Arameus
2008-10-17, 04:46 AM
But good God, boredom just may have a shot.
When Resident Evil for the Sony PlayStation was new and receiving such accolades, I had the briefest of flirtations with it before giving it up. This was for several reasons that have nothing to do with the game itself, including:
-I was young and therefore dumb, and just couldn't hack it.
-I did not, in fact, own the game. Nor a PlayStation.
-Parents tend to object to such content when you haven't yet achieved a double-digit age.
So, I went back to enjoying my 64 and great times were had by all, except me because my brother hogged it constantly. And the SNES when we had that. And the PlayStation once we got one. And the PS2. And the Xbox, and any PC game we ever owned...
Shoot, I was talking about... something. *crickets* Oh, RE. Yeah. So, years pass and I discover the survival horror genre. Well, that's a lie. I discovered Silent Hill. 2. And good times were had by all. Except the washing machine, which I always suspected bore a resigned but smoldering dislike for sodden trousers. (Do you find anthropomorphizing the appliances helps stave off the crushing loneliness? No, I don't either. *weeps*)
I gotta tell you, I have a hell of a time with Silent Hill, despite its (numerous staggering) flaws. I've played them all except for 0rigins, which I can't seem to find anywhere (not that I'm looking that hard considering its reputation), and have come away thoroughly impressed nearly every time. I like to think I gauge them all with my usual practiced criticism, but I've gotta say: ever since I fell out of love with Final Fantasy, it's probably the only series I honestly fear myself flying into flat-out fanboy frenzy over, which is a very real concern considering I had completed Homecoming all of three days after deciding never to buy it.
So, fast forward a few years. I got a nice, comfy job in a call center that leaves me with plenty of downtime to berate and be berated by a nice fellow who happens to also be very into video games, with the occasional interjection by two other folks between us that game as well. It's a lucky arrangment, and good times are had by all. Except everyone else on our row, who have come to hate our constant chatter.
One day we get on the subject of survival horror, and he goes on and on about Resident Evil, and I go on and on about Silent Hill. Now, rewind a bit: In the end times of the last console generation, I had picked up Resident Evil 4 for the PlayStation 2. It came very, very highly reccomended and did not disappoint. Had a blast with it, and will admit to anyone that the gameplay is so well-built and highly polished that it's probably one of the greatest games for the PS2 and of the entire generation, and definitely takes the gameplay cake over any of Silent Hill's iterations, which have always suffered in the mechanics department. So, as a game, it pwns, as my acquaintance would say. But as a survival horror game? Despite its mastery of its concrete elements, I regarded and will always regard RE4 as a very thrilling third-person shooter, not a survival horror game, because the inclusion of the undead isn't enough to plant it in that category. The game never failed to keep my eyes peeled, and never let my adrenaline drop to healthy levels
But aside from a few shock scares (He came out of the oven!! HE CAME OUT OF THE F***IN' OVEN, MAN!!!), the game never made me feel frightened, or, perhaps more appropriately, horrified. In fact, the game actually seems to falter so badly in this area that it actually becomes one of its strengths unintentionally, making you feel like a total badass when the repulsive abomination meant to terrorize you just makes you grit your teeth in a grin as you remark to yourself, "Poor thing; it doesn't know I upgraded my magnum."
Past that, though, some of the touches intended as creepy came off as as humorous. If you look at the cows at the farm, for instance, you can see by their eyes that they, too, bear the Plagas. Think about that. Zombie cows. ZOMBIE COWS! It's GENIUS! We'll take them on the road and charge progressively more and more for admission as they mutate further! I don't fault the game for any of this, though, because regardless of what it was intended as, or what it was expected to be, the game is a titan because of what it is, external considerations be damned.
So, good times where had by all. Except Leon, who must for the rest of his life deal with random people trying to get Brendon Fraser's autograph from him, truly a fate worse than infection.
I pointed out these things to my coworker, and he seemed (a bit too) prepared for my remark about the fright factor. I had heard that 4 had taken a much more action-oriented direction with the series, and that the previous iterations were far more closely in line with the genre. That is to say, they'll make you sully your trousers and speak in tongues. He told me the same thing, and heartily recommended the earlier titles. Seemed like he enjoys that style of game more.
Now, about Silent Hill. I hold this to be one of the finest series I've ever played. Sure, the camera sucks, and the combat could use some livening up, and the controls need tightening, but... I was going somewhere with all that...
Ah, yes. Atmosphere. I have never played a series that so consistently and skillfully rises above it's material considerations and becomes something so much greater than the the sum of its parts. All of them have this quality of masterfully and quickly immersing the player in its twisted mythos and leaving them there to be watched. And the other thing that impresses me is that the series never fails to will itself into new territory, as each iteration attempts to defy its previous iteration's method of telling a story. Each one is similar to the others on a surface level, but has unique voice and personality, such that even The Room, probably the most physically deficient of the series, gave one of the most inventive and ruthlessly haunting experiences of the series.
To put it in perspective, Silent Hill 4: The Room has put a stuffed pink rabbit on the short list of Most Terrifying Things Ever. No, not a possesed stuffed pink rabbit. No, not a stuffed pink rabbit that attacks you when your back is turned. A stuffed pink rabbit. A normal one. One that just sits there. Stock still. And stares. And smiles. And points. And accuses. And knows. Glassy eyes meeting your own through the darkness. Teeth in the palpable murk, smiling to mock your futility and wailing that silent, hollow indictment of your failure. Zombies? Demons? Dark Gods? They bow to this thing.
It's a perfect example of Silent Hill's matchless ability to create not frightening things, not frightening goings-on, but a truly oppressive and horrifying world, which by the very weight of its presence overshadows every little thing you see and do. So, obviously, good times are had by all. Except everyone in Toluca County, the poor dumb bastards.
(Parenthetical paragraph: I can't actually make this claim for Homecoming, not because it fails to do so, but because of rodents. No, not rats in the game or anything like that. There are squirrels in my house. They live in the walls. I cannot fairly make any judgment of this game's fright factor because the entire time I played it, there were scratching and clawing noises coming from every direction. The fourth wall in that game isn't the TV screen. It's walnut paneling. And it lives.)
So something of a trade was put together. I, who had never experience the 'true' Resident Evil and its legendary, genre-founding majesty would receive his Gamecube and the remastered classic, along with Resident Evil 0. And he, who had hardly so much as heard of Silent Hill, would receive one of my most cherished games, Silent Hill 2, far and away the best of the series in my opinion.
And, you know, good times were had by none. We each hate the game we borrowed. He's bringing back my game soon, having 'just never gotten into it,' and I am bringing Resident Evil and its prequel back to him soon, because, to describe it with my trademark loquaciousness, it SUCKS and is DUMB. Well, I guess that's hardly fair. It's very likely that the game, unchanged but for its graphics, simply hasn't aged well over the many years. Whereas RE4 played masterfully in a way people suggest was unintended or unpure, the original fails in exactly the areas it is intended to exemplify. A survival horror game must contain two elements, and must do them well. They are:
-Survival
-Horror
Fascinating stuff, I know. So, how does it fare in the first area? About as well as Jill's poor jugular vein, I find. You have two ways of surviving. The first is to blow down every zombie you see and clear the mansion. That'll show the mean ole' Umbrella who wears the beret, eh? No, because killing everything will result in squandering all your ammo and being left high and dry with your useless melee weapon, quickly running out of healing items trying to take anything in melee or just having to rely on running away. And you only have very finite means of desecrating the corpses, which will only come back later stronger, faster, and particularly miffed at you later in the game if left unmolested.
So, rather than fighting, which is utterly pointless, you usually and up trying to run from everything. Mistake. Running away, of course, is the second method of staying alive and fails harder than the first because as much of a weak and dangerous delay tactic fighting is, running away requires you to skillfully and reliably navigate tight spaces with a quality of character control so incontrovertibly sluggish, unresponsive, and muddy it makes Tomb Raider look like Ace Combat. (This is a remake only issue, but the Gamecube doesn't exactly have the best controller ever made. I know Nintendo's got to try to be different, but a few seconds playtesting might have helped.)
That's made even more unforgivably unreliable by the game's unpredictable and ever-changing camera, which when there are no enemies about provides the most cinematic view available but in combat usually acts as an ever-present and all-powerful antagonist that makes the already unfair gameplay into a perfect storm of poor design choices ensuring you are killed by an enemy you couldn't even see until it already attacked you once, compelling you to fall back to a place where you can blindly fire at it, unaware of when or if it will lunge from off-screen to deliver the second blow, which, when your character dies after two hits on Normal, is somewhat upsetting. I'd go as far as to say that the camera is a far more sublte and devious villain than that backstabbing cliche Wesker could ever be. zOMG liek spoiler alert hurhurhur!!1!1
So, we're left with horror. This one's much quicker to address: no. No, it isn't scary in the least little bit. It did the exact same things that RE4, the so-called 'pariah,' did to scare you: rely on the enemies' innate freakishness and overpoweredness to make you fear them, and throw in some cheap shock scares to punctuate the baseline terror that that supposedly creates. But zombies aren't scary, or at least they aren't anymore. They're ridiculous, lumbering, cliches moaning and holding their arms out a la Frankenstein's monster and, like Steven Seagal movies, act as a completely unintentional parody of themselves. And, also like Steven Seagal, the game doesn't seem to realize this.
Now, see, the mechanics aspect I can just chalk up to the game's vintage. I can forgive most games almost endlessly for doing the best they could with their era's constraints. But no one could possibly have taken this game's concept of 'horror' seriously in this or any time period. Since the game is so blissfully unaware of its own incompetence, it treats itself with utmost reverence, which would come across as chilling has the game succeded at horror, but just comes across as extremely pretentious and self-important in light of the facts.
With the baseline of horror taken away, the shock scares just become insulting and angering, as if the game is beginning to realize it's not cutting it and starts sneaking up behind you and clapping its hands in your ears to compensate. 'My fears are in the darkness?' Yes, Capcom they are! My fear is that I'll have to play this boring, tedious section a third time when your broken game kills me again. My fear is that I have wasted hours of my life to humor my friend's delusion. My fear is that people can with a straight face disdain the masterwork that is RE4 and refer to this as the golden age of horror.
The 'purists' can suck toes; I can see now that Resident Evil 4's style of play does not take a bold step away from the series' roots, but, for the first time, takes a bold step toward them. Resident Evil 4 accomplishes what every game in the series has been tripping over itself trying to accomplish. Every concept I experienced in the original (and in the prequel, which I played but am not discussing due to finding it identical to the original) is present in 4 and vice versa: the stock and space management, the style of 'horror' they shoot for, the enemies, the familiar plot, the characters, every element that RE had always shot for is present with all their lofty targets struck dead-on, just with all the rotting, grimy detritus stripped away from the gameplay and hung about the monsters and environments where it belongs. I dream of a day when Silent Hill can claim such a heretic among its ranks!
I don't really know what to make of it. Differ'nt strokes fer differ'nt fokes, I guess. Of course, I haven't yet really dragged the long and short of my co-worker's opinion of Silent Hill out of him, and I guess that's the other half to this story. I'm beginning to suspect, however, that this may have all been an elaborate trick of his, and that when he felt such a powerful distaste for my game he convinced me to partake in the ultimate shame of not only playing an awful game, but of playing it on the Gamecube. But the joke's on him because, having already bought and beaten Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, I fhave already accepted my irrevocable status as a filthy, filthy whore and do not have any lower to fall. HA. HA. HA.
When Resident Evil for the Sony PlayStation was new and receiving such accolades, I had the briefest of flirtations with it before giving it up. This was for several reasons that have nothing to do with the game itself, including:
-I was young and therefore dumb, and just couldn't hack it.
-I did not, in fact, own the game. Nor a PlayStation.
-Parents tend to object to such content when you haven't yet achieved a double-digit age.
So, I went back to enjoying my 64 and great times were had by all, except me because my brother hogged it constantly. And the SNES when we had that. And the PlayStation once we got one. And the PS2. And the Xbox, and any PC game we ever owned...
Shoot, I was talking about... something. *crickets* Oh, RE. Yeah. So, years pass and I discover the survival horror genre. Well, that's a lie. I discovered Silent Hill. 2. And good times were had by all. Except the washing machine, which I always suspected bore a resigned but smoldering dislike for sodden trousers. (Do you find anthropomorphizing the appliances helps stave off the crushing loneliness? No, I don't either. *weeps*)
I gotta tell you, I have a hell of a time with Silent Hill, despite its (numerous staggering) flaws. I've played them all except for 0rigins, which I can't seem to find anywhere (not that I'm looking that hard considering its reputation), and have come away thoroughly impressed nearly every time. I like to think I gauge them all with my usual practiced criticism, but I've gotta say: ever since I fell out of love with Final Fantasy, it's probably the only series I honestly fear myself flying into flat-out fanboy frenzy over, which is a very real concern considering I had completed Homecoming all of three days after deciding never to buy it.
So, fast forward a few years. I got a nice, comfy job in a call center that leaves me with plenty of downtime to berate and be berated by a nice fellow who happens to also be very into video games, with the occasional interjection by two other folks between us that game as well. It's a lucky arrangment, and good times are had by all. Except everyone else on our row, who have come to hate our constant chatter.
One day we get on the subject of survival horror, and he goes on and on about Resident Evil, and I go on and on about Silent Hill. Now, rewind a bit: In the end times of the last console generation, I had picked up Resident Evil 4 for the PlayStation 2. It came very, very highly reccomended and did not disappoint. Had a blast with it, and will admit to anyone that the gameplay is so well-built and highly polished that it's probably one of the greatest games for the PS2 and of the entire generation, and definitely takes the gameplay cake over any of Silent Hill's iterations, which have always suffered in the mechanics department. So, as a game, it pwns, as my acquaintance would say. But as a survival horror game? Despite its mastery of its concrete elements, I regarded and will always regard RE4 as a very thrilling third-person shooter, not a survival horror game, because the inclusion of the undead isn't enough to plant it in that category. The game never failed to keep my eyes peeled, and never let my adrenaline drop to healthy levels
But aside from a few shock scares (He came out of the oven!! HE CAME OUT OF THE F***IN' OVEN, MAN!!!), the game never made me feel frightened, or, perhaps more appropriately, horrified. In fact, the game actually seems to falter so badly in this area that it actually becomes one of its strengths unintentionally, making you feel like a total badass when the repulsive abomination meant to terrorize you just makes you grit your teeth in a grin as you remark to yourself, "Poor thing; it doesn't know I upgraded my magnum."
Past that, though, some of the touches intended as creepy came off as as humorous. If you look at the cows at the farm, for instance, you can see by their eyes that they, too, bear the Plagas. Think about that. Zombie cows. ZOMBIE COWS! It's GENIUS! We'll take them on the road and charge progressively more and more for admission as they mutate further! I don't fault the game for any of this, though, because regardless of what it was intended as, or what it was expected to be, the game is a titan because of what it is, external considerations be damned.
So, good times where had by all. Except Leon, who must for the rest of his life deal with random people trying to get Brendon Fraser's autograph from him, truly a fate worse than infection.
I pointed out these things to my coworker, and he seemed (a bit too) prepared for my remark about the fright factor. I had heard that 4 had taken a much more action-oriented direction with the series, and that the previous iterations were far more closely in line with the genre. That is to say, they'll make you sully your trousers and speak in tongues. He told me the same thing, and heartily recommended the earlier titles. Seemed like he enjoys that style of game more.
Now, about Silent Hill. I hold this to be one of the finest series I've ever played. Sure, the camera sucks, and the combat could use some livening up, and the controls need tightening, but... I was going somewhere with all that...
Ah, yes. Atmosphere. I have never played a series that so consistently and skillfully rises above it's material considerations and becomes something so much greater than the the sum of its parts. All of them have this quality of masterfully and quickly immersing the player in its twisted mythos and leaving them there to be watched. And the other thing that impresses me is that the series never fails to will itself into new territory, as each iteration attempts to defy its previous iteration's method of telling a story. Each one is similar to the others on a surface level, but has unique voice and personality, such that even The Room, probably the most physically deficient of the series, gave one of the most inventive and ruthlessly haunting experiences of the series.
To put it in perspective, Silent Hill 4: The Room has put a stuffed pink rabbit on the short list of Most Terrifying Things Ever. No, not a possesed stuffed pink rabbit. No, not a stuffed pink rabbit that attacks you when your back is turned. A stuffed pink rabbit. A normal one. One that just sits there. Stock still. And stares. And smiles. And points. And accuses. And knows. Glassy eyes meeting your own through the darkness. Teeth in the palpable murk, smiling to mock your futility and wailing that silent, hollow indictment of your failure. Zombies? Demons? Dark Gods? They bow to this thing.
It's a perfect example of Silent Hill's matchless ability to create not frightening things, not frightening goings-on, but a truly oppressive and horrifying world, which by the very weight of its presence overshadows every little thing you see and do. So, obviously, good times are had by all. Except everyone in Toluca County, the poor dumb bastards.
(Parenthetical paragraph: I can't actually make this claim for Homecoming, not because it fails to do so, but because of rodents. No, not rats in the game or anything like that. There are squirrels in my house. They live in the walls. I cannot fairly make any judgment of this game's fright factor because the entire time I played it, there were scratching and clawing noises coming from every direction. The fourth wall in that game isn't the TV screen. It's walnut paneling. And it lives.)
So something of a trade was put together. I, who had never experience the 'true' Resident Evil and its legendary, genre-founding majesty would receive his Gamecube and the remastered classic, along with Resident Evil 0. And he, who had hardly so much as heard of Silent Hill, would receive one of my most cherished games, Silent Hill 2, far and away the best of the series in my opinion.
And, you know, good times were had by none. We each hate the game we borrowed. He's bringing back my game soon, having 'just never gotten into it,' and I am bringing Resident Evil and its prequel back to him soon, because, to describe it with my trademark loquaciousness, it SUCKS and is DUMB. Well, I guess that's hardly fair. It's very likely that the game, unchanged but for its graphics, simply hasn't aged well over the many years. Whereas RE4 played masterfully in a way people suggest was unintended or unpure, the original fails in exactly the areas it is intended to exemplify. A survival horror game must contain two elements, and must do them well. They are:
-Survival
-Horror
Fascinating stuff, I know. So, how does it fare in the first area? About as well as Jill's poor jugular vein, I find. You have two ways of surviving. The first is to blow down every zombie you see and clear the mansion. That'll show the mean ole' Umbrella who wears the beret, eh? No, because killing everything will result in squandering all your ammo and being left high and dry with your useless melee weapon, quickly running out of healing items trying to take anything in melee or just having to rely on running away. And you only have very finite means of desecrating the corpses, which will only come back later stronger, faster, and particularly miffed at you later in the game if left unmolested.
So, rather than fighting, which is utterly pointless, you usually and up trying to run from everything. Mistake. Running away, of course, is the second method of staying alive and fails harder than the first because as much of a weak and dangerous delay tactic fighting is, running away requires you to skillfully and reliably navigate tight spaces with a quality of character control so incontrovertibly sluggish, unresponsive, and muddy it makes Tomb Raider look like Ace Combat. (This is a remake only issue, but the Gamecube doesn't exactly have the best controller ever made. I know Nintendo's got to try to be different, but a few seconds playtesting might have helped.)
That's made even more unforgivably unreliable by the game's unpredictable and ever-changing camera, which when there are no enemies about provides the most cinematic view available but in combat usually acts as an ever-present and all-powerful antagonist that makes the already unfair gameplay into a perfect storm of poor design choices ensuring you are killed by an enemy you couldn't even see until it already attacked you once, compelling you to fall back to a place where you can blindly fire at it, unaware of when or if it will lunge from off-screen to deliver the second blow, which, when your character dies after two hits on Normal, is somewhat upsetting. I'd go as far as to say that the camera is a far more sublte and devious villain than that backstabbing cliche Wesker could ever be. zOMG liek spoiler alert hurhurhur!!1!1
So, we're left with horror. This one's much quicker to address: no. No, it isn't scary in the least little bit. It did the exact same things that RE4, the so-called 'pariah,' did to scare you: rely on the enemies' innate freakishness and overpoweredness to make you fear them, and throw in some cheap shock scares to punctuate the baseline terror that that supposedly creates. But zombies aren't scary, or at least they aren't anymore. They're ridiculous, lumbering, cliches moaning and holding their arms out a la Frankenstein's monster and, like Steven Seagal movies, act as a completely unintentional parody of themselves. And, also like Steven Seagal, the game doesn't seem to realize this.
Now, see, the mechanics aspect I can just chalk up to the game's vintage. I can forgive most games almost endlessly for doing the best they could with their era's constraints. But no one could possibly have taken this game's concept of 'horror' seriously in this or any time period. Since the game is so blissfully unaware of its own incompetence, it treats itself with utmost reverence, which would come across as chilling has the game succeded at horror, but just comes across as extremely pretentious and self-important in light of the facts.
With the baseline of horror taken away, the shock scares just become insulting and angering, as if the game is beginning to realize it's not cutting it and starts sneaking up behind you and clapping its hands in your ears to compensate. 'My fears are in the darkness?' Yes, Capcom they are! My fear is that I'll have to play this boring, tedious section a third time when your broken game kills me again. My fear is that I have wasted hours of my life to humor my friend's delusion. My fear is that people can with a straight face disdain the masterwork that is RE4 and refer to this as the golden age of horror.
The 'purists' can suck toes; I can see now that Resident Evil 4's style of play does not take a bold step away from the series' roots, but, for the first time, takes a bold step toward them. Resident Evil 4 accomplishes what every game in the series has been tripping over itself trying to accomplish. Every concept I experienced in the original (and in the prequel, which I played but am not discussing due to finding it identical to the original) is present in 4 and vice versa: the stock and space management, the style of 'horror' they shoot for, the enemies, the familiar plot, the characters, every element that RE had always shot for is present with all their lofty targets struck dead-on, just with all the rotting, grimy detritus stripped away from the gameplay and hung about the monsters and environments where it belongs. I dream of a day when Silent Hill can claim such a heretic among its ranks!
I don't really know what to make of it. Differ'nt strokes fer differ'nt fokes, I guess. Of course, I haven't yet really dragged the long and short of my co-worker's opinion of Silent Hill out of him, and I guess that's the other half to this story. I'm beginning to suspect, however, that this may have all been an elaborate trick of his, and that when he felt such a powerful distaste for my game he convinced me to partake in the ultimate shame of not only playing an awful game, but of playing it on the Gamecube. But the joke's on him because, having already bought and beaten Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, I fhave already accepted my irrevocable status as a filthy, filthy whore and do not have any lower to fall. HA. HA. HA.