Survival horror games traditionally thrive on fiendish problem solving, forcing the player to pierce through a fog of adrenaline and fear to defeat the conundrums that bar his path. Saw PointĪll of which is exacerbated by the ill health in which we find the game's puzzles. But here the designers have increased the incidence of the scraps, putting a strain on your patience with the repetitive dust-ups.
This simplicity was never an issue in previous games where encounters were infrequent and their crude brutality suited the everyday feel of the characters. One button is used to mindlessly smash your enemy with whatever implement comes to Heather’s hand, be it a steel pipe or the incongruous medieval spiked mace, as well as to fire the odd gun you get your hands on. And as you apply your boot to their brains and they lie twitching on the floor, you'll feel not a jot of remorse - these things don't deserve to live, dammit!Ĭombat in Silent Hill games has never been a matter of finesse.
Slavering, jabbering, chattering fiend after fiend lumbers from the shadows, yet another incredible distortion of nature to test your credulity. All kinds of fleshy appendages protrude from grossly misshapen hides.
Destroy All Monsters!Ī hallmark of the Silent Hill series are some of the most disgusting and bizarre aberrations of nature that ever wore the title of 'monsters’. Creative use of camera angles, subtle perversions of everyday sights and a nervegrinding score all contribute to the impression that what you’re playing is the brain-child of David Lynch and George A. more hideous assailant might stumble at any minute.
Heather’s feeble pocket torch struggles to strip away the inky blackness, out of which a new. From the freaky fairground of Heather's nightmare to the dilapidated tenement blocks of Silent Hill itself, the mood of impending doom seldom relents. This system is well in need of an overhaul and lends the game a slightly antiquated feel.ĭespite such misgivings, you still soon find yourself drawn into SH3's particularly unnerving world, largely because of its uniquely disquieting atmosphere. the controls are hardly a joy as the 'rotate and move’ system is about as innovative these days as Tupperware. A mouse and keyboard combo is clumsy, nigh-on ruining the gameplay. Helping Heather make sense of her new surroundings is best done with a GamePad, mimicking the original console game control method. Of course, all of this is done under the watchful glare of a host of creatures - both lesser minions and boss monsters - that have to be shot, stabbed and beaten into a bloody pulp if you are to survive. Finding the items necessary is a matter of walking up to anything that looks unusual and hitting action to search it. Much wandering and map reading typically leads to a puzzle or a locked door barring your way. She takes refuge in the toilets, but when she emerges Heather finds the mall has turned into a trans-dimensional vision of hell, populated by a menagerie of bizarre mutants. After waking up from an horrendous nightmare, a man harasses her in the local mall. This time out the lead character is Heather, an everyday skinny teenage girl in obligatory short skirt and high boots (this is a Japanese game, after all). But, somewhat disappointingly, neither will it surprise with its near-identical gameplay and slightly uninspired approach to puzzle solving. And this latest offering, migrating over from the PS2, will not disappoint in the 'that sure is some crazy shit’ stakes. So when Silent Hill 3 takes this frightening scenario and throws in hideous gibbering demons, wall-to-wall blood and grime, and a nightmarish caterwauling din piping through the Tannoy, you can imagine it’s not pretty.īut such twisting of familiar situations into grotesque parodies of their earthly selves will be nothing new to fans of the Silent Hill series, quite probably the most gloriously deranged of all survival horror games.
Coffee shops full of people acting like they’re in Friends, faceless fastfood joints, the words 'have a nice day’ ringing in your ears. Dreary American shopping malls are ungodly hellholes at the best of times.