The Cutprice Guignol

Quick update: if you enjoyed this article and want to read more analysis on the women of Silent Hill 2, check out my article on Mary and Maria here!

Silent Hill 2 remains nigh-on unbeaten in terms of video game horror, but there’s one part of it I have never been able to forget (or stop thinking about for more than ten consecutive minutes since I first finished it): Angela Orosco.

(please note this article will discuss sexual abuse, and that it’s meant for people who know Silent Hill 2 reasonably well – if you haven’t played it yet, consider this your sign to do so at once!)

I think Angela represents a really interesting dichotomy between the other characters in the game; like James and Eddie Dombrowski, she’s a killer, a murderer, but like Mary and Maria, she’s a victim of abuse, too – in fact, the murder Angela commits is against the people who abused her, her brother and father. She’s representative of one of Silent Hill 2’s most important themes – guilt and a search for redemption – and the way the game depicts her suffering as a victim of physical and sexual abuse has stuck with me in the decade and a half since I first played the game.

The monster that torments Angela, nicknamed Abstract Daddy, is incredibly unsettling for what it represents as part of her abuse narrative. In much the same way that the game draws on aspects of James’ psyche to create monsters built to terrorize him specifically, Abstract Daddy offers the same to Angela.

But what makes it stand out – and what makes it such a memorable and brilliant monster in terms of the way it serves her characterization – is that the monster is not just a representative of her father, though he’s obviously the main inspiration. The creature, which seems to be formed of two people on a bed together, a larger figure pinning down a smaller one that appears to be screaming, captures not the perpetrator of or drive behind the abuse, but the actual act and victim of it, too. Angela’s not just haunted by the sexual violence her father committed against her; she’s haunted by her involvement in it. She refers to her family believing she “deserved” this abuse at the hands of her father, and this creature design seems, to me, emblematic of that – the act of this abuse and how helpless she was to stop it, how she was led to believe it was what she deserved. It’s such a well-conceived way to show how so many abuse survivors blame themselves; in Abstract Daddy, a depiction of Angela is as prominent as that of her father.

During the boss fight against this monster, Angela sits listlessly in the corner, watching – dissociated, removed, even as the fleshy walls of the room around her pulsate with phallic objects. I really think this sequence is an impressive depiction of childhood sexual abuse, because it captures the horror, the out-of-body nightmare, the self-hatred, in an abstract enough way as not to feel exploitative, but unsettling enough to drive home the profound horror of the act itself.

But let’s talk about Angela’s final scene, one of the best scenes in video game history, and just downright up there with the finest sequences in any horror media ever.

It’s not any exaggeration to say I think about this scene at least once a week and have to spend a full three minutes staring into space while I relive the whole thing each and every time. I have never seen a better or more perfect depiction of the pain of living underneath the weight of trauma than this one – Angela stands on a burning staircase, and mistakes James for her mother, who she came to Silent Hill to find; when she realises she made a mistake, she slowly makes her way up the stairs, to be engulfed in flames. James remarks on how hot it is, and she replies “You can see it, too? For me, it’s always like this” before she backs into the fire and vanishes.

The experience of living with trauma so often feels just like this – like the world is on fire around you, and you’re the only one who is able to see it. But when Angela reveals this, it’s not dramatic, it’s not a huge, revelatory moment for her – she’s accepted that she’s the only one who sees it this way. It’s more of a surprise that someone else is able to view the world through the same lens, after years of alienation from the people around her who were unable to protect her from the abuse she suffered. Of course the world is on fire – that’s how it feels to someone who has never known safety or relief from their abuse.

There are two frames with what appear to be castrated male forms in them on either side of the stairs, probably representative of her father and brother. But, even though Angela has killed them, their emasculated bodies don’t provide her any relief – they’re just decoration on the walls of this place that’s still on fire, because she can’t see a way out of the pain she’s suffered.

There is so much more to get into with Angela and the way Silent Hill 2 depicts her character, but these are the aspects I find most fascinating. I cannot begin to tell you how much I love this character, and how powerful I think her depiction is in Silent Hill 2; if there’s one thing about the remake I’m looking forward to, it’s knowing how many people are going to get a chance to meet her for the first time, and enjoy this truly unbeaten (for me, anyway) piece of video game character work.

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(header image via Rely on Horror)