In Hollowbody, an early 2000s-style third-person survival horror game by Nathan Hamley (the solo developer behind Headware Games), the true terror comes not from its hideous monsters, but from inhabiting a world where regular people are failed by the system and left to die.
Hollowbody is an homage to the PlayStation 2-era classics that helped define the genre. It also adds a “tech-noir” spin; think the first few Silent Hill games, namely Silent Hill 2, and a touch of Blade Runner. It goes heavy on atmosphere, relying almost entirely on tension-building rather than action to create a sense of palpable unease. And while the game resurrects PS2 graphics, it does not subject you to tank controls (unless you want them, then there’s a toggle for that, sickos).
It’s set in the not-too-distant future in a ruined city somewhere in the British Isles, decades after the region was struck by a supposed biological attack and later bombed while under quarantine. A brief introduction alludes to corruption and conspiracy around the true events of the catastrophe. The initial attacks targeted cities “plagued by economic hardship and depravity,” and the affected areas were walled off to contain the spread of any contagions — but not before people deemed to be “high value” citizens were allowed to escape to an artificial island with a suspiciously utopic name (Aeonis).
The game opens with a group of researcher-activists who have convened at an entry site to one of the exclusion zones, where they plan to go in search of answers. After one of them, Sasha, goes missing, her partner Mica sets out in a hover car to find her at any cost.
It’s in this early sequence that we really see the tech-noir part of Hollowbody’s description come through: Mica staring out the huge glass window of an apartment overlooking a densely packed city à la Blade Runner 2049; zipping between skyscrapers in a flying passenger vehicle; having a cheeky conversation with an intelligent navigation system. Naturally, Mica crashes on the ride in, loses contact with the one person who can help her and has to make her way toward Sasha on foot.
There was an occasional head-scratcher that would send me in circles though. It didn’t help that the surfaces I was able to interact with would sometimes continue to display indicators like “Pick up” or “Seek” even after I took everything that could be used from them. In cluttered rooms, I found myself rechecking some spots over and over thinking I’d missed something. These prompts will also appear in some places just for the sake of having Mica make inconsequential observations, like commenting on the dirty dishes or sheets that have gone years unwashed, and she’ll say the same remarks repeatedly as she encounters the same setups in different apartments.
Thankfully, that doesn’t detract much from how unnerving the setting is. The music is haunting, and it combines with heightened environmental noises like rain, radio static and Mica’s echoing footsteps to create a really visceral soundscape. If ever Mica’s inside a building or underground structure, you can be sure it’ll be dark and labyrinthine. It always felt like a monster was going to jump out at any second, despite that not usually being the case. (It was sometimes, though.) Outside, Mica is exposed, and it doesn’t take long for monsters to notice her and start congregating around her.
There are bodies in various states of decay at every turn, and Mica’s scanner will give you an instant read on the deceased to get a sense of who they were and how they died. In many instances, the cause is nothing paranormal: dehydration, starvation, murder, etc. A backstory forms through documents and audio flashbacks that are activated at certain sites, telling of financial struggles and gentrification in the city long before the biological disaster, and the eventual desolation endured by the people in the quarantined area afterward, who could only survive as long as their dwindling resources allowed.
Mica finds a notice of impending rent hikes, a letter that mentions the disruption of construction going on at all hours of the night and a past due notice for unpaid utilities bills showing monthly prices had quadrupled. She comes across a note left behind by a dying man, wishing for a better future for his family and humanity. In one post-quarantine recording, starving civilians pleading to leave the city are gunned down by armed forces. It is all incredibly bleak, and I didn’t have to suspend my disbelief very much to envision a reality in which things would pan out like this.
There are touching snippets of Mica and Sasha’s story as well, but the duo’s connection to this place and apparent significance within its present goings-on never quite got the neat wrap-up I was hoping for. While the ending was a beautiful, emotional scene that felt like it brought the story full circle thematically, it also left me with the feeling of, Wait, what just happened? It seems like there are other endings, though, which may prove more conclusive on subsequent playthroughs. Beating the game also unlocks a harder difficulty option and a first-person dungeon crawler mode, which immediately made everything feel scarier when I switched it on.
Even with its shortcomings, Hollowbody is a solid survival horror title that feels especially impressive when you take into account the fact that it was made by a solo indie developer. Vibes are part of what made its predecessors unforgettable, and Hollowbody’s oppressive mood hits all the right notes.