Reveil Review (Yeoh-Sidhe)
The problem with me is the fact that I am still mentally stuck in times when psychological horror meant a Silent Hill. Perhaps a Siren. Therefore, I approach the genre with significantly heightened expectations regarding the narration, storyline and characters. As a result, I have formed a list of red flags that make me instantly detest a horror game the moment I see one. Some of the more prominent examples are:
- the psychological horror tag itself, especially if immediately followed by:
- a child’s – probably a little girl’s – drawings with colorful crayons and shaky lines
- a little girl running away screaming, “Catch me, daddy!’
- a cracking gramophone record
-a music box with a wind-up key and a rotating figurine
- a circus
- flashbacks of the happy times, preferably in black and white, bonus points for artificially cheery voices to accentuate how happy the times were
- repressed trauma
- protagonist’s amnesia
- ‘it was all in your head’ plot twist
All of the above have been mercilessly recycled for at least 30 years now and instantly betray the lack of any uniqueness or inspiration on the side of the developers. Consequently, I view them as a promise of a tedious and generic experience in waiting. The opening of Reveil employs all of them, with the exception of the ones naturally reserved for the end-game chapters. At this point there is not much the developers could have done to make me less interested in their game. Maybe with the exception of making the title a pun.
The Usual Suspects
It goes exactly as expected from there. Some exploration, reading, basic interactions, occasional use of an item (mostly keys or tokens for opening the doors), an irritating minigame (the kind where you guide the marble ball towards the end of a maze by tilting the board or ride a bike through an obstacle course by pressing left and right), a labyrinth of corridors, very basic stealth and escape sections. There are also numerous collectibles to be found in each of the game’s five chapters, irritating, sudden, loud noise-based jumpscares and absolutely no sense of tension.
Reveil looks good and sounds decent – except the terribly miscast and absolutely uninspired protagonist’s voice actor who obliterates the immersion any time he’s given the chance.
Nornography*
The issue at hand is the difference between the Konami's and Pixelsplit's approach to handling the horror genre. It is not unlike what Sir Terry Pratchett once defined as the distinction between erotica and pornography. The first one teases one’s sensitive areas with the tip of the feather while the other repeatedly slams the recipient over the head with a dead, frozen chicken. Not trying to kinkshame here. If anything, my point is that perhaps I have judged this game too harshly for not matching my personal preferences.
Then again, it is rather difficult to point out what exactly Reveil does more successfully for the genre than the original Layers of Fear. The environments are more varied and pleasant to the eye (at times), and there are two or three interesting puzzles, but beyond that, both games offer a very similar experience despite a nearly ten-year gap between their release dates.
I’ve seen one of the endings but despite the fact that all the player needs to do to view them all – 5 in total – is to replay the final checkpoint of the last chapter, I had absolutely no desire to do so. In the end, I’ve got only myself and my lack of ability to read for important details to blame. Reveil is exactly the kind of game I would have removed from my wishlist and instantly forgotten the moment I noticed it had been released by the Daedalic. This may be a notable conclusion for this review since I am not particularly fond of that studio’s narration. Therefore, if you are fine with their earlier works, your experience with Reveil may not be as bleak as mine.
* Deities of fate in Norse mythology. Are briefly mentioned in the final chapters. Also, a pun for a pun.
As always, do with this whatever you wish, and as always
Try to have a wonderful life.