"Bridewell", the Curse-of-Strahd-but-good adventure that Nova is currently writing and playtesting, features:
unsettling puppet people;
druids who practice bloody sacrifice, Wicker Man style; and
child-brutalising werewolves.
It also features Padru, a forest god shaped like a giant cuddly red panda.
10/10, full marks, no notes. When I encountered Padru during playtests, I was instantly charmed. It was a moment of wonderful relief, a ray of sunshine through cloud cover. In that moment I saw what the fog-ridden, werewolf-infested forest could be. Hope and tragedy.
If Padru didn't look cuddly---if she was all thorny and dark like a death metal album cover---she would've been predictably, boringly in genre, and I would not have cared about her at all.
The film review I dislike the most is the kind of review that docks points for "tonal inconsistency":
"The tone of this movie is all over the place, the characters quip too much, breaks the mood, is this comedy?"
Why be boring? Why not be both?
I wonder whether this has anything to do with being in my context, growing up with horror comedy movies from Hong Kong and Malay-language cinema like "Zombi Kampung Pisang" and "Geong Si Sin Sang". But terrifying monsters are very much A Real Thing, where I live---so entertainment needs the relief of laughter. Maybe this is just personal aesthetic preference.
In tabletop game design, especially for games that emulate genre (the horror RPG, the noir RPG, the dark fantasy RPG), there is a strong inclination to go:
It is important to design systems and mechanics that set up consistent tone and mood.
Respectfully: I disagree.
Mood rarely survives contact with players. Unless:
players / the GM are theatrically skilled; AND
your table is strict about enforcing a social contract of The Mood We Are Trying To Create For Each Other.
Gods know I'm ass at both the above. And I am willing to bet that a fair slice of TTRPG players are like me, if we aren't actually the majority.
The thing I consider more important than tone, that never breaks, is meaningful worldbuilding. Concrete details that feel true. Characters and geography that responds in living ways.
Padru is concrete. Our characters could touch her fur. Her soft autumnal red in a drab, monochrome landscape has purpose: she is designed to offer a glimpse of what the forest used to be.
Tone is bullshit. Contrast is where it's at.
Showing me a full reality outside horror makes the horror hit harder.