This year’s surprise hitBlue Princeis a proper video game wonder. It’s an architectural puzzler in which you explore a transforming mansion left to you by an eccentric relative. The place is filled with secrets, and whenever you reach a door you get to pick the room on the other side from a handful of options. The whole game is a rumination on houses and how we live in them. Nostalgic and melancholic, it feels designed to make us look harder at what surrounds us.
This Addams’-style Queen Anne with clapboard facades and dark windows is a classic haunted house, reportedly inspired by theSkywalker Ranch. The great twist of this early LucasArts adventure is that all kinds of spooky things are happening, but the fiends and monsters you meet are often surprisingly charming – the odd hamster-in-a-microwave incident aside. Maybe not a great place to live, but these guys would make memorable neighbours.
Nestled amid the foreboding Arklay mountains outside Raccoon City, the Spencer mansion is what would have happened if the murderer from the Saw movies had become an architect. This vast country pile in theSecond Empire styleis lusciously adorned with oil paintings, antique furniture and hidden rooms. However, any potential buyers should know it’s essentially a vast trap, filled with puzzles and monsters, designed to kill anyone wanting to investigate the massive bio-research facility beneath it.
Based onGoose Creek Tower in Alaska, Finch house is a monument to the doomedfamily who once lived there, which explains why the bedrooms are sealed off like museum exhibits. Floors are piled up haphazardly and navigating the interior can feel like moving through the transformations of a pop-up book. Living here would be fascinating, but you’d need good joints, what with all the stairs. On the plus side, the bookcases are filled with works such as Gravity’s Rainbow, Slaughterhouse-Five and House of Leaves, so you’d get to catch up on your postmodernist reading.
One of thegreat video-game homes, this strange mansion is left in disarray after an almighty booze-up. The rooms feel very much like a lurid hangover, incorporating stomping boots, chomping toilet seats and at one point, an entire tree. What makes this classic platformer so haunting is the juxtaposition of domesticity and surreal horror. The bedroom is out of bounds and the refrigerator threatens to extend for miles. Oh, and there’s an entrance to Hades on the floorplan.
Nintendo’s dreamydeconstruction of capitalismis so close to being a doll’s house for adults that it makes sense that you get your own home to decorate. Beyond choosing the wallpaper and adding just the right indoor plants, you also have an option to fill the air with recordings of music performed by a local dog. This sounds childlike, but the compulsion to refine layouts feels like a very middle-aged kind of obsession, and in one of many brutal lunges at realism, you don’t even get to enter your house without first being handcuffed to a gigantic mortgage.
What’s your favourite Zelda dungeon? Allow us to make the case for Snowpeak ruins, from the slightlyunder-loved Twilight Princess. There have been better puzzles in Zelda, and better rewards for beating a boss, but this cosy getaway high in the mountains is easily the most warmly domestic space in the entire series. It’s not just down to the warmth radiating from the many hearths or the juxtaposition to the icy chill outside. It’s the presence of two gentle Yetis, wandering around despite your dramatic arrival, tending to bubbling pots of stew.
Lara Croft’scountry housemay have started as a place for the games to tuck away a tutorial section, but the Manor quickly evolved into a vital part of the series’ appeal. Croft isn’t just gymnastic and deadly, she’s absolutely minted. Her house is filled with the strangely proportioned rooms you often got when PS1 games ventured indoors, and there’s often a hedge maze alongside a gymnasium. Croft has a room just for her harpsichord! And she has a butler who’s happy to wearily plod along behind her and endure an eternity locked in the freezer.
Luigi’s Mansionwas the first game to give either one of Nintendo’s plumbers much in the way of a personality. It’s tempting to argue that’s because Luigi’s thrown in among ordinary domestic clutter here, rather than being let loose to jump and dance through worlds of colourful whimsy. The mansion in question may be filled with ghosts, but it’s also filled with bookshelves, hallway carpeting, light fixtures and a decent-sized kitchen. It’s the perfect place for the ever-roving Marioverse to settle down for a moment and offer a sustained depiction of a single place.
Jade is a photojournalist rather than a soldier, exploring a fantasy world that’s based on Europe rather than the US or Japan. No wonder, then, that instead of a mansion or hi-tech HQ, she gets tolive in a lighthouseon the misty shores of a quiet water world. The lighthouse doubles as a refuge and orphanage, and it’s a delight to spot the little details the designers have included, whether it’s the chummy mess in the living spaces, or the crayon drawings on the woodwork.
Players are drawn to Botany Manor by the puzzles, which revolve around uncovering the conditions required to allow a series of flowers to grow and thrive. But the space itself is arguably the thing that draws everyone back until the game is complete. Here is a version of early 20th-century English elegance pitched somewhere between the worlds of Jeeves and Flora Poste. The colours and sense of expectant stillness, meanwhile, could come from a piece of Clarice Cliff Bizarre Ware pottery.
When novelist Adrienne Delaney moves into this remote New England property seeking inspiration, she loves the giant fireplaces, labyrinthine corridors and authentic gothic chapel but isn’t so keen on the presence of a wife-murdering demon intent on decapitating, stabbing or squashing residents to death. Heavily inspired by The Shining and the works of Edgar Allen Poe, adventure designer Roberta Williams built this mansion to be the ultimate gore-splattered horror house. Viewing recommended.