Resident Evil meets BioShock in a survival horror FPS that would be cringe if it wasn't so damn metal

The player looks at their ornate hands gun with a blood-red chamber in Crisol: Theater of Idols — (Image credit: Blumhouse Games)

Crisol: Theatre of Idols makes me bleed for every bullet. I wince each time Gabriel – devout cultist, soldier of the Sun God, etc. – squeezes the spiked grip of his pistol, blood pouring out from his palm and filling the chamber with a red-orange fluid that splutters like lava. If that's not hardcore enough for you, the dude literally exsanguinates corpses to replenish his own vitality – and once drained, they simply melt away.

Usually, it's hard for even the best survival horror games to gross me out. But as Gabriel's melodramatic cries ring out in this nightmarish rendition of Spain where religious imagery comes to life, using blood for bullets is one of the lesser oddities. The result? Crisol is shaping up to be the survival horror telenovela I didn't know I needed. Think Resident Evil Village, but with a Lies of P-meets-BioShock aesthetic. Exactly.

Raise your horns

A screenshot shows mannequin enemies in Crisol: Theater of Idols — (Image credit: Vermila Studios)

Blood and sacrament

Key art for Crisol: Theater of Idols showing a religious looking figure with a gnarly metal body framed by candles and other gothic iconography — (Image credit: Blumhouse Games)

Crisol: Theater of Idols review – "Largely fails as a horror and struggles as a shooter, but stands solidly as a curiosity that follows its own rules."

Soldier Gabriel's holy mission on the island of Tormentosa is simple: collect the blood of four important people to re-seal the Sea God's cathedral-like prison, acting on behalf of the mighty Sun God he serves. Drama! Tension! Intrigue!

But what's this? Gabriel dies about five minutes into the game, before getting a sound telling-off and being promptly resurrected. To prevent a repeat visit from the grim reaper, the Sun God grants him a gift. Gabriel now has his deity's ichor flowing through his veins, and it makes for a useful defensive or offensive tool, depending how you use it. More drama! Tension! Intrigue!

Blood as weaponry isn't a novel concept in video games, but it can be a very fun one. Think of Dr Johnathan Reid's vampiric abilities in Vampyr, or those of Phyre in Bloodlines 2 for a more recent – albeit poorly executed – example. The difference between the two is how much one believes its shtick over the other. Sanguimancy is only as cool as how far a developer commits to the bit, and I'm relieved that Vermilla Studios fully leans in.

The cultist fantasy painted by Crisol: Theater of Idols drips from every pore. The name itself is a hint; Gabriel's world is a pantomime run by cruel gods and their crueller lackeys, with idolatry and towering places of worship revered above all else. It's a fairly medieval mindset, not to mention one that heavily riffs off themes of Catholic guilt, but the world itself appears a little more modern.

Holy ghosts

A fortune teller in a candle-lit room in Crisol: Theater of Idols smokes — (Image credit: Blumhouse Games)

It's off-putting but never distracting, because the whole thing is a heavy metal fever dream

There are proper guns, for one, even if Gabriel's steampunk-wet-dream pistol is powered by the blessed blood of the Sun God. There's even electricity (mind the electrified water puddles, kids). I'm also treated to a lot of Victorian Gothic imagery and set pieces, with abandoned carriages, ornate candlelit townhouses, and eerie wooden puppets reminding me of Lies of P's fictionalized Belle Epoque setting.

It's hard to know when exactly Crisol is supposed to be taking place, but that feels fully intentional. This is a world where clotted blood is as good as a magnum round, and despite sacrificing the ammo scarcity intrinsic to the best Resident Evil games to pull it off, Crisol expertly plays into a similar B-movie fiction; suspend your disbelief, and give yourself over the wacky wiles of a game developer.

The result is a truly non-temporal experience. Most of my time is spent skulking through the shadows, sharpening my blood-knife on a motorbike (again, hardcore as hell), blasting statues to kingdom come, or melting pigs and chickens to replenish each and every chamber refill. Other times, I'm rolling my eyes at some of the poorer voice acting choices in the game.

Sharpening a knife at a whetstone in Crisol: Theater of Idols — (Image credit: Blumhouse Games)

Ordinarily, I'm very put off by cringe-inducing acting in a video game. But Gabriel's comical machismo and fellow cultist Medodia's overplayed anime girl sweetness somehow feed into the overall vision. It's off-putting but never distracting, because the whole thing is a heavy metal fever dream of epic proportions. The town is called Tormentosa, for goodness' sake. I wasn't expecting subtlety.

I'll admit I've only played through the prologue, but consider me impressed by how Crisol puts novelty touches on such a well-worn genre. Tying blood and ammo together at the expense of one another is a clever, if slightly mean catch – though from what I've read about the much higher blood price attached to machinegun, shotgun, and sniper rifle refills further down the line, I think I'm in for a nasty hand-stabby surprise.

It's rare to find a game that feels both fresh in its approach and uniquely 2010s, but somehow, Crisol: Theater of Idols is also a feast for gimmick lovers everywhere. Or, at the very least, a fun way to warm up your trigger finger for Resident Evil Requiem ahead of its launch in just a few weeks!

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