OUTLAST 2
A bold new vision for Outlast that often forgets to be enjoyable
Outlast is scary for a number of reasons. It’s a tense journey through the cult-run wilds of Arizona. Its central story is a bleak tale that bravely, but humanely, tackles some taboo subject matter. It’s pretty dimly lit, too. But the scariest thing about it is how far it strays from the successful ideas of its predecessor in favour of mechanics that can feel considerably less dynamic.
Very early on it becomes clear that something is amiss. I’m not talking about the half-naked, gibbering yokels who keep trying to kill me, but rather Red Barrels’ enthusiasm for subjecting the player to trial-and-error scenarios. The first of these comes only a few minutes into the game as I face a tall, hooded woman wielding a cobbledtogether axe. She looks majestically menacing, and as she looms into view the situation is terrifying. Having fumbled an attempt to turn tail and run, I’m swiftly cut down. On my second attempt I realise that her arrival is triggered by me crossing an invisible line in the dirt. I die again.
A few attempts later, I still haven’t managed to find the exit from this small space, and the rather effective atmosphere has all but disappeared. Instead, I’m just triggering the scripted arrival of a now-irritating AI presence, then making a dash into the darkness – scrappily illuminated by the night vision mode on my video camera – and failing to spot the shallow trench under a barn wall that could provide my salvation.
Worried that I am being disastrously unobservant or particularly stupid, I rope in Ben Tyrer – who’s almost as partial to the first game as I am – to give it a go. My fears are confirmed: six or seven attempts later, the now-exasperated Ben has failed to find a way through and is as confused by the poorly judged difficulty spike of this early encounter as I am.
PAIN AND LONGING
My inability to escape the axewoman isn’t an isolated problem, either. These kinds of vexing
encounters show up regularly throughout the game, the enforced feeling of repetition sapping the game of atmosphere and undermining its surprises. This design ethos isn’t limited to the headline creatures, and many stealth sequences end up feeling claustrophobic for entirely the wrong reasons, as you try to chart rather specific paths through them and die over and over again until you find the one the designers intended. The first Outlast also offered up claustrophobic spaces in which nightmarish, murderous presences patrolled, of course, but crucially it allowed enough breathing room for players to clumsily improvise and messily freewheel their way through to a conclusion.
There is one sequence that repeats the first game’s excellent (if arguably overused) trick. It comes late on in Outlast 2 and has you wading about a flooded basement trying to disconnect some live wires while avoiding the attentions of a torch-wielding pervert. A perfect Saturday night in, in my book. But it also highlights how linear and directed much of the rest of the game feels. Don’t get me wrong, the game is far from on rails, and there are some smartly designed sections that revolve around disorientation in corn fields or pitch-black forests. But you’ll so often find yourself experimenting and dying in order to fathom the way forward that all the fearinducing mystery is sucked out of proceedings by the time you succeed. One bizarre sequence sees me pushing a heavy cart towards a wall so that I can leap over it, moving it in fits and starts as I take breaks to do laps of the area in order to lead a pursuing enemy away and gain enough time to come back and ease the trailer forward another foot or so. Repeatedly drawing them away – it’s just not… fun.
IT FOLLOWS
At least the brilliant lookback mechanic from the first game – where you squeeze a button to look over your shoulder at whatever horror is gaining on you – makes a return, and it’s given a good workout in the numerous chase scenes that pepper Outlast 2. But the balance of the actual pursuits feels a little off as, yet again, you’ll find yourself dying once – maybe twice – before managing to pull off a run that keeps you just ahead of the spitefully swift enemies. These dashes end up feeling more like something from a score attack game than a horror one, but without the score and with a lot more attacking.
Red Barrels’ masterly use of night vision as a gameplay mechanic – and, of course, scare tactic – still has plenty of mileage left in it, however, and the studio toys with this aspect of the game to an even greater degree. Chase sequences through darkness might be interspersed with brightly lit areas that blind you and force you to switch between the two modes as you desperately try to
“THE BRILLIANT LOOK-BACK MECHANIC FROM THE FIRST GAME MAKES A RETURN.”
establish in which direction it would be best to flee.
SOUND IDEA
There’s also a new tool at your disposal in the form of a sensitive microphone attached to the camera. You can use this in conjunction with the night vision, or save some battery and use it on its own to maintain a slightly patchy mental picture of where enemies are loitering. Its advantage, of course, is that it can pick up noise in pitchblack areas, and even through walls, making it particularly useful when you’re trying to find your way through a new area. It’s a brilliant idea, and comes into its own during the cornfield sequences, but the microphone is underexploited for the most part.
Thankfully, the talented cast is not, and the voice actors deliver some haunting performances that elevate an already strong script and some wonderfully-written diaries. The game’s dark themes can be difficult to deal with at times, and some players may find it all becomes a bit too much, but even at its most extreme Red Barrels’ horror never seeks to appal at the expense of the very human tragedy that underpins everything.
Whether that’s enough to carry players through the game’s mechanical and structural missteps is another matter. Red Barrels has tried to create something rather different to the first Outlast, which is a commendable notion, but the result is a game that, while feeling undeniably grander than its forebear, is considerably less enjoyable.
VERDICT
A scary adventure that sacrifices as much gameplay as the cult in its story does followers. It also, unfortunately, suffers when compared to Resident Evil VII. Ben Maxwell