Silent Hill f review - an instant horror classic

Silent Hill 2 is, without a doubt, the most important and celebrated game in the series. As a long-time fan, I wasn't totally sold on the 2024 remake, nor am I excited for Bloober's upcoming take on the original. Silent Hill f was different, though. I felt a good new entry was the best way to reignite Silent Hill for a modern audience, not tampering with what made the first three games so beloved. I was right.

Silent Hill f embodies everything special about the series - particularly Silent Hill 2 - without trying to copy it frame for frame. Its modern graphics and design sensibilities often complement it rather than detract, with developer Neobards changing what it can while staying true to the essence of the series' best. It makes Silent Hill f is an instant classic that sears itself into the canon in a way that Homecoming, Downpour, The Short Message, and many others could not.

We open on a cutscene of our teenage protagonist, Hinako, sitting at a dinner table with her family in small-town 1960s Japan. There's a tense atmosphere. Her father is abusive, her mother is timid, Hinako is rebellious, and we immediately have a taste of what demons this young girl may be facing.

The title screen follows, and these few seconds tease what we can expect from Silent Hill f. An eerily nostalgic melody tells you without a shadow of a doubt that you are, in fact, playing a Silent Hill game. Meanwhile, the nohkan flute (or similar high-pitched instrument) and Japanese lyrics over the top gracefully merge the series' history with its new setting.

From here, you set out on your first quest: 'head down the mountain'. Again, this mundane task mimics the opening of Silent Hill 2. Just as James Sunderland descends into town, Hinako follows in his footsteps. We're just minutes in, and already it's clear that - at the very least - we're in for a tasteful homage.

That said, I wasn't immediately taken by f. A wind whistles through your headset, perhaps even rain, but the trees and leaves around you are oddly static. Hinako moves awkwardly as she stomps down the hill, and it feels clunky in a way that put me off after its expertly executed intro. But don't let those first impressions deter you from continuing into the fog. Despite some stiff animations - I'm looking at you, Shu - Silent Hill f slowly blossoms into something beautiful.

Upon arriving at the bottom of the mountain, you reach Ebisugaoka, a Showa-era Japanese town and home to Hinako and her high school friends. Naturally, Ebisugaoka is wildly different in appearance from Silent Hill, but exploration is still familiar. You don't pick up a map; instead, it gets filled in as you explore more of Hinako's warped hometown. Most of the townspeople are missing, trucks and other debris block your path, many doors are locked tight, and the intricate alleyways of Ebisugaoka feel like they could almost be imposed on top of a map of Silent Hill. I felt at home, even among the monsters.

Rather than the Otherworld as we know it, the secondary location in Silent Hill f is known as the Dark Shrine, and is entirely different in style and gameplay. This is no bad thing. One of my main gripes with the Silent Hill 2 remake, as I elaborate on in my SH2 remake review, is that its modern graphics put too clean a shine on the Otherworld's grotesque surroundings. Where PS2-era graphics lent themselves perfectly to the uncomfortable, claustrophobic atmosphere of SH2's Otherworld, Silent Hill f's equivalent is instead an opulent space that is unsettling for different reasons.

The Dark Shrine isn't simply an alternative version of Ebisugaoka, but a dream world Hinako enters when asleep or knocked out, which happens a lot. It's as beautiful as it is haunting, with outdoor areas formed mostly of bridges surrounded by water or fog, while its interiors are primarily corridors lined with gilded kitsune statues and rooms dedicated to shrines and talismans. It's a separate world where Hinako's fears come to light. The deity of Inari, depicted in Japanese culture by the kitsune fox, is the recurring theme here, representing shapeshifting or, more accurately, transformation.

But just because the Dark Shrine doesn't look like Ebisugaoka, doesn't mean it's not the other half of the same coin. The gradually deteriorating town represents Hinako's current decline in the real world, while the Dark Shrine shows her fears for the future. This is still a Silent Hill story with a new protagonist. New fears. New threats. A new world.

Prior to release, we knew that Neobards was leaning into the Japanese horror trope of 'terror in beauty'. This thread weaves through the entirety of Silent Hill f, not just literally in Hinako's own journey, but also in both the palatial design of the Dark Shrine and the floral disease corrupting Ebisugaoka. Making this even more poetic is the fact that the monsters, particularly the mannequin-like enemies, change as the game progresses and their infection worsens. The more 'infected' they are, the more beautiful they grow, and the tougher they become. Without giving too much away, this seems to represent resilience, particularly that of the game's women. The more these beautiful female forms withstand, the more they suffer through and survive, and the stronger they grow.

This wasn't lost on me as a huge fan of Masahiro Ito. Having worked on almost every Silent Hill game before f, it was disappointing to hear the creator of the mannequin, nurse, and Pyramid Head would have no involvement here. While I maintain, particularly looking at his Sakurahead design from The Short Message, that he would have been a huge asset to Silent Hill f, the artist simply known as Kera has done remarkable work in his stead. Kera's new take on mannequins and their slow descent into corruption is just the start, as childhood toys mutate into monsters, while one of the most striking enemies depicts the horrors of motherhood in gruesome form.

Speaking of monsters, the horror game's combat is deeply satisfying. Every enemy type has a unique moveset to learn, ranging from quick slashes and wide, heavy swings to lunging ranged attacks. The further you progress, the more foes you'll have to face at once, with frequent boss battles putting up the stiffest challenge. At times, it's harder to avoid monsters than in the earlier games, forcing you into combat encounters that you might have hoped to avoid. To make this less of an issue, weapons and health items are prevalent across Ebisugaoka, which sometimes makes Silent Hill f feel easier than it should on the recommended difficulty setting. Some consumables also have a secondary use, as you can trade them in at save points for Faith, which in turn can be used to upgrade your health, stamina, and other attributes.

One returning member of Team Silent is sound designer and composer Akira Yamaoka - possibly why that opening theme sounds so familiar. While a newcomer like Kera may have done an incredible job with her monster designs, having Yamaoka compose Ebisugaoka's soundtrack feels like a necessity. With every step, every sound, and every musical sting, you're again reminded that this is the real deal. That said, Akira is also joined by Kensuke Inage for the Dark Shrine's sounds and music. I initially questioned the decision to have another composer for the Otherworld. However, bearing in mind my earlier thoughts on why the Dark Shrine is right to be a wholly separate location, it makes total sense for Inage to give it a different sound.

Just as important as the setting and combat are the puzzles, which Silent Hill f nails. There are some simple teasers, some you can brute force, and others that require real thought - particularly on hard mode. While they're all new and relate seamlessly to the ongoing story, they again feel of a piece with the most memorable moments from Silent Hill's past.

One of the only complaints I have is that Silent Hill f is perhaps not as subtle as some of its predecessors. The series is renowned for its allegory and leaving room for interpretation, but much of Hinako's fear and loathing is laid on thick. The story, written by first-time SH writer Ryukishi07, maintains some mystery into its back half, but voice lines like "The road twists and turns; it's like I'm walking through my head," leave little to the imagination. While we're not in Silent Hill, a thick fog is cast over both Ebisugaoka and the Dark Shrine, but a literal 'Fog Monster' is maybe a bit too on the nose.

There's also the issue of saving your progress. Desperately searching for a dedicated save point or navigating your way back to one is as much a part of the classic Silent Hill experience as the fog. Sadly, Neobards leaves this in the past by adding a frequent autosave that you can't turn off. Taking a leaf out of the soulslike book, however, the Hokora shrines are also where you'll level up or trade in items, making them an essential feature even if you don't have to rely on them to save.

Perhaps f's more direct storytelling and autosaves are part of a conscious decision to bring the series up to date for a time when attention spans are considerably lower. Despite its '60s setting, it still addresses several very real, current-day issues, such as patriarchal control, female oppression, and mental health. This is Silent Hill, after all.

The thing with making a new game in a beloved series is that comparisons to earlier entries are inevitable and often necessary. If you're going to use the Silent Hill name, you have to do it justice. While I was at times doubtful that Neobards could earn its place in Silent Hill history, f has truly won me over. It's an excellent homage to the series as a whole that simultaneously sets out a strong vision for its future.