The past year or two has seen a significant rise in pop culture's awareness of mental health. In music this awareness came from rappers like Logic and Lil Uzi Vert penning songs with the overarching theme of suicidal thoughts, with lyrics like "I don't wanna be alive / I just wanna die today" in Logic's '1-800-273-8255', aptly named after America's National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, and "I might blow my brain out (hey) // Xanny, help the pain" in Lil Uzi Vert's XO Tour Life. Films like 'A Ghost Story' and 'Manchester By The Sea' both centre around grief and its long-term impact on people.
This rise, however, didn't seem to extend to videogames. Presumably because of their nature as a form of diversion away from such issues that the above films and songs touched on. I then read that an indie videogame developer called Ninja Theory was donating all proceeds made from their latest game, 'Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice', to the mental health charity Rethink as part of World Mental Health Day. The game, grounded in the roots of Norse mythology, has a strong focus on mental health, with its developers even consulting neurologists, mental health specialists and those affected by mental health problems. I bought the game after seen its development diaries put on Ninja Theory's social media and to support Rethink in their work, but it wasn't until months later that I decided to get hands-on with Hellblade and understand how mental health could be translated into pop culture's most immersive form.
In Hellblade you play as Senua, a Pict warrior journeying to Hel to rescue the soul of her dead lover, Dillion, from the goddess of death, Hela. First and foremost, Hellblade is a game that's unique to its format. Within half an hour, you're told that if you fail a certain amount of times, Senua's quest will be over and all progress will be lost. This message immediately puts you on a constant edge to survive, ramping up the intensity of a game with plenty of tension to go around.
Throughout the game, Senua experiences a mix of different mental health illnesses; most notably grief, psychosis and PTSD, believing these illness are a result of a curse. One of the highlights of Hellblade is how it provides a unique representation of these problems that can only be done in a videogame. When playing with headphones, you constantly hear small voices from inside Senua's head whipsering all around you, commenting on your every action - from solving puzzles to walking across bridges. These voices being a reflection of the hallucinations caused by the psychosis she experiences. However, these voices do as much to aid you in the game just as how well they send shivers down your spine. They help you in battle as they tell you to "evade" from incoming attackers and put you on the right path when trying to solve the game's puzzles. But at the same time, they also try to stop you in your quest, telling you "she's too weak", that "she won't make it" after being hurt by an enemy. Notably, the voices don't just break the fourth wall and put you on the same level as Senua, but act a vessel for the game's narrative.
This is because the story is told almost entirely through Senua's head, often through a 'Narrator' voice who regularly appears to explain Senua's backstory; such as how she met Dillion, her life story and the origin of her mental health problems. Unlike most games, Senua (besides her enemies) is the only character that really appears in the game. She never really interacts with anything other than the physical manifestations of the voices inside her head, particularly her "Darkness" and the ghost of Dillion. Because of this, the narrative focus is entirely on Senua and doesn't place her as a cog in a a universe filled with characters as many games tend to. Instead, it brings the player's focus back to Senua, their relationship with her as the game progresses and the empathy you can't help but feel as Senua is pushed further and further across her limits.
Another unique feature of Hellblade is how it never ties itself down to a singular genre, making for a wholly unique gaming experience. In the space of an hour you go from 'hack and slash' style battles against Hela's minions to solving puzzles based left for you by the Norse god of illusion and even to a heart-racing horror as you run away from a fire monster, with the voice of the most terrifying sound design in a game to date.
My favourite part of Hellblade is its visuals and, I believe not much needs to be said - but rather shown.
My only, very mild, criticism with Hellblade is its short playtime. Being an indie game, it can't be a 40-hour, world-hopping epic such as The Witcher. But, it deploys the same depth in storytelling in both what's part of the narrative and the wider world beyond it. The amount of information the game conveys can feel overwhelming at times. With players dealing with the backstory of Senua, her mental health problems, the game's other characters, Senua's motivations, a heavy amount of Norse mythology and how even that feeds back into the game all in the space of seven hours. As a result, the game and its story can feel confusing sometimes - but the game's organic pacing puts you back on the right track.
Overall, Hellblade is one of the most avant-garde videogames out there. Not only does it understand the tragedies of grief and the impact mental health can have on people, but presents them in a unique way that just feels right. Hopefully, AAA studios see this as an opportunity to bring insightful experiences like this to the mainstream.