The Crush House
Review
Casting call
by Jordan Helsley
reviewed on PC
More Intriguing Than The Real Thing, But Possibly Just As Shallow
I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy trash TV. My wife and I make a weekly tradition out of these reality shows that allow us to 'people watch' some of the most polarizing personalities imaginable. I cannot deny the enticing nature of it, but there's absolutely a standard we uphold. The Crush House aims to replicate that experience, at least in part, by putting you in the shoes of Jae, the singular producer of a mid-tier 90's reality show, viewing the experience of four strangers through your viewfinder. And just as in real life, there is more to this house than the audience can see.
Building Your Cast
After you're briefly introduced to your new home, you get the chance to pick "this season's" cast member from a list of 12 prospective stars. You will accompany them through the season of the show, which lasts 5 days. Each of these characters has their own descriptor, along with their likes and dislikes, so I played more of a chaos-bringer than a matchmaker. Of course I'm going to throw the guy who loves chatting about conspiracy theories with the "scary gym chick," the girl who hates "cold hard facts," and the guy who likes Ska. What could go wrong?
Each character has a profile photo, of sorts, to accompany this information, which ends up giving you a false sense of who they can really be. There appear to be no sexual orientation rules here, likely because that makes for better reality television. Their (Sims-style) speaking interactions with each other seem to fall somewhere between scripted and entirely organic, with two cast members being enemies in one playthrough, and friends in the next. It doesn’t feel like true emergent storytelling, but mostly it felt fresh. I ran into the occasional repeated fight/conversation over several seasons and cast combinations, but the experience is so much more than those dialogue bits, so I didn’t mind.
Welcome to the Crush House
The titular Crush House is a neon infused Malibu-style mansion with nothing but the most basic amenities for your new, single subjects. Full size kitchen, lounge with a massive fishless aquarium, outdoor pool, you name it. The cast will interact with each other and the environment as they see fit, leaving you as a true bystander. You can eventually purchase things for the house that can guide the cast to do certain things. The giant fighting statue I installed definitely caused them to fight more in front of it, and one cast member was thrilled when I bought the saxophone.
Make no mistake, this isn't a serious experience. Each member of the cast shows up in a giant elevator that comes out of the pool, the viewers comment in real-time on the side of your screen like it's a live stream, and your reward for a job well done from the big-wigs is, well, pizza. There's a fair amount of humour from these elements, though the boss chiming in on your walkie-talkie seems suspiciously glib. You'll immerse yourself in this house, with these people each day, until you all retire to your bedrooms, curiously placed in the building's basement.
Between The Edits
From the moment you start, this vibrant space has a somewhat malevolent feeling. When you first step out of the busted elevator that leads you to your cot in the basement, you'll see a trail of dirty footprints leading down the dingy hall. The walkie-talkie chimes, "the last producer didn't work out." A poster greets you with your only two rules: DO NOT SPEAK TO THE TALENT and THE AUDIENCE IS ALWAYS RIGHT. Your living quarters are just as grungy, all highlighting the disparity between well-produced fake lives and the authentic story behind the camera. It's a well-made facade, though, as the house itself shows no cracks in the glamour. Believe me, I looked.
As you may have guessed, you'll be talking to the talent. It becomes another intriguing aspect of the gameplay, actually. Under cover of night, with your camera safely stowed away, one of them will have a request for you. These usually involve filming a certain way or capturing certain moments: little extra challenges to completing your daily goals. These little shake-ups to the formula would have been enough, but it goes further still. You've got to do your job before you can unlock this mystery, though.
Capturing The Audience
Your day-to-day activities comprise much more than watching four strangers. There's no challenge in that. Each day, you'll have certain audience types that are watching, from plumbers to film students to nursing home residents. There's a ton of these, at least 30, so discovering them and what they like to watch is its own reward/challenge loop. They'll drop often puzzling comments in the chat about what they would like to see (they each have four specific interests, or "thirsts" to quench), and it's your job to make the deduction and deliver. I found it satisfying to set up shots to satisfy as many as possible, and the game responds in kind when you've got a good one, with audience "likes" increasing at a higher rate across the board. Your primary goal is to fill up a certain number of audience meters a day, however many the studio is requesting to be satisfied, or risk cancellation of the show. It really asks you to be the best Quentin Tarantino (or other director of your choice) you can be. If you cannot hit your target just one day, you're fired and the Failure Elevator awaits. Fortunately, you can retry the day, so the penalty is far from harsh. I didn't find the game difficult, but the balancing act takes some fine-tuning.
Maximizing your efficiency to satisfy audiences is the aim. Purchasing particular items is the only way to meet some conditions. Others need a certain background music. Some are much more obscure, and stump me to this day. And when you're not filming, when your camera is down, you'll automatically play from several suitably goofy ads. This is how you make your money: for each less than ten second ad that plays, you'll get a bit of money. If you play one that one of your audience groups likes, well, you'll get a little more. You're not prompted to keep a particular balance between filming and not, so the sooner you finish satisfying your audiences, the sooner you can just let the advertisements bring in money for you and trinkets for the home. Gaming this mechanical balance was a delight, and because there's likewise dozens of ads you're unlocking over time, it's sometimes nice to kick back and watch the parodies they've crafted there.
Under The House
Somewhere along your journey, you'll get contacted by a mysterious voice saying they've seen you interacting with the cast. This happened to me right as I was questioning whether the repeated interactions I had seen would push me away from this experience, and it couldn't have come at a better time. With this additional layer to the entire gameplay loop involved, The Crush House feels complete. This mysterious voice tasks you with helping the cast to learn more, just in case you thought you were going to play by the rules.
This additional element, of course, doesn't stop the repeated moments, but it makes them more bearable. The drive to see this story to the end sits atop the desire to discover and complete each audience's requirements and fully outfitting your mansion with all the trinkets. Without this story element, I'm not so sure the collection aspect would have been strong enough to sustain the game.
Returning For Season 2
Upon completion of your season, and receipt of your corporate-approved reward, you'll roll right into the next, picking a new cast from the same selection and moving forward with your unlocks in tow. Your boss greets you in the elevator as before, completely ignoring the fact that this is your second season of production, just as a man-in-charge does to the underlings. The cycle begins again. Worse, though, the cast doesn't seem to know that they're returning, either. Certainly there would be a limit to the unique interactions as you approach playing a half-dozen or more seasons, but zero carry over of relationships for these characters and their stories feels like a missed opportunity. Sadly, after a few play throughs of unique casting choices, the list of choices feels small after a while, a feeling exacerbated by "unique moments" revealing themselves to be anything but.
The Crush House does a great job of taking a relatively simple premise and expanding it with game mechanics that are fun to engage with. I was a little let down by two completely unique pairs of characters having the same argument in back-to-back seasons, and other repeated moments, but the goals on the periphery really drove me forward. I found characters I wanted to help, and some I wanted to outright reject, until the story behind the scenes forced my hand in my quest for answers. It strikes an outstanding balance between cheeky humour, vibrant scenery, challenging puzzles, and a seedy underbelly. Whether you hold reverence for the genre they're parodying or not, The Crush House delivers a well-crafted and fully realized gamification of America's least favorite TV shows, silliness and all.
As always, follow Hooked Gamers on Instagram for news updates, reviews, competitions and more.
9.0
fun score
Pros
Engaging gameplay loop with a charming style and humour that doesn't try too hard.
Cons
While finishing the story, the options for variety can feel limiting, and the limit of unique interactions becomes apparent.
