Lost In the Snow (Geddit?)

So, another hefty gap between entries. Time for another one, don't you think? Plus, if anything is going to make me want to post anything, it'll be completing Shattered Memories.

I must say, upon ordering a copy of the aforementioned Wii 'ware I was filled with a mixture of giddy anticipation and cynical apprehension (I'll leave the analogies alone for now, folks). The former because, as you silent, non-existent people will know by now I'm a huge fan of the series since its inception. Something about the psychological terror has always secretly thrilled me more than the, albeit glorious, out and out gore-fest that is Resident Evil. The latter because, unfortunately I was one of the club of people bitterly... and I mean bitterly disappointed with Homecoming.

Now, perhaps it has been studying Silent Hill and survival horror for near on two years with varying levels of intensity in anticipation of my dissertation that has warped me. Whatever it was, I just despised nearly every element of the game. From the dull as dishwater idea of a main protagonist, down to the forced combat. You know what I found fun in every other instalment of Silent Hill? Having to kill five or six nurses to simply exit a building using a battle system that is heavily used but still as clunky as any of the previous ones. Oh, and the nurses? Don't even get me started on those. Reading up on the theories and mythology surrounding Silent Hill one to four makes me immediately hate the misuse of any psychological element without correct grounding in the narrative.

Nonetheless, the more I read about Shattered Memories the more I was both intrigued yet deterred. To me, it sounded like a return to the survival horror series I loved. More emphasis on the narrative and the psychological terrors, a re-imagining of the original from a fresh, new angle and moreover... no forced combat. That said, the issue of no combat at all was one I wasn't overly impressed with either, at first. It was the therapy segments featuring that smarmy bastard Kaufman that really sold me, though. So, when it came in the post last week I had that increasingly rare moment that every gamer has at some point. The one where you forego anything else, food, water, television... just to rip off the plastic and begin immersing yourself as soon as possible.

Thank god I was pleasantly surprised. Silent Hill: Origins turned out to be a good indicator for this, as it indeed felt like a Silent Hill game. Something Homecoming never did for me. The therapy section at the beginning was wonderfully executed, with genuine thought (at least on my part) going into answering the questions posed. The town, although not the familiar foggy landscape still held that feeling of trapped isolation despite the open areas that I enjoyed. The snow was a welcome change from the films idea of ash, at least (Nope, not a big fan of the movie canon here, guys). The 'nightmares' also became a welcome surprise. The complete lack of combat certainly does add a constant sense of desperation and tension as you run away from the 'agents' of your repressed memories. God, how I love all that psycho-babble actually making sense in the context of the game.

I guess the only negative for me, if I can call it that, is that perhaps the game hit home a little too much for me. I know the majority of people who play this won't experience any resonance with the on-screen issues or, at the very least, wouldn't care. I did however, at various points but I can't commit to calling this a flaw. If anything, despite at times feeling uncomfortable with what I was being confronted with this actually worked within the context of what I was experiencing. Both as Cheryl/Harry and myself. If anything, I'm sure the development team should be commended that it felt that real.

So, all in all, despite my reservations about being hurt again by a series I loved, instead it has rekindled that joy that I felt with its earlier brethren. I guess I should just be lucky that I wasn't as die-hard a fan of Sonic as my fiancé, eh? Ten years or so of pain, now that is dedication to a series.