"If art is supposed to help us see (and grapple with) our own dark side, then Splatterhouse is more than just a room-clearing button-masher. The player character wears some kind of evil death-mask, which conjures up images of faceless executioners and psychological studies stating that men can do anything when they lose their identity behind the protection of a mask. He's brutally jacked-up on testosterone to the point where I don't think he even cares about his wardrobe (imagine any of the protagonists of Star Ocean 4 saying, "I think I'll just wear my comfortable gore-drenched cutoff jeans today"). But best of all, our Vorhees-inspired hero is going to be losing limbs during his one-man war. Losing limbs, regenerating limbs, tearing limbs off enemies, beating enemies with selfsame limbs. Instead of looking into a mirror and softly whimpering "Who am I?", this guy is going to be wading through fountains of gore and most likely never expressing any emotions outside of the strict limits of what is allowed to be felt when one is bashing something to a bloody pulp."