Some thoughts regarding Silent Hill Downpour
Getting up at 3am for work is never a recipe for focussed and cogent thought, but it does seem to result in getting down some rabbit holes. On this occasion, after feeling an overwhelming desire to know what A Lyke Wake Dirge would sound like done in the style of Pookiesnackenburger (for the record, Alisdair Reynolds' version is my personal favourite) and weighing up whether or not to pursue a change of setting in an absurdist comedy script-in-progress because it feels like a repurposed shipwreck might provide more fertile ground than a haunted theatre, I got to thinking about Silent Hill Downpour for a bit.
This game gives me some very mixed feelings; overall, I'd come down on the side of being fond of it, there's definitely a lot to love here but there's a near-equal measure of things that are frustrating about it. I guess the one-word summary would be "undercooked". It's got a lot of potential, and the green shoots of some really interesting ideas, but the scope feels too broad, it's spread very thin and precious little about it feels fully realised, which is a shame. I'm not sure that I'd go back and take another run at it (not least because the PS3 died a while back - R.I.P. Kerberos) but I do still think about it quite often, so clearly it made an impression, and that's what I'm going to ramble about today.
Kicking off on a positive, the game starts strong with some really evocative and cinematic opening scenes, which efficiently introduce a few key characters, vague enough to catch our interest and keep us wondering, and they're set to some lovely, moody pieces of music (I'm particularly keen on this track, from the prison transfer scene.) The soundtrack in this game doesn't feel traditionally Silent Hill-ish, but I don't mind that too much because it's still appealing, just in a different way. Where your traditional SH music has a close and 'enveloping' mood (for lack of less frou-frou language), Downpour's music feels more cold, stony and cavernous. One of my favourite tracks, incidentally, occurs during combat - a rhythmic little number with military drums and gentle bells involved; turns out it's only a 25-second loop, which I'm gutted about because that tune, as a recurring motif in a much longer, ambient(ish) track with that spooky atmosphere, would be sublime. Of the more 'complete' tracks; I would definitely recommend In the Ravine, for its compelling atmosphere and that deliciously sombre piano. Mmm!
Murphy is an endearing protagonist and that feels odd to say, given that he's introduced to us briefly, then when we take control, it's in a scene where's he's kicking the fuck out of some other bloke in prison (turns out later that he has justification for leathering this other individual, so make of that what you will.)
Over the course of the journey, we get insights into his character in some subtle and natural ways, such as when he's scoping out a car with great interest; he's equal parts planning an escape and genuinely interested in cars - it's a simple thing but little moments like this help to flesh out a character without awkwardly shoehorning in details. This pleasing approach to character development continues in how Murphy notes down objectives in his book; here he shares his thoughts and some details about his past with us, again without derailing the flow of the narrative, we can take in all this information completely at our own pace. From his intermittent remarks, we can also glean that he's easily distracted, judging by his reaction to a lengthy sprawl of a puzzle where he picks up various paintings around the town and builds up a map out of them. He says, upon finding several of these paintings, "It's another piece of the map" and similar statements; then upon finishing the map and seeing the end result, he sounds genuinely surprised and says "It's a map!!!" Really, Murphy? Could've sworn he'd established that several times previously, but yeah, you do you, my friend.
The environment design here is beautifully done, even taking into account the awkward, muddy, PS3-era graphics; there are lots of locations that are surprisingly pleasant. The Devil's Pit mine for example, we're introduced to under a wash of golden hour light, and the park in town which is just plain sublime - a quiet area with winding paths and lots of trees and plants, drenched in dreamy blue-tinged fog, it's lovely, albeit in a run-down sort of way. The historical society building is partly damaged and we see trees having crashed through windows, presumably felled in storms, with shafts of moonlight shining around the branches - the environmental storytelling there is a joy. There's some meticulous worldbuilding afoot here, with references to other games in the series and their contributions to the background of Silent Hill, as well as some freshly baked town lore rolls to enjoy; it's clearly done with love, it's a good bit of fun to nosey 'round all this information and spot the references when they turn up.
Of course, another real treat here is that we can visit Henry's flat as well. This likewise shows some delicious attention to detail. Of note, there's an additional door past the bedroom and bathroom, located where Henry bashes through a wall, leading into the previously sealed-off room, containing some Horrors (spoilers there for a game that's old enough to drink at this point...) and a couple pieces of furniture are missing, possibly for ease of navigation in-game, but I like to imagine that when Henry left (because who would stick around after dealing with all that?!), then he absconded with the table and the sideboard in a huff. I'm absolutely on board with Henry being a precious gentle spring breeze 'n' all, but that chap needs to show a bit of flexibility and learn to put his foot down every once in a while, dammit!
Where Downpour falls short is that it's just not particularly scary at all. Granted, I don't scare easily in general but the overall atmosphere here, as mentioned previously, just feels too thin. Artistically, it's just not weird enough, but I don't mean full-on The Mars Volta, "the kiosk in my temporal lobe is shaped like Rosalynn Carter" kind of weird, it's a more subtle strangeness that's lacking here. It's hard to really put into words but there's a shifting balance between normality and strangeness in earlier Silent Hill games that gives them a particular liminal atmosphere and a feeling of uncertainty, and that provides the foundation for genuinely effective psychological horror. Looking again at SH4 for example, coming back to Henry's flat: it starts out reasonably normal, barring the chained door, followed by the hole in the bathroom wall. As the game progresses, that normality is gradually encroached upon by more and more little moments of surrealism that undermine that feeling of security and make it feel all the more unsettling, right up until it becomes actively haunted in the latter half of the game. Even once you've expunged the hauntings, it no longer feels like a safe place, owing to the oppressive silence, darkness and the knowledge that there's inevitably going to be more fucking hauntings - the slow-burning subversion works brilliantly there. The tightrope walk between normality and otherworldliness in Downpour just feels a bit too jagged, in hindsight. Sometimes these sudden shifts in tone can and do work, but yeah, it's a bit hit-and-miss here. Some of the attempts at scares are just too cheesy and colour-by-numbers for my taste, but that's a matter of personal preference, really.
There are some really interesting and creative ideas rattling about here, though; I love that the rainfall, gradually developing into full-blown storms, causes monsters to come out in their droves and to behave more aggressively. You have the option to seek shelter in buildings and this is handled nicely, with buildings that you can enter being indicated with inviting yellow light shining in front of the doorways; it's a subtle way of guiding the player and it does give it that particularly comfy feeling of getting out of the rain. The buildings around the town are run-down and abandoned, but they provide a welcome relief from getting soaked and hassled by monsters.
When the Otherworld is done well, it's excellent, and it genuinely makes me wish this game had a photo mode because wow, just wow. The twisted interior of the clock tower is a stunning affair with grandiose, aggressively vertiginous mechanisms and colossal clock faces making a strong impression - it's lavish, frankly over-the-top, and it's bloody gorgeous. It's one of the real highlights of the game, to my mind. (Sod's law, I forgot to nab any pictures there, evidently too busy gawking at things... and trying not to get caught out in various traps.) Likewise, the Otherworld in the monastery offers up some more delicious environment design (and more gorgeous music!); its bleak, dark and really evocative. This a great example of those moments when the colours, lighting, layout and dressing of the environments work to build tension quietly in the background. There are decaying, claustrophobic stairwells and an uneasy balance between the worn old stone of the monastery and the familiar rusted industrial gratings. When we reach a vast, darkened hall, it's here that we have a lovely puzzle involving bells, a chandelier, ceremonial candles and optical illusions, which offers a pleasant break from the following bone of contention...
Oh, the chase sequences! These feel a bit too erratic and chaotic to really 'work', partly due to technical issues like incredibly choppy framerate and sound glitches that really break immersion (to be fair, this could've been partly down to my machine being on its last legs at the time.) This is a matter of personal preference, of course. I'm personally a salt mine about chase sequences directly as a result of Shattered Memories; the detective work and puzzles in that game were a delight, but I hit an impasse with it during one of the chase sequences (the one involving the photo puzzle in the school), couldn't get past it no matter how much care and patience I sank into it, and I deeply resent admitting defeat. And frankly, given the raw dearth of interesting games for the PSP, it's doubly frustrating to encounter such a fucking massive roadblock in one of the precious few things that felt worthwhile on that machine.
Likewise, the side quests don't do it for me - I'd personally prefer less clutter in favour of a more focussed and nuanced treatment of the main plot. Had the story been handled with more confidence, maybe I would've been warmer towards the presence of these additional threads, but as it is, it comes across like another thing that reflects that broader issue with this game just feeling a bit wishy-washy. Maybe the inclusion of side quests was put in there to keep up with expectations of game mechanics of the time, but just putting stuff in there because it's de rigueur more often than not results in things feeling awkward and shoehorned in where they don't belong, like that fucking cover shooter bit at the end of The Evil Within 2 (in the words of Billy Connolly: "FUCK OFF. JUST FUCK OFF.") To be fair, these extra bits aren't quite as awkward as that but they just don't really add anything substantial to the story - even the rewards for completing these tasks, if you get anything at all, are a bit lacklustre. Just some resources or some posh togs if you're lucky, and that's your lot.
One of the big things about the storytelling that grinds my gears here is how Bobby's strand of the plot is handled. We receive numerous messages from this bloke through various radios scattered throughout the town, and he gives us this lovely line about Murphy being a "lost soul on a stroll" (10/10, no notes). His tone is initially bright and breezy, a proper full-on local radio DJ but if you stick around to hear what follows, he's covertly trying to reach someone, whispering under the cover of the songs, clearly in need of assistance. Bobby's never seen Murphy but is aware that he's there, and it raises an interesting question re: how many other opportunities he's had to reach out to people, and to think of the frustration of being trapped, possessing the knowledge and the means to scarper, being presented with possibly numerous opportunities to escape, if only he could succeed in reaching someone who could help him. It's an interesting dichotomy that builds up significance for, and an emotional connection with, his character; we have an ally somewhere, we just have to find him, lend him a hand and then the Dream Team can zip off into the sunset, surely!
Alas, this is not the case. When we finally meet Bobby, he's on-screen for all of about 30 seconds at a stretch; he explains his situation in one foul swoop, then he just disappears after some monsters show up out of nowhere. We don't get to know what happens to him in-game; if that's all you know of the story, then he's just gone without ceremony and all that build-up basically amounts to a half-hearted nudge onto your next destination. Like many a supporting character in many a horror game over the decades, our man there just got raw cannon-foddered, quite possibly ending the bromance of the century before it even got started and I am incensed at the lack of substantial payoff and impact with this plot point.
Bobby's fate is only revealed to us in a comic on the side, and it feels like an absolute swizz, frankly. I can understand ancillary media providing different perspectives on the story (in this case, the comic focusses of Anne's side of the story, which fills in the blanks between her erratic on-screen appearances), but I feel like given the build-up with Bobby's character and his role in the story, then we should've been given at least a bit more of his arc and have it wrapped up as part of the main story. Likewise, Anne should've been afforded more connective tissue on-screen as well; not so much as to hold the audience's hand (I deeply resent that approach), but at least enough to see that she's on a journey of her own, and not just turning up whenever it's convenient to progress Murphy's story. Like a lot of other things in this game, these aspects of the storytelling just feel sadly underdeveloped.
Onto the next grumble: The enemy design is, frankly, lacklustre. Now, granted, as a general rule, I'm not all that fussed about monsters in video games; most of the time they're just something that's there to get the fuck kicked out of them, but here they really are just too normal (and a bit silly) for their presence to be genuinely impactful. Most of them are just one step off being regular people gadding about in last-minute Halloween costumes, and the piss-poor combat mechanics just add insult to injury, really. Skirmishes tend to feel awkward, sloppy and weightless, getting a good crack in is a matter of more luck than judgment half the time, and the way weapons are implemented here is a washout.
This was meant to be a badass action shot but the 'monster' just looks like he's going "Ayyyy!" for the camera and Murphy is going "Fuck off."
I'm personally a fan of an uncluttered and feral approach to combat, like The Callisto Protocol is a good example of my personal platonic ideal of monster-kicking, with melee combat being a genuinely viable option (and a really fun one at that), a new weapon every so often feeling like a satisfying reward for making progress in the game and if you absolutely must go in for weapon upgrades and/or skill trees, then keep it simple. In Downpour, the melee weapons are breakable (your mileage may vary but I'm not a fan of that at all), and guns are just scattered about the place with neither rhyme nor reason; if you're so inclined, you can just lob a gun off to one side once it's out of ammo, like an absolute litterbug. It's all quite meaningless and unrewarding. You can also find intermittent objects like bricks and bottles to throw, and on one occasion, I did get a good laugh having launched a brick at a Weeping Albino and hitting it right in the junk, so that was a plus. Murphy bricked it in the dick!
Anyway. Castrating the local fauna aside, between the enemies and the weapons system, the combat experience just winds up feeling - you guessed it - diluted, and quite frustrating. It's worth noting that there is a karma system in the background here, and killing too many enemies will cause Murphy to end up with bad karma, affecting the ending you receive. That's another strand where this game lacks depth and feels frustratingly didactic.
According to the storytelling in Downpour, Revenge = Bad; it's a very doormat kind of messaging - there's not much in the way of careful consideration that might invite the audience to reflect on moral grey areas here, barring one line of dialogue that hints at Murphy still having to deal with the burden of his loss, even though he's gone to great lengths to exact revenge after his son was murdered. That's an entirely fair observation and all, but the messy, human aspect of the situation, the need for closure and/or catharsis and the long-term difficulties of dealing with grief don't get much time in the spotlight here, and the lack of balance feels quite tone-deaf.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately, in part down to reading several Pierre Lemaitre novels in a row; All Human Wisdom in particular shows us a tale of revenge in a much more nuanced light, with several threads of the plot centred around this theme. The novel does deal with a lot of moral grey areas, as our protagonist, Madeleine, resorts to underhanded methods to carry out her plans, but she's in a desperate situation, and it's understandable that she'd be pushed to such extremes. Her story shows that sometimes, exacting revenge is necessary to find peace, for yourself and for others. Minor spoilers, but there are common themes afoot here; in Madeleine's case, she's been struggling with feeling that she's failed in protecting her son and likewise, Paul has been struggling with trauma that no child should ever have to live with. Here, it entirely makes sense that Madeleine would seek revenge on Paul's abuser; she's not just putting her own mind at ease, she wants to ensure safety and security for her child as well.
Coming back to the enemies, the Bogeyman does appeal to me; he's not even remotely scary, his breezeblock hammer is just plain goofy and his intended symbolism is painfully heavy-handed but owing to eyesight problems, I did initially (right up until reading a written description of his appearance) think that he was some kind of weirdly adorable towering swamp-ghost-esque creature, also a bit reminiscent of the witch from The Pogles - I can't be the only person who is seeing a resemblance here! Also he does emerge from a lake at one point, which further fuelled my off-kilter interpretation of him. Turns out he's just some proper built geezer in mining gear and a gas mask... but in my heart, he will always be a swamp ghoul.
In conclusion... I'm having a hard time thinking of what to write in conclusion; see previous point re: being up since 3am. That is not good for people. But yes, grumbling aside, Silent Hill Downpour does have treats to offer in terms of enjoyable exploration, plenty of charm, satisfying puzzle design in places and compelling worldbuilding. I just wish it was bolstered by a more concentrated, thoughtful approach to its narrative and at the very least serviceable combat. To finish up, thank you for your patience, if indeed you've read this far, and I'll leave you with this spooky interior.
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