Say hello to the most unforgiving PS4 game to date

Bloodborne is just like that challenging good-guy math teacher you had in high school: tough as nails, but will give you the chance to succeed if you just apply yourself and focus.

It may sound lame, but doing your homework is how you get better at Bloodborne, because just jumping in simply isn’t an option. If you think you’re just going to stroll into the undead city of Yharnam and start hacking and slashing the beasts within, you’ll guaranteed to break something in frustration — whether it be a controller, something else in the room or a piece of yourself.

Just like the other games in the Hidetaka Miyazaki lineage (Demon’s Souls, Dark Souls) before it, Bloodborne doesn’t play like most mainstream titles. Comparatively, most of what’s out there is way easier to progress through and complete. Bloodborne couldn’t care less about accessibility, and thanks to previous successes, it doesn’t have to.

Because of this attitude, Bloodborne certainly isn’t something for the casual gamer — it’s not even for someone who owns a PS4 and likes action games. No, the audience for this kind of game is someone with a lot of time on their hands who is willing to submit to the experience entirely.

If you can break through the seemingly impenetrable barrier to entry, then Bloodborne might be for you — the operative word here being “might.” Only a fraction of those who take the plunge will ever reap the benefits hidden within, and an even smaller slice will see the game through to its end.

I’m not trying to throw out scare tactics here, I’m just attempting to make it abundantly clear about what you’re potentially spending $60 on. If your sole purpose for playing video games is to let loose and escape reality, Bloodborne might feel like the stressful day job you never wanted. Don’t expect to be playing something that Bloodborne isn’t: user-friendly.

That about sums up the consensus of mainstream criticism against Miyazaki’s games. They’re “too hard.” But it’s that level of hardcore difficulty that has spawned countless forums and online communities all obsessed with these games. Thousands of players devote hours on end to completely vet these adventures, sharing secrets and learning more about their worlds and characters within. Not many titles offer what was once a standard degree of adversity in gaming. Miyazaki’s games preserve that maddening tradition but simultaneously pass as contemporary.

But while I’m right there with the player that rage-quits a session of Bloodborne, I’ll also be the first to defend it.

Most times it feels overwhelming, unforgiving and straight-up sadistic, but there’s a method to its madness. Everything in the game is deliberate and designed for a specific impact, even if it doesn’t initially appear so. Early on, these moments of discovery gave me hope that it was worth continuing, even if I didn’t understand most of the systems within and what function almost every item I discovered served.

There’s not much of a tutorial in Bloodborne, and there’s even less in terms of hand-holding guides like objectives, maps and checkpoint markers. Just throw all of that out the window. You’re going to need to change the way you think about games in order to play Bloodborne. The only help you’ll get in agreeing to this futile undertaking is a smattering of oddly worded hints and ghost replays that other players can drop in the world.

Tiny phrases like “beware the ambush” or “take one more step” litter the world, only offering a glimmer of hope in what’s otherwise an endless nightmare.