SwallowBay Review

The naming convention is total. Every release pairs a performer's first name with a confection — an ice cream, a lollipop, a bag of gummies, a jelly heart, a cream puff, a stick of peppermint gum. Not one title describes what happens in the scene. Whoever set that rule has stuck to it across the whole catalogue, and the effect is a release list that reads like the counter display in a sweet shop.

Underneath it sits a working clock. The next update is counted down in days, hours, minutes and seconds on the front page, against a stated monthly release rate, so the schedule is a commitment rather than a vague promise of freshness.

The technical claims are the ones VR buyers actually need and they are specific: 180-degree point of view, resolutions quoted up to 8K, streaming or download, and named support for the current headsets. Runtimes are printed against each scene and run to about fifty minutes, which for this format is a long sitting.

Photos, animated clips and a forum extend it. Membership covers the lot and the archive stretches back a couple of years.