Reviews are pointless things; what value is there in giving one’s opinion where other minds will have other thoughts, other experiences of the same stimuli. To claim objectivity as to an experience’s quality is laughable and remains a tidy watchword to identify those who lack this most basic yet essential of comprehensions. It is we who determine value; our individual minds determine what is or is not fun, useful or desirable. Nothing is more boring or tedious than a tidy consensus. So why then, why write some 40 plus accounts of personal experience for those who have their own minds, their own ability to decide?
The answer, beyond my own edification, is to somewhat highlight that very fact. I enjoy understanding why someone does or does not like a thing, it provides an insight into the person, their psychology, their biases, foibles and fetishes. Different interpretations give us an expanded view, grant us a sight beyond our own however partial or blurry this extra vision might be, or however little this might affect our own experience. This at least is my view, as is this; that Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice is not a game I can fully appreciate despite how much I enjoyed it and reflect on it now as a flawed yet vital addition to our little world of gaming.
I’ve mentioned him before but never has a game so necessitated his inclusion when reviewing it. I have a dear friend for whom this game made far more sense than it did for me. It is he that has to carry the burdens of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Insomnia and Aspergers Syndrome. I am but a humble moon in his orbit and it is for those like him that Hellblade will undoubtedly strike the deepest. Whilst it is far from the first game to tackle mental illness, The Cat Lady being a relatively recent example, very few have been this ambitious.
The basic premise of its story fits perfectly within the European mythological tradition; a young Celtic warrior leaves her Viking ravaged home to rescue the soul of her slain lover from the hands of Hela, the Nordic goddess of the dead. This tale of legendary swords, dead lovers and mortals challenging the gods is well worn but such tales continue to fascinate us to this day and Hellblade exploits this with an agreeable sense of dark, visceral flair.
The writing is, for the most part, very good, with the performances lending their hand to making the most out of the script. There are a few odd readings and the occasional clunker of a line but this is far and away Tameem Antoniades’ best work. Not especially hard perhaps, but it’s always encouraging to see some genuine improvement from a writer who had yet to ever truly impress. As befitting the time and place of the story its allusions towards mental illness are cradled in the language of myth and magic, where curses are real and evil is granted a tangible form. Senua’s psychosis is here referred to as some ever hungering darkness, and far from granting her slick black tentacles it is the source of her internal torment and anguish. The story examines its impact upon her, her family, her tribe and that of her friend turned lover, Dillion, for whose soul and sake Senua braves the forbidding realms of the Northmen.
What it does so well is how it carefully observes and examines the way in which we react to such behaviour, how we characterise it and how we view those who carry these unseen and too often unacknowledged burdens. “Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault” oh how many times I’ve had to say such a thing. One emotion that has always stuck with me is that of guilt, the sense of sorrow and self-loathing that somehow suggests it’s their doing, that they are responsible and have control of it where only with some willpower they could spare those around them. This particular theme is presented in a way I can readily identify and empathise with for which it deserves high praise.
The first thing to say about Senua though is that Melina Jurgen's performance of the tortured young woman is really quite exceptional. Hellblade uses a mix of full performance capture and effects laden fmv and in her case the detail and nuance of her many expressions and emotions reaches a level David Cage would most certainly burn down his house for.
One aspect that was particularly noticeable was in the oft bearing of teeth. What at first seems like a strange quirk soon reveals itself as clear stress reaction. The grinding of teeth is common in those of us used to stress and anxiety, and in Senua there seems little doubt that it would occur so frequently.
My mother is always keen to remind me that the brain is an organ like any other, that it can be overworked, that it suffers strains and can break down if pushed too far. She was also keen to highlight that like any organ it requires energy to make it run and for many people relatively simple acts such as engaging with others or warding off dark thoughts can expend a great deal of effort without ever having left their room or bed.
You can clearly detect this with Senua; her aforementioned teeth, her wide eyes and heavy breathing do their best to hide the exhaustion that would otherwise claim her. Add in starkly intimate monologues of naked vulnerability and you get a character that highlights just how pedestrian and low standards have sunk with respect to video game protagonists.
Ninja Theory’s pedigree with third person combat means that the action of Hellblade is suitable tight and well designed, however it is far less complex than that of DmC or even their first title Heavenly Sword from which Hellblade's title performs a linguistic handstand. Senua can use light and heavy attacks, blocks, parries and dodges to defend and can expend rechargeable focus power to slow time and hack away at her foes at leisure. The system works well for what it is and enemies off screen will be called out when ready to strike by the voices Senua hears throughout the game. These voices play a vital role in hinting at useful tactics and can be relied upon to ensure you’re not at a loss as to how to approach any given combat scenario. This is indeed useful but in turn makes the action rather easy and straightforward, even the bosses however intimidating lack significant challenge.
The combat is nevertheless in your face and satisfyingly visceral. The animations are impressive and there is a definite weight and drama to battle where the bullet time effects of Senua’s focus add a touch of visual flair with its pirouetting corpses and splashes of blood that hang in air. It’s a shame then that the combat doesn’t develop all that much over the course of the journey, but its relative brevity means that this doesn’t become terminal to the experience and the climatic battles late on against ever increasing numbers had a thrilling air of desperation and rage brought on by their context.
Outside of combat Hellblade is a mix of walking simulator, gentle puzzler, and sometimes stealth horror. The mainstay of the experience is finding the runes to unlock gates that bar your way. These runes are found by manipulating the environment around you to create the necessary shapes. As such you get dual world gameplay, the altering of light sources and good old fashioned line up the things to make another thing.
But for all of this apparent mechanical conservatism, each one appears tailored to a particular aspect of some neurological disorder. For instance the identifying of patterns within what we otherwise consider random chaos or the constant need to focus to make sense of your surroundings. These are not idle inclusions; they touch upon the day to day consequences of living with unseen demons, be they PTSD, Asperger’s or the oft quoted psychosis.
Alas when divorced from these connections it isn’t hard to feel as though the game is running through a textbook of some rather overused and simplistic gameplay ideas. Even with the understanding as to why such ideas are included there’s no guarantee of enjoyment. The ways in which the patterns arise are varied and clever, yet the essential sameness of the enterprise remains.
A handful of technical quirks aside, Hellblade is a real treat visually, few games have so readily captured the sights and sounds that come with the inclement weather traditional to northern Europe. The rain and wind, the mud and stones, they are brought to life with great fidelity and give Senua a suitably atmospheric environment in which to sojourn. Waves lap against the shore where the shattered remains of longships lie, bodies are hung, impaled and burnt, dried blood smeared across their rotting flesh, all the while the sun shines brightly, basking this grim landscape with an aching and earthen beauty that betrays the horrors taking place upon it.
Alas there is no doubt in my mind that all this will be the source of much naval gazing and tortured over-analysis on Youtube in the name of intellectual narcissism and the quick buck, however it’s reassuring to see such a high end production tackle something so emotionally fraught whilst not allowing its sensitive subject matter to override the story at hand, rather it interweaves and enhances it with some genuine substance and emotive power.
Whether this project is part of the more general expanding of public discourse on the subject or a singular ambition on the part of Ninja Theory is perhaps less clear, but for one soul, for one man who is dear to me it represents the most acute and affecting experience they’ve ever encountered in the medium. If the only achievement of Senua's Sacrifice was this one small victory, then no amount of fancy words or meaningless scores could ever convey its worth.