“This castle is a creature of Chaos. It may take many incarnations…”

I’m a very easy wizard to please. Give me an entertaining game with a tight aesthetic and a killer soundtrack and there’s a solid chance I’ll at least remember it years down the line. Castlevania has always managed to check all of those boxes for me. The tale of a family of badass vampire slayers dedicated to putting a stop to Dracula’s plans generation after generation is all I really needed to get invested. And yet, I must admit that while I had played nearly all of them up to a point, I couldn’t claim to have actually beaten one yet. I could come close, but for some reason, none of the games ever quite managed to sink their claws deep enough into me that they could convince me to make that last leap. I’ve since rectified that, but even back then, I could tell right away that Symphony of the Night was something… Different. When I first dove into it some fifteen or so years ago, I became so entranced by its pale moonlit glow that I was briefly concerned that I might never leave. I suppose, at least in my mind, I never did.

As with other games where discovery is so crucial to the game’s appeal, I recommend you experience the game for yourself before reading this review.

Five years after Dracula’s defeat at the hands of Richter Belmont, the titular castle suddenly reappears, decidedly ahead of schedule. Unfortunately for humanity, Richter himself is nowhere to be found. With seemingly nobody else up to the task of investigating this regrettable turn of events, Alucard, the son of Dracula, reluctantly awakens from his self-imposed eternal slumber with the intent of infiltrating Castlevania and putting a stop to this aberration. As he combs the darkest depths of the place he once called home in search of answers, he uncovers a conspiracy that threatens to resurrect the Dark Lord – and a long and bitter family feud comes to a head.

With Symphony of the Night being as revered as it is, both in the past and present, it can be a little hard to remember that it was (and still can be) divisive with a select few for being both too different and not different enough. As far as Castlevania as a series is concerned, forgoing the previous stage-and-score based gameplay with a heavy emphasis on platforming challenges for something much more RPG-ish and exploratory in nature didn’t sit well with absolutely everyone. Given its nearest neighbor in that respect, it’s not too hard to see how some might have been apprehensive about it. It also didn’t always impress on a technical level due to insisting upon retaining the 2D visuals and gameplay when 3D was very much the hot new thing. As time has demonstrated, however, this experimentation in style not only helped to inspire a whole new genre, but it also allowed the game to age much more gracefully than it might have otherwise.

The game’s greatest strengths lie in where such differences become most pronounced. Rather than playing as the latest in a long line of vanquishers, you instead control the main antagonist’s estranged progeny, who chooses the path of forgiveness while his father seeks bloody revenge for mankind’s transgressions. Alucard is a far cry from any Belmont, Morris or Lecarde, or even Belnades, being capable of many of the supernatural feats one would expect of those with vampiric heritage. And also unlike most of his predecessors, Alucard is not a static avatar – his equipment and statistics change throughout the course of the game, and consequently he can grow in ability and power. Gone is your linear and segmented tour through Dracula’s domain, and while many sections are initially kept just out of your reach, you will eventually find ways to overcome your obstacles until not a single inch is off limits to you. Being given the keys to a realm only seen in snippets throughout past games fleshes out the world of Castlevania and makes it much more tangible. Even from an audiovisual standpoint, things have been turned on their head: The original style inspired by classic horror films painted a dark, dirty and frightening picture of the eternal struggle between the Belmonts and the forces of evil. Here, Ayami Kojima’s rich and luxurious art direction accentuates the darkness while giving the characters and their surroundings a much more regal and majestic feeling. You really get a taste of the more decadent and intellectual lifestyle the Ţepeş family was at one point accustomed to. This is complemented by Michiru Yamane’s absolutely impeccable soundtrack, which is at different times dramatic, mysterious, eerie, or even funky, but always, always perfect for the scene it accompanies. These parallels even seem to be represented in the level design itself: After you pick over the castle once, you’re presented with a version of it that has both literally and figuratively been turned on its head, forcing you to reacquaint yourself with something you were only a short while ago intimately familiar with. When all of its aspects come together, the game manages to break free of any expectations and provide an experience that feels remarkably fresh, both in spite of the venerable foundation it’s built on and the trends of its era.

This concept is probably best exemplified in the game’s balance… Or its lack thereof. When you start the game, Alucard is absolutely busted. The handful of enemies you encounter in the castle’s entrance hall may as well be ants for how easily he can stomp all over them. You might briefly wonder if this game is going to be an utter cakewalk from start to finish. Then Death shows up and yoinks your fancy gear, and suddenly you feel pitifully weak even compared to the relatively mundane protagonists of previous games. A lot of time in the early-to-middle game is spent leveling up and scrounging for new equipment, whether by picking up drops from enemies or nabbing treasures. Each time you pick up an item, you’ll be cracking open that menu screen to see where any improvements lie. Over time, though, you’ll accrue a fearsome arsenal. As you scour the castle from top to bottom (and then bottom to top again) you’ll discover many secrets and hopefully learn a few new tricks along the way as well. Eventually you’ll get to know Castlevania like the back of your porcelain hand and will probably have stumbled across at least one of the various game-breakers on offer. That sampling of power you had right at the beginning grows into a feast. I imagine the first person who found a Crissaegrim nearly peed their pants when they realized they’d just picked up a weapon that almost automatically wins the game. Did you know you can equip two of those at once? How about the absolutely nutters Shield Rod combos – especially when you’re using the Alucard Shield? Did you master the input for Soul Steal? Level up your familiars to their maximums? How about other ways you can trivialize things? That doppleganger was pretty irritating, huh? Equip that otherwise useless Red Rust and you can completely shut it down. Wow, this bonus boss’s attacks really sting. Slip this magic circlet on your head; it’ll make your life a lot easier. Symphony of the Night does not care if you cheat. It encourages it. This is your house. If you’re so inclined, you can turn it into your playground, and once you get bored of it you can head off to curbstomp your nuisance of a father and get on with your life. I would never call this game especially difficult. However, it establishes a certain kind of power fantasy for the player and lets them indulge in it, which I can definitely respect. Anybody who tells you they wouldn’t want to be a pretty dhampir with a big castle and a cool sword is either lying or hasn’t played SotN.

And yes, the uneven difficulty can just as easily be a turn-off for somebody who was accustomed to the more daunting challenges of earlier games in the franchise. Your wandering will certainly feel a bit aimless at times, an attribute of many of SotN’s descendants that I know a few people wish would have remained squarely in the past. Some foes can be a real chore to deal with, which in turn makes some areas the kind few would ever wish to retread. The second half of the game can feel like padding, and not every part of the game feels quite as good to explore upside-down. It’s easy to balk at the cheesy voice acting and dialogue (though I personally feel the excessive ham is a perfect match for the game’s aesthetics, and I have a real soft spot for Robert Belgrade’s performance as Alucard). And to the person who simply cannot leave any stone unturned: You definitely have your work cut out for you if you pass on using a guide. However, while I think Alucard’s adventure can be a little weak at times, I still find myself unable to resist the occasional urge to return to that castle and recapture the magic I felt in uncovering its wealth of secrets. Even for as many other games like Symphony of the Night I’ve played, within or without its own series, none of them have quite succeeded in providing me with the same dignified pleasures as that first moonlit stroll. Not bad for 1997.

By the way, the “updated” version included in The Dracula X Chronicles tries to remove all of the delicious cheese, so please don’t play it. But you probably won’t listen to me anyway, will you?

Reviewed on Mar 22, 2024


1 Comment


2 months ago

alucard is the best part of this game unironically fr, same situation with tenchu 1 lmao