Silly Polly Beast, developed by Andrei Chernyshov and published by Top Hat Studios for PS5, throws players into a grotesque, dreamlike underworld in which a mute orphan named Polly must survive a pact she no longer remembers making. The premise favours atmosphere over exposition: fog-choked streets, a blood-tinged fog bracelet mechanic that signals danger, and a sense of moral muddiness that keeps the story feeling less like a checklist of plot beats and more like a slow, nervous plunge into trauma. The narrative keeps key details elliptical, which creates haunting moments of discovery but also occasionally leaves emotional throughlines faint where a touch more grounding might have strengthened the player’s investment.
Mechanically, the game is restless in a productive way – its design continually shifts perspective and tone, folding side-scrolling passages, top-down combat arenas, and claustrophobic corridor sequences into a single experience. The mixing of genres feels intentionally disorienting, designed to echo Polly’s fractured perception: sudden changes in camera and control scheme amplify tension and force constant adaptation from the player. That ambition yields exhilarating variety, but the seams between modes can be rough; transitions sometimes read as abrupt rather than artful, and a handful of gameplay systems fail to reach mechanical maturity, which can undercut the sense of flow.
Combat places the player in frequent high-stakes exchanges that prize timing, resource management, and aggressive positioning. Polly’s toolkit – a makeshift skateboard for melee, a handful of firearms with limited ammo, and a set of forbidden spells – encourages a hybrid approach of close and mid-range engagement, but the balance skews toward scarcity. Encounters often demand perfect dodges and strict stamina economy, which can create tense, cinematic encounters but also sudden spikes in frustration when resources ebb and checkpoints place the player immediately before another gauntlet. The controls on PS5 are serviceable overall, though some inputs require unnervingly tight windows that feel at odds with the game’s more exploratory beats.
Visually, Silly Polly Beast is a triumph of stylized horror – inked silhouettes, serrated lines and a limited palette (often using blood reds and deep blacks) craft a living comic of dread that is both grotesque and striking. Environmental set-pieces and creature designs lean into caricatured menace, turning otherwise mundane objects into uncanny hazards, and the camera work accentuates that warped perspective to strong effect. The audio design doubles down on mood: industrial percussion, low-end rumble, and sudden, piercing stings punctuate exploration and combat, turning many otherwise routine rooms into nerve-wracking spaces. On PS5 the presentation reads clearly and intentionally, with lighting and texture choices that support the game’s tone without distracting from gameplay.
Pacing and progression represent the project’s most uneven territory. The absence of a deep upgrade or customization system makes Polly’s growth feel more incremental than transformative, which can undercut the sense of power fantasy that the combat sometimes teases. Interludes that introduce stealth, puzzles or skateboard-based minigames can refresh the loop, yet they also fragment momentum when not tightly integrated with core systems. Autosave and checkpoint placement usually spare long retraces, but there are notable moments where save positioning and scarce consumables make restarts feel punitive rather than helpful.
Taken as a whole, Silly Polly Beast is an arresting indie title that rewards players who want atmosphere-first design, unpredictable mechanical shifts, and a world unafraid to be ugly and strange. The game’s aesthetic confidence, inventive perspective changes, and visceral audio create memorable sequences that linger after play, while balance issues and occasional mechanical bluntness keep it from feeling polished in every moment. For PS5 players who prize daring artistic identity and don’t mind wrangling a few frustrating systems in return, this is a trip worth taking; players seeking a consistently smooth difficulty curve or a deep, conventional progression roadmap may find the design choices here harder to accept.
Score: 7.5/10
Press Play Media 