Reviewer's Note: Due to certain story & gameplay critiques, it's necessary to bring up some SPOILERS for both this and Bendy and the Ink Machine. Read on at your own risk.

Should a creative's goal be to strive towards new territory or retread previous flawed work?  As various forms of media have become far more commercialized, there's this pull towards re-packaging old stuff.  Films can have various cuts and games can be refurbished to work on newer hardware, perhaps even polished up in distinct ways.  Before Bendy and the Ink Machine re-released on 9th-gen consoles, Dark Revival's initial release felt like a re-evaluation. Though still a standalone sequel in its own right, there's something spiritually about it that feels more like a soft-reboot at specific junctures – an unstated course-correction for its world and brand.  But that also comes with unique baggage: trying to evaluate its own story with suspicions about how it incorporates its past.

The beginning perfectly exemplifies this.  Step into the heels of Audrey, an animator for Archgate Pictures working late on the latest Bendy cartoons.  The seemingly empty studio and loud rainfall create a tense atmosphere as she navigates these halls to leave.  Then, out of nowhere, the strange old janitor appears in her frame, rides with her on the elevator, and the power goes out.  The only way to remedy the issue is to tweak a few breakers and… place specific objects in their proper place, almost like an offering, in front of The Ink Machine.  After that, Audrey's plunged into another world and dramatically altered.  Her only way out is through.


Those familiar with Ink Machine will recognize how this Xeroxed puzzle is condensed down.  Dark Revival's opening in general feels like a more digestible version of its forebear: two characters talking, more cutscene time, a clearer vision of entering a dark fantasy world, and so on.  It's not as antsy to splash T-rated scary imagery – like a gutted Boris the Wolf, for example – nor as reliant on obscurity to progress forward; that said, there's an argument in favor of those missteps in light of their originality.  The hurriedness and tonal confusion partly added to its mystery, versus a rehearsed song-and-dance everyone can see coming a mile away; again, the Ink Machine ritual's design is a carbon copy here, down to the specific items required.

Naturally, the same BioShock influences are transplanted as well: inky messages splashed on walls, conveniently-placed audio recordings, and so on.  This extends past environmental storytelling and into its mechanics.  Rather than grabbing any optional melee object (a la the Condemned series), Audrey's solely equipped with a sturdier GENT bar with a multi-use function.  On top of scant upgrades to improve her melee attack, there's also a consistent need to 'charge' it in order to open special locks.  Now, exploration feels more pressing given the need to find batteries and/or battery parts; moreover, a more fleshed-out economy means a greater portion of gameplay is rummaging through trash cans and lockers.


In some ways, these different expansions exacerbate previously-known problems.  There's a greater emphasis on first-person stealth-action, especially since standard goopy enemies patrol around this time.  Although it is possible to stealth through most areas, shoddy design turns it into a crapshoot:

• Audrey's lethargic crouching speed drags out every takedown opportunity.
• There are no reliable visual/audio feedback mechanisms: no UI vision cone, no sound meter, and so on.
• As a result, there's effectively no 'Suspicious' state; only 'Safe' or 'Caught' states.

And since the patrolling enemies have no coherent pattern – sometimes continually bumping into each other – stealth is more a means of trimming down numbers before the atrocious action begins.  Any bout when two or more enemies are involved on Hard difficulty (my chosen setting) is just a lifeless slap-fest; there are no block nor parry options, it's impossible to read the range of your hits and enemy hits, and goopy minions tanking five or six swings from a wrought-iron wrench feels so artificial.  More enemies also make retreating to hiding spots funnier; it's essentially like reaching and yelling "base!" in tag, even if they all saw you jump in a locker from a few feet away.  The most valid tactic is to simply get as many hits in as possible before reviving in a nearby Vita-Chamber.  You'll have half-health, but enemies don't regain any of theirs either.  

Even The Ink Demon's mechanical makeover neuters him.  There's something to admire about his new shiny body during scripted segments and cutscenes, but he's more of a nagging pest in-game, consistently threatening to chase Audrey down lest she hides.  What this translates to is the screen becomes more gray-scaled, The Demon's heavy steps grow louder, and you're afforded a few seconds to reach a hiding spot.  The win state is triggered a few seconds after hiding and you're back at it.  Not to exaggerate Ink Machine's lackluster attempt at Alien: Isolation's Xenomorph either, but which option appears to carry more tension: a shaky screen with an automatic warning prompt or a physical patrolling entity drawn towards your louder movements?  


Naturally, "expansion" also describes Dark Revival's narrative goals.  The aforementioned inflation of cutscene length and frequency is also paired with an impressive update to animation detail.  But, as with mechanics, this increased runtime also heightens attention of what's otherwise predictable or lackluster.  For one, it's strange how many story beats desperately oversell its T-rated scary atmosphere.  Every major bad guy, especially Sean Crisden's Ink Demon, either had their voiceover filtered through godawful software or their larynx crushed beforehand to nab a role.  These presentation foibles, alongside Erin Lehn not often projecting the proper intensity as Audrey, are more important with such a run-of-the-mill story too.  There's even a meta-examination of this baked into the script already.

The reason all of these complaints – be they big or small – catenate is also due to its $30 asking price.  Obviously the goal should be making a good-or-better game at any price point ($5/$10/etc.), but there's something to those elevated expectations that's also reflective of this studio.  Ink Machine's cheaper price point ($20) and initial episodic release structure is emblematic of a scrappy upstart developer trying to scrape by and publish the full game. Through the higher price and the game's own commentary, it's assuming itself into the same category as other bigger indie studios when it simply doesn't carry the same cache.  


Mechanically and narratively, Bendy and the Dark Revival represents the oft-assumed belief of 'more' equalling 'better'.  Spiritually, something about its precursor's sizable flaws almost felt like (real-life) Joey Drew Studios attempting to rectify them via reinterpretation, in a way not typical for sequels.  It's with this specific lens, alongside its other aesthetic, storytelling, & mechanical inspirations, that those efforts feel even more misguided than before; by missing the fundamentals of others' successes, said expansions make those mistakes even more pronounced.  Through this unique set of circumstances, it also retroactively extinguishes some goodwill it'd earned before.

Contractor by trade and writer by hobby, Lee's obnoxious criticisms have found a way to be featured across several gaming sites: N4G, VGChartz, Gaming Nexus, DarkStation, TechRaptor, and Cubed3! He started gaming in the mid-90s and has had the privilege in playing many games across a plethora of platforms. Reader warning: each click given to his articles only helps to inflate his Texas-sized ego. Proceed with caution.