BENDY AND THE INK MACHINE
Driving you round the bendy for all the wrong reasons
Buried beneath Bendy And The Ink Machine’s pomposity are touches of malevolence so effective, they’re breathtaking. When it’s not trying to dazzle you with contrived jump scares or its offensively unsubtle environmental storytelling, you can almost see what Bendy could’ve been. And that’s the scariest thing here, really; not the game itself, but what was lost somewhere in the development process. I take no pleasure in writing that, by the way; to all intents and purposes, Bendy encompasses much of what we’re looking for in contemporary horror, and that’s possibly why its missteps are so irksome. As stunning as its score and visuals are (although that jaundice-toned veneer will grate on you, too, no doubt), Bendy And The Ink Machine is a veritable masterclass in how not to design a horror game. Clumsy combat, mindless fetch quests, derivative environments, and a flat, emotionally-tetherless cast cannot be obscured by story alone, no matter how intriguing that premise is. It’s staggering how such a brilliant concept can be so sullied by a lack of variety, a lack of substance, and a lack of ambition.
You play as Henry, a mild-mannered animator called back to his old studio 30 years after leaving, although the whys and hows are left unsaid. He notes that the place has knocked down walls in the years since he’s left, but his desk – inexplicably secreted in the corner of a corridor – remains untouched. And so begins your adventure, scurrying through the rooms and walkways of Joey Drew’s Studios.
IT’S AN INKER
Well, I say scurry, but Henry doesn’t really do that, even when there are ink-based denizens trawling in his wake. To be honest, a mute protagonist would be preferable to Henry’s dull critique, and his gobsmacking lack of empathy means it’s difficult to build any meaningful relationship with other characters given he can’t even muster a sympathetic shoulder-pat. And while there have been attempts to lace lore through your exploration, everything else seems hellbent on bleeding enjoyment from the experience. The stupid, forgettable enemies. The truncated runtime. The unimaginative puzzles and backtracking. On their own these things are forgivable, but piled together, you start to realise how much is wrong with Bendy… and not just the inky demons trying to kill you.
It’s not the lack of combat that’s the issue; there’s a lot to be said for horror games that quietly layer on that soft, subtle fear, building tension and atmosphere through masterful manipulation and corner-ofyour-eye tricks. Bendy doesn’t pull this off either, though. The game is tripping over itself to show you how clever and spooky it is, often inadvertently broadcasting many of its major story beats, puzzle solutions, and jump scares in advance.