Mystery Case Files: Ravenhearst is, apparently, another game in a series of Hidden Object titles. The conceit this time around centers around Ravenhearst, a creepy manor in the style of Disney's Haunted Mansion, though no overt supernatural activity is at hand. Otherwise, there is a mess of atmosphere in evidence. The artwork is appropriately dark and moody and lush, nearly gothic at times. The ambient sounds -- wind, creaking wood, barely-apprehended whispers, etc. -- are done extremely well and provide just enough of a frisson to add urgency to the situation. I'm one of those who always turns off the background music when I'm playing any game, so I won't speak to the quality of the score, though given the quality of every other element, I'd be willing to bet it's just as good.

The heart of the game is, of course, the Hidden Object mechanic, and it's much more addictive than you might think. So, for those of you new to this genre, here's how it works: you are asked to find a number of random, having-nothing-to-do-with-the-game's-plot items in a screen filled with such items. A list on the right-hand side keeps track of which items you've discovered, removing it from the list when the item is found. Once the object is acquired, it's added to your satchel. As far as immersion is concerned, each screen pertains to a particular room of the mansion you're exploring, like the kitchen, the attic, what have you. Part of the reason finding an object in a game sounds so easy is that you haven't yet seen the filled-to-capacity screen you have to navigate.

Every trick in the book is employed here: objects that blend in with a background wall's color because they aren't their normal color; objects carefully aligned with the room's architecture; objects larger or smaller than they normally are; objects actually hidden behind other objects -- pretty much every way possible to hide an item is done here to great effect. In fact, it's even as insidious as playing upon your expectations of what an item is. I can't tell you how many times I overlooked an object because I had a preconceived notion of what a "comb" should look like. This is not hyperbole: looking for a "comb" took me nearly five minutes of looking around, and the only reason I finally got the right item is because I clicked on what I thought might be the comb handle, only to have it actually turn out to be the handle of what I would call a brush, complete with hairy bristles.