This emphasis on strong characterization even translates into the execution moves, of which there are a staggering amount. They learn to lean on each other and embrace what makes them such a great team. Rick and the Terror Mask each have ways they develop, Rick growing more into the man he needs to be so he can finally propose to Jenny, and the Terror Mask into less of a dick. You rarely have to slow down for anything, allowing for a brutal momentum by every definition as you pummel through foes like tissue paper. This later comes up as a plot point for Rick’s side of things as well, where he has to face a demon fueled by his guilt over the affair.įurthermore, Rick and the Terror Mask have a constant dialogue, fitting the story in amid the action like James Wan’s Aquaman. You can see her and Rick’s relationship evolve over time, with later photos leaning into far more serious matters and Jenny fully clothed, such as her and Rick’s big date, or their rough patch where Rick got drunk and fooled around with someone else. Most of these photos involve Jenny posing near-nude, but the more you collect, their nature shifts from lewd eye candy to a narrative device. While Jenny’s constantly held captive by West or one of his minions, she regularly fights back, even tearing up her old photos as a paper trail for you to follow.
Like The Evil Dead, Splatterhouse goes all out within the small space it has to work with. Seriously, the man has enough one-liners to make Bruce Campbell jealous. Well, that plus every excuse to have Jim “I Played Winnie the Pooh” Cummings chew every inch of scenery as the demonic mask that empowers and possesses you. Rather than buck the trend, it embraces its vulgarity and lewdness to convene far more relatable themes of love and loss. Splatterhouse knew the odds were stacked against it ( extensively so) and the expectations everyone had for it.
Instead it’s actually really heartfelt, genuine, and arguably one of the better genre-piece games to date. By all rights, it should be a forgettable bit of tripe, only for those who trawl the deepest holes of bargain bins. Herbert “The Reanimator” West across dimensions and time, pile driving, cleaving, and impaling his demonic minions in the hopes of saving your bombshell girlfriend Jenny. You play as Rick, possessed by the Terror Mask, a rip-off of Jason Voorhees, fighting Dr.
Splatterhouse’s 2010 revival is crass, lacking in almost any subtlety and gorier than Mortal Kombat.
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