If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to walk the fine line between cleaning service and private investigator, This Bed We Made offers a compelling answer. This narrative-driven murder mystery game blends noir drama with the art of snooping, inviting you to explore the unsettling secrets of the Clarington Hotel.
And trust me, these aren’t the kind of skeletons you find in a cleaning closet – unless closets now hold murder plots, ominous photos, and guests with far too many secrets.
Welcome to the Clarington, Where Trouble Checks In
Set in 1958 Montreal, the Clarington Hotel is less a luxury getaway and more Hitchcockian nightmare fuel. Your protagonist, Sophie, isn’t just fluffing pillows; she’s rifling through guests’ belongings and unravelling a web of secrets.
The story starts with a tried-and-true trope: Sophie recounting events from an interrogation room. From there, you’re plunged into her memories, where every drawer opens, and every creaky floorboard threatens to expose her or worse.
Everything starts when Sophie is cleaning a room, only to stumble upon a darkroom erected in the bathroom by a guest. What’s really weird is the subject of the photos developing in the room, Sophie.
And so the game kicks off with a blend of detective work, ethical dilemmas, and noir-tinged drama. It’s less about dusting lamps and more about figuring out why the guests at the Clarington make Norman Bates look like a model tenant.
A Guide to Snoopery
This Bed We Made has you doing much more than cleaning mirrors (though you can and should clean mirrors). Your real job? Snooping. Each room you clean is a treasure trove of clues; from love letters to ominous photos and every choice you make, to pocket evidence, destroy it, or share it, has consequences.
But it’s not all cloak-and-dagger. Sophie’s interactions with coworkers Beth and Andrew add warmth and levity. Beth, the snarky receptionist, is the perfect partner for office gossip, while Andrew’s earnestness gives the game its emotional core.
Your choices shape these relationships, making you feel the weight of your decisions… especially when they come back to haunt you.
This game’s atmosphere and cinematic art style are its strongest suits. It’s Gone Home with a splash of Hitchcock. Every shadow feels menacing, and every French tune on the radio feels sinister.
The writing deserves special praise: each letter, note, and memento is a tiny story bursting with humour, heartbreak, or malice. And while snooping might seem repetitive, the narrative tension keeps you hooked.
Endgame Blues
Despite all its strengths, the ending of This Bed We Made is a significant letdown. After hours of piecing together clues and unravelling secrets, the resolution feels rushed, as if the developers ran out of steam. Sure, the journey is satisfying, but the destination? Not so much.
To be fair, the game’s short runtime (3-4 hours) invites replayability, as do the multiple endings, with subsequent playthroughs revealing new angles. But some threads feel too loose, leaving you yearning for more closure.