Silent Hill Series Review (Xbox, PlayStation & PC)

When I think of the word melancholic, I always think of Silent Hill—the bleak, bruised, ash-trodden streets, and the ominous hellholes in which tainted ilk and nightmarish hallucinations roam rampant. It’s a series that has continuously made me feel uncomfortable, yet still as equally compelled to scratch away at its layers with each passing iteration. One more hole; one more descent; one final slip into a seemingly endless cycle of insufferable torment and misery, death and macabre memories. I fear Silent Hill, but it’s a place that I find myself returning to like a nosy neighbor with an insatiable desire to unravel its deepest, darkest secrets.

Silent Hill is one of few primary torchbearers that has the ability to build on disturbing realities and anxious thoughts, wayward emotions and fickle nightmares. From its earliest days as an experimental horror to its modern-day revivals, each chapter in its twisted book has, at least in one way or another, been able to turn heads and deliver a powerful yet awfully frightening experience of a dark and somewhat twisted variety. With a roster of original enemies and a pigeon hole of signature tales, Silent Hill has, and rightfully so, been one of the few IPs to pivot the world of horror and transform it into a staple among developers, an anchor point among fledgling creators.

A Moniker for Mist and Ash

Despite its earlier chapters being plagued by the usual pulp and other tedious fixtures that quelled the PSX era, Silent Hill was arguably one of the best horrors of its time. Thanks to its incubation of one of the most iconic foes—Pyramid Head, naturally—and a setting that would later form the backbone for the franchise, Silent Hill quickly became a standout IP among PSX players. And, to be honest, that momentum never really came to a halt, either, as Team Silent retained a solid grasp on the foothold for years — decades, even.

While the folks over at Team Silent have gravitated more toward rewriting the earlier versions in the saga in recent years, the team still has a hand in a rather weighty portfolio, with numerous iterations than span several settings, characters, and time periods. And, to be fair, even with all of these works beneath its belt, the branding is still as transparent as ever. In other words, you don’t need a monocle to figure out whether or not it’s a Silent Hill game; it’s evident, as is its cult-like tone. The thing that sets this familiar image apart from its adversaries is that Team Silent also has the power to cast a light on that same blueprint a hundred times over and still reap the same benefits.

Of Fire and Brimstone

As much as I dislike the idea of joining the bandwagon and singing its praises for the sake of it, it’s almost too easy to find something to celebrate when it comes to Silent Hill. Aside from its conceptually simple yet harrowing theme and backdrop—two key components that have been ironclad throughout the series’ lifespan—the franchise has continuously found fresh ways to keeps the wheels of change in constant motion. And to be honest, no other competitor has ever come within spitting distance of matching that prowess. Resident Evil, or The Evil Within, perhaps, but even then, it has often felt as if Silent Hill has a missing ingredient that no other game can either source or wield.

I’m all for janky mechanics. If anything, I embrace them, especially if they’re stitched into an ode to PSX. Of course, the subsequent releases in the series ironed over those issues, which was a surefire way to keep the mechanisms from getting a little too stiff. But for the time, fixed camera angles and unnecessarily complex combat systems were the “in” thing, and it felt normal. Looking back, it probably could have done with an extra layer of polish to grease the hinges, but that also would have sullied some of the series’ greatest parts. Case in point, Silent Hill initially had a bad habit of obscuring your vision with not only an endless stream of mist, but with locked camera angles that would prevent you from seeing what was around the next corner, and so on and so forth. Removing that from the mix was an essential part of modernizing the format, true, but it also helped elevate the suspense.

Suffice it to say that, as far as retelling the same story goes, Silent Hill has a knack for keeping you on your toes with a lot of the same generic fodder. Yet, even with the same setting, each new chapter has been able to introduce vast changes to the infrastructure, from original creature designs to thought-provoking puzzle pieces, environmental curveballs to jump scares. The voice acting has always been a little, shall we say, off — but I’m not about to dock points for its translation, even if the dialogue has been wooden and laughably bad for the best part of twenty years. We won’t even begin to discuss the dog ending. That’s a story for another time.

Verdict

Silent Hill is one of few genuinely disturbing horror series that has continuously received critical acclaim from die-hard fans and critics alike, with its sinister yet effortlessly compelling format and ashen setting providing a cult-like foundation that, in all honesty, no other series in the world could ever replicate. From its signature tropes to its faithful enemies, irritatingly complex puzzles to its unnerving atmosphere, the saga as a whole has been able to deliver nuggets of gold with each passing season. I’ll admit that they aren’t inclusive jewels that appeal to the entire world, but for the target demographic, they’re diamonds among coal reserves—treasures that everyone wants and craves.

Of all the staple horror franchises on the block, Silent Hill continues to uphold its reputation as one of the best and most influential A-listers of all time, with its unique brand of storytelling and shudder-worthy gameplay elements harnessing a strong, albeit far from flawless blueprint that continues to impress fans and newcomers across the globe even after twenty years on the job. Don’t get me wrong, it still falls into a rather niche realm of horror, but with a premise and structure that’s so darn more-ish, it’s also difficult to give it the cold shoulder, too.