Code Violet — A Prehistoric Bloodbath That Fails To Evolve

I’ve spent time in the world of Code Violet, and it is a bad game. If the appeal lies solely in watching a protagonist battle dinosaurs in a visually polished setting, then perhaps there is something here. For anyone seeking a compelling story, interesting characters, or tense, savvy action horror, this raptor-infested space station is the wrong destination. What I found was a foundation of terrible third-person shooting, uninspired level design, and a host of technical blunders that made the experience feel dated and frustrating.

I want to extend my thanks to Jarrett Green for his review on IGN, which articulated many of the issues I encountered. The few other characters you meet are one-note exposition dispensers. I watched the hero, Violet, express worry and sorrow for them without ever truly understanding the connection. Violet herself is a hollow protagonist, lacking motivation beyond following instructions and reacting with incredulity to the strange events around her. She is designed in the archetype of a tough, capable hero like Jill Valentine or Lara Croft, who can think or shoot her way out of any problem.

Yet, those characters possess agency and capability developed through their actions and dialogue. Violet’s thoughts on the events unfolding around her seem entirely absent. The only time she feels competent is when I am directly in control, navigating hallways and engaging dinosaurs. This lack of character development is a missed opportunity to introduce a memorable new figure to gaming. It also casts an uncomfortable light on the game’s leering camera work and extensive cosmetic options, making them feel more creepy than fun. In a time when players are ready to embrace a wide range of character types, from heroic to seductive, the game manages to handle its protagonist’s portrayal poorly.

Playing on a PlayStation 5, I noticed that some parts of the game do look good from a distance. The outdoor areas, with islands floating in a purplish sky, are creatively designed. Up close, however, the illusion shatters. Textures become muddy, and metallic surfaces reflect light in a gaudy, off-putting way that clashes with the intended grime and grunge aesthetic. Most of the time is spent skulking down heavy metal hallways that are indistinguishable from countless other sci-fi facilities in gaming. The aesthetic was achieved more effectively by games from two decades ago.

There are occasional moments of visual flair, such as out-of-place medieval statues, but they lack explanation and feel arbitrary. I frequently found myself pausing to examine soda machines and oil paintings, trying to determine if they were generated by AI, as they have a distinct, uncanny quality. The visually impressive outdoor skyscapes only serve to mock the bland, rote grasslands below. These open areas are merely long hallways with tall grass for crouching, offering no real opportunity for exploration or deviation from a strict critical path. No map is provided, nor is one needed, as the way forward is always obvious. These sections were likely intended as a reprieve from the claustrophobic indoor environments, but they feel just as constrained, only with a brighter color palette.

The interior spaces are no better. Rooms that might contain something to investigate or an enemy to fight are separated by long, empty hallways that do nothing to build tension or add to the experience. This predictable, slogging pace between action zones persists across the game’s handful of maps. Unlike a game such as Dead Space, where any room can feel dangerous, in Code Violet, I could be reasonably sure that most corridors existed only to be walked through.

The only incentive to stray from the path is to find upgrade materials or combinations for locked lockers, but I learned early on that the effort was rarely worth the reward. It simply meant enduring the crumbling combat system for longer than necessary. Violet herself is agile, with a swift movement set and a back-stepping dodge reminiscent of Resident Evil, which is crucial for creating space between her and the dinosaurs. In a direct fight, a well-timed dodge can confuse the raptors, whose simple AI consists of running at you, taking a swing, pausing, and repeating the cycle. The problem is that space is often limited, with walls or doors closing behind you, and the camera frequently collides with these barriers long before Violet does. Any encounter not in the center of a room can become an unintelligible mess as you fight to refocus the camera. This was a constant headache indoors, a secondary jump scare waiting after a dinosaur burst through a wall.

The variety of dinosaurs is a letdown. The bulk of the non-boss enemies are composed of large or small velociraptors and poison-spitting dilophosauruses. Each has a shallow, predictable set of behaviors. Large raptors run and swipe until one of you is dead. Small raptors attack in a conga line, each taking a turn to swipe before running away and repeating the process. The spitters remain stationary, only closing the distance if you approach them first. Gator-like creatures appear in the last third of the roughly six-hour campaign but are easily avoided and dispatched.

The challenge from these enemies came not from their design but from their erratic and buggy behavior. They would often get stuck on the environment or simply disengage if I walked away. Their resistance to damage and stun meant they could often get in a cheap shot before dying, turning them into an annoyance rather than a genuine threat. This holds true for the small number of boss fights as well; the core strategy of walking backward, dodging, and shooting in the face never changes.

Stealth is largely a waste of time. The dinosaurs seem to possess a supernatural awareness, often knowing my location even when I made my best attempts to be sneaky. Many encounters are scripted, with dinosaurs waiting behind a door or ambushing you, removing any chance for a quiet approach.

The only fear it instilled in me was of the many bugs that threaten to crash the game, a life-ending comet for an already struggling world.