I am a huge fan of visual novels. I am not, however, a fan of horror. So when one of the people behind my favorite VN, Arcade Spirits, offered me a code for their new game, I was hesitant. I picked up Laugh Track with guarded enthusiasm. Resident Evil terrifies me. Phasmophobia nearly gave me a heart attack. But without a single jumpscare, Laugh Track broke me.
The premise is absurd and the visuals gentle. You won’t see a single monster coming for your blood. You won’t even technically be in danger of dying. That’s because the term “comedy horror” is a bit misleading. We have a certain assumption when we hear it, but Laugh Track fits the genre in the most literal way possible. Comedy: a situation made amusing by bungling and incompetence. Horror: an intense feeling of fear, shock, or disgust. This is what you’re getting.
And one last word about Laugh Track before I get into the review proper: it is very much not for everyone. And for those its message is meant for, it will hurt. That’s the point. So if I may paraphrase V from V for Vendetta, “If you’ve seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you, then I suggest you allow this game to pass unmarked. But if you see what they see, if you feel as they feel… then perhaps Laugh Track is for you.”
Laugh Track is available on Steam for free.
Story – The Horrors Will Be Televised
You are the Storyteller. At least, if that’s the name you want. In Laugh Track, it doesn’t really matter, because in reality you are a cult member, singularized into part of a greater Lovecraftian abomination like it was the Third Impact.
Or you were, anyway—until the greater collective needed your expertise in writing stories. Why? Well, to torture a group of teenagers plucked from across a half-century of Americana and selected to suffer publicly in a bid to sterilize the minds of a multiverse worth of watchers into accepting their place in the collective. You know, that old chestnut.
You run a transdimensional sitcom alongside some very questionable partners in a bid to create a show that will allow your superiors—or are they just an extension of you?—to absorb all reality bit by bit. You’ll make decisions that impact the high school drama of these four teenagers, deciding how they react and even who they pair with. Drama. Comedy. Connection. Everything your audience desires.
But along the way, you realize the horrors they’re facing, while dressed up as familiar struggles, are something far worse. This story finds bespoke torture for each of your four protagonists in ways that are clearly reflective of the world around us. Yes—what is going on right now.
As you push forward, the teens start to see the cracks in reality. Start to understand what’s happening to them. And they’re not shy about confronting you—yes, you—about it. Toss in a couple of at-odds, transdimensional heroes with opposing views on how to “save” the world, and you end up with some very big choices.
You see, the torture isn’t optional. Ratings are a pivotal part of your story, and while giving them a break is kind, poor ratings will get the whole show cancelled—and your teens along with it. So, Storyteller… what decisions will you make?
A Touch of Reality
Here’s the biggest caveat about Laugh Track. As said before, the game’s horrors are about the real world. About what’s going on right now. I don’t want to spoil anything, but this is probably where the biggest divide in players will come from. No sugarcoating it—the game is political in nature. But then again, so is everything right now.
As the Storyteller, you’ll be putting your protagonists through classic sitcom paces, with predictable hijinks ensuing. But that’s only the setup. In Laugh Track, every scenario sets your characters up for something that might hit close to home for some players. Racism. Bigotry. Being forced to choose between fighting for a better world or keeping your head down to stay safe. And, for me, the most personally heart-wrenching line of them all—being “one of the good ones” so you don’t draw attention to yourself.
If Laugh Track speaks to you, it’s likely you’ll find a connection with one or more of the characters’ plights. Dealing with sexuality. Being an immigrant. Even homelessness. But what might hurt the most is that you, the Storyteller, have to turn those screws yourself on occasion. There is no easy path here.
Gameplay – If It Bleeds, It Leads
Like most visual novels, Laugh Track ultimately comes down to a series of decisions. Do you take path A or path B? The hook is in the connection you build with the story, and especially with the characters. But the quirk here is that you, as the Storyteller, have a delicate balance to maintain as you shape the paths of your protagonists.
While you’ll be making choices regularly, occasionally you’ll face ratings decisions. These either ease the tension on your protagonists at the cost of lower ratings, or tighten the screws while boosting them. Too high or too low both carry consequences, and that’s before you meet interdimensional heroes who need very specific ratings to pull off their plans.
All of this unfolds over a series of eight episodes, each one marked by the character it most affects. To make things even more excruciating, some are “very special episodes,” focusing on a single character and turning the drama all the way up. Laugh Track excels at making you choose not between a good and bad path, but between pain now… or pain later.
Graphics and Audio – Deceptive Designs to Disguise Devilish Decisions
Laugh Track’s soundtrack is serviceable, nothing to write home about. But that’s not what its audio is there for. It’s about authenticity—the feel of a ’90s sitcom. The scratch of low-quality audio. The titular laugh track backing the very not-funny goof-ups your protagonists make. The transition stings reminiscent of shows like Family Matters or Full House. And of course, the horrific commercials that made me question my decision to keep playing… but… in a good way.
What really brings the game to life are the art and the voice acting. The voices are, for the most part, Charlie Brown–esque squeaks. It’s not an uncommon tactic in games with limited budgets, but it’s used very strategically here. Because while every episode leans on those little “wah-wah” voiceovers, it all slaps you in the face between episodes, stuck in the cosmic void, when your protagonists confront you with their real, honest voices. It’s jarring. It’s perfect.
But the artwork? For me, personally, this is what clinched things. It’s important to know that Laugh Track comes from the same people behind much more lighthearted games—like my personal favorites, the Arcade Spirits duology (go check them out on Steam!) Sharing the same artist sets a certain emotional expectation, but even if the style is brand new to you, that soft, almost comical look hides the true horror of what’s happening. And trust me—they use that to full effect.
- Episodes are like chapters, but horrific and scarring.
- Obviously everything is a fictitious creation with no real life inspiration.
- The Hamster only says what we’re all thinking.
- Juno is the main character, but certainly not the only important one.
Laugh Track was reviewed on PC with a key provided by Fiction Factory Games.










