Through that impenetrable fog: 20 years of Silent Hill 2

Silent Hill 2 is a game that’s stayed with me since I first played it, always waiting in that dank crevice of my brain where I’m afraid to linger for too long.

It’s a game that probes at my subconscious every so often, and it serves as a constant reminder of what the human psyche is able to do to itself.

It transcends the average notion of what a videogame is, and contradicts the player’s perception of the world and of themselves, as all challenging art should do.

I pray I’m not the only one who thinks about this game every now and then, and judging by the acclaim and the legacy it’s created since its release on September 22, 2001, I’m certain it’s still skulking around in many people’s minds.

For all of the game’s innovations, it’s difficult to picture an era from which Silent Hill first emerged as a direct imitation to capitalise on the success of Japanese developer Capcom’s survival horror juggernaut Resident Evil, a series that gripped audiences with its tense action, B-movie zombie iconography and emphasis on item management.

James Sunderland’s everyman nature sets him apart from other action-hero horror protagonists of the era, such as Leon Kennedy of the Resident Evil series, pictured above. Image: Capcom.

Seeking to emulate the same blockbuster success, rivals Konami shuttered away its delinquents and underachievers into a small development crew later dubbed Team Silent, and tasked them with the job of doing so.

Instead, they created 1999’s Silent Hill, a PS1 exclusive that prioritised a brooding, industrial atmosphere with an emphasis on the psychological corner of horror rather than the survival-based action favoured by its contemporaries.

The game’s use of obscuring fog, initially implemented in lieu of draw-distance limitations, became the series’ trademark, and fostered an air of claustrophobia and anxiety with every step through the eponymous town.

The unsettling creature design and the deteriorated industrial Underworld were made to reflect the projections of a tormented psyche, allowing for a mutability to the enemy encounters and settings based on which character’s thoughts were being personified.

Taking influence from films like Jacob’s Ladder and the surrealist works of David Lynch, Silent Hill carved its own niche in the horror gaming sphere and with two million units sold, its first entry proved more than a modest success for the higher-ups at Konami.

A sequel was in order, and with Silent Hill’s director Keiichiro Toyama departing Konami to create the Forbidden Siren series at Japan Studios, Team Silent was able to expand on the foundation set by the first game and steer the direction of what the series would become.

Silent Hill is a town shrouded by fog, desolation and mystery that peels back the layers of one’s inner demons. Image: Konami.

While still set in the same town, Silent Hill 2 follows a different protagonist than in the previous game, James Sunderland, who receives a letter from his deceased wife Mary beckoning him to meet her at their “special place” in Silent Hill.

While the first game’s story focused on the occult denizens of the seaside resort town, Silent Hill 2 takes a far more intimate approach, using its central characters to touch on taboo subject matter previously unmined in gaming narratives.

On an interview for Fun TV’s The Making of Silent Hill 2, producer Imamura Akihiro said: “I want[ed] to express what’s deep within the mind.”

CG director and character designer Takayoshi Sato says the psychological horror of Silent Hill 2 is about “uncover[ing] people’s core emotion and their core motivation for life”.

Through the manifestations of the game’s central characters, the game explores the traumas and impact of bullying, sexual abuse, repression and guilt, touching on what Sato refers to as the universal concerns of “sex and death”.

CGI director and character designer Takayoshi Sato explains his creative process for depicting the emotion within Silent Hill 2’s characters in The Making of Silent Hill 2. Image: Fun TV.

Monster deaths were given an intentional “erotic essence” to their movement, and this is embodied in the skulking nurses of Brookhaven Hospital, whose low-cut skirts and busty frames mingle with spasmodic twitches and convulsions in an effort to unnerve the player.

Iconic villain Pyramid Head’s introduction is steeped in sexual imagery as he flails about with two mannequins in suggestive poses; creature designer Masahiro Ito said the character’s “sharpness suggests the possibility of pain”, adding a masochistic layer to a game already saturated with psychosexual undertones.

Ito wanted to achieve a human aspect to the monsters that he could then “undermine [with] weird movements [and] improbable angles”, taking influence from drunk people and stumbling children—the lying figure’s upright stance was directly inspired by a programmer at Konami walking up to Ito with his hands buried in his jacket while dancing along to music.

Silent Hill 2 is often a confusing effort, replete with a dizzying level design and often obtuse puzzles; its world is littered with symbolic imagery (emergent holes, hangman’s ropes, cryptic graffiti, penetrations galore, etc).

in order to convey the complexities and uncertainties of the characters’ subconsciouses. It seeks to obfuscate with every step of the way, finally pulling the wool back from both the player and James’s eyes only once it’s far too late to turn back.

James is assailed by Pyramid Head, now a staple creature of the Silent Hill series, for better or worse. Image: Konami.

Much of the legwork that makes Silent Hill 2 so successful in getting under the player’s skin is in its aesthetic and sound design. Series composer Akira Yamaoka said he sought to get away from the “formal sounds” of Resident Evil’s cinematic flair and explosive action in order to challenge the player’s imagination and evoke a physical reaction throughout their time in Silent Hill.

Much like its predecessor, Silent Hill 2 plays with abstract sound design often atypical even for horror gaming. Monsters scuttle and moan in the distance, and their presence is made known to the player by the crackling white noise of a portable radio, a warning siren now ubiquitous to Silent Hill since its first entry.

Infamously, even James’s footsteps betray a sense of unease towards the player, with each footstep being made to sound different to the last; even the act of walking doesn’t provide a sense of assuredness.

Silence also plays a key factor in disarming the player. Yamaoka says that “selecting moments of silence is another way of producing sounds”, playing further with players’ expectations.

Perhaps horror gaming’s most flagrant sonic contribution, the soundtrack is infected with a longing melancholia that dulls away the hard edges of the first game’s industrial noise leanings.

The music of Silent Hill 2 finds the series’ beating heart, the rhythm of which is often one of near-ambience, cradled with instances of dulcet piano, reverberant trip hop and haunting atmospherics. There’s still plenty of industrial, metal and hard rock tracks to excite or alarm the ears, but more often than not, Silent Hill 2’s music will tug at the heart rather than the gut.