Carnival’s Folk Horror Brings Venetian Dread and Unreliable Dreams to Point-and-Click

Why Carnival Just Jumped Onto My Radar

Folk horror has been quietly crushing it in indie games, and Carnival looks like it’s ready to join that lineage with a very specific vibe: the unnerving elegance of Venice’s masked traditions filtered through an unreliable mind. It’s a point-and-click adventure launching on Steam on August 25, 2025, with you playing journalist James Maynard, whose assignment covering a new bridge spirals into a dreamlike tangle of memory, ritual, and masked faces. The trailer caught my attention because it promises atmosphere-first horror with puzzles that (hopefully) don’t get in the way of the dread-and because narcolepsy as a narrative and mechanical device could be a brilliant way to justify reality slippage without resorting to cheap jump scares.

Key Takeaways

• Venetian folk horror plus point-and-click puzzles is a distinctive mix we don’t see often.
• Narcolepsy hints at perspective shifts and time-skips that could fuel inventive puzzle design.
• Success will hinge on modern adventure QoL (hotspot highlighting, smart hinting) and coherent dream logic.
• If the game avoids “moon logic” and uses Venice as more than wallpaper, this could be a sleeper hit for narrative fans.

Breaking Down the Announcement

On paper, Carnival is straightforward: a point-and-click folk horror, Steam launch on August 25, 2025. In practice, the premise has teeth. You’re James Maynard, a reporter in Venice to cover a bridge project, which is the perfect banal starting point for horror to seep in. The trailer leans into masked figures, ritual spaces, and liminal waterfronts, then twists the knife with James’ narcolepsy-short, involuntary descents into altered states that blur time and memory. That framing gives the team license to play with scene transitions, unreliable narration, and environmental shifts that would feel contrived in lesser games.

The art direction reads as deliberately restrained: muted palettes and stark composition rather than gore or spectacle. That’s promising. Think closer to Mundaun’s folk unease or The Excavation of Hob’s Barrow’s creeping dread than a bombastic haunted house. If the trailer is representative, Carnival wants to unsettle you with sound design, cultural ritual, and the uncanny blankness of masks-less “boo,” more “what am I actually looking at?”

The Real Story: How This Could Play

Narcolepsy is the wild card. If handled thoughtfully, it’s not just a story flourish; it’s a toolkit for puzzles. Imagine blackouts that reorder a scene, force you to navigate the same space across different times of day, or reveal hidden symbolism only visible in dream-states. Done right, it becomes the design glue—your “other sight” that turns the city’s masks, signage, and architecture into layered riddles. Done poorly, it’s just an excuse for random scene cuts and abstract fetch quests.

Point-and-click veterans will ask the practical questions. Will there be hotspot highlighting to avoid pixel-hunting? Contextual verbs instead of clunky verb lists? A smart hint system that nudges without spoiling? Nothing kills mood faster than scouring a cobblestone alley for a three-pixel coin. Carnival’s tone screams “no hand-holding,” but modern adventure design has learned that usability isn’t the enemy of immersion—it’s what lets the atmosphere breathe.

I’m also hoping the masks and rituals aren’t just aesthetic garnish. Venice’s Carnevale carries centuries of social theater: anonymity, inversion of roles, and coded etiquette. If the game ties that to mechanics—NPCs who behave differently depending on which mask you’re wearing, social puzzles where identity is currency—that’s where Carnival graduates from “moody indie” to “memorable system.” Dishonored’s masquerade mission showed how effective masks can be in level design; a slower, puzzle-first take could be potent.

Industry Context: Folk Horror’s Quiet Run

We’ve seen a real uptick in regional, ritual-driven horror over the last few years. Mundaun channeled Alpine folk terror with pencil-sketch art. The Excavation of Hob’s Barrow dug into English countryside myth. Bramble: The Mountain King weaponized Scandinavian fairy tales. Carnival’s Venetian focus taps a fresh cultural vein—one that games rarely explore beyond postcard chases in action titles. That alone makes it stand out in 2025’s indie slate, which is already crowded with sci-fi thrillers and cozy mysteries.

Timing-wise, late August is a savvy window: just before the big fall deluge hits, when story-driven players have time for a spooky, 6-10-hour experience. The question is discoverability. Trailers that promise “narrative depth” are a dime a dozen; games that deliver it with disciplined pacing and payoff are rare. If early impressions from adventure communities tout smart puzzle chaining and meaningful use of the narcolepsy conceit, word of mouth can carry this far.

What Gamers Need to Know Before Wishlisting

Platforms: Steam at launch. Consoles weren’t mentioned; if you’re a controller-first player, watch for confirmation of full controller support and readable UI at a sofa distance. Accessibility: audio and visual intensity can be tricky in horror; ideally, we’ll see subtitle options, adjustable motion effects, and a content note around sleep episodes and medical themes. Length and pricing are still under wraps. For adventure fans, the deciding factor will be whether Carnival respects your time: coherent puzzle logic, minimal backtracking, and environments that reward careful observation without devolving into scavenger hunts.

Bottom line from a player’s perspective: the pitch is strong and the setting is underused. If the developers weave Venice’s social theater into the mechanics and use narcolepsy as more than a mood board, Carnival could be one of those word-of-mouth indies that people recommend every spooky season. If it leans too hard on opaque puzzles and dream logic, it risks becoming a beautiful slog. I’m cautiously optimistic.

TL;DR

Carnival is a folk horror point-and-click set in Venice, launching August 25, 2025 on Steam. The masked rituals and narcolepsy premise could fuel clever, reality-bending puzzles—if modern adventure QoL and coherent dream logic make the cut. Keep it on your wishlist and watch for hands-on impressions.