Art in this Piece: Hollow Knight: Silksong
Available Through: PS4/5/Xbox One/Xbox Series S/X/Nintendo Switch 1/2/PC
“Have I really changed that much?”
These are loose words that I asked myself out loud on the way home from work a couple of Thursdays ago. Stuck in traffic, faced with an eternal red light, I looked up into the blue. I genuinely wondered how much I’ve really altered my core in the years and decades since…whenever the hell I decided I had a discernible essence sense of self, probably around 21. Yes, the halcyon days of the early 2010s, when my obsession with music, social justice and ginger ale had crystallized in the shadow of a new Obama mandate. I suppose a better, more direct question is “How have I changed?”. Reflecting in this present moment, I can think of a few life-altering shifts that move my sense of what it is to be alive. A genuinely, new career path that pays off a decade of grinding. The combined combustion of back to back losses in my family. Those things have shaken me, but when I thank about changes to my core, I mostly come up with small things that set scaffolding for new development. I'm talking timbits of change; tiny nuggets of wisdom like learning which feelings I actually own. Becoming a complete lover of salmon (both the fish and colour) or learning to listen and find knowledge in the words of everyone I meet (that’s important). Reflecting on a reflection from days ago has led me to this, small doesn’t mean inconsequential. It’s a thought and a statement I never really honoured, but it’s a meaningful truth all the same. My life is filled with these tiny, meaningful nodes bulking up into signficant chunks of change that have shifted and shaded my total figure. These changes have lead to/influenced purpose, which has lead evolution.
In a society that's always looking for progress in immediate, maximalist forms, the slow-roasting minutiae of actual change and evolution can be, and often is, at odds with modernity. Too often things need to be done well, cheaply and immediately. Like most things in late capitalism, the only option is usually ‘fast’. If luck provides, good things can come together in a flash pan and slip through the cracks of a social structure designed to strip it out, like the glory of the men’s breakdance finals at the Paris Olympics existing in a country known for exquisite anti-blackness. However, the best things, no, the greatest of things, are impervious to our social political hell. These things always take time and agonizing consideration. When I got home on that same traffic-ridden Thursday evening, I booted up Hollow Knight: Silksong, a nearly implausible sentence to the intiated. Mountains, and I mean mountains, of hype have followed this game for years and there I was, clothes still stinking of Toronto gridlock, mere seconds away playing the sequel to Hollow Knight, a mythical indie game in its own right. And now, a week and some change later, I can attest that Silksong is one of those “greatest things”.
Off the top, Silksong initially presents itself directly as more Hollow Knight and that makes complete sense. For the uninitiated, Hollow Knight is a hybrid of Dark Souls and Metroid game lineages at its core, games that have defined exploration and challenge like few others. Expecting Silksong to be anything else, especially with its beginnings as a standalone expansion piece to the original, would be intellectually dishonest. Besides, Silksong is indifferent to the noise outside the screen. This long-awaited sequel is thematically patient, it plays at its own speed, ready to share with players who are willing to pay attention. The more one sits in the world of Pharloom with eyes and ears open, the more Team Cherry's sequel reveals its endless forms of meticulous evolution.
Let’s talk marquee changes, firstly, combat. Team Cherry has made combat harder and more complex. Returning (now main) character Hornet is bigger, faster and more agile, something the game accounts for in its enemy/encounter design. Hollow Knight’s all important downthrust now hits diagonally, giving the player angles to match Silksong’s encouragement of aggression. Enemies now jump in particular arcs to thwart aerial dominance, toss daggers, spears, three-spread blades or even mirror Hornet's very own downthrust to create pressure. The sheer enemy variety, how they attack, defend, counter and sit in their respective biomes is full of nuance and detail. The breathless, brutal ballet of Silksong's fights are damn near celestial in their satisfaction. Being faced with new battles, big and small, is exciting every time. Every half hour or less, Team Cherry places some new bastard to face down and dominate. Silksong presents endless combat challenges that have been polished to needle-sharpness. The game demands near perfect execution and provides of information through trial by era to consistently do just that. There is no illusion or automation to Silksong’s combat, when you start dominating, after having the space to fail, you will feel godly.
Combat is one hugely deep step forward for the series, but Silksong's evolution of Hollow Knight's world design is another. Pharloom is an endlessly diverse and fascinating game world that eclipses the Hallownest (from HK1) entirely. At times, Pharloom calls to mind Bloodborne's Yharnam and Resident Evil 4's fanatical Spanish countryside. Pharloom is a marvel of interconnected, cohesive world design at all levels. It’s a world with haunted history and perverted faith coldly-lacerated with Hornet's place in it all; her presence remains an ever-involved, succulent mystery throughout. Pharloom, with it engrossing macabre and woven verdant gothics, is a new benchmark for the metroidvania subgenre. Getting lost in this world is means always being a minute away from some new combat terror, or a platforming challenge to replenish beads (the game’s currency), or a door that leads to an elavator that makes backtracking way easier. Oftentimes, Silksong’s reward for exploring is the satisfaction of orienteering, getting to know a space better and then knowing what to expect. It’s an understated but clearly intentional piece of design that always finds its way into material reality for the player. Few, if any, games of this type trust the player this much by simply letting them experience adventure without taking the wheel from them.
As I lose hours upon hours to Silksong, I feel the zen confidence of Team Cherry’s work. Its precision design reflects the Australian studio’s self-awareness; they know HK1 was unquestionably special. Team Cherry knew the what, where and why propelling their tiny game about bugs almost a decade ago. Around every turn, Silksong is filled with an understanding and details that don’t just one up the original game, they shift the franchise forward entirely. Small details stack in the thousands. Tiny ants carrying away the bone weapons of fallen enemies off-screen. Currency with bouncy physics that make the player consider where they’ll take an enemy out to maximize reward. The cavernous songs that ring out in environments to echolocate friendly, familiar NPCs. All of the design is rich in detail and never loses sight of the soul, the core of what makes the project a unique and comprehensibly ‘Hollow Knight’ game.
There are paragraphs of words here, but the game is best summarized by the philosophy of Daft Punk; Silksong is harder, better, faster and stronger. Its total evolution, with its magnitude and multitude of minutiae, reinforces the core and exalts it far beyond the internet ravings that have long showered its predecessor. Sometimes, the best change comes from knowing and understanding what is special at the center of anything or anyone. The knowing, the intimate awareness, can form an unbreakable diamond; something valuable, defined and powerful. Silksong is a masterful ode to that knowing and it presents a stunning, self-assured metamorphosis.