In Third Person

A personal look into video games, the video game industry and video game culture.

Image from Legendary Hackers

Despite all the negative things I've said about Silent Hill: Homecoming over these last few posts, I was ready to let all that slide. I was already over half way done the game, and I thought I could put up with the game's faults for a few more hours for the sake of completing it. That will never happen now. Or ever.

In my last Silent Hill post, I said I would continue playing it until the game committed a heinous act against fun. It just did.


I played the game for about half an hour just now, and I got to the puzzle pictured above. The only picture I could find was of the completed puzzle. When you start out, the pieces are all scrambled and you have to slide them around the space to create that emblem. No big deal, right? These types of puzzles have been in thousands of video games before, and can usually be beaten if you slide the pieces around enough. Not this time. I tried it over and over again, but there was one piece in particular that would be stuck on the opposite end of the board. I normally don't have the patience for these types of puzzles in games, so the moment I get stuck, I hit a guide.

To my horror, the very first step in every guide I found said to move the double block in the top right hand corner one space to the left. I looked at my screen and realized that my screen didn't have a double block in that position. I watched video solutions on YouTube and realized that my blocks were laid out completely differently from what everybody else got.

Dude, what?

So in fact, the puzzle the game gave me really was impossible to beat. I did more research on this, and apparently I'm not alone. This IGN forum user ran into the exact same problem as me. The only solution for her? Restart the game from the last save point. In this GameSpot thread, user peetowser said he wasted 3 hours of his life trying to solve this glitched puzzle until he realized it was broken. When he reloaded it, it worked fine. For those forum users, maybe their tolerance towards the game's deficiencies are higher than mine. But for me, this game ends right here. I've been force-feeding this experience to myself since the beginning, and if the game requires me to go back 30 minutes into the game just so the puzzle pieces can reset, it can go to hell. I am not giving that game any more of my time.

Even if I pass that, there's a chance that the game's next set of puzzles might glitch out for them too, just like it did for these people. Just like with Fight Night Round 4, I refuse to support games that are broken to the point that they actually prevent you from finishing them. I don't have any immediate plans on checking out any of the other entries in the Silent Hill series, but if they're as janky as this, I'll dedicate my gaming time towards other things.

Image from Kotaku

When it comes to video games, it's very easy to figure out what to do with games that are clearly good and games that are clearly bad. A good game will not let you go until you've squeezed every last bit of the experience out of it, while a bad game will eat at your soul until you get rid of it. But what are we to do with mediocre games? The games that aren't bad, but aren't necessarily good, either?

The last time I wrote about Silent Hill: Homecoming, I had some good things to say about it and a number of criticisms as well. The post ended on a very negative note. Despite the things I disliked about the game, I did go back to play it again. I wanted to be able to definitively back up my negative feelings towards the game and let it collect dust on my shelf once and for all. The problem is...it got kind of good. The scenarios I was playing through were interesting enough to keep me pacing forward, even though I'm still not sure exactly what the story to this game is. I played some more, until I felt like I was done for the day.

Unfortunately for me, this is when a new problem arose. I got to a stretch in the game that did not offer a checkpoint to save. I said to myself, "OK, I'll just play to the next checkpoint." I wouldn't actually get to the next checkpoint for another hour. Games made in this day and age that have such disparate save points should die in a fire. I was ready to let this game go when I decided to check a strategy guide, just to see how far I had made it through the game. "Damn it!" I said to myself. "I'm half way through."

Image from IGN

I've only been playing this game for about four hours. At this moment, what's another four hours? I could still get to experience what is good about this game, if I can bear with its weaknesses. There are also achievement points to be had, which seem to be coming at a decent rate. Ultimately though, I should be playing games because their fun, right? And there are definitely other games I could play that would be more fun. But maybe this game will be fun enough for the four more hours I'll need to beat it.

Maybe I'm just a game snob, but I don't like having to think about whether or not I want to continue playing a game. If it's good, I'll keep going. If it's not, forget it. But when you play a mediocre game and already have invested some time in it, the choice of whether or not to play it gets murkier than it really should.

So what am I to do with Silent Hill: Homecoming? I have decided to play it through to the end on two conditions. One, I will only play from one checkpoint to another. I don't ever want to get stuck want to quit between checkpoints ever again, and I won't know when the next one will arrive. The other condition? If this game commits another heinous crime against fun, then I'll bury it once and for all.

Image from IGN

Last time I spoke about Silent Hill: Homecoming, I focused mainly on how freaked out the game made me. It took a lot of will from within for me to overcome my psychological shortcomings to get through that opening sequence. As a survival horror game, I thought it started out really well.

Unfortunately, my mental fortitude hasn't been pushed nearly as hard since. Part of that has come from growing familiar with the world. But most of my growing weariness towards the game comes from the game's design faults and squandered potential.

I guess before I talk about the game it could have been, let me preface this post by saying that I'm still far from finishing it. I've only gotten to the Grand Hotel, which should be enough of an indicator for those that have played it and not enough of a spoiler for those that haven't. Also, let's start by talking about what I think is still good about the game.

Image from IGN

Sound-wise, this game is spectacular. The music is appropriately haunting all the time. During action moments, it does a wonderful job of making your toes curl in fear. On the other hand, during down-time, the game's music does just enough to make you not feel comfortable. Sound effects are also equally appropriate at accomplishing tension. I consistently get freaked out when I walk into a random object in the world and hear it fall over. For a game released in 2008, the visuals hold up fairly well, particularly during the "nightmare" segments. The visual filters do a great job if making the game look "gritty".

It's past that where the game really begins to unravel. When I got past the "nightmare" segment and into the desolate city, the world of Shepherd's Glen and Silent Hill so far come off as boring rather than creepy. A lot of the tension is lost when you're walking around a foggy and plain-looking city.

I enjoy the game's more "traditional" approach to survival horror, but it also takes with it some really annoying design elements. I hate having to wander around each and every inch of the world, constantly hitting the "A" button to make sure I don't miss an item. If I were in the shoes of the character, there's no way I would be carefully scouring through my environment looking for stuff. I'd be doing everything I could to get the heck out of there. Due to the nature of the world's and how the developers want to lead the player down a certain path, there are a number of locked doors and closed off pathways. This wouldn't be a problem if the game wasn't designed to be explored. In turn, this forces the player to check every single door in the game, of which 80% of them are "locked" or "jammed" or whatever other excuse the game gives you for not letting you go beyond the door.

Image from IGN

None of this though is as offensive as the game's fundamentally-flawed and arguably broken combat. In any survival horror game, the biggest fear you should have as a player is physical fear. The fear that something or someone is going to kill you. However, the moment your health is in danger, all you can think of as a player is, "Crap, I need to go through this combat junk."

The basics of how combat works is that the majority of your confrontations are (to this point in the game) one-on-one affairs. You hold the left trigger to lock onto your enemy, then you have the choice of attacking with a quick or strong attack. The problem with the trigger is that it doesn't always center the camera or your guy to the bad guy. I've had the game both not center the camera on the bad guy and not even adjust my character to face the enemy, which leads to me wildly swinging my weapon in the wrong direction.

Even worse than this is the actual act of combat. Neither of your attacks feel good to execute and neither of them feel like they have any weight to them. The combo system is also a joke, which boils down to you hitting two quick attacks and one strong attack repeatedly. You have the ability to dodge attacks when timed correctly, but I have yet to make this work with any sort of consistency. During my last playthrough, I got a gun, which has been pretty useless thus far. The weight and impact of your shots isn't there, and it seems like it takes a whole clip to take anything down. In a game where you only get 10 bullets every 30 minutes, that isn't going to cut it. Regardless of what you do to kill your enemy, it doesn't feel like you do anything more than stand in front of your enemy and hit buttons until your enemy dies. All of the tension and fear is lost when it just looks like you and your enemy aimlessly flailing at each other. I've heard that combat in the Silent Hill series has always been an Achilles heel to the point that the latest version of the game removes combat completely.

I'm at a crossroads with this game. I love the music and am intrigued to find out where this game's story goes. But is that enough for me to bear with checking hundreds of doors and having a horrible time beating up zombies and other monsters one at a time? Maybe it's best to cut this homecoming short.


Flashback to sometime in the early 90s. I was between the ages of 8-10 years old around the time this happened. I was on a family trip, and we stopped at some souvenir shop that happened to have a haunted house in the basement. I guess it was more of a dungeon than anything. As a cocky kid, I thought I could handle it, no problem. Then I went down the stairs, saw a pitch-black hallway, and ran back up. I told my mom straight up, "I'm too scared to do this." Wanting to get her money's worth, my mom then came down there with me. This time, the lights were fully on, everything exposed, and nothing there that could possibly jump out of the blue and kill me. I think whoever was running the dungeon toned it down just so that I could get through it without messing up my underwear. I may have only been in that dark dungeon hallway alone for five seconds, but I still live with that fear to this day.

This would not be the first or last time something would push my fear buttons. In fact, I have a very poor track record handling fear. Unlike many people, I don't get a positive adrenaline rush when something scary happens to me or I watch something scary. When I get scared, I get scared. I can't handle roller coasters because all I can think about in my mind is that this ride might lead me to a horrible death. My perception of roller coasters only got worse when I actually got injured on the last one I was on.

I went a good 15 years without watching a horror movie because of something I saw in a Jason movie when I was a toddler. Since I broke that streak, I've watched less than 10 horror movies. In order to break out of that fear when watching horror movies, I constantly look for an "out" to break the experience for me, whether that's pointing out bad acting, poor plot pacing or obvious use of special effects; anything to take myself away from being scared. To my benefit, most of the scary movies I've been put in front of were awful, which made thinking about stuff other than being scared very easy.

Image from metavideogame

When it comes to feelings of fear from video games, my first and arguably only foray into the survival horror genre came from the Resident Evil remake on Gamecube. I enjoyed the experience, but I flat-out could not play that game at night or in the dark. When those dogs jumped in through the windows, I almost lost it. It was the first time a video game was able to evoke feelings of fear and dread from me, and it made me really uncomfortable. If I didn't receive that game for my birthday, and if everything else about that game wasn't awesome at the time, I would not have touched that game with a 10-foot pole. I did end up beating it, but I was constantly on the verge of losing my composure.


So it is with extreme tepidness that I recently began playing Silent Hill: Homecoming. I have never played a Silent Hill game before and until I received a copy of the game for Christmas, never had any plans on trying. From the little I knew about this series going in, I knew that I should be expecting a more straight-up horror experience, unlike the more recent Resident Evil games that have branched off to be more action-oriented. Having heard through a number of podcasts, I also heard that this is one of the weakest Silent Hill games, even though the Metacritic score appears to be alright.

Almost instantly after the gameplay started, the fear I felt when I was alone in that dungeon hallway as a kid hit me. The music, the atmosphere...the tension...I sunk under my skin immediately. In terms of video game fearIt didn't take long for me to second guess myself about this game. In the back of my head from that point on, I just kept asking myself, "Do I want to continue with this?" I wandered around the dark corridors of the hospital, and during the game's first "jump scare", I actually paused the game because I felt an overload of fear.

What has kept me from completely losing it so far are the "game-like" moments that take away from the fear, such as having to navigate a video game menu, or the Resident Evil-style captions, or the sloppy combat thus far. While poor combat is definitely a weak point so far, maybe it's for the best to have something to take my mind off of being scared.

Though if I'm genuinely scared by the game, should I even continue to play it? Even if this game was the hottest game out and had the easiest achievements, is it worth the potential trauma to continue?