Picture Cthulhu and his tentacled cohorts, dark and dreaming beneath the waves. H.P. Lovecraft s crooked astral vistas – wrought out of cosmic despair, fear of the unknown, and his racism – have saturated games for better and worse. As hypnotic as his nightmare visions are, the same tropes regurgitated at face value have become dry and tired. It s been done, and it s steeped in its author’s bigotry.
Which makes recently re-released text adventure Anchorhead a rare game: one that takes the mantle of Lovecraft and forms it into something more than the sum of its sticky, sprawling parts.