The Crush House lovingly satirizes the weird world of reality TV, and the result is a hilarious, if imperfect, thirst-person shooter.
Oh my God, did you catch the season finale of The Crush House? I totally did not expect Milo and Emile to hook up, but I’m here for it! I need to check their Instagrams to figure out if they’re still dating now. I just love that Gunther ended up alone, though. He’s such a freak. And Joyumi’s karaoke performance? So. Awkward. Who acts like that!?
If you’ve ever watched a reality TV show, you’re probably all too familiar with this kind of conversation. While the format became a phenomenon in the 2000s thanks to shows like Joe Millionaire and Survivor, it’s grown into an empire in the age of streaming services. Platforms like Netflix have capitalized on the sick appeal of reality TV by putting out trashy shows that raise the bar for what’s even ethical. It’s an infectious spectator sport that has a way of turning civilized people into proud brats.
With The Crush House, developer Nerial explores that dynamic in its unique reality TV simulator. Players aren’t just voyeurs who hate watching a slimy reality show; they need to satisfy those very people’s overbearing demands as the show’s sole cameraperson. It’s an ingenious concept delivered through hysterical writing and a one-of-a-kind first-person puzzle system. As sharp as it is, however, The Crush House’s limitations and at times disjointed gameplay show why it’s so difficult to truly replicate the complex appeal of trash TV.1999’s hottest simulation
In The Crush House, players take on the role of the sole producer on 1999’s hottest reality TV show. It’s your typical slice of slop: four hot strangers spend a week together in a Malibu mansion complete with a pool (there’s always a pool!). The goal is to film all the drama as it unfolds, selectively recording the simulated show from a first-person perspective, and capturing moments that fulfill the wishes of an eccentric audience that comments live via stream. It’s like being dropped into The Sims, as smooching and slap fights play out. The difference is that players aren’t gods controlling it all; they’re observers there to watch on like kids at a zoo.
The actual simulation aspect gets the job done to a point, but it can only go so far in what’s a sleeker representation of reality TV. At the start of each five-day season, players start by picking four singles from a list of characters, each one with their own traits. Each bachelor plays on a different trope. Joyumi is a rich “girlboss,” while Gunther is a loudmouth internet troll. Put them together and sparks are sure to fly. I easily found myself picking favorites and making enemies among the cast of well-written characters, replicating the harmless mean streak I acquire whenever I begin a new reality show.
A season of The Crush House occurs over five in-game days, during which characters shuffle around the mansion grounds and act out scenes. It’s an impressive system that makes the fictional Crush House feel like a real show at times. In my first season, I watch with glee as my cast members fight, make up, and smooch. The deeper I get, the more mechanical it begins to feel. Kissing and fighting are the primary verbs for any cast. Even if I’m casting the ultra-shy Milo, he’ll eventually get into a screaming match with another cast member and confidently hook up with someone else.
