#oneaday Day 476: A few first impressions from Silent Hill f

I'm excited to be playing a brand new Silent Hill game in 2025. I wasn't sure how I felt about Silent Hill f transplanting the series from late '90s/early '00s America to 1960s Japan, but thus far it appears to be a change that works. If you've played any entries in the Project Zero/Fatal Frame series, you'll know that small-town Japan has plenty of scope for eerie activities, and such is the case with Silent Hill f.

I'm just shy of four hours in so far and thus far I've been having a good time. Protagonist Hinako, in true Silent Hill tradition, clearly has some Issues to work through, though the exact specifics of these haven't been revealed as yet, aside from the fact that her father is an abusive alcoholic and she resents her sister for moving away to get married. She also may or may not be dead; my internal jury's out on that one thus far.

As with prior Silent Hill games, Silent Hill f sees Hinako wandering through a sort-of open environment, stumbling across interesting happenings and finding horrific trouble at fairly regular intervals. This time around, rather than being completely alone, Hinako regularly runs into her school friends, who are seemingly seeing the same things she is seeing — there's always been some ambiguity in the series as to whether things are "really" happening — but for the most part she ends up having to act by herself in order to catch up with her peers in various ways.

Part of the narrative is clearly going to involve how Hinako is ostracised from certain parts of her supposed "friendship" group for refusing to conform to behavioural gender norms. Her best friend is an icky boy named Shu, and even as teens, they are still obsessed with their imaginary "Space War" games that they've been playing together since childhood. I'm interested to see quite how far the game ends up leaning into matters of gender identity, because it would very much be in keeping with the series' past of exploring psychosexual matters, among other things.

Much of Silent Hill f sees Hinako stumbling around in the fog as is series tradition, but likewise there are times when she finds herself in "other" places. In one sequence, she finds herself lost in a seemingly endless field of scarecrows and must solve a puzzle to find a way out; on several other occasions — seemingly when she's unconscious in the "fog" world — she goes somewhere completely different, shrouded in darkness, filled with mysterious temples and shrines, and guided by a man in a fox mask who almost certainly is not entirely trustworthy.

As you might expect, the game dives deep into traditional Japanese spiritualism and superstitions, with the main angle exploring the fox god Inari. There have been a couple of mentions of an "ancient god" that may or may not be Inari at various junctures too, though, so it remains to be seen where all that ends up — and whether Inari is a force one should feel comfortable putting one's faith behind.

Mechanically, it's pretty much as you would expect for a modern survival horror game. Combat takes a few cues from heavy-hitting stamina management action RPGs because of course it does, everything seemingly has to these days, but since the Souls games, trope codifiers for this type of experience, are effectively survival horror RPGs in many respects, it does make a certain amount of sense. It also helps to highlight that Hinako, as a teenage girl, is not a fighter. She can't take much punishment and she isn't particularly agile at swinging anything around with the intention of doing damage. As such, combat has a rather deliberate pace, though mistakes are punished quite severely, even on the default "Story" difficulty.

Initially I wasn't all that enamoured with this, but once you get a feel for its distinctive rhythm and learn to spot enemy tells — including some particularly explicit ones that allow you to counterattack — it's probably a good fit for Silent Hill, if indeed the series really "needs" combat at all. (Silent Hill: Shattered Memories was an attempt to do a Silent Hill game without combat, and it was mostly successful, though the "chase" sequences it had in lieu of actual fights were, at times, a little frustrating.)

The puzzles have been interesting so far, though despite the default puzzle difficulty being "Hard" none have been too taxing as yet. The trickiest one thus far took place in the aforementioned scarecrow field and required reading of body language and facial expressions to match a particular statement; I'm not entirely sure I solved this one "correctly", but it made internal sense to me while doing so and thus I'm counting it as a success.

I'm intrigued, then. I want to know more about Hinako's situation and what is really going on with her. There are quite a few different ways I can potentially see things proceeding from where I am thus far, and in keeping with series tradition, not many of them promise a happy ending for our heroine. And we longstanding Silent Hill fans wouldn't have it any other way.

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2232: Pondering Postgame

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I feel like I've become much more conscious of a lot of single-player games incorporating an almost MMO-like "endgame" these days, though pondering the matter a little further I'm not sure it's as new a concept as I initially thought it was.

My musings on this subject are inspired by my second playthrough of Megadimension Neptunia VII, which is going considerably quicker than my 62-hour first playthrough of it thanks to its myriad of rather lovely New Game Plus features — faster run speed, higher jump height, ability to turn off random encounters and a bunch of other things besides, including the ability to instantly skip story scenes you've seen before — and in which I'm taking aim for the "true" ending and the subsequent postgame, which allows you to continue playing after the credits have rolled to clean up whatever it is you still want to get out of the game.

In the case of Megadimension Neptunia and numerous other games like it — largely JRPGs, with a few exceptions — the postgame is often designed with trophy collecting in mind, with some of the most challenging trophies requiring dedicated effort well above and beyond what the main story of the game demanded. In most cases, you're not actually missing out on any story by pursuing these additional objectives; you're simply expressing a desire to see everything the game has to offer, and to push your knowledge of its mechanics to the limit.

This is where the MMO endgame comparison comes in. Take my particular brand of MMO poison as an example: Final Fantasy XIV has a linear main scenario that takes you from level 1 to level 60 naturally, telling an interesting tale while equipping you with the skills you'll need for high-level play. Once you reach level 60 and beat the main story you have a few choices: you can put the game down, satisfied that you've "finished" it; you can keep playing it to see what the new episodes of the story added in each new content patch add to the overall narrative; or you can delve into the endgame proper, which often relies less on story and more on mechanics and grinding, with the promise of significant increases in your character's power as a reward.

This is exactly the case with modern single-player games that offer postgame content, too. In the case of Megadimension Neptunia VII, there are hidden treasures to hunt down, additional monsters to fight, challenging dungeons to clear and collectibles to… you know. There's no actual obligation for you to take these extra challenges on if you're satisfied with how the main story concluded, but the option is there for those who want to spend a bit more time with the game without having to worry about whether they'll lock themselves out of something by advancing the plot too far.

As I say, I'd got into my head that this was a somewhat recent concept; when I think back to titles that I spent a lot of time with in years gone by, in many cases you had to take care of any and all of your business before you beat the final boss and rolled the credits. Take something like Final Fantasy VII, for example; once you unlock the final dungeon, pretty much the whole world is open to you, and there are a bunch of optional sidequests you can go and complete for some fairly significant rewards if you see fit, though none of them are essential to the plot, and none of them are necessary to beat the final boss. Once you do beat that final boss, though, that's the end of the game — in RPGs of that era, you often didn't even get to save a "clear file" to start a New Game Plus and carry over some of your achievements to a new runthrough.

But when I consider things in a bit more depth, the idea of the postgame — of an ostensibly narrative-based game remaining relevant and interesting to play even after you've seen the story's finale — has been around for quite some time. Konami's PS1 and PS2-era games, for example, often featured a ranking/score screen at the end of the game, challenging you to try it again, but do it faster/better/taking fewer hits. Other games unlocked new difficulty settings, or unlocked alternative (sometimes joke) endings. Capcom's Resident Evil 2 took the ambitious approach of having multiple ways to experience the narrative: you could play it once as Claire, then see what Leon was up to while Claire was doing her thing; then you could play it "for the first time" again as Leon, then see what Claire was up to while Leon was doing his thing. Each of these four playthroughs, while similar, had its own unique content, making the game worth replaying — and once you'd done all that, there were the super-secret paths such as Hunk and Tofu, which mostly acted as a reward for those who had put in enough time and effort to master the game.

MMO players often describe reaching the level cap of their game of choice as "just the beginning" of your experience. And it's very much true; pre-Heavensward Final Fantasy XIV sat at level 50 for a good couple of years, but managed to feel like it was progressing at a regular, steady rate, both in terms of new content and character power levels — and it's doubtless the same with other MMOs that keep adding new stuff to keep level-cap players interested and engaged.

What I find interesting is the idea that a game designed primarily to tell a story — to have a clear end — can have so much beyond that story content, even if it's a single-player game that isn't expanded over time with new content, DLC or the like. It's one of the many things that sets games apart from non-interactive forms of entertainment, and it's an opportunity to enjoy a different side of a game you've taken pleasure in engaging with: having worked your way through the narrative, you're now focusing on mastering the mechanics until you're satisfied you've got everything you're going to out of the game in question.

I never used to do multiple playthroughs of games — except for Final Fantasy VII, which my friends and I were borderline obsessed with in our teens — but these days, I very much enjoy exploring the postgame, trophy hunting and seeing multiple endings. Once I'm done with Megadimension Neptunia VII, I'm particularly looking forward to Dungeon Travelers 2's postgame; from everything I've heard about it, it very much takes the MMO approach of "finishing the story is just the beginning… now prove you really know how to play this game. If, you know, you want to." — and that is something that has come to appeal to me very much over the years, even as many of my peers are getting less and less patient with lengthy, time-consuming games. I wonder what made me go the other way?

Oh well. Time for bed now; tomorrow I will find out if I've actually done all the arbitrary triggers that ensure I will get Megadimension Neptunia VII's "true" ending, or if I need to do the whole bloody thing through for a third time. (That's not actually too bad; to put it in context, while my first playthrough took 62 hours, my second playthrough has probably been no more than 3 hours so far, and I'm just coming into the third and final story arc, which puts me maybe an hour away from the "ending".)

#oneaday Day 757: SEX!

Let's talk about sex. Sex in video games, to be exact.

I read this article over on Eurogamer today. It makes its point in a rather crude manner, noting that video games "can't do sex", going on to cite numerous examples including popular media's backlash against Mass Effect's sex scene and BioWare's subsequent retreat into their characters' underwear; sex-focused games such as 3D Sex Villa 2; Second Life's notorious sex industry (which likely accounts for a considerable proportion of that virtual world's economy) and numerous others.

But I sort of think that the argument in that article is a bit flawed. There seems to be something of a confusion in the distinction between "sexual content" and "porn". I don't think anyone is advocating the inclusion of outright pornography in our games, though this is often the assumption that mainstream media makes when news emerges of sexual content in a high-profile game. But the Eurogamer piece jumps from discussing Mass Effect's soft-focus sideboob to games that are just plain porn. There's no middle ground, it seems.

Or is there? Well, yes, but you have to look outside of the mainstream and outside of the pornographic games industry to find it.

Probably the most common example you'll find of this "middle ground" is in the dating sim/visual novel/eroge genre. I've played a few of these over the years for curiosity's sake and while some are just interactive porn stories (Paradise Heights springs to mind — there are no choices to make and a lot of fucking) others like True Love, Kana Little Sister, Three Sisters' Story and, yes, Katawa Shoujo use their sexuality as something more than just a titillating scene for players to jack off over or something deliberately provocative to attract the ire (and thus inadvertent publicity) of the mainstream media. (This latter interpretation is a cynical view, I know, but I've seen too much video game marketing over the last couple of years to believe it doesn't happen.)

Rather, these games use sexual scenes in context. Katawa Shoujo is perhaps the best example, with sex scenes proving to be a way for us to get to know more about the characters. We learn that Emi is adventurous and willing to try anything once; that Lilly, despite her prim and proper appearance, enjoys her sexuality; that Shizune is dominant in all aspects of her personality; that Misha is confused; that Hanako believes no-one will see her as anything more than a "princess" to be saved; that Rin craves intimacy, to find some way to connect to another person. All of these scenes feature explicit erotic imagery and text, but none descend into being porn — sex for the sake of sex. During the sex scenes with Rin, for example, there's a lot of philosophising about what might be going on inside Rin's confused, creative head. Lilly uses one of her sex scenes to show Hisao what it's like to be blind. Emi's "Anal." scene is endearingly awkward as only teenage sex can be. And Hanako's encounter with Hisao is faintly horrifying after the fact.

"I can't fap to this!" was the war cry thrown up by members of 4chan upon playing Katawa Shoujo, but that's not a bad thing — do you jack off every time there's a sex scene in a movie? No, because that's ridiculous. Sex doesn't equal porn.

The same is true to a lesser extent in True Love, another dating sim based in a high school, though in this instance it's a regular education institute rather than a special school. In True Love, gameplay revolves around managing the protagonist's schedule so he builds up a series of different statistics ranging from creativity to sportsmanship. Different statistics will attract different members of the game's cast, and this then sends you down their various narrative routes where, again, along the way you get to know them a whole lot better and, again, you get to shag them at least once in a scene that, while erotic, is more focused on characterisation than providing something for the player to get their rocks off to.

Three Sisters' Story actively punishes players for being promiscuous, though not until it's far too late to do anything about it. Throughout the course of the game's story, the player gets the opportunity to have sex with the three sisters in question, but also has the opportunity to turn them down, too. If the player elects to have sex with all of them over the course of the game, the story doesn't end well for our protagonist, even after he saves them from abduction. A degree of self-control on the player's part is required in order to get the best ending. Do they want the sexy scene now, or do they want the story to end well?

Moving out of the visual novel genre, Silent Hill is another series which has always used sexual imagery to striking effect. Rather than being outright explicit about it, however, it tends to make use of more abstract imagery, leaving the player to interpret things for themselves. At no point in the game do we see exactly what made Angela so wrong in the head, but we can interpret that it was sexual abuse from her father. At no point in the game does James speak about his resentment over his wife's illness depriving him of sexual gratification, but we can determine that from the appearance and behaviour of Maria, the various times Pyramid Head shows up and the grotesque mannequins who form the bulk of the game's enemies.

You can't fap to Silent Hill, in short.

Look at Catherine, too. The game's just come out in the UK so a whole new wave of reviews has been hitting. I was rather surprised to see at least a couple calling it out for not being daring enough with its visuals — i.e. not showing any tits, muff, cock and/or balls. Despite the game's focus on adultery, sexuality and adult relationships, there are no explicit sex scenes in the game, and nothing more than sideboob in the nudity department. But the thing is, there doesn't need to be. Catherine didn't need explicitly pornographic scenes to get across its point. Sex is a key theme in that game, but that doesn't mean we need to stop for a fuck break every so often. Sometimes implying something can be just as powerful as showing it and — God forbid — making it interactive: Heavy Rain's painfully awkward interactive sex scene says "HHNNNGGG" at this juncture.

So can games "do sex"? Why yes, yes they can. Unfortunately, those games which do do sex and do it well tend to be confined to the specialist interest, cult classic or underpromoted independent title department. So why don't we see large publishers taking more risks, producing more adult games with sexual themes and/or content?

Part of it is a marketing issue. Getting too explicit with the sexytime in a game will net a release an "Adults Only" rating from the ESRB, and that's a big no-no for a lot of game retailers, thus hurting physical sales for the publisher. Given the growth of digital downloads, however, at least part of this problem goes away — there's no shame in purchasing an Adults Only title online, and publishers can simply sell it themselves, which is generally a better deal for everyone involved anyway.

Part of it, too, is fear of backlash from the mainstream media and, subsequently, politicians who don't understand the first thing about the industry, assuming it to be toys for children. California had a narrow escape just last year, and it's doubtful that publishers want to take the risk of making the people in charge think that censorship of a creative industry still finding its feet is a good idea.

Do we "need" sex in games? If we want to explore the full gamut of human emotions in the interactive stories that we tell, then yes, we do. We need to get over the assumptions that everyone playing games is too young to be able to handle sexual content. We need to get over childish tittering at every sight of sideboob. We need to have realistic characters who have realistic relationships.

What this doesn't mean, however, is that we need sex in all games. And those games that we do have sex in should justify its inclusion somehow, otherwise we're right back to accusations of peddling porn again. Katawa Shoujo and its ilk are doing it right. Mainstream publishers could learn a lot from the risks that independent studios and those who tackle the development of a game as a creative rather than a technical or marketing project.

Who knows what the future holds? I certainly don't. But it's clear that the industry as a whole still has a lot of growing up to do as yet.