I often find myself on the positive end of divisive media's reception. I think this is because I try to see the best in things and always attempt to meet art on its own terms, not mine. Provided the divisiveness is not borne of a reprehensible moral or political idea, then I'm usually happy to go along with whatever experimental, abrasive, confusing idea a piece of art is willing to put forward. It's with this mindset that I found myself diving headfirst into Silent Hill 4: The Room with open arms. Beloved and derided, I was hopeful that I'd once again find myself siding with the game's fans. Disappointingly, I merely liked and respected The Room while not totally loving it, and before the midpoint I actually somewhat disliked it.
The Room's core concept was immediately intriguing to me. Trapped in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, invisible to the outside world, themes of social isolation, anxiety, and resultant voyeuristic tendencies are expressed wonderfully. There's enough variation to what can be seen and heard, the sound mixing is eerily up-front and non-naturalistic in that classic Silent Hill style, and the room's function as both the only save point and an unlimited health source encourages repeated returns from the nightmare realms, which is an annoying gameplay quirk but one which undeniably bolsters the theme of anxiety, wanting nothing more than to return to the familiar at all times. The idea of being a prisoner within one's own home is made literal then taken to new extremes, and I have no serious complaints with the execution.
The nightmare realms themselves on the other hand... Look, I like to think I've demonstrated, in the example of the overly-incentivised trips back to the titular Room, that if something seems a bit shit I'm not just going to write it off. Especially with something as subtle as Silent Hill, I'm going to take a step back and think "ok, why is it doing this? What's the meaning being produced here?" However, after a frustrating opening subway section where unkillable "ghosts" jankily flew around while occasionally getting in my way, and where men emerged from walls to knock me down an escalator at seemingly random intervals, I found myself in a forest. It's night, but the forest is well-lit. The area is broken up into large square clearings, most of which have nothing to find. The forest is populated with zombie-like dogs, who also appeared as enemies in the subway, and at this stage I'm really starting to notice the stock big-cat-snarl sound effect they produce each time they attack. It's at the point where I'm running door-to-door through a well-lit forest as dogs that sound like cougars nip at my heels that a voice sounds in my head: "this is shit". NO! It's abrasive, it's subversive! "It's not abrasive. It's not subversive. It's just shit".
Unfortunately, while the core concept of The Room is beautifully realised and totally original, the places where standard Silent Hill gameplay occurs are shockingly undercooked, especially at first. Things do improve with later areas, and all areas benefit greatly from their revisits after the midgame switch-up - suddenly, a couple of significant mechanical changes transform the game into a genuinely compelling and challenging survival-horror experience - but the lack of polish in game-design and atmosphere is pervasive, rearing its head even in the game's best areas.
While I've praised the thematic elements as expressed through The Room's titular concept, I'm less convinced of the interaction between them and the core story, which once again explores the cult of Silent Hill. Silent Hill 3 simultaneously explored the personal psychological horror of its teenage protagonist and the cult horror of the first game, and successfully synthesised them by aligning the cult's goals with the protagonist's fear of burgeoning fertility. The connection between the protagonist and antagonist of Silent Hill 4 seem more superficial to me. There's definitely something there, but it's not really landing as it should.
Overall I liked Silent Hill 4: The Room. It succeeds in treading new ground for the series, all while fucking up in areas prior games had totally nailed. The second half has it fucking up a whole lot less, and took the game from like a 5/10 to a 7/10, but the damage done in those early areas keep Silent Hill 4 well outside the realm of quality the first three titles achieved.
The Room's core concept was immediately intriguing to me. Trapped in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, invisible to the outside world, themes of social isolation, anxiety, and resultant voyeuristic tendencies are expressed wonderfully. There's enough variation to what can be seen and heard, the sound mixing is eerily up-front and non-naturalistic in that classic Silent Hill style, and the room's function as both the only save point and an unlimited health source encourages repeated returns from the nightmare realms, which is an annoying gameplay quirk but one which undeniably bolsters the theme of anxiety, wanting nothing more than to return to the familiar at all times. The idea of being a prisoner within one's own home is made literal then taken to new extremes, and I have no serious complaints with the execution.
The nightmare realms themselves on the other hand... Look, I like to think I've demonstrated, in the example of the overly-incentivised trips back to the titular Room, that if something seems a bit shit I'm not just going to write it off. Especially with something as subtle as Silent Hill, I'm going to take a step back and think "ok, why is it doing this? What's the meaning being produced here?" However, after a frustrating opening subway section where unkillable "ghosts" jankily flew around while occasionally getting in my way, and where men emerged from walls to knock me down an escalator at seemingly random intervals, I found myself in a forest. It's night, but the forest is well-lit. The area is broken up into large square clearings, most of which have nothing to find. The forest is populated with zombie-like dogs, who also appeared as enemies in the subway, and at this stage I'm really starting to notice the stock big-cat-snarl sound effect they produce each time they attack. It's at the point where I'm running door-to-door through a well-lit forest as dogs that sound like cougars nip at my heels that a voice sounds in my head: "this is shit". NO! It's abrasive, it's subversive! "It's not abrasive. It's not subversive. It's just shit".
Unfortunately, while the core concept of The Room is beautifully realised and totally original, the places where standard Silent Hill gameplay occurs are shockingly undercooked, especially at first. Things do improve with later areas, and all areas benefit greatly from their revisits after the midgame switch-up - suddenly, a couple of significant mechanical changes transform the game into a genuinely compelling and challenging survival-horror experience - but the lack of polish in game-design and atmosphere is pervasive, rearing its head even in the game's best areas.
While I've praised the thematic elements as expressed through The Room's titular concept, I'm less convinced of the interaction between them and the core story, which once again explores the cult of Silent Hill. Silent Hill 3 simultaneously explored the personal psychological horror of its teenage protagonist and the cult horror of the first game, and successfully synthesised them by aligning the cult's goals with the protagonist's fear of burgeoning fertility. The connection between the protagonist and antagonist of Silent Hill 4 seem more superficial to me. There's definitely something there, but it's not really landing as it should.
Overall I liked Silent Hill 4: The Room. It succeeds in treading new ground for the series, all while fucking up in areas prior games had totally nailed. The second half has it fucking up a whole lot less, and took the game from like a 5/10 to a 7/10, but the damage done in those early areas keep Silent Hill 4 well outside the realm of quality the first three titles achieved.