I want to preface this by saying that survival horror (and really, horror in general) is a bit of a blind spot for me. I've played very few survival horror games and the ones I have played are often left unfinished. This isn't for any particular reason, though it's rare these games get their hooks in me. I did finish Signalis, and I did enjoy myself, but I fear what's going to be said in the latter paragraphs may be sacrilegious for fans of the genre, so I apologise in advance.
Signalis is its vibes. While I played this game in widescreen on my Steam Deck, part of me wonders if the experience could have been even better squashed onto a CRT TV, enhancing the analogue aspect of all the game's interacables. Interfacing with this game is a delight. Its menus and puzzles would fit right at home on the Nintendo DS, which is to say it's all incredibly tangible. From basic features like being able to rotate items in your inventory to the rather innovative radio and a whole host of locks across the game requiring you to adapt to unique control sets in order to open. This is rather typical of the genre, but the ones in Signalis just felt that much more authentic and creative.
Everything about this game's visual style is strong, though. A beautiful low-poly look meshes effortlessly with an advanced lighing engine and extremely detailed pixel art to create something that's distinctly "Signalis". This isn't to mention the use of 'glitchy' visuals that ties the whole thing together. It's pulled off immaculately and enhances what I found to be a confusing yet gripping story about love. There's a lot to absorb in this world and I found certain pieces of lore interesting, though much of it was glazed over. I respect the basic delivery of information through text logs, but whenever the game decided to display information in other formats, I found myself engaging with the content actively.
The game's best portions, used very sparingly, were first-person explorations of low detail environments which appeared to stretch on forever. It was just you and the atmosphere, which was all good by me. These short moments were a much needed break from the rest of the game, which often chugs along like a busted steam train. The gunplay works, the systems work, the puzzles are often great, and the areas are decent, though lacking in diversity. The kicker, then, is how bored I'd get. Enemies lost their fear factor mere minutes after meeting them, instead becoming awkward obstacles to stumble around. Perhaps this is actually just a level of narrative dissonance I'm failing to appreciate, but the enemies felt even more artificial than the machines you save the game on. Detection is sketchy, with foes often unable to pick up on me even as I brushed past their arm. When alerted, they slowly lunge towards you, and it wasn't long before I realised how to adequately bait them. This would be fine if this was the most common enemy type, but most of them work like this, even as you advance through the final levels. There's no life to them, you leave a room and they revert to exactly where you left them. Some enemies patrol rooms, which makes it a pain to open a door, see the enemy is in the wrong spot, back out, wait a little bit and try again. The ability to peek through doors would have remedied this immensely, but it wouldn't have stopped the game's main source of horror boiling down to tedium.
Without spoiling too much, there's one type of enemy I loved, and I felt my heart race as I figured out how to deal with it. The game needed more moments like this, encounters that will stick with you, haunt you, long after putting the game down. Signalis isn't scary, there's an existentialism to the story that I appreciated, but nothing unsettling enough to keep you up at night. Maybe this was an issue of expectations, but this was where I found the game most lacking. The dread I felt meeting my first Licker in RE2, followed by surprise attacks from Mr X at seemingly random intervals. Instead, I settled into a rhythm that the game seemed hesitant to interrupt. It's occasionally fun, especially one of the boss fights (I hate the others), but I'm left wondering why they couldn't have removed half of the enemies, and half of the ammunition; and thusly, half the backtracking, which didn't grate on me too much but was a consistent irritation regardless.
I'll remember this game for its vibes alone, and that's sometimes enough for me. But the bones of a masterpiece are here, and I know that some people were able to see that. I wish I could alter my perception and see exactly what they see, but for now I'll settle for a great, spooky time.
Signalis is its vibes. While I played this game in widescreen on my Steam Deck, part of me wonders if the experience could have been even better squashed onto a CRT TV, enhancing the analogue aspect of all the game's interacables. Interfacing with this game is a delight. Its menus and puzzles would fit right at home on the Nintendo DS, which is to say it's all incredibly tangible. From basic features like being able to rotate items in your inventory to the rather innovative radio and a whole host of locks across the game requiring you to adapt to unique control sets in order to open. This is rather typical of the genre, but the ones in Signalis just felt that much more authentic and creative.
Everything about this game's visual style is strong, though. A beautiful low-poly look meshes effortlessly with an advanced lighing engine and extremely detailed pixel art to create something that's distinctly "Signalis". This isn't to mention the use of 'glitchy' visuals that ties the whole thing together. It's pulled off immaculately and enhances what I found to be a confusing yet gripping story about love. There's a lot to absorb in this world and I found certain pieces of lore interesting, though much of it was glazed over. I respect the basic delivery of information through text logs, but whenever the game decided to display information in other formats, I found myself engaging with the content actively.
The game's best portions, used very sparingly, were first-person explorations of low detail environments which appeared to stretch on forever. It was just you and the atmosphere, which was all good by me. These short moments were a much needed break from the rest of the game, which often chugs along like a busted steam train. The gunplay works, the systems work, the puzzles are often great, and the areas are decent, though lacking in diversity. The kicker, then, is how bored I'd get. Enemies lost their fear factor mere minutes after meeting them, instead becoming awkward obstacles to stumble around. Perhaps this is actually just a level of narrative dissonance I'm failing to appreciate, but the enemies felt even more artificial than the machines you save the game on. Detection is sketchy, with foes often unable to pick up on me even as I brushed past their arm. When alerted, they slowly lunge towards you, and it wasn't long before I realised how to adequately bait them. This would be fine if this was the most common enemy type, but most of them work like this, even as you advance through the final levels. There's no life to them, you leave a room and they revert to exactly where you left them. Some enemies patrol rooms, which makes it a pain to open a door, see the enemy is in the wrong spot, back out, wait a little bit and try again. The ability to peek through doors would have remedied this immensely, but it wouldn't have stopped the game's main source of horror boiling down to tedium.
Without spoiling too much, there's one type of enemy I loved, and I felt my heart race as I figured out how to deal with it. The game needed more moments like this, encounters that will stick with you, haunt you, long after putting the game down. Signalis isn't scary, there's an existentialism to the story that I appreciated, but nothing unsettling enough to keep you up at night. Maybe this was an issue of expectations, but this was where I found the game most lacking. The dread I felt meeting my first Licker in RE2, followed by surprise attacks from Mr X at seemingly random intervals. Instead, I settled into a rhythm that the game seemed hesitant to interrupt. It's occasionally fun, especially one of the boss fights (I hate the others), but I'm left wondering why they couldn't have removed half of the enemies, and half of the ammunition; and thusly, half the backtracking, which didn't grate on me too much but was a consistent irritation regardless.
I'll remember this game for its vibes alone, and that's sometimes enough for me. But the bones of a masterpiece are here, and I know that some people were able to see that. I wish I could alter my perception and see exactly what they see, but for now I'll settle for a great, spooky time.