Meh, this place is ain’t bad
I Hate This Place was really a game that came out of nowhere for me. At first glance, it looks like another stylized survival-horror experience trying to stand out with bold visuals and eerie vibes. A few hours in, though, it becomes clear that this is something a little more deliberate, a little more thoughtful and thankfully a lot more fun than its blunt title might suggest.
Based on the Skybound comic series of the same name, I Hate This Place drops players into a hostile wilderness that feels alive in all the worst ways. You play as Elena, who quickly learns that the land she’s stepped into does not care whether she survives. From shadowy creatures stalking you at night to the constant pressure of managing resources, the game wastes little time establishing that this is a place where preparation matters and mistakes linger.
MSRP: $29.99
Platforms: Xbox (reviewed), PlayStation, Switch, PC
Price I’d Pay: $24.99
What immediately grabbed me was the art style. The game leans hard into a comic-book aesthetic, with thick outlines, stark colors, and a hand-drawn look that feels ripped straight from the page. It’s not just a visual gimmick either; it gives the world a distinct personality. Forests feel oppressive, cabins feel claustrophobic, and open fields somehow feel more dangerous than comforting. On Xbox Series X, the game runs smoothly and the visual presentation holds up well, especially when lighting effects and shadows come into play at night. There’s a real sense of dread when the sun starts to dip and you realize you’re not quite ready for what’s coming.
Gameplay-wise, I Hate This Place sits comfortably in the survival-horror space but avoids leaning too heavily on cheap scares. Exploration, crafting, and combat are all tightly intertwined. You’re constantly scavenging for supplies, upgrading your gear, and deciding whether a fight is worth the risk. Combat itself is intentionally a bit clunky, and I mean that as a compliment. Elena is not trained killer, just a girl who has gotten in over her head with some supernatural going-ons.
One of the more interesting mechanics is how the game handles enemies, particularly at night. Darkness isn’t just a visual change; it fundamentally alters how you play. Certain creatures become more aggressive, and venturing out unprepared can quickly spiral into disaster. This creates a great push-and-pull between exploration and safety. Do you risk one more run into the woods for supplies, or do you hunker down and hope you’ve done enough to survive the night? That tension is where I Hate This Place is at its best.
That said, the game isn’t without its rough edges. Combat, while intentionally awkward, can occasionally tip over into frustration. Enemy hit detection isn’t always consistent, and there were moments where I felt like I took damage unfairly. It doesn’t happen often enough to make me hate this place (see what I did there haha) but when it does, it stands out. Similarly, inventory management can feel a bit restrictive early on. I understand the design choice, but there were times when I felt like I was fighting menus as much as monsters.
The narrative is another area that might divide players. The story is deliberately understated, delivered through environmental details, brief interactions, and a general sense of unease rather than heavy exposition. I appreciated this approach, as it fits the tone of the game perfectly, but players looking for a more traditional, story-driven experience might find it a bit too vague. The connection to the comic is there, but you don’t need to be familiar with the source material to enjoy what’s here.
Sound design deserves a shout-out as well. The audio work does a fantastic job of reinforcing the atmosphere. Subtle environmental noises, distant growls, and the oppressive silence that settles in at night all contribute to the sense that you’re never truly safe. The music knows when to step back and when to push the tension forward, and it rarely overplays its hand.
Where I Hate This Place really shines is in its commitment to tone. Everything, from the visuals to the mechanics, works together to sell the idea that this world is hostile and unforgiving. It doesn’t try to be overly flashy or constantly escalate the stakes. Instead, it trusts its systems and atmosphere to do the heavy lifting, and for the most part, that trust pays off.
Still, the game could benefit from a bit more variety as it goes on. While the core loop is solid, some locations and encounters start to feel familiar after extended play sessions. A few more enemy types or environmental twists would have helped keep things feeling fresh all the way through. It’s not a deal-breaker, but it does keep the game from reaching its full potential.
In the end, I Hate This Place is a strong survival-horror experience that knows exactly what it wants to be. It’s tense, stylish, and unapologetically hostile, but it’s also fair more often than not. The rough spots are noticeable, but they don’t overshadow the game’s strengths. If you enjoy survival-focused gameplay, atmospheric horror, and a visual style that stands out from the crowd, this is absolutely worth your time.
Review copy of game provided by publisher.
