You'll spend much of Outlast 2 navigating by the glare of a full moon, whose light gradually shifts, in what could be a nod to Bloodborne, from chilly blue through malevolent orange to a ghastly, climatic red. The quintessential feminine symbol, it's by turns an apt and awkward thematic device for a story that is saturated with casual misogyny, in which women exist largely to be bagged, brutalised and served up as bait to yet another of gaming's dopey white knights. The new Outlast has its moments as a horror game, thanks to some neat perception dynamics, but it's exceptionally short on subtlety or charm.
The aforesaid dopey white knight is Blake Langermann, a photojournalist whose devotion to the craft is such that he'd rather film people than fend them off while they're killing him. Blake and his wife Lynn are investigating a murder in rural Arizona when their helicopter crash-lands, as helicopters do. On regaining consciousness, he discovers that Lynn has been kidnapped by the folk of Temple's Gate, a wayward and highly unhygienic Christian sect who are convinced she's about to give birth to the apocalypse. So begins a 6-10 hour nocturnal struggle to reclaim your spouse, a trek that boils down to sneaking past mucky, scripture-quoting bumpkins or running obstacle courses with said bumpkins in hot pursuit.
When not hiding in cupboards or rattling door handles, you'll also experience flashbacks to Blake's childhood, wandering around a deserted school in search of his old friend Jessica, while contending with things like blood-filled toilets and smoking, skinless phantoms. It's two damsel-in-distress quests for the price of one, in other words, entwined around each other, and in both cases you can expect to be repeatedly tantalised with the sound and sight of your quarry's suffering - in keeping with the infantile notion that the absolute worst thing you can do to a Guy is pilfer His Woman and make her squeal.
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