The idea of what happens beyond the current realm of life and existence is something that has been observed and questioned literally since we had the ability to do so. Without getting too into the weeds, we have theories, we have religions, we have dark guesses and we have wild beliefs, and all of them are valid. After all, you couldn’t get a game like Skaramazuzu without entertaining many of those concepts at once and still coming away with something all your own. So, in the sense of examining and positing one possibility for what could be after this brief candle goes out, Skaramazuzu is an interesting concept. However, in the sense of a game, I don’t think I could be more annoyed if I tried.

Let’s set the scene: you are a soul, or energy, or any kind of malleable life force that is currently between life and death. You are given consciousness, form, and a task: to unlock four doors and, in the process, discover what it means to be. You are then named Skaramazuzu, but opt instead for the nickname Zuzu because it’s easier to say. Zuzu, now in the form of an anthropomorphic elk-like being, sets off to interact with the denizens of this gothic-inspired limbo, learning about their wants and needs, their interests and memories, and all the inbetweens. Though the realm is small, it’s full of things to do and see, and Zuzu must see them all to discover their own answer of what it means to be.

Skaramazuzu is a 2D, hand-drawn exploration game that has a relatively small map and less action than your average 2D title. Zuzu can walk between rooms, talk to beings and things, and, on occasion, interact with the aforementioned objects. Most of the game consists of two ideas: talking and using parts in your inventory. Puzzle pieces naturally come into play, and a vast majority of the items you procure will either be given to an entity or be used to get something to give to an entity. There is no combat, no running, no jumping and nothing that is time sensitive, urgent or fraught with peril. Zuzu will, in time, find what they need, and you musn’t be worried about how it comes together: after all, it’s not like you can die.

There are some aspects of Skaramazuzu that I appreciate, though I understand they won’t jive with everyone. The biggest draw is the artwork itself, and the minimalist approach that also leans into concepts that entertain death, decay and an almost feudal aesthetic. I really enjoyed the way that Bleeding Moon Studio managed to keep all the characters in a similar wheelhouse in terms of angles and shape, but still kept them very distinct so that there was no confusion. Dragon the dog was one of my favorites, and I was quite entertained by the argument between Nobody and Bug. There’s a charm there that keeps everyone distinctly creepy, but also approachable and, dare I say, cute?

In terms of actual gameplay, Sakramazuzu is so cut and dry you can practically use it for paper mache. Walk around talking to everyone and interacting with everything. If you pay attention to what the characters say, then it’s significantly easier, but speeding through their dialogues will still keep you on the right path. Some people want something, and others want other things. As you put things together, more of the map will open up and you’ll find more things to get and more personalities to talk with. For example, a broken statue will stand, damaged and unassuming, until one NPC lets you know that’s where she buried a precious treasure long ago. Suddenly the broken statue is now selectable, and Zuzu can talk with it and look around to move the story forward.

The requirements for players to understand the game is quite minimal, so, in that aspect, this can be played by almost anyone. I gave the rundown to my daughter, who picked up the controller and walked around for me, trying to figure out where to get an object to hold fire while I went and had a nice walk around the park to clear my head. When I had gotten back, she still wasn’t sure where to go, which is when the first technical crack in the game showed: undefined boundaries.

Since a lot of the map for Skaramazuzu loops around, moving to different areas can sometimes lead to unclear directionality for where you can and cannot go. What looks like a waterfall you can walk through is just a waterfall you can look at. What appears to be an obvious end of the screen is actually a point where you can keep walking to find a Ghost and a brazier, which was what my daughter was seeking. The stylized nature of the game means sometimes leaving players scratching their heads, not because it’s difficult or complex, but because it’s occasionally obtuse in how the landscape unfolds.

Tragically, the major nuisance for Skaramazuzu was not the game itself, but the sound design. There is no music to speak of, which isn’t a problem: in fact, that certainly adds to the limbo-esque nature of the realm where Zuzu is spawned. I wouldn’t expect a bombastic score to underline the liminal space between life and death, so no worries there. However, Zuzu appears to suffer from the common condition of “being wildly uncomfortable with silence,” which results in endless, often pointless yammering and exposition for every single conversation and interaction. Which means you are subjected to an overwhelming amount of “voice sounds” where Zuzu basically does a twittering symphony of Animal Crossing adjacent fake speech for an unacceptably long time.

And it’s not just Zuzu: every character has their own voices, which is a credit to the developers for making the game stand out and be unique. But that means there is even more sound garbage being pelted at you in a world where over 70% of what you’re doing is talking to living things and nonliving things. It gets incredibly grating, and muting the volume only solves a fraction of the problem. When you know that any and all attempts to move the game forward will result in a long diatribe that’s somewhere between a curious six year old and one of Dustin Hoffman’s more famous roles, you become reluctant to keep playing because it’s draining on a mental level.

Perhaps that’s one of the grand takeaways from Sakramazuzu: there are many questions that both the living and the dead harbor about the Great Beyond. In a tale about existence and meaning with its own quirky styling and approach, it’s natural that we all find something that sits uncomfortably in our own minds. It could be that I, myself, am beset with an awkward position when a conversation lulls and thus need to talk, and I see that reflected in Zuzu and am unhappy with that lens. Or, perhaps, I just need a game to do something other than talk AT me in the middle of trying to discover a bigger purpose. In either case, Skaramazuzu is certainly unique, but I don’t think I would ever venture back to this particular world under any circumstance.

Graphics: 7.5 While very flat in terms of color, the monochromatic approach makes the flashes of red really pop, and the hand-drawn creations stand out. It’s visually fascinating to invest your time in, and I quite enjoyed the unity across all the different characters and places.	Gameplay: 4.0 Walk and talk. Talk and walk. See that thing? Talk to it. No response? Try to Interact with it. No success? Go walk to another thing and Talk and Interact with it instead. Keep track of some things, and be prepared to walk back and Talk and Interact with something again. Repeat until Universe reveals mysteries of life.
Sound: 1.0 Zibibibizubibibi? HOO, HAHOHOHOFEFEHAHEOFU. Ziii, bibibizizuzizibibi. That. That for like a few hours.	Fun Factor: 4.0 It’s different, but so is putting ketchup on vanilla ice cream. I just never fully gelled after the game began, and Skaramazuzu couldn’t give me enough reasons to want to keep going beyond my own limits of patience.
Final Verdict: 4.5

Skaramazuzu is available now on Steam and Itch.io.

Reviewed on PC.

A copy of Skaramazuzu was provided by the publisher.