In fearful anticipation of AMY

It seems zombie survival escort game AMY from French design studio Lexis Numérique has been widely panned since it’s release earlier this month on the game consoles, receiving a 2/10 score (“Painful” and “Horrifyingly bad”) from IGN despite their earlier anticipatory enthusiasm.

I am gutted, and I’m naively hoping that the PC release has been delayed in order to allow the developers to iron out at least a few of the worst gameplay stunting bugs reported.

I have been eagerly awaiting AMY’s release, as I love the premise. Zombie apocalypse games always appeal to my sense of doom, and this one sees you play the role of Lana, the custodian of an 8-year old autistic girl (Amy, as you may well guess) who for some reason appears to be immune to the infection causing the zombie outbreak. Importantly, her proximity to you also provides you with both a preventative and curative effect. Thus, you can only survive if you keep Amy safe, and keep her close.

When I first heard about the plans for the game, I was simultaneously excited and disappointed. Disappointed because of the premise’s eerie similarity to a game I’d been secretly plotting in the back of my mind ever since I mentioned to my friend Kerry that the only things I can think about these days are zombies and babies.

Amy is older than my imagined companion though, and while theoretically more useful in terms of puzzle solving, also more likely to run away and hide. My game would also have been significantly uglier (or do I just mean more retro-looking?), and more reliant on the physical and psychological effects of being away from your young baby. I’m sure any comparable review scores would be even lower too.

I’ll most likely still buy the game when it is eventually released on PC. And I’ll most likely end up agreeing with the bad reviews. You never know, terrible reviews and low expectations may end up the game’s saving grace. If it’s not utterly shit, I’ll be pleasantly surprised and might even enjoy it. The Pearl Harbor effect.

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