~SPOILERS AHEAD~

After playing through Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice twice and having watched numerous streams of it, I have lots of thoughts racing around my head. It’s a game that consumes you, it grows on you like the darkness that features so heavily in it. It’s like a good song, it leaves you wanting more – you feel it was the perfect duration but, at the same time, too fleeting. In spite of its many technical flaws, Hellblade is already looking like my game of the year. This game is important on so many levels – from its representation of psychosis to what it means for the gaming industry.

I loved its portrayal of main character Senua’s mental illness, there are few developers with the bravery to tackle such subjects but Ninja Theory’s unique position between indie and AAA meant they had the freedom of an indie studio and the knowledge of a much more experienced team. That perfect balance, and a great love for what they were working on, shows in the final game and, hopefully, it will lead to many more developers taking similar risks.

I want to gush (yes, I did use that word!) over the audio design in Hellblade. If you watched the developer diaries on YouTube, you’ll know that Audio Lead David Garcia was brought on board later than most of the team, so I’m unsure if it was his idea to record the majority of the audio binaurally or if it was always intended. In any case, the technique really added to the game’s immersion. It’s also just one reason why it is essential that you wear headphones while playing. Another reason being that it creates a sense of intimacy that is essential to really experience what Senua goes through.

The voices that Senua hears are a constant throughout the game, with few moments of respite. They feed her self-doubt, they knock her back verbally, they tell her she won’t make it, but they also give her words of encouragement and warn her about incoming dangers. It’s this switching back and forth between positive and negative reinforcement, that gives her (and, in turn, you – the player) a sense of unease about whether they are trustworthy or not. Indeed, there are times when you feel doubt about your actions as a player, only to hear those doubts echoed back as a whisper in your ear. Their presence is very draining, it’s frustrating. There were moments in the game where I almost yelled out loud telling them to shut up. And that’s the point. Ninja Theory could have easily pulled back a bit on their intensity but chose not to, because doing so would undermine the representation of a real world condition.

It’s the reason why the combat, although basic, is challenging. One-on-one battles with enemies are relatively easy, it’s only when they surround you that it becomes too much and you have to find a way to manage the battle. It’s an analogue for Senua’s constant battle with her condition, it comes out of nowhere, it escalates, and there seems to be no end in sight.

This uncompromising approach to the game’s authenticity can be felt elsewhere in its design too. There is no HUD, there are no signposts, there isn’t even a tutorial telling you how combat works. The game never prompts you to push a button, leading you to discover the majority of its mechanics yourself. It’s a meta that seems to be lost on a lot of players who don’t “get” the game or what it is doing.

Many would say that claims of a permadeath system in Hellblade, wherein the player’s save file would be deleted if Senua died too many times, were an outright lie by the developer, but the illusion fits perfectly with Senua’s struggle about what is real and what is not. It adds a layer of tension that, even when you know it’s a bluff, you still feel a sense of unease and doubt.

Upon finishing the game, you realise that the events took place in Senua’s mind. The Norse warriors she fought were representations of her struggle with her own personal demons, her father’s cruelty, and trying to come to terms with the loss of her lover Dillion and her tribe who were slaughtered by vikings. The details of Norse mythos were likely enforced by stories told to her by Druth, a fellow Celt she actually met prior to the events of the game when she was living wild as a Geilt.

As Senua walks away to forge new adventures, she asks you, the player, to follow her. This is in contrast to the first moment you see Senua face-on at the start of the game when she seems to show disdain for your presence. There are other moments when she addresses you head on and breaks the fourth wall and in any other game it could seem gimmicky, but it works here. It draws you in as a character, not just a player going through the motions. You are not playing as Senua, you are one of many conflicting voices. Just like her coming to terms with the loss of Dillion, Senua also comes to accept the voices in her head as part of herself.

Mental illness is not always something that can be cured and, more often than not, it is something that the sufferer has to learn to cope with on a daily basis. Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice gives an insight into how much of a struggle that can be.

- Styli