of corporate negligence that flows beneath the supernatural horror. The rig is failing because it's being pushed too hard, and the workers are the ones paying the price.
This adds a layer of "social horror" to the experience. Even before the monster shows up, there's tension between the crew and the management. Caz’s own backstory—fleeing a violent confrontation on the mainland—paints a picture of a man trapped by his own choices, mirrored by his physical entrapment on the Beira D.
Navigating the Trauma
The ending of the game—which I won’t spoil—is heavy. It doesn't offer easy answers or a Hollywood explosion where everything is fixed. It’s a somber meditation on sacrifice and the things we do for the people we love. It lingers. You’ll finish the four-to-six-hour campaign and feel like you’ve actually been through something exhausting.
Practical Insights for Players
If you’re planning to dive into the North Sea, here’s how to get the most out of it:
Don't Rush the Intro. The first twenty minutes of the game are peaceful. Use them. Talk to everyone. Read the notes in the cabins. The horror only works if you care about the rig, so take the time to learn the layout and the personalities of the crew.
Play with Headphones. This is non-negotiable. The spatial audio is a key gameplay mechanic. You need to hear exactly where the "crawling" sounds are coming from to know which vent to hide under. The Scottish accents can also be quite thick, so if you aren't familiar with the dialect, turning on subtitles might help you catch the gallows humor in the dialogue.
Check the Accessibility Settings. The Chinese Room included some great options here. If you find the "shaky cam" or the narrow field of view (FOV) nauseating, you can adjust them. There is also a "Story Mode" if you just want to experience the narrative without the stress of being caught by the creatures.
Focus on the Yellow. Like many modern games, "yellow paint" or yellow objects usually indicate the path forward. In the chaos of a collapsing rig, it’s easy to get turned around. Look for the yellow railings or tape if you feel lost in the dark.
Prepare for a Short Session. This isn't a 40-hour epic. It’s a tight, focused experience. It’s best played over one or two nights to keep the tension high. Treat it like a miniseries rather than a standard game.
Still Wakes the Deep stands as a testament to what happens when a developer prioritizes atmosphere and character over traditional "gamey" mechanics. It’s a frightening, beautiful, and heart-wrenching journey that proves the best horror doesn't always come from the stars—sometimes, it comes from the deep.
✨ Don't miss: Call of Duty Black Ops 3 Spectre: What Most People Get Wrong
To get started, check the system requirements if you're on PC, as the Unreal Engine 5 features are demanding. If you’re on console, the "Performance Mode" is generally recommended to keep the frame rate stable during the more chaotic environmental collapses. Once you start, keep moving, stay low, and whatever you do, don't look back when you hear your name called from the dark.