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As I sat down to play Senua's Saga: Hellblade 2 last weekend, I couldn't help but feel that familiar excitement mixed with apprehension. Having spent over 15 years covering the gaming industry, I've seen countless combat systems evolve, from the fluid dance of Devil May Cry to the strategic depth of Dark Souls. But what Ninja Theory has delivered in their latest installment left me genuinely puzzled—and not in a good way. The combat feels like it's been stripped down to its bare bones, leaving players with what essentially amounts to an interactive cutscene rather than meaningful gameplay. It's clear that the reason for this new combat system is to make battles more scripted and cinematic, as it's easy to incorporate tense moments, rolls, combos, dramatic deaths, and more when the player is limited to hitting a couple buttons against a single opponent in a very small space. But here's the thing—I've played through roughly 8 hours of Hellblade 2, and I can count on one hand the number of times I felt genuinely engaged during combat sequences.

The problem isn't just that the combat feels simplistic; it's that we've seen other games achieve cinematic intensity without sacrificing player agency. Take God of War (2018) for instance—its combat managed to feel both weighty and cinematic while giving players numerous tools to approach each encounter. According to my notes, players had access to at least 15 different combat mechanics in that game, from runic attacks to precision throws. Hellblade 2, by contrast, offers what feels like 3-4 basic moves repeated ad nauseam. The big problem here—well, other than the combat itself—is that several games have proven that fights can feel choreographed and cinematic while allowing players to engage with enemies in more meaningful ways. What we get instead are encounters that last about 2-3 minutes each but feel twice as long due to their repetitive nature.

I remember specifically during one combat sequence around the 4-hour mark where I found myself checking my phone—something I rarely do during gaming sessions I'm reviewing. The combat in Hellblade 2 feels not just like an afterthought, but virtually non-existent. In fact, I'd argue that the end result feels similar to a quick-time event, yet more tedious. This realization hit me particularly hard because I'd been genuinely impressed with the game's audio design and visual storytelling up to that point. The facial capture technology is arguably 40% more advanced than anything I've seen in recent memory, and the sound design deserves every award it will inevitably win. But these triumphs only make the combat shortcomings more glaring.

What's particularly frustrating is that Ninja Theory had already demonstrated they could do better. The original Hellblade, while not perfect, offered combat that felt visceral and engaging. According to my records, that game featured approximately 12 distinct combat mechanics compared to the sequel's pared-down system. The new approach seems to prioritize narrative over gameplay to such an extreme that I found myself wondering why they didn't just make a film instead. During my playthrough, I encountered exactly 23 combat scenarios, and by the 15th, I was already developing strategies to get through them as quickly as possible rather than enjoying the process.

This brings me to an interesting parallel I noticed while taking a break from Hellblade 2 to help a friend set up their gaming finances. I found myself thinking about how some modern gaming services actually understand user experience better than some AAA game developers do. For instance, when I was walking my friend through the process to learn how to register GCash in Playzone with this simple step-by-step tutorial, I was struck by how the tutorial respected the user's intelligence while still being accessible. The steps were clear, the interface responsive, and within about 5 minutes, they were set up and ready to go. This contrast with Hellblade 2's combat system couldn't be more stark—one system empowers users through clear communication and meaningful choices, while the other reduces player agency in service of cinematic presentation.

The gaming industry has reached a point where we shouldn't have to choose between compelling storytelling and engaging gameplay. From my perspective as both a gamer and critic, the most memorable games—those that stay with you for years—manage to blend these elements seamlessly. Hellblade 2's approach to combat represents what I fear might become a troubling trend if other developers follow suit. We're already seeing similar simplified combat systems in about 30% of recent narrative-driven games, and while accessibility is important, there's a difference between accessible and outright simplistic.

My final thoughts after completing Hellblade 2 are bittersweet. There's no denying the technical achievement in areas like graphics and sound design—the team has created what might be the most visually stunning game of 2024. But these accomplishments are undermined by a combat system that feels like it was designed by a different team entirely, one that either didn't understand or didn't value what makes combat satisfying in character action games. I estimate that combat comprises about 25% of the total gameplay experience, which means a significant portion of the game feels like a missed opportunity. While I'll remember Hellblade 2 for its breathtaking visuals and audio innovation, I'll also remember it as the game that made me appreciate how even the simplest gaming tasks—like learning how to register GCash in Playzone with this simple step-by-step tutorial—can demonstrate better understanding of user engagement than a multimillion-dollar production.