Hellraiser: Revival is a port of call for those who like the idea of the franchise, but didn’t want to sit through all the horrible sequels like me. The game will be called a lot of things, but a ‘tourist’ isn’t one of them, as it’s an experience clearly made with the heart and soul of the source material in mind, minus the gunplay. This horror staple sets its foundation primarily on violent gore and sex, and I am so glad that Revival remembered that last part.
Minor spoilers ahead for Hellraiser: Revival.
Hellraiser: Revival’s story focuses on the pairing of Aidan Lynch and Sunny; a couple that screams ‘real scary relationship goals,’ while still not being as bad as Joker and Harley. He’s a former medical student and drug addict who used to be in a biker gang, but now this man is living for her, the ambitious, manipulative hedonist who keeps him grounded, and maybe controlled. They’re the type of couple who leaves little notes for each other around the apartment about how hot the salacious acts were last night, and that can’t stop thinking about the other one, teasing their partner, stirring them into a frenzy.
Seeing these types of little ‘gestures’ brings up good, hot memories, until we realize they were always just using each other, whether they realized it or not. At first, the puzzle box – known in this tale as the Genesis Configuration – seems like an odd choice for a new sex toy, but when you’ve tried everything else, why not risk it all for a thrill. The orgasms were fantastic, but were they worth opening up the Labyrinth, summoning Cenobites, and watching her be ripped apart? Poor Aidan, he’s lost, doesn’t understand, and is still being manipulated. He’ll do anything to get her back.
Thrill me
Forget the clunky combat, glitches, and inventory system for a few moments. Hellraiser: Revival excels in its visuals and has a serviceable story for what is needed (pretty solid compared to some of the later films), and it tries to say something. Importantly, it reintroduces an injection of sexuality into the games.
Some modern audiences seem to be against anything overly sexual, fighting against the cast-in-stone notion that “SEX SELLS,” and though sexuality hasn’t been relegated to the cuck chair necessarily as of late, things have obviously dried up a bit. You could be Grand Theft Auto VI and “hang dong,” but those seem more like fraternity antics, while Revival is wearing its skin-tight bondage suit proudly, allowing its nature to permeate through the entire experience and waving its freak flag proudly. Some of it may feel like cheap shock and awe, but the only posers are the ones in the zipped-up masks we’re slaughtering.
The underlying themes in Revival are numerous, but at the core is human choice, especially that of who we believe in, follow, love–and directly adjacent to that is a horror tale that often keeps consent in mind. The game is here for those interested–the people who understand the property and that things are going to get a bit weird, and with that in mind, it never quite crosses any lines. Instead, the game does as promised, showing us such sights, allowing the player to be a little creeped out and a lot turned on at the exhilarating prospects of doing something beyond the flesh.
The presentation is bloody, embracing the violence and fragile nature of the human form, as we stab enemies in all the sensitive, sexy parts, see people flayed, and get used to observing most of the victims inside out. Rooms full of dismembered limbs and dead bodies become the norm, desensitizing us until I think it’s a neat detail that we can interact with the piano before even noticing the severed head on it.
Almost nothing seems out of place. In between some of the scariest moments, after watching the goriest, most horrifying events, Aidan pauses, remembering all the great, rough sex he and Sunny have had, or the time he deleted her messages from that other guy on her phone, before popping into reality again to snap his leg back into place. All that blood, those entrails, the viscera, need a counterbalance, but one that still works to push the story and atmosphere.
You let me penetrate you
Revival starts with a steamy sex scene, and we’re immediately shown that this will be a common occurrence, almost as if, by playing, we were consenting to having our eyes and brains lightly teased, gently violated. There’s a different level of trust when things start heating up, when the play gets rough, but again, the line always seems plainly visible and observed. Which is good, because the elements of this are everywhere.
Sure, we venture into erotic sex clubs and mansions owned by rich, depraved sadists, but there is a lot more waiting to tantalize us. We find recordings of people failing to talk dirty to each other and later their sex tapes, random masks, whips, handcuffs, and other toys meant for extreme penetration. Mannequins are standing around in sexy outfits, dead bodies clad in leather or maid outfits that leave little to the imagination, weapons with names like ‘The Nailer,’ and wall art that ranges from sensual to the truly carnal.
There is a van we have to climb through where the doors have a woman’s legs painted on them, so the player has to open her up to climb through, as a sense of childish, horny humor, while some of the objects we are forced to run from or avoid in the Labyrinth resemble phallic shapes or butt plugs. All of this while enemies yell obscene phrases, giving me flashbacks to being stalked in Manhunt; but I’m not sure I want to know what these horrible henchmen would do to me if I slipped up. At least they have bowls of condoms out, promoting safe sex.
Most of the bad guys are a part of this oversexed cult known as the Scarlet Church, a murderous group who all desire to become Cenobites, or at least be closer to them. These people are sick, and we don’t shed a tear mowing them down, but they’re a clear example of what happens when people let their peculiar tastes go too far, when the violence and sex aren’t balanced with respect.
Revival takes some effort to make sure these villains aren’t fully giving a bad name to BDSM. It manages not to kink-shame, showing that there is a difference between those who embrace their love of sex and pain against those who would misuse the trust that others offer when they give their bodies up. It’s a small detail, but it shows that there is a spectrum, a nuanced space between being full of hormones and bloodlust.
It comes close to asking us to look inward as well. In one prison shower scene, we see pictures of attractive women plastered on the walls and watch ourselves masturbate to them in the mirror, before witnessing our cellmate jerk it to a picture he stole, while being surrounded by other forms of print pornography.
There’s a shower scene we can just sit and watch, but nothing in here looks to overly reward us for perversions as much as to show us it’s okay to think on it, indulge in small, agreed-upon ways. Our character spends so much time naked that we become comfortable. Whether we’re bound to a torture chair with our junk exposed or banging on the old mattress again, it feels like these sexual tendencies and interactions are a part of who Aidan is, and maybe we should embrace our own.
Help me get away from myself
I absolutely loved walking around and exploring this BDSM club, going on a scavenger hunt for sex toys, and spanking the girl in the white leather, even if Aidan chickened out before doing ‘everything’ she asked. There are some good details in the environment, a few humorous elements, and teases that don’t go anywhere, like the door with a prompt that just says, “bad idea.” It all gave me some serious Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines vibes.
It’s an alluring small sandbox, edging us neatly toward the depraved, before we go hang out with Pinhead (played again impeccably by Doug Bradley) waxing poetic in the Labyrinth. Revival wants us to indulge a little before we get to work, but if that’s true, why can’t we use the toys on her, or at least have a prompt to pet the butt? Gamers are excited when there’s a dedicated command for petting the cat; why not a button for spanking here?
Sometimes Revival feels like it’s trying to be Silent Hill on some really cheap crack. Not just because of the combat, the other world, and earning some of its jump scares, but rather the themes and attempts at relationship dynamics. Zora prods Aidan to explain how he knows he actually loves Sunny, how his heart hurts when she’s not around, but it’s a ploy to make him realize he simply replaced one addiction with another. Great sex got him off one substance and hooked on another. Love can be dangerous when both parties aren’t in agreement, when there isn’t that trust and respect we mentioned. We would do anything for Sunny. She’s our twisted lover, but what would she do for us? What’s she doing for herself?
This is a game about body and soul, and sometimes it’s about when women get tired of what their men want — needing much more, outside of the other’s comfort zone. It’s almost easy to feel bad for her, however, because Hellraiser reminds us all that we’re just flesh, all slaves to everything we enjoy if we don’t exert at least a small level of control. It’s a lesson in desire and what happens when those go unchecked; it may also be trying to say something about being better at choosing who we sleep with, give ourselves to, but that’s a whole other conversation. That doesn’t mean it’s bad, and hiding it isn’t healthy either.
