Title: Slender: The Arrival
Format: PC
Price: USD 9.99 (Steam)
Most reviews of Gone Home have, while doing their best to avoid spoilers, commented that part of the game’s charm is that it takes a well-worn horror convention and players’ attendant expectations, and then does something completely different. Slender: The Arrival, on the other hand, takes those conventions and does exactly what you expect of them – only on steroids. The game generates a genuinely powerful atmosphere, and it scared me silly on more than one occasion.
This is another game where it is not immediately apparent who the protagonist actually is. I understand why in gaming this is a popular trope – games are inherently about exploration, and gradually learning about who you are as the protagonist can serve as a useful foundation for a game and potentially for ‘shocking twists.’ However, there is inherently a risk involved in this as well – how do I relate to my protagonist character if I don’t know who they are? This is why amnesiac protagonists in literary fiction are often relayed in first-person prose, as a means to bond you to the character. I don’t think it is a spoiler to indicate that the identity of the protagonist is not a central mystery to the plot, so there could have been a quick introduction to them and their motivation for being here – Outlast for example did this without belabouring the point.
However, once over this initial hump, the game does an excellent job of gradual exposition of the story through a number of layered mechanisms. The first is written notes and other documentation. These serve both as collectibles, but also to tell the most immediate backstory of the situation the main character is investigating. Second are environmental attributes which reinforce and additionally inform the broader story. For example, there are messages written on the rock walls of a cave at one point. These are not ‘picked up’ as collectibles, there is no ‘read’ button, and they do not serve as any kind of trigger for the next sequence of the game. They are there, and you can read them if you want. Finally, there is the general atmosphere of the ‘Fakelore’ of the Slenderman, which is experienced rather than exposed in narrative or observed in the environment. These three layers – what which is direct narrative, that which is observed, and that which is inferred – quickly create a compelling and convincing game world
And it is a frightening world too. The locations are varied, and avoid cliché for the most part – no stock Creepy Mansion or Creepy Asylum here. The house at the beginning is modern, it is just apparent something has gone horribly wrong. Several sections of the game are in broad daylight, and in some stunningly realised mountain scenery. There is a section where you cross through what appears to be a housing development, with the foundations of new homes laid. I found myself thinking that an old horror could be revisited and disturbed by such new development – but as this was not explicitly stated and left for my inference, it was all the more convincing. The game allows me to be smart enough to speculate – and reinforces its own atmosphere with it. I took the discovery of the old mine, potentially a cliché, without missing a beat as I was still willing to suspend my disbelief. The gameworld is, in short, credible.
The game follows a simple explore-challenge structure. There is an exploration section where the story is further unfolded, and then a challenge section which ratchets up the tension nicely. The first challenge is essentially a retelling of the original Eight Pages. You have to find, well, eight pages before the Slenderman catches you. The challenge becomes harder as time passes whether you find more pages or not. The first time I caught sight of the Slenderman in my torch beam, I yelped. There. I admit it. The atmosphere is created through the darkness of the environment, gradually intensifying audio cues, and the static and visual distortion of the screen when the Slenderman is nearby. Further, if you fail and are caught, on a retry, the environment will have been reconfigured – you cannot simply learn a map and gradually know where all eight pages are. This keeps the tension up without being unfair – this always feels achievable if you can just avoid that red tie guy long enough….
The developers have tried to vary the second challenge section by having a different type of threat and a different mechanism for dealing with it – focusing the torch beam to temporarily blind a highly mobile foe. However, at heart it is still “find X number of this before the monster gets you,” and this is probably the weakest point in the game. The final challenge is more cohesive, however, and feels like a logical progression in the story rather than a bolted-on time filler.
Controls are simple and functional – WASD to move and Shift to run, plus ESC for options including your scrapbook and TAB to toggle the video camera recording overlay on-and-off. The simplicity suits the game well.
I’ve seen some chatter online about the length of the ‘campaign.’ I’d note that Gone Home received much praise when it is much shorter and twice the price. Completion of Slender: The Arrival also unlocks further content, and the Steam edition has an extended ending. Other indie games have similar length without the same video and audio production values. I know that with those other indie games have different objectives than achieving the same presentation quality as a major studio, of course, but therein is the point: Slender: The Arrival has its own objectives. It does what it sets out to do, and it does it exceptionally well.
Review Guidelines: How I review
I am puzzled by conventional reviews. How can they know I will enjoy one game to 86% of theoretical maximum enjoyment, yet another only 72%? What is maximum enjoyment? What does 72% of maximum enjoyment feel like? This doesn’t tell me what I want to know.
Personally, I think the key factors in assessing a game are Story, Game Mechanics, and Frustration Factor.
- Story: I’m aware of the well-worn ‘games-don’t-need-story’ argument. For some games I think that is true, and others I do not. And for those games that ‘don’t need a story’ then they sure as heck better play well.
- Game Mechanics: This deals with the technical realisation of the story world (or the raison d’etre for those games that ‘don’t need story’). I don’t think separate scores for graphics, sounds, and gameplay are helpful. Do the mechanics support the game? If so, I will say so here.
- Frustration Factor: I think again this deserves equal ranking with Story and Game Mechanics. After all, these are games, and unlike TV shows or books, need our active participation. I don’t care if it’s got a great story if the controls get me killed. I don’t care how pretty it looks if a cheap boss takes me down time and again. As a working person, I don’t have summer holidays or whole weekends to battle through poor design. This is nothing to do with difficulty – there are plenty of difficult, but fair games (see the excellent article on this here)
- Overall: My final and of course entirely subjective opinion as a result of the three factors. I will even get a little bit tasty and think I have the right to make a recommendation. I don’t think numbers/percentages tell the whole story, instead I find that games broadly fall into the following categories:
Recommended: a great game, genre independent. This will get a lovely gold skull of approval.
Recommended for genre fans: lacks broader appeal, but genre fans will love it. This will get an affectionate pink skull of approval.
For genre fans only: genre fans with time on their hands will get some enjoyment but far from a must-have. This will get a mildy entertained skull.
Avoid: ’nuff said. We’re in unhappy black skull territory here.
That’s what I’d want to know to make a decision. I hope it’s useful.
Comments