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indigozealPractical matters conspire to keep Silent Hill 2from me. First of all, the dizziness I felt at the end of my last mentioned play session was not but the onset of vertigo, a full-blown attack of which I had a couple days ago. It seems to have been a one-off incident but was alarming enough at the time. Second of all, my disc was starting up in the system only like one time out of ten, bringing up "disc read error"s apparently due to scratches on the surface that existed pre-purchase. Though I'd just started the game a few days ago, I'd delayed my play to the point where my disc was out of warranty, but I explained the situation to clerk, and I got the disc resurfaced for free. The folks at Bull Moose Music are good people.
Anyhow, I'm making my way through the apartment complex, which follows the first game's opening environment in being freaking neverending. Two separate buildings with three expansive floors each, lordy. And I'm going to have to go through this again once the nightmare world shows up.
The accelerated puzzle level hasn't proved too much of a stumbling block yet. There was one puzzle with a clock, where the positions to which you were to set the hands (represented by scratched-out lines) were paired with properly-initialed first names standing in for hours-minutes-seconds. I have run across a safe I can't open, but I probably just haven't encountered the combination yet (inputting the time to which you set the clock doesn't work). I also picked up an explicable six-pack of canned juice, which in retrospect I think I'm supposed to throw down the garbage chute to dislodge whatever's caught in the shaft.
What has proved an annoyance are respawning enemies in the hallways of the second building. In an indoor environment, Silent Hill? Really? Fortunately, I've picked up an actual handgun in my travels (it was in the apartments after all, not in the streets as I previously suspected), which makes dealing with the My First Enemies a bit simpler - just so long as I don't run out of bullets. Fortunately, they're mixed in with another enemy type, a double-pair of Christmas Story leg lamps, that while genuinely freakish in their movements go down fairly easily to some aggressive melee fighting.
The famed Pyramid Head was at last encountered, in the midst of one of his equally-famed pseudo-rape scenes. James proceeded to attempt to hide behind a flimsy folding door with very wide venetian slats, then when inevitably spotted, wasted about nine rounds trying to shoot at Mr. Head through the slats. I mean, I haven't been chasen by a hellspawned monstrosity personally, so perhaps I shouldn't judge, but...this is kind of a recurring pattern of behavior for James. He's...I don't want to say stupid, but he's...well, there really is no way to say it other than dumb. He doesn't have savvy; he does awkward, almost babyishly unrealistic things.
He also gets winded really easily. Eight steps of running, and bam, he's gotta take a break. I do appreciate, though, the game's subtle system of alerting you to the presence of items - James stares at them if they're in his vicinity, sparking you've-found-something-boy-have-you-have-you searching if he's suddenly not looking the way he's walking.
I don't want to speculate on the plot yet, as I was unfortunately spoiled on one of the game's big secrets, but I will say that I do appreciate how many of the game's themes are communicated abstractly - the huge wall of red I noted in the initial entry; the use of mannequin's dismembered limbs to suggest female body parts used roughly and cast aside. The sequel does seem to be both a step more mature in its use of abstraction than the original and more effective at communicating the symbolism in the moment rather than leaving the player puzzled at the end and forced to resort to external exegesis to glean exactly what just happened.
.
Anyhow, I'm making my way through the apartment complex, which follows the first game's opening environment in being freaking neverending. Two separate buildings with three expansive floors each, lordy. And I'm going to have to go through this again once the nightmare world shows up.
The accelerated puzzle level hasn't proved too much of a stumbling block yet. There was one puzzle with a clock, where the positions to which you were to set the hands (represented by scratched-out lines) were paired with properly-initialed first names standing in for hours-minutes-seconds. I have run across a safe I can't open, but I probably just haven't encountered the combination yet (inputting the time to which you set the clock doesn't work). I also picked up an explicable six-pack of canned juice, which in retrospect I think I'm supposed to throw down the garbage chute to dislodge whatever's caught in the shaft.
What has proved an annoyance are respawning enemies in the hallways of the second building. In an indoor environment, Silent Hill? Really? Fortunately, I've picked up an actual handgun in my travels (it was in the apartments after all, not in the streets as I previously suspected), which makes dealing with the My First Enemies a bit simpler - just so long as I don't run out of bullets. Fortunately, they're mixed in with another enemy type, a double-pair of Christmas Story leg lamps, that while genuinely freakish in their movements go down fairly easily to some aggressive melee fighting.
The famed Pyramid Head was at last encountered, in the midst of one of his equally-famed pseudo-rape scenes. James proceeded to attempt to hide behind a flimsy folding door with very wide venetian slats, then when inevitably spotted, wasted about nine rounds trying to shoot at Mr. Head through the slats. I mean, I haven't been chasen by a hellspawned monstrosity personally, so perhaps I shouldn't judge, but...this is kind of a recurring pattern of behavior for James. He's...I don't want to say stupid, but he's...well, there really is no way to say it other than dumb. He doesn't have savvy; he does awkward, almost babyishly unrealistic things.
He also gets winded really easily. Eight steps of running, and bam, he's gotta take a break. I do appreciate, though, the game's subtle system of alerting you to the presence of items - James stares at them if they're in his vicinity, sparking you've-found-something-boy-have-you-have-you searching if he's suddenly not looking the way he's walking.
I don't want to speculate on the plot yet, as I was unfortunately spoiled on one of the game's big secrets, but I will say that I do appreciate how many of the game's themes are communicated abstractly - the huge wall of red I noted in the initial entry; the use of mannequin's dismembered limbs to suggest female body parts used roughly and cast aside. The sequel does seem to be both a step more mature in its use of abstraction than the original and more effective at communicating the symbolism in the moment rather than leaving the player puzzled at the end and forced to resort to external exegesis to glean exactly what just happened.
.
