Survival Horror of the Fittest, pt. 2

Last time on Ticket Stub Refund…

“We’re going into the HIVE.” SECURITY ALARMS. “I. HAVE. AMNESIA!” “Deactivate the little girl laser robot, stat!” GUN FIRE. “Zombies!!!” “You’re all going to die down here.” GROANS and UNDEAD MOANS. “*Gasp*, my amnesia has amnesia!” “The Pokémon has gone AWOL. Repeat, Lickitongue is on the loose!” TRAIN WHOOSH. “Oh Christ, we lost the generic sassy Latino.” “We’re free!” “Haha! Double-cross.” “Noooo~!” Zompocalypse………..

And now…

Last time I decided to pit two mighty game franchise fanbases of the past decade against each other, by comparing the underwhelmingly pedestrian Resident Evil movie to the blandness that is today’s post, Silent Hill. Without wanting to pick sides, based on the only good game either franchise have ever produced (churning out poorly concived sequels and prequels like parents that have kids for the tax benefits rather than because they want them and are proud of their achievements), I prefer Silent Hill [2]. While Resident Evil [4] has action, story and swashbuckling action in abundance, Silent Hill [2] was steeped in atmosphere, psychosexual imagery, and purpose. Sure it handles like a remote controlled shopping trolly operated by a drunken, thumbless 85 year old with sever cerebral palsy, and yes its central character had the unfortunate personality, spine and likability of post-election Nick Clegg, but the game itself crafted a world that was unique to it and used it to scare the living shit out of the player. Now I’m not going to waffle on about how deep, meaningful and symbolic Silent Hill 2 is (a much more concise and hilarious account can be found on Zero Punctuation: ( because it’d only hammer home the utter disappointment of the 2005 movie. When I say the town of Silent Hill is the most interesting character in the game it’s a compliment; when said about the film it’s an indication of how truly dull and lifeless this entire production is. Perhaps it’s fitting that thick fog should be so prominently featured, as these 90-odd minutes are about as interesting as flying through clouds on a 16 hour direct flight to Australia – and the only onboard movie is Silent Hill! Man this is going to be an arduous one…

*WARNING: for the purpose of Silent Hill-esque atmosphere, this review will feature moments of tension and scare tactics – in HD, DTS, 3D!!! Readers with nervous conditions should buckle their sphincters now*

Part 1: ♪ ♫ I would do Anything for Love, buuuuut I won’t go to Silent Hill

Rose and husband Christopher (look kids, it’s Sean Bean [APPLAUSE. APPLAUSE.]) are sitting down to a nice relaxing evening in their quaint home bordering a motor way and industrial precipice (it was only when they noticed the open-air lion enclosure and tuba lesson workshop next door that they enquired about a retail markdown).

Christopher: Oh Rose, I’m so happy. Are you happy darling?

Rose: Quite happy dear.

Christopher: Bolly, then we’re all happy! Oh how emotionally invested I am in the happiness and safety of my family, as would anybody watching us right now.

Rose: By the way, how is Sharon?

Christopher: The daughter we adopted because your womb is a failure and my sperm are ineffectual after being exposed to the Golden Eye laser strike? She was having one of her ‘night terrors’ and wandered off into the garden.

Rose: But that’s where we keep the main road D:

The cliff too – don’t you go forgetting about that nasty-ass cliff you knew about when you bought the property for your mentally deficient sleepwalking child. Sharon is lost in her FUCKING HORRIBLE NIGHTMARISH VISIONS, teetering on the edge of the vertical drop into Jagged Rock-ville (if you were so concerned about the cliff you could at least have put up a guard rail of a fence). Rose has to run across the road in front of  waaaay too many cars for a quite country road in the dead of night, then does that curious thing when people lunge and throw people from danger, which seems neglectfully dangerous at the best of times but thrice-fold when done atop a vertical drop in the dark. Before the sudden smack of planet earth to the head courtesy of her mother can jolt her awake, Sharon sees…how to describe it; you know the Lions Gate Film thing with all the rusted ancient cogs turning against a flaming background – well it’s basically that with a few cages thrown in, and at the far end is a little wee girl in a blue dress and skin with a complexion that’d make Pan’s Labyrinth’s Pale Man look like an avid sunbather, beckoning Sharon as she crawls closer and OH MY GOD SHE’S BEHIND YOU RIGHT NOW BUT DON’T LOOK OR SHE’LL GET REALLY ANGRY.

Sharon: Silent Hill! SILENT HILL!!!!  

Rose: Yes honey ‘silent hill’; I’m not patronising you in the slightest.

Christopher: I came as soon as I saw the hard part was done. Ah, I see you stopped her from jumping too – that’s a bonus.

Rose: The nightmares are getting worse 😦 Why did you insist on getting our child from the crack-baby orphanage?

Christopher: *distasteful snort* Like I’m paying top money for a used kid. C’mon, let’s get her sedated and chain her back up in the basement.

Rose: I love you honey 🙂

Next day Rose sits with Sharon in the garden reading a book and flipping through pictures her daughter has drawn.

‘I call it the Parade of misery that is my life: Psychosis in Vogue’

Rose: Sweetie, you know that place you keep having dream about?

Sharon: The ones that want to make me take hot needle to my eyes to burn the horrors out?

Rose: Those are the ones; well as it’s your birthday I figured I’d take you there. Oh what fun we’ll have 😀

Sharon: Couln’t I get a pony – maybe some sessions with a psychotherapist?

Rose: We’re. Going. To. Silent. Hill!

By all means, drag your psychotic child to a place known only for its ability to cause children to endure sleep terrors and attempt suicide to appease your own nosiness. If only my parents had done instead of providing a loving stable home life, I too might be cured of my crippling fear of the CLOWN THAT’S HIDING UNDER YOUR SHEETS. She runs this by Christopher, who is clearly sharing my doubts of her master plan to make Sharon confront her fears (“couldn’t we just throw her in a bath of spiders?”), so like all truely devoted mothers she abducts her daughter and high-tails it outta town before the purely selfish father can say anything to prevent her from always being right, because she is ‘speaking as a mother’. NAAAAAAGGGG RAGE!

Along the way Rose stops off in a hick-town dinner to do her business and ask the local flavour if she’s heading in the right direction; after all, ♪ ♫ some folk’ll never give directions, but then again some folk’ll, like:

The patrons warn her against going, but ‘as a mother’ Rose clearly knows best and ignores their beseeching pleas. Else time, Sharon, her most treasured daughter and light of her life, is locked in the car with the window rolled open a crack – because adoptees are no better than dogs. A police woman whom I can’t decide whether is hot or not due to her lesbian hair approaches the kid and asks her if she’s okay in there, with her sketches of burning kittens and charcoal stick-children in empty playgrounds. Rose returns and throws one of those self-righteous, thus obviously hiding something,  ‘I’m a good mother/ I didn’t steal her/ those scars where there when I got here/ I have no idea why she’s be recoiling in fright from me’ fits that is so perfect for drawing unwanted police attention. Mommy Knows Best drives off in a grump, and the suspicious officer follows, pulling her over. Okay, good now simply explain to the policewoman that you’re very sorry but you are on the way to an important meeting aaaand Rose is driving off at high speed….*sigh*. So the child-traumatising kidnapper is now on the run from the police because she didn’t think it convenient to her to explain she isn’t a nut case in order to avoid a social worker taking her daughter, because she knows best. As the chase continues further into the forest strewn mountain the fog thickens, obscuring the little girl in the familiar blue coat standing in the road until the last second, leading Rose to crash the car in spectacular style.

When she wakes up Sharon is gone (I’d run from the mad bitch too is if a situation as perfect as this presented itself. Hell I’d skip on broken legs and shattered knees to get away – going into Silent Hill if need be). She spazzes out but Sharon won’t come to her piercing shrieks of her name, surprise surprise. With no other option left aside from calling for help/ waiting by the car/ going back for help from the policewoman and so on, Rose wanders gaily into town to play a game of ‘find the hay in the massive stack of needles’. Silent Hill is, well, silent; a boarded up ghost town of derelict houses and empty shops despite no signs of damage. Coming up against a gaping chasm cutting the town jaggedly in two she meets resident Crazy Lady, only instead of cats or litter-picking this woman’s gimmick is schizophrenia and gibberish rhymes.

Rose: You there, bedraggled woman twitching in her own filth.

Dahlia: You mean us?

Rose: Regardless of your dubious grip on sanity, I was wondering if you had seen a little girl?

Dahlia: I have an egg in my shoe that tells the mice in my ear what to say 😀

Rose: I know I’m gonna regret this, but I have a picture of her here in my necklace.

Dahlia: She isn’t yours, she’s mine. She is Alessa, my daughter who has done most terrible, terrible things to me…. Can we keeps her?

Rose: Of course, and then after that why not come over and house-sit my Faberge egg collection – I’ll even pay you in advance with matches NO YOU CAN’T KEEP HER YOU PSYCHOTIC FREAK!

Creepy sirens begin to wail that make Dahlia scurry away into the thick fog.

Rose: Come back, I haven’t finished using sarcasm at you!

The sirens rage on as a strange darkness rolls over the town. Rose takes the sensible course of action and descends down a dark alley where she’ll be safe from the shadows in the company of muggers/rapists/crazy bag women. Ahead of her is a playground made of rust where a man in biohazard gear from a horror film about a murderer stalking mines in 1960’s Yorkshire is tired/hung/melded to the basketball court fence by his entrails – still alive. Then things get strange as rubber face babies lurch screechingly from the buildings, crawling over Rose as they twist and warp, hollow eye sockets and mouths glowing with unseen inner fire LIKE THE HELLBEAST ON THE OTHER SIDE OF YOUR CURTAINS WATCHING YOU THIS VERY MOMENT. They engulf her but when she opens her eyes she is lying on the floor in a shabby building once more in the pearly white mist of daylight. At this point as a rational person I’d decide that Sharon isn’t worth it. A parent’s love can only go so far, and man-fences and burnt babies with funhouse faces is the line. If the daughter in question were perhaps Misuzu Kamio, sure there’d be some reconsideration.

I’d risk the spider-infested tunnels of Mordor, face the Balrog of Moria, and spit in the eye of Sauron for her, and anyone who’d say different is a liar or soulless

For the record Sharon is not Misuzu Kamio. Even if I was obliged to love her as my daughter, her negative actions to this point far outweigh her chances of me risking more freaks to ensure her safe return home. Here are her main contributions to the events to date:

1)      Reminding a desperately baron and childless couple that they’ll never be real parents (come get me you fake fostering adopters).

2)      Proving said spouses with a mentally unstable, and therefore inferior child to rest all their shattered dreams on which she could never hope to live up to.

3)      Keeping Rose, dead inside from their inability to conceive naturally, locked into a hollow husk of a marriage with Sean Bean at his most tedious for the sake of their ‘child’ – each spouse blaming the other for the inability to conceive.

4)      Preventing a single sound night’s sleep after years of night terrors, sleep walking and suicide attempts.

5)      Acting as a beacon to the Mountains of Madness and the Shoggoths residing there.

6)      Decorating the fridge with her drawings of pain and misery.

7)      Getting Rose suspected of kidnapping and resisting arrest.

8)      Wandering into the jaws of Hell without even leaving a note informing Rose not to venture into danger to find her.

9)      Getting her mother trapped in a nightmarish limbo reality forever *SPOILER*

At around point 4 I’d be happy to fuck it and move on with my life. Rose is less inclined to list than I, so fails to see the benefits of her predicament. Meanwhile Christopher has just realised that he hasn’t seen his family in over a day and runs from the house – returning to set the DVD-R to record – then away he goes again. He comes to the Silent Hill county line where police have cordoned off the area in response to the crashed bike of police officer Cybil (aka Officer MacLesbian-Haircut) – no body has been recovered, and with Christopher’s insistence that he go find his wife and child, Officer Thomas, a former Silent Hill resident, accompanies him on a search for the 3 women. They find the town free of fog despite walking the same beat as Rose at that moment. He then discovers a photo of Alessa, who does indeed look like Sharon…a bit…if you squint…and rub chlorine in your eyes.

Thomas: It’s no good, this town’s deserted – has been ever since that coal fire took out the town 30 years ago. Killed practically everyone.

Christopher: Then how come all the buildings are still standing? And why is there no fire damage?

Thomas: Buddy, does my badge read ‘fire marshal’ to you?

Christopher: You don’t have a badge, that’s a cracker with ‘Police Officer’ written on it in marker pen. And police officer is spelt wrong. Also, you’re not wearing any pants.

Thomas: That’s it; I don’t tell you how to wear your pants – get outta here ‘fore I arrest yuz under section 384: Pointing out police incompetence.

Rose returns to her car where Officer MacLesbian-Haircut handcuffs her, demanding to know what she did to ‘that little girl’, having blanked out the desperate pleading cries of Rose. Her police bike is damaged after the tumble she herself took in the chase into town, and the radio hisses with interference. Rose is frog marched away – if they can’t ride out of town she’ll just have to walk her the 35 miles back to the station, ignoring that a child is missing and possibly grievously injured. However the world seems to end at the town borderline; the road, mountain and world beyond literally torn away and extending below into an endless mist-clad oblivion. They are cut off; stranded; fucked. Huh, strange, but maybe now would be a good time to sit and talk to Rose, get her side of the story then go in search of Sharon as she staggers through an earthquake zone…or you could continue to keep her cuffed and treat this like any other day as you’re doing, whatever.

Cybil: You’re in big trouble ‘mamm. I’m arresting you on grounds of child-napping with inadequate drawing materials, reckless speeding, endangerment of a passenger, avoiding arrest, making a child disappear with dark magic, causing an earthquake, and suspected involvement in 9/11.

Rose: I was only doing what I thought was right for my little girl – as a mother!

Cybil: Christ you are just the worst kind of person.

Without warning they are attacked by a walking, acid-spewing vagina man (c’mon this is Silent Hill, did you expect something normal like a scorpion with bat wings and dog legs? This isn’t Resident Evil’s parade of Digimon y’know). So does this Rocky Horror Picture Show reject represent Rose’s guilt at her baron womb and perceived fear of failure as a woman/mother, or Cybil’s lesbian (?) sexual fantasies twisted into dark monstrosities? Neither, it’s the third option: it looked good in the game where it had context (James’ guilt complex over his sexual desires, fucked over by his guilt complex for his dead wife) so they put it in the film.

*Side rant*: this is precisely why the American sequels beginning after Silent Hill: The Room lacked the punch of the predecessors, aside from bad storytelling, unsympathetic or relatable or empathetic characters, incomprehensibly shittier weapon mechanics and no well constructed subtext: the monsters were weird for the sake of weird. The original beastery of Silent Hill represent the inner demons of the protagonist, reflecting their personal fears and desires and transforming them into deformed lethal representations. Not that Double Helix Games understood this, instead thinking “Neat, these baddies are fucking weird. Hum, how to compete…got it! A shark-banana with crow legs”

Alright, I admit it: this whole review was done purely for me to take a swipe at Beast War’s Air Hammer, but look at him FFS!

Back in the fictional world Rose cheeses it while Cybil shoots at the hobbling vag-strosities to no effect, before following Rose’s masterstroke example.

Part 2: A Holiday in Freud Land USA 

The two women enter the town. Rose is de-cuffed and runs into the nearby school building upon seeing a little girl in blue disappear inside. To me all little girls look the same (you can’t be picky when you grab them off the street after all), but surely to Rah the kids own mother would recognise it isn’t her before running into the monster infested town without the armed back-up provided by Cybil! Alone again Rose discovers the old desk of Alessa, the daughter Dahlia mentioned earlier between garbled expletives and gnawing on rat skulls. She has mild, inconvenient flashbacks of Alessa’s tormented childhood where she was persecuted as a witch because she could do math despite being a girl (yes, 1980s Regan America were dark, God-fearing days indeed). Outside Rose sees men like the one she say in the playground, only without chain-rail fencing as external organs, forcing their way into the school while holding a caged canary. She hides in the bathroom with them in pursuit, however the sirens begin their eerie wailing and they retreat as the world flakes and peels into the decayed alter-world. Unphazed by her recurring trips to Bizzaro World, she has another flash of Alessa’s troubled past when she was chased by the girls into the bathroom (kids can be so cruel), where she was raped by the janitor (janitors can be so…wait that’s messed up). One last vision about a locked door and back to this stagnating cesspit of a reality she returns.  Rose decides “maybe I should check the stall where she was brutally molested by that mop-wielding pederast….”, discovering:

a)      A first aid manual

b)      The grizzled remains of Old Man Jenkins the on-site child molester tied up in barbed wire

c)       Used fruit

d)      A year’s supply of ghosts

e)      None of the above

Of course it’s ‘b’. Life is ALWAYS ‘b’ 😦

Those who answered ‘b’ come down and collect your prize: a key inside the mouth of the mangled corpse! It’s what Rose always wanted – enough to ram her soft digits into the maw of a dead body in a place where men can live as fenced fixtures and vaginas have the vote. Shock and buggery if the bound body of Old Man Wilkins doesn’t follow her blindly in broken spasmodic puppet movements once she discovers the exit door is jammed. Rose escapes just as the Clive Barker reject is about to…erm, what can this guy do? It’s not like he has claws, eyes, fangs, weapons or anything beyond one usable arm at a time. Worst he could to is flail against her ineffectively with floppy probing digits, and as that sounds like something any women having sex with me must contend with, she should suck it up and take it till it’s over and I he rolls over and cries himself to sleep. Digression over, the hallway is no less safe than gay mouse a bag full of homophobic snakes, swarming as it is with large carnivorous cockroach things that eat the Hazmat men.

Outside in the schoolyard encircled by the buildings walls we meet Pyramid Head, the official mascot of the franchise despite him having no bearing to this tale – or any other tale outside of his game of origin. Once again, here is a character/creature specifically designed to represent Silent Hill 2’s James’ repressed masculine libido; a gigantic, muscular fellow with a bell-end for a head and wielding an over-compensatory broad sword for impaling the soft yielding flesh……mmm wha’? Sorry lost in my own erotic thoughts. Anyway, unless Rose has a hitherto unmentioned penis envy (unlikely as she has thus far been portrayed as the atypical mother character) or fears a good cocking (again, doubtful – that’s more Lesbos Cybil’s bag) then Triangle Face has no other point being here than to wave and bow for the ‘fans’ to wank each other off to. She reunites with Cybil as the cockroach things (what the not, lets run with the sexual theme [the one NOT being thought about by the producers] and label them as monstrous pubic lice) close in on them and forcing them to trap themselves in a closet. The wee shits munch their way through the door as Rose struggles to prize the vent off the wall and Cybil hold them off with her last bullets, when who should join the party but Isosceles Features, sliding his mighty hetero sword in and out of the door (there’s an image to make you climax – if you’re an overweight goth woman into Marlin Manson and Todd McFarlane). The fan comes free and they scamper to safety, at which point they have a kip (the fuck!?).

The darkness has cleared by the time they wake up in a church belfry with a chirpy young woman, Anna, who follows them around the hotel they’ve found themselves in. One of the doors, the room matching the key Rose found in the mouth of the dead janitor paedophile tied up with razor wire (I am getting so sick of having to write that sentence on a daily basis!), isn’t there. Anna tells them this is a bad place, demonstrating that no one residing in this town is going to be attending any Mensa meetings any time soon, and declares that she’ll take them to The Church to meet the towns’ people.

Rose: The townspeople wouldn’t happen to have any gasmask wearing man-hulks with canary cages among its ranks, would it?

Anna: Loads of ‘em 😀

Rose: Shiiiit D:

As they approach the building, now for the first time surrounded by people in drab attire that have been curiously absent till this point, the sirens belt into life and the bums rush for The Church becomes a frenzied stamped as Bizzaro World comes for them, Equilateral Extremities plodding after them as they hurry up the endless stair case.

“I told you we should have taken the off-flight at the west wing”

As the last two people (no prizes for guessing who they are) scurry into the Church, Pointy Face kills Anna in the most humane and sacred way she could hope: skinned alive in one pull, and then flung at Mach 10 at the thick oak door to become a gloopy explosion of pulped flesh. You kids at home can follow and learn too, using the simple mathematic equation of woman + force + wood = flying entrails. There under the Holy protection of the sacred building they meet Christabella, head of the cultists making up the remaining residents of the town, who tells them of a demon in the heart of the town in the old hospital basement (any fucking excuse to fit in one more fanwank session by throwing in the only other recognisable staple of the franchise: the nurses. Ode to bloody joy). Rose convinces Christabella to take them there with a hunting party and kill the beast.

Christabella: Well…we were going to live in abject fear for the rest of your lives…but you’re plan sounds faster.

Part 3: Never Count on a Cult in a Crisis

I’m certain Christopher has been up to things since last we left him, but frankly this forced in subplot (a decision by the studio to prevent this being a total tit-fest) adds nothing to the plight of Sharon that we can’t learn from the exposition coming later, so fuck it I’m ignoring him. However for you purists out there who like to have the whole story, it’d be inconsiderate to deprive you of your obsessive, self-hating needs, so here’s a special treat just for you:

Christopher: Bluuuuuuuuuuuugh!

He ughs a meh over in the nuh, then uses his findings and goes over to * head smack on table*.

Christopher: Bluuuuuuuuuugh?

Well I hope that’s satisfied you. On with the main plot: the one with boobs, peril and psychosexual abominations.

Christabella, which by the way is a wonderful name for a woman, right up there with Ulgar and Gorgonzola, and her band of armed goons in protective gear accompany Rose and Cybil to the hospital elevator. Strange that only the men are the ones in environmental protection suits. Is this a statement that the woman can choke to death on toxic air, or a subtle way to keep attention on the women, who are the only characters being developed here in this diegesis steeped in motherhood subtext? Certainly Christopher can’t be so inhumanly bland without this being the intention….right?.

Rose: So we just go down there, kill the demon and everyone’s happy as Larry?

Christabella: You are correct. Praise Jeebus!

Hunting Party: *mumbled* Praise Jeebus…

Christabella: By the way, that is a pretty necklace you have there. May I see it up close and then open it to reveal whatever you have inside?

Rose: My, what a normal request. Sure, here you go.

Christabella: Hark, it’s a picture of the demon!

Rose: What? No, that’s my daughter Sharon.

Cybil: Wait I’m confused. Your daughter is a demon?

Christabella: Well that’s all the proof I need: kill her! Kill the witch!

Cybil: Eesh, sucks to be you Rose.

Christabella: And her lackey – to be on the safe side.

Cybil: Daw figs 😦

Cybil forces Rose into the elevator then holds back the lynching mob with her gun, firing a round into the air which causes them to partially retreat.

Cybil: Go! I’ll hold them off with my last bullet.

Christabella: She’s only got one left, move in for the kill!

Cybil: PISS!

Rose: Thanks Cybil, I’ll never forget your brave sacrifice.

Cybil: The fuck you talking about ‘sacrifice’? I meant push the ‘basement’ button while I stall for time.

Rose is already gone.

Cybil: Sonova bitch!

The mob swarm Cybil and beat her bloodier than the 17th wank of the day.

Beyond the town boarders there appears to be no escape from the malevolent clutches of Silent Hill, as the dreary fog descends upon the neighbouring town’s police records department…. Ah no, my mistake, it’s merely the beige fog that is Christopher’s segments, clogging up the narrative with exposition we neither wanted, needed or care about when we could be watching women fighting monsters! While he should be commended for finally playing a character who doesn’t back stab, betray or otherwise dick-over at least one member of the cast, Sean Bean could have picked a better place to do it that here as one of cinemas most needlessly boring characters. Thomas catches him snooping and fills him in on what he has just discovered; Silent Hill had a thriving population of cultists who had a habit of ritualistically sacrificing witches. One occasion it went wrong and the town burnt down, and while some like Thomas escaped the majority (almost entirely the cultists) died in the blaze. Fun story, all it was missing was a monologue from Rorschach to really give it that edge of hopelessness and cynical pessimism.

Back in the town the search party have found Sharon and drag her away, Dahlia desperately fighting them as she tries to take the scared-shitless girl for herself. Ha, and to think that until now the worst thing Sharon had to deal with were recurring bad dreams. Now thanks to her mother’s nosing around in business not her own she’s been in a car crash, seen unspeakable beasts, spent a day on the run, and now has a choice between smothering at the chapped withered teat of a babbling mental patient reeking of piss, or death by Wicker Man courtesy of a fanatical cult. Nice parenting Rose. Mother knows best after all.

The express elevator to Hell (for once not an overstatement) drops at alarming speed until finally reaching the basement. Things down here have the shabby, time eroded aesthetic of the world after the sirens ring in the town, so looks like for all her religious crazy Christabella was pretty on the ball about this being Satan’s holiday home. Round the corner await, not one or even two, but a FLEET of no-face nurses. A hoard of scantily clad, busty nurse cosplayers would be Cybil’s idea of Valhalla no doubt, but for the sexually repressed, erotically numb Rose it’s another horror betwixt her and her goal. They just stand there. Motionless and awkwardly posed like puppets, they wait until she shines a light on them to spring into lurching action, suggesting the eyeless things are photoreceptive. As ‘Topless Robots’ Rob Bricken would say, “Sir I doubt the validity of you light-seeking blind women.”

Hey pervert, my eyes are…WERE up here…once *sob*

 This adds an unexpected element to the mix, as Rose climbs blindly through the tangle of creaking arms and legs, finding time to plot a scheme so complex in its mechanics that it’s a wonder she got stuck behind a bathroom door mere hours ago: she snares the attention of one nurse in the crowd, whom slashes out with a scalpel, slitting the throat of her neighbour where Roses’ head was seconds before, causing the other nurse to retaliate. In the confusion Rose turns on the light throws it into the crowd and runs out the other side unscathed (a missed comedic opportunity would have been her ending up back where she began, but I guess it’d ruin the moment). It actually worked; despite the plan having all the complex mathematics of a breakfast machine, she calculated all the variables in under 10 seconds :O!!

Are YOU make something as complex as a breakfast machine in under 30 seconds? Rose Da Silva could.

Rose: Phew, I made it past those disgusting she-beasts –

Nurse: We have feelings too y’know!

Rose: – now all that’s left is to face the demon making all the monsters…and kill it…. Maybe I should reconsider the death by stabbing.

Inside the room at the foot of the corridor is a large medical tent presided over by a sex nurse – face and all 😀 When Rose approaches the bed the little girl in Blue, for sake of a name we’ll call her SATAN, tell her the story of Alessa, the local girl deemed too goody-goody by her peers, impregnated by a janitor, who kept the child and was accused of being a witch. When Christabella and her congregation tried to burn her in the hidden room in the hotel, the fire spun out of control and engulfed half the town. Still alive but very badly burnt (surely not as bad as Mustafa from Austin Powers :S), Alessa was discovered, mistaken for bacon, delivered to a butcher, recognised as not-ham and taken to a local hospital. There she became ubber pissed at her position, taking out her frustrations by blinding the nurse – the one now weeping in the corner with NO FREAKING EYELIDS OVER HER BLIND EYES – until Satan and her blue coat turned up to offer her a chance to avenger herself against the towns folk who escaped the fire and skulk in the Church where she cannot get them (blasted Jeebus *grrrr shake fist*)

Satan: I want to make you a deal.

Rose: Make a deal with the devil. Erm, what happened to Dr Faust again?

Satan: He was fiiiiine. Wanna deal or not?

Rose: Do I get cool chameleon armour like Spawn?

Satan: ‘Kay, for the record: I’m NOT Malebolgia – he’s a different sort of all-powerful Satan. Besides, no one’s seen him since the whole Spawn debacle of ’97… 

Rose: Then in no way do I see this as terrible life choice 😀

Satan: kewlio. It’s real simples: I need you to go to the Church.

Rose: Liking it…

Satan: Go up to Christabella.

Rose: With you so far…

Satan: And let her kill you.

Rose: Done and done. By the way, what do I get out of it other than helping a skinless witch whore get her revenge on a bunch of cultist murderers by desecrating a place of worship so the devil can slaughter then in a uniquely horrendous fashion?

Satan: Want your daughter back?

Rose: Man, I’d forgotten all about her. How’s she been?

Satan: She’s fine. Oh and FYI she’s Alessa’s bastard daughter – forget the fact that the time line of events don’t match up and just roll with it.

Rose: So do I get cool chameleon armour like Spawn?

Satan: You’re thinking of Malebolgia – different sort of Satan. Besides, no one’s seen him since the whole Spawn debacle.

Cybil reassures Sharon that everything will be okay, she’ll make sure she’s safe. Pan out to see both women rope-bound atop ladders, last used by the Uruk Hai during the siege of Helms Deep, suspended over a pit of fire. WHERE DO YOU EVEN GET A PIT OF FIRE THESE DAYS? These words have little comfort value once Cybil is lowered over the flames and fast roasted to a charred mess of caked blood and smouldering flesh – screaming all the while, I can’t stress that enough.

Christabella: Pretty sure I said burn the demon child first, but whatever. Now, into the pit with her!

Rose: Hey guys, I’m back! I…oooooh right, Cybil….  D:

Christabella: How dare you desicrate our holy place without knocking. Stay there while we come over and burn you.

Rose: Christabella, has anyone ever said you look like a poor woman’s Sigourney Weaver?

With a roar of unbound rage Christabella storms forward and stabs Rose.

Rose: Heheh it’s all going exactly as planned…. I mean, I think I’m dying. *Deadz*

Christabella: My God, I killed her. I stabbed her to death. What…what have I become….? BURN THE CHILD!!!

Suddenly the world opens beneath them and Alessa, smiling like wet bacon, rises from the symbolic womb in her death bed atop an alter of writhing barb wire. The barb wire flies around the room garrotting, decapitating, disembowelling, impaling, shredding and all other manner of nasty dispatch methods previously unknown to humanity – and most defiantly not the cultists. Satan, resplendent in her purdy blue woolly coat climbs the tower of cages lading from her forsaken home to the church as the fuckery rages above her. With most of the congregation now smearing the walls, floor and ceiling all eyes, and dare I say stomachs, turn to face the fate awaiting Christabella. It isn’t pretty; remember the tree rape scene from Evil Dead (classic rape, miles better than either of Straw Dogs’ and Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull combined), well it’s kind of a homage to that…only less soft twigs, branches and mashed up squirrel carcases, more jagged spiky barbed wire. The pious slut takes thick strands of the stuff in every hole until she is serrated apart from the inside-out. Even the Pain Olympics tactical hammerers and cock-slicers would flinch at the prospect of this. Rose awakens mid-carnage to discover she didn’t die after all (it’s either that or confront the truth that she was resurrected by Lucifer, and that has all kinds of baggage with it). She nods curtly at the beaming Alessa while Satan dances in the blood raining down on her from the tattered remains of Christabella’s cooch, and goes to untie her daughter. A good end to a day that began sort of scrappily, got worse, peaked, then got better once Satan became involved. The last thing Sharon sees before blacking out is the chalk white skin and shark eyes of Satan bearing slowly down on her through the dark streak of blood masking her face, a smile on her lips as Rose holds her close against the background wails and wet slicing sounds. I certainly feel that Sharon would have been better off not having been dragged here against her will to face her nightmares, and I’m not even qualified to have an opinion of kids due to not being a parent myself, as mothers smugly like to tell my kind.

But things can’t end on such a gloriously good and bloody note; why, because dick-heads need closure like the uneducated needs xenophobia. Rose and Sharon return to the car unopposed, hoping against hope that the road will be there. It is, for the devil smiles upon her daughter in law and the woman whose soul she now owns. They drive home in silence but the mist never fades – hope it ends better than it did for the Drayton family.

Makes the ending to Requiem for a Dream play like the Ewok dance in Return of the Jedi

Even at home the fog envelops the entire house in thick white cloud, although to be fair this could just be the waves of boredom emanating off Sean Bean. Unseen, Rose walks right up to Christopher and kisses him goodbye before leaving with their daughter, trapped between realms world they now reside in – because they died in the car crash at the beginning if I have to spell it out for you retards. So were the cultists alive and their souls flayed in the last scene?  How were Rose and Sharon’s bodies never recovered? How come they can leave Silent Hill now? Do they have to go back and live their forever or can they wander the earth as pissy spirits? Confused, well good, suck on your confusion – I was perfectly contented with the film ending after the barbed wire orgy, so I hope you choke on your fucking closure.

The End

The Results

Now for the verdict: Resident Evil Vs Silent Hill; which is less of a crap film? You know why Silent Hill was so scary in games 2 and 3: because of the sheer lack of enemies. The isolation mixed with the knowledge that there be things waiting in the mist were bad enough, but the more time that drew out between attacks only increased the tension of waiting to be ambushed at any moment BY THE WOMAN WITH THE HATCHET PRETENDING TO BE YOUR MOTHER ACROSS THE DINNER TABLE, until you were such a wreck, sat there in your soiled, urine soaked clothes that you prayed for something to show up and end the torment. There didn’t need to be hoards of bad guys clamouring for your gonads round every corner – your mind created something far worse and undefeatable by the game actually depriving it of something to kill before it killed you. Now while this works in a game, forcing the player to experience the madness alone while living vicariously through the character, with films it’s different as a monster movie with no monsters in it is just boring (like this film most of the time) or there are too many monsters and it loses menace through over-exposure (like this film the rest of the time). Some things simply don’t adapt, and that is why, for all its faults, Resident Evil is and always will be the better film franchise. The monsters are ever present in hoards that better fit the tone of the narrative and plight of the cast, the action flies, and it doesn’t drag its feet like Sean Bean’s crow-barred subplot did for a quarter of this film. But don’t cheer and whoop Res-ites for this is a shallow victory of one stupid film being marginally more entertaining than a better shot, better looking, but tragically more dull competitor. Congratulations on a hollow victory, now go watch your 3D copies of Resident Evil: Sold out to James Cameron as I bask in the glory that there is only ONE shit Silent Hill film to keep my anger stewing all night.


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