What exactly defines the Silent Hill series? Is it an unassuming town blanketed in fog, a place where horrors are hidden just out of sight? Is it the survival gameplay and cryptic puzzles? Or is it the sound of an air raid siren, and Pyramid Head dragging his bloody cleaver across concrete?
The most straightforward answer is that these are psychological horror games which are about something: unforgivable crimes, abusive childhoods, systemic misogyny. Compared to its peers, Silent Hill has always stood out for its heavy themes and persistent symbolism, with every monster carrying a double meaning.
The latest entry in the series, Silent Hill: Townfall, hits all these points. Its setting, a Scottish fishing village, is so evocative that you can practically smell the sea salt. Its creatures double as metaphors, with scares that carry deeper meaning. And of course, there’s the fog, rolling in off the ocean to hide horrible deeds.
However, there’s another important element of Silent Hill that Townfall struggles to capture: presentation. At their best, these games use surreal imagery to take us through self-constructed underworlds of rusted metal and squelching flesh. At first, the Otherworld comes across like a nonsensical, half-remembered nightmare, but peel away enough layers, and you’ll reveal the truth like a raw wound beneath a scab. The omnipresent fog isn’t only there to obfuscate monsters and create tension; it’s there to hide the full picture. The best Silent Hill games unravel like a compelling mystery.
Silent Hill: Townfall has some heady ideas, but the delivery lacks punch. There isn’t much of the enigmatic ambiance the series is known for or the little moments that defy reason or clear meaning: tortured bodies in steel cages; a shrill scream that belongs to no one; the industrial churn of Akira Yamaoka’s score. In Townfall, piecing together macabre events doesn’t make you feel like an occult detective driven on by a dark curiosity, as much as a passive participant reading what’s plainly spelled out. Whether it’s the lackluster stealth gameplay or the unadorned metaphors, this horror game is a bit too on the nose.
The story begins as Simon Ordell climbs out of St. Amelia’s harbor. He’s dazed, confused, and has an IV in his arm connected to a strange black fluid. Simon wanders into the town square where he finds a recently constructed memorial to an undefined tragedy. “A CRIME ON OUR COMMUNITY,” a protest sign reads. After a voice reaches out to Simon through a handheld CRT device, he sets out to find a man named Richard who promises him answers.
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Image: Konami, Screen Burn Interactive
Image: Konami, Screen Burn Interactive
Image: Konami, Screen Burn Interactive