Dahlia View

My first instinct when I loaded Dahlia View was to slow down, which is not something I say about many games. White Paper Games plants you in Robert Conway's flat, second floor, overlooking a cluster of neighbours who all have something to hide, and the entire opening act is just watching. That deliberate, almost voyeuristic setup is the game's best idea, and it pays off in a way that a faster-paced adventure never could. Conway himself is a retired private investigator, wheelchair-bound, scruffy, and prickly in a way that feels genuinely authored rather than incidental. When 8-year-old Charlotte May goes missing from the house opposite, he decides the police, including his own daughter Catherine, cannot be trusted to move fast enough. The father-daughter friction that unfolds across the game's five chapters is quietly one of the better relationship arcs White Paper Games has written, giving emotional stakes to what could easily have been a sterile whodunnit. The ensemble of suspects, from landlord Harold Levy to pub landlady Shirley Downes to the married McKees, leans on familiar mystery archetypes, but the period detail of 1954 northern England gives them texture. Letters, newspaper clippings, and period objects fill out the world in a way that feels researched rather than dressed up. In terms of mechanics, Dahlia View sits somewhere between classic point-and-click adventure and observational thriller. From Conway's window you watch neighbours, reading body language and filing deductions in a notepad. Down on the ground, you collect items, use them on other items, and solve combination locks and environmental puzzles to open new areas. A lockpick minigame turns up repeatedly and is one of the game's more tactile pleasures, though reviewers noted it had keyboard-and-mouse reliability issues at launch. Post-release patches addressed a long list of bugs, added a new introductory scene for Charlotte May, and refined Conway's wheelchair movement, so the build you are playing today is considerably more polished than what shipped in November 2021. The puzzle design sits on the accessible end of the spectrum; the game is more interested in tension and atmosphere than in stumping you, which will frustrate hardcore adventure fans but suits the cinematic pacing well. The honesty check: the game is not without its problems. The transition into the final act feels paced unevenly, with a neighbourhood gathering scene that lands awkwardly before the genuinely strong ending takes over. Conway himself can feel like an obstacle rather than an avatar, stumbling through evidence with a conviction that does not always match what you as the player have actually deduced. And the camera, fixed at cinematic angles reminiscent of early Resident Evil or Heavy Rain, occasionally fights you when navigating tight spaces. None of this breaks the experience, but players expecting tight investigative logic in the mould of Return of the Obra Dinn should recalibrate expectations. This is mood, voice acting, and atmosphere first; puzzle challenge second. For the right player, though, Dahlia View lands with quiet force. The voice performances are excellent across the board, the 1950s aesthetic is handled with real care, and the ending resolves the mystery in a way that feels earned and genuinely unsettling. White Paper Games makes small games about specific feelings, and the feeling here, the creeping dread of a quiet street that hides something unforgivable, is one they nail. At roughly ten hours, it also knows when to stop, which is rarer than it should be.

Kai · Scout Team

Indie & narrative

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