Neon Dread: A Classic Survival Horror Homage in Sorry We’re Closed

XPN Network
5 days ago
5 min read

I first got to try Sorry We're Closed back in London at WASD and it was one of the highlights of the whole event for me! Not just because it oozed nostalgia in its fixed camera angles and old school Playstation retro style graphics, but because the devs went up and beyond including cosplaying as the games character as well! So finally getting to sit down and play the game in full was fantastic!

Sorry We’re Closed opens with a jolt of neon-soaked dread that immediately appeals to anyone who cut their teeth on the tank controls and fixed camera angles of early survival horror. You step into the shoes of Michelle, an unsuspecting London shop assistant who awakens to find herself bound by a demonic curse delivered by the enigmatic Duchess. With only three nights to uncover the secrets that can lift the curse, each moment bristles with tension, as familiar gameplay tropes from the genre’s heyday are reborn through a glossy, modern lens.

From the moment you wander through the daytime hub, a claustrophobic block of flats and corner shops rendered in moody, flickering light, you feel the weight of classic titles like Resident Evil and Silent Hill pressing on your shoulders. The city’s neon signage bleeds into your vision, while the crackle of overhead power lines and distant sirens underscore a sense of unease. Dialogue with characters such as the haunted Darrel or the cryptic Robyn feels impactful rather than perfunctory, and the branching conversations you choose can echo into multiple endings.

Venture into the demon-infested “dungeons” each night, and you’ll immediately recognize the pattern: narrow corridors, sudden cackles from the darkness, and puzzles that demand a shift in perspective. Your Third Eye ability allows you to flip between mundane reality and a twisted, mirror world where hidden switches, shattered mirrors, and spectral pathways reveal themselves. Though the puzzles never stretch your ingenuity to its breaking point, they provide just enough brain-teasing pause between encounters to keep your heart rate from flatlining.

Combat in Sorry We’re Closed marries the deliberate pace of classic survival shooters with a dash of modern spectacle. You stalk demons in overlit rooms, knowing that once you lock into that immobilized first-person view, retreat is impossible until the shot is fired. Every bullet counts, finding ammunition means scouring every drawer and back alley, and health supplies feel as precious as typewriter ribbons in the old days. Mastering the Third Eye stun to expose weak points becomes a thrilling dance of risk and reward, building combos that culminate in a single, cinematic “Heartbreaker” blast when you most need it.

Combat arenas are tight, think Resident Evil’s claustrophobic corridors which makes sure every misstep echo. You’ll find yourself pausing between fights to catch your breath, mop sweat from your brow, and maybe flirt with the idea of running past a weaker horde instead of facing them head-on. The soundtrack also drops to a low drone during skirmishes, amplifying each grunt and metal clang.

Visually, Sorry We’re Closed wears its PSone inspiration on its sleeve with blocky geometry and grainy textures that feel both nostalgic and unsettling. A muted palette of grays and browns gets sliced by harsh neon pinks and electric blues, all running through a VHS-style filter that recalls crouching behind a static-laced TV in Silent Hill. Character models favor angular silhouettes and exaggerated shadows under flickering lights, conjuring memories of Jill Valentine’s stiff posture or Harry Mason’s jittery animations. Occasional texture pop-ins and brief framerate dips aren’t flaws so much as authentic quirks, each hitch reminding you that you’re trapped in a world on the brink of collapse, just as PSone horrors taught us to expect the unexpected.

What truly sets this game apart, however, is its narrative ambition. Beneath the gore and gadgetry lies a surprisingly intimate story about longing and loss. Michelle’s interactions with a jaded demon dancer seeking vengeance or an angel torn between mortal love and divine duty peel back layers of grief and desire. Even the presence of Michelle’s ex-girlfriend haunting both her dreams and the twisted realms which grounds the supernatural elements in raw, human emotion. Each choice nudges you toward one of several endings, and the promise of replayability doesn’t feel like a mere checklist of trophies but an invitation to explore the fragility of life and love.

Despite its many charms, Sorry We’re Closed isn’t immune to the occasional stumble. When demons begin to swarm in succession, the carefully cultivated fear can snap into frustration. The simplicity of some puzzles may leave veterans yearning for more diabolical riddles, and at times a fixed camera angle will obscure a fleeing enemy or a vital clue, resulting in a sting of unfair damage. Yet these moments feel less like design flaws and more like deliberate challenges and part of the uneasy bargain between player and game in a genre that demands both courage and caution.

Pros

Captures that authentic survival-horror vibe with fixed cameras and tank controls, instantly transporting you back to the PS1/PS2 era.
Third Eye mechanic feels fresh, flipping between reality and nightmare in a way that deepens both puzzles and atmosphere.
Neon-tinged visuals and crackling ambient audio combine gothic dread with modern flair, giving London’s backstreets an otherworldly edge.
Story hits emotional beats you don’t expect in a horror game—branching dialogue and character moments that stick with you long after the credits roll.
Ammo scarcity and limited healing create real tension, forcing you to weigh every bullet and health kit like a precious resource.
Accessibility options (aim assist, New Game+, adjustable difficulty) mean both horror purists and newcomers can tailor the experience.

Cons

Enemy swarms can feel overwhelming, turning tense encounters into frustrating grind sessions.
Puzzles stay on the simpler side, which might leave veteran horror fans craving more elaborate brain-teasers.
Fixed cameras occasionally hide important cues or let demons land cheap hits, breaking immersion.
Inventory juggling can become a bit tedious, especially when you’re back-tracking to stash or retrieve supplies.
Three-night structure, while focused, may feel too short for players hoping for a more sprawling adventure.

In the end, Sorry We’re Closed stands as a brilliant blend of homage and originality. It never fakes being a triple-A behemoth, but it also refuses to be yet another indie riff on abandoned mansions. Instead, it carves its own niche amid London backstreets and demon courts, offering an experience that both honours and expands the survival horror tradition. For anyone craving that familiar rush of vulnerability, limited resources, and creeping dread, yet eager for fresh characters and unexpected emotional depth, this three-night nightmare is a masterclass in what modern indie horror can achieve.

XPN Rating: 4 out of 5 (GOLD)