The Midnight Walk Reviews
A beautiful, bittersweet adventure that's best played in VR.
As a VR-optional walkabout adventure, The Midnight Walk is light on thrills or variety, but it makes up for that with some of the most arresting and artistically accomplished visuals inside a headset.
The Midnight Walk is a beautiful work of art. I wish it were a full-blown movie instead of a game because the gameplay is as barebones as it gets for first-person adventure games. As a kid’s first horror game, The Midnight Walk is a superb entry-level option that teaches them to get to grips with first-person stealth and puzzles. At times, it’s even a little scary.
Incredible visual presentation, an arresting atmosphere, and a charming travel partner make it worth taking a trip down The Midnight Walk.
Through darkness, a light must shine through The MidNight Walk...
I've been keeping my eye on The Midnight Walk for a while now and was not disappointed in the final presentation. It's gross, and disfigured in all the best ways, and does amazing work with mixing animation, claymation, and film media to craft something truly special. This game is an accomplishment and one of the best arguments for games as an art form this year.
The Sun has disappeared, waters dried out, and darkness slowly creeped upon the inhabitants of this hand-moulded land of clay. Heads have forsaken bodies, houses started walking and creators felt unfulfilled. Horrors of beyond, terror and somber spread. Bizarrely scary, yet wonderful world, that resonates with lovely tunes and immaculate voices. And now as a last hope, the Burnt One and his Potboy friend have embarked on their Midnight Walk to journey to the Moon Mountain, in hopes of spreading the fire where others before them have failed to do so.
Review in Slovak | Read full review
An adventure game with puzzle, stealth and horror elements, The Midnight Walk isn't all that complex mechanically. Its dark, intriguing world will grab your attention, though, and you'll soon come to love your companion, Potboy, making you want to see your journey through to its end. If you have the required hardware, you can play in VR, too, which is a nice touch.
A touching and eerie story about how a ray of light in the dark can truly change everything if used correctly.
Review in Russian | Read full review
The Midnight Walk is a breathtaking and deeply emotional artistic experience brought to life from the heart and soul by the artistic hands of the members of MoonHood. This short but unforgettable journey, where light and hope struggle with darkness and suffering, not only delights the eyes with its mesmerizing detail, but also with its unique sound and powerful storytelling, will forever remain in our hearts.
Review in Persian | Read full review
The Midnight Walk is a deeply rewarding journey that pulls you in from start to finish. Its sinister and macabre world holds a breathtaking beauty, inviting the player to light a match and lose themselves in it.
Review in Spanish | Read full review
Visually beautiful and boasting first-class sound design, The Midnight Walk does not impress as positively in gameplay.
Review in Italian | Read full review
There is a piece of advice that often follows those who write about video games: “Never become too attached to a game, otherwise you may lose the ability to judge it objectively.” It is a principle built on good intentions. Criticism requires distance, the willingness to acknowledge flaws even in works we admire, and the discipline to separate personal affection from critical evaluation. Yet there is another danger, one that is perhaps easier to overlook: becoming so accustomed to breaking games down into mechanics, systems, technical performance, and design choices that we lose sight of the reason we fell in love with this medium in the first place. Before we were critics, we were players. We were the people who stood in awe before impossible landscapes, who formed genuine connections with fictional characters, and who found comfort, inspiration, or even moments of personal reflection within stories experienced through a screen. Beneath all the discussions surrounding resolution, frame rates, level design, and mechanical depth lies the fundamental quality that has always defined video games at their best: their ability to make us feel something. The Midnight Walk is a reminder of that simple, yet often forgotten truth. It would be easy to conclude this review by focusing exclusively on what MoonHood has achieved: a handcrafted world sculpted from hundreds of pieces of clay, an artistic identity unlike anything else in the current landscape, a hauntingly beautiful soundtrack, and an extraordinary level of care that can be felt in every frame. All of that would be true. It would also be fair to acknowledge that the game’s intentionally restrained approach to gameplay comes with limitations. Its mechanics are deliberately simple, and while this minimalism perfectly supports the atmosphere and philosophy of the experience, certain systems and encounters could have benefited from greater depth, variety, and refinement. But reducing The Midnight Walk to a collection of strengths and weaknesses would only reveal a fraction of what makes it special. Some games are remembered because of what they offer: the number of mechanics they introduce, the size of their worlds, or the complexity of their systems. Others remain with us because of something far more difficult to quantify, the feeling they leave behind once everything has ended. That moment after the credits, when the screen fades and there is no immediate desire to move on to the next experience. When instead, there is a quiet pause. A moment spent remembering the journey, the characters, the places visited, and the emotions that accompanied every step. That is where the difference between a game that simply entertains and one that genuinely resonates becomes clear. During the journey alongside Potboy, The Midnight Walk repeatedly encourages players to slow down. Not through artificial restrictions, but through the natural pull of its world. There are moments when the player stops simply to observe the way a small flame illuminates the cracks of an unfinished clay surface, to listen to the silence of a world that has lost its sun, or to reconsider creatures that would have been instinctively labelled as monsters elsewhere. And perhaps this is MoonHood’s greatest achievement: not making players believe that this world is real, but making them care enough to see it differently. Throughout its entire adventure, The Midnight Walk quietly asks a question that extends far beyond its own narrative: what happens when we stop seeing darkness as something to fear? For generations, stories have taught us to associate darkness with danger, evil, and the unknown. It is something to overcome, something to illuminate, something from which we must protect ourselves. MoonHood chooses a far more thoughtful path. Here, darkness is not presented as an absence of hope, but as an essential part of existence itself. Because without darkness, light would have no meaning. And once our perception of darkness changes, so does the way we perceive those who live within it. The creatures encountered throughout the journey are not simply enemies waiting to be defeated. They are beings shaped by loneliness, grief, hunger, and the desperate search for warmth. They are not manifestations of evil, but reflections of a world that has forgotten how important compassion and understanding can be. This is where The Midnight Walk’s metaphor becomes truly powerful. Beneath its handcrafted surfaces and gothic fairy-tale aesthetic lies a deeply human observation: how often do we choose judgment before understanding? How often do we fear what is different before taking the time to listen? MoonHood does not suggest that darkness can simply disappear. Instead, it offers a more meaningful idea: not everything that exists within the darkness deserves to be feared. The brightest light is not always the one that reveals the path ahead. Sometimes, it is the one that allows us to see others more clearly. When the journey finally comes to an end, what remains is not only the memory of a remarkable artistic achievement, a world painstakingly crafted from clay, or a soundscape capable of transforming silence into emotion. What remains is something much harder to define. A small flame. A fragile source of warmth that continues to burn even when everything around it has fallen into darkness. And perhaps that is the true beauty of The Midnight Walk. MoonHood has created a game that understands creativity is at its most powerful when it is used to explore something deeply human. Because the most memorable games are not always the ones that overwhelm us with their scale or ambition. Sometimes, they are the ones that quietly change the way we look at the world. The Midnight Walk is one of those rare experiences. Not a flawless game, but an honest and deeply heartfelt one. A journey that does not pretend to have every answer, but possesses the courage to ask the questions that truly matter. And sometimes, the right question can be more powerful than any answer.
The Midnight Walk knows what it wants to be. It wants to be an atmospheric, handcrafted, slightly creepy storybook adventure about carrying light through darkness. For me, that was enough. The Midnight Walk is stunning, strange, heartfelt, and visually unforgettable. Its mechanics are simple, and one audio-focused idea did not land for me without the right setup, but the journey itself stuck with me.
When taking the whole experience into account, The Midnight Walk is a lot of style over substance that isn’t actually that much fun to play, which can work for some. Certainly, I’m sure there are some teenagers out there playing this game right now who are preparing to craft their entire personalities around it for the next few years to come. These things come in cycles, you see. But much like those same teenagers years later when reflecting on their blunder years, as I look back on my time with The Midnight Walk, I’m already struggling to recall specific details and why they were meant to be so important. In time the cycle will continue, and another “cute horror” game will emerge to remix the familiar into something vaguely new and neat. By then, your embers will most likely have been forgotten, little Pot Boy.
The Midnight Walk successfully transitions from VR to traditional gameplay, delivering a visually stunning stop-motion adventure filled with clever puzzles and a hauntingly beautiful world. Its handcrafted clay aesthetic and atmospheric storytelling make it one of the most unique indie experiences in recent years.
Review in Spanish | Read full review
The Midnight Walk is a journey that envelops us in its poetic darkness, symbolic light, and eccentric characters, where every scene feels like a work of art. The combination of unique aesthetics, suggestive narrative, and contemplative gameplay creates an intimate and immersive experience that leaves a lasting impression. It doesn't aim to be a complex mechanical challenge, but rather a sensory and emotional stroll that manages to thrill and fascinate. Undoubtedly, it's a title that demonstrates that video games can also be art in motion, and now, on Switch 2 as well.
Review in Spanish | Read full review
Recommending The Midnight Walk is almost trivial. It's a reflective, beautiful, and fun journey. The Switch 2 version follows the pattern of many ports I've been reviewing recently: it's in no way inferior to the original versions. Of course, the lack of VR can be pointed out, and if the reader is interested in that technology, I suggest they look for the game on PC or PlayStation 5, depending on the compatibility of their available hardware.
Review in Portuguese | Read full review
The Midnight Walk is a love letter to craftsmanship. It is an experience that proves video games can be moving pieces of art—perfect for those seeking to immerse themselves in a strange, dark, and haunting world.
Review in Spanish | Read full review
The Midnight Walk offers a haunting and reflective experience, blending stealth, puzzle-solving, and a unique handcrafted clay world. Its slow-paced narrative, built through environmental storytelling and cryptic dialogue, invites you to uncover meaning at your own pace.