The grass is long and whispers in such a relaxing way. The colours are beautiful and vibrant, like a late summer afternoon. It also feels like a painting because it's so ideal and picturesque. It doesn't look hand-painted, per se, but you can see the individual brushstrokes. It's got a slight painterly feel to it, too. I mean, Summertime Madness does eventually get a bit more, I dunno, psychological, I guess? But sheesh, I'd hang around that sunny starting area forever.

Every time you manage to reach, and ring, a ship's bell, a new area of it springs into existence. I need that time, dammit! The first area is a little boat that unfolds like a puzzlebox and becomes a sort of luxury boat crossed with a treehouse. It works well with the theme because you inevitably start getting frantic at the time it takes to run between them and figure it all out. Many of the puzzles involve levers and switches, opening the right doors or moving the right bits around in the right sequence. That's a worse ROI than being in a relationship with me, hey-oh! At any time you can look at a large, old pocket watch to check how much time you have left and ask for a little wink-wink nudge-nudge in the right direction - but every hint costs you 15 precious minutes. The time limit angle is really cool, and Summertime Madness builds it further into your adventure by linking it to the hint system. Made by Italian studio DP Games, there's a lot to like about Summertime Madness beside my personal glee at the trapped in a painting mini-trope. He gets to live in one of his nice paintings for six hours - but if he doesn't get out before midnight, he's trapped forever. Surprise! It exists, and it's called Summertime Madness, a first-person puzzle game where a sad artist living in 1940s Prague makes a deal with the devil.

So imagine a game that is basically entirely that. It also reminded me of the bit at the start of terrifying children's tale The Witches by Roald Dahl, where a little girl gets trapped inside a painting in her family's house, where they watch her grow old and eventually die. In A Brush With Death, you see, you go after an artist who has become trapped in his own painting. I'm glad I got a copy all for myself, though, because one of the most memorable quests I found in it was called A Brush With Death, partly because the name is a very funny, low effort pun. I saw my mate playing Oblivion at his house and alas, etiquette dictated that I could not simply steal it. The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion was one of the first games I bought for myself rather than playing whatever my older brother brought home.

Oblivion low poly grass