Fatal Frame II: Crimson Butterfly Remake - Review

The combat system in Fatal Frame is something almost entirely unique to the series. Taking photos of ghosts is uncomfortable and stressful — especially because the most effective way to do it is when they’re practically right on top of you.

Unlike many survival horror games, avoiding confrontation isn’t always an option here. In certain situations, you’re forced to face enemies head-on. And you don’t do it with conventional weapons — no guns, no knives. All you have is the Camera Obscura, a mysterious device capable of capturing the supernatural, the unseen… even the past. Its origins are only vaguely touched upon, never fully explained, and that sense of mystery actually works in the game’s favor.

Before writing this review, I looked into some of the differences compared to the original. In the older version, there was a scoring system based on the quality of your photos, which was then used to upgrade the Camera Obscura. Here, that system has been simplified: upgrades are still present, but they now depend on specific items you find throughout the game. Since these aren’t abundant, you’re forced to make decisions about how you want to evolve the camera — which adds a more strategic layer to progression.

The point system is still there, but it’s now used to purchase consumables, charms that can be equipped to Mio for passive buffs, as well as photo frames and alternate outfits for the sisters. I’ve seen some criticism of the combat, mainly saying it becomes repetitive. I can understand that perspective, but I also feel it doesn’t tell the whole story. As you progress, you unlock various abilities that change how you approach encounters — and in some cases, they’re essential, whether to conserve resources or to push forward. Some of these include special shots that repel ghosts, blind them, or slow them down.

Another important addition is the new mechanic of holding Mayu’s hand to help her move, as she has an injured leg. I’ll admit I’ve never been a fan of escort missions (and I’m definitely not alone there), but here it strikes a reasonable balance. Mayu doesn’t constantly get “lost” if you’re not glued to her, which already goes a long way.

Still, there are a few issues. In tighter spaces, Mayu can behave oddly — teleporting or snapping into position just to maintain the hand-holding mechanic. In stealth sections, for example, she sometimes won’t enter hiding spots and remains exposed… while enemies completely ignore her. It’s not gamebreaking, but it does break immersion a bit.

An interesting change from the original is the removal of playable sections with Mayu when the sisters are separated. Instead, you use the Camera Obscura to follow spiritual traces and figure out where to go next. This mechanic is also used to explore optional content — the so-called “Side Stories” — which help expand on the village’s lore.

Much of the game takes place inside traditional Japanese houses, with narrow corridors, limited visibility, and often confusing layouts. Navigation itself frequently becomes a challenge. And I’ll say it outright: compared to this, the corridors in Resident Evil or Silent Hill almost feel straightforward.

What’s most interesting is how the game maintains constant tension. Behind every door, in every room, or even when picking up an item, something can happen. Many of these events feel almost random — whether it’s enemies or what I’d call “lore ghosts,” which appear only to provide context or hint at something hidden.

Even after passing through the same areas multiple times, the game still manages to surprise you. There’s always that feeling of “I’ve been here before… but something’s going to happen.” And strangely enough, I really liked that.

The ghosts themselves are another standout. Their facial expressions are genuinely disturbing. The Japanese have an incredible ability to take something seemingly simple and turn it into something deeply unsettling — and here, that’s on full display.