What's it all about?

In the simplest terms, this blog is an investigation into why and how we become immersed in survival horror games. This is a genre that is well known for it's gore-drenched narratives and hellish monsters who all want your blood and guts. Titles such as Resident Evil, Silent Hill, and most recently Dead Space, are prime examples of survival horror, a genre which uses a foray of audio and visual elements to keep the player on the edge of their seat as they try to stay alive in the game world. I will try and decode some of these elements, and see how the semiotic frameworks in these games make an immersive and frightful experience. Why do we find these games scary? How do they make us so immersed that we are frightened by what we see and hear?
 
Expect suspense, zombie dogs crashing through windows and alien dismemberment. For bibliography and sources, see bottom of page.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Critical Evaluation

I chose to look into survival horrors and the audio and visual semiotic codes they use to create immersion while playing. I decided to look into this because of the love I have always had of the genre and I have always been fascinated with the conventions used in games like Resident Evil as, through playing them as I grew, I started to like being frightened by them. The adrenaline rush I attained while playing was, and still is, extremely exciting and I wanted to investigate how and why the audio and visual signs and codes used make us immersed in the game and ultimately make us frightened by what we see and hear.

I began by looking into the history of the genre by looking at the games Sweet Home and Alone in the Dark which are generally agreed to be founders of survival horror. Through this I discovered how many of the audio and visual semiotics found in the more modern survival horror games were influenced by those mentioned above, establishing atmospheres and fear tactics found in horror movies and transferring them to the video game experience. Puzzle-solving, item collection and fight-or-flee combat conventions were also heavily taken from the earlier titles of the genre.

Following this I focused my research more on the semiotics of survival horrors and started to look first glance at what makes a game scary. I touched on the ideas of fear of the unknown, the use of cutting off and hinting with audio and visual stimuli and the sudden scare, all tools used in the survival horror games I looked into. In addition to this, I experienced first-hand a survival horror situation when I traveled to forest in the dead of night. This allowed me to apply some of the theories I had come across so far in my research to reality, I was experiencing the fear tactics used in the survival horror genre. It was interesting to see how a variety of signs and signifiers built into a scary experience, how flashes of light and what seemed like figures through the trees sparked my imagination and heightened the fear levels.

It was here that I started to feel a bit off course and decided to define exactly what I was looking into. I looked into the theory of semiotics and how texts create meaning through the use of signs, building into semiotic codes. Survival horrors use audio and visual codes to bring the game world to life and to frighten the player. For example, a disheartening, suspense fuelling soundtrack heightens levels of tension and foreboding; blood and gore signify could death and murder, bringing about fear to the player and atmosphere to the environment. My aim for this project was to look into how these codes are used via audio and visual channels to create a frightening, and therefore, immersive experience. I believe I could have touched much more on the term “immersion” when related to video games, but in this context I believe immersion is simply achieved when the player is successfully put on-edge and frightened by the gaming experience, proving that they are engrossed in the game.

I then started to look at more academic sources of information and I became very interested with the theories of spatial navigation, cinematography and game audio, learning a lot along the way. I was able to look into the use of aesthetic codes via the use lighting and the subverting of the normal mise-en-scene of an area into a terrifying version of itself.  Also I looked into how game audio could be used effectively and how technical codes were used in the form of game level structure to maintain tension and exhilaration throughout gameplay by not meandering on side-quests and unimportant areas of narrative.

I have enjoyed conducting this investigation as I feel that I have learnt so much more about the survival horror genre and its semiotic codes than when I first started. The use of horror film conventions and real-life psychology in these games has taught me just how and why certain audio and visual elements make me feel like I do when playing a survival horror which we allow me to apple them to the future games I play and hopefully create. However it has also opened my eyes to how the survival horror genre seems to be dying. Players are wising up to the ways in which these games are constructed, no longer finding the newer survival horror titles frightening (namely Dead Space). The use of repetition in the genre has caused it to have to branch into new areas, leaving the old survival horror formulas behind in the last two generations, e.g. Resident Evil 4’s much more action orientated approach. Hybridised games mixing survival horror semiotics and other genres are emerging, most notably Left 4 Dead. The question is whether or not game developers will be able to save this brilliant genre from extinction with new and fresh ideas, unlike the ones I have found in this investigation. To create a brand new and truly scary game experience innovation is key.

Word Count: 858 

For bibliography and sources, see bottom of page.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Aesthetic Codes and Lighting

The original Resident Evil is well known for it's pre-rendered environments and obstructing camera angles, leaving the player unknown to what is round the corner until they hear and or see for themselves. From my experience, the static camera angles found in the early Resident Evil games heightened the fear of the unknown and the connection to reality, we can't see round corners in real-life. This emphasised the player/character's vulnerabilities, they are only human just like the player. As noted, "One key way in which survival horror games create their emotional effect is by maintaining a state of player vulnerability, often by suspending the player in a state of incomplete knowledge. The perceptual conditions for this state of vulnerability are enhanced through visual obscurity. Obscurity supports a sense of vulnerability (uncertainty) and is thrilling because it is makes the object of terror indistinct" [1]

A scene from Resident Evil 2, Claire is running toward camera, but the player does not know what she is running into. An empty corridor? More enemies? 


The same with this scene. It seems as though the enemies have come from off-screen, how many more are there? Are they close by?

In addition to this, the use of darkness and light in survival horrors can be a tool to amplify the character's vulnerabilities. In Dead Space much of the action takes place inside dimly lit rooms where certain objects and enemies are difficult to make out. Moments when cast shadows dart across walls and short snippets of enemy appearance in the dark make the unknown are much more deadlier place and remind us of the character's loneliness and vulnerability in the face of the overwhelming danger hidden in the shadows. "...in Resident Evil 4, the darkest spaces occur when one is playing Ashley: the character with the fewest resources and greatest vulnerability" [1]. However this has been subverted somewhat in the recent Resident Evil 5 where most of the game takes place in brightly lit, outside areas wheres enemies are clearly visible. But of course this leads to the argument of whether the most recent "survival horror" titles are actually survival horrors at all.


[1] Magy Seif El-Nasr, Simon Niedenthal, Igor Knez, Priya Almeida, Joseph Zupko, Dynamic Lighting for Tension in Games, Volume 7, Issue 1, 2007, retrieved on 23/05/2009.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Cinematography and Aesthetic Codes

"[Silent Hill] is set in everyday places - cafes and gas stations, schools and hospitals. The ordinariness and familiarity make it all the more disturbing when things turn nasty. In "An Introduction to the Modern American horror film" Robin Wood (1997) describes horror as involving "a simple and obvious basic formula … normality is threatened by the Monster" where normality, the monster and the frequently ambivalent relationship between the two, are all variables. Silent Hill fits Wood's horror formula.  Normality is threatened, trashed, by the monstrous... The innocent are imperiled. Hell has eviscerated the town's school and hospital. Harry has to rescue his daughter and oppose the evil haunting Silent Hill" [1][2]

This simple cinema formula can be found in many survival horrors where the normality is changed into something threatening. In Resident Evil Raccoon City is overrun by mindless zombies, in Dead Space the USG Ishimura spaceship is diseased with aliens. What was once normal and has been subverted via the use of aesthetic signs and mise-en-scene. 


Above shows a bathroom in Silent Hill. One is virtually normal. The same bathroom changes into something much more dark and threatening as the game progresses. What was normal is now chilling.

However for this subversion to work the player/character still has to occupy a moral stand point which will find the change frightening. In other words, the player must still be a force of good, battling against the evil monster which is threatening the game world. "Whatever players do in most horror-based games, they still have to occupy the position of an avatar of good. As a predetermined transcendent force, the moral occult is at work in the way these games channel the player through their labyrinths" (Tanya Krzywinska 2002) [3]. In most of the survival horrors I can think of, the protagonists are made good by the way the enemies and the environments are created. The player/character does not want to die in the game so they must fight to live on, leading them to be the sign of good. The enemies make themselves evil by attacking, the player is made good because they're trying to survive.


Isaac's blue spine is actually his health bar and his gun shows the ammo, all in-game.

The way Dead Space uses aesthetic codes to create an immersive create experience isn't just through the environment and characters however, it is how, much like other survival horrors, the game does not use a Head's Up Display on screen. Every menu apart from the pause menu is activated and used while still in-game, unlike in Resident Evil when you can pause the action to catch a breath while you heal yourself, Dead Space adds the danger that while you are fiddling in the inventory something can still sneak up and attack you. In addition to this the "health bar" and remaining ammo on your weapon are diegetic, as shown above. This heightens the loneliness of the character and amplifies the player-to-character relationship. We feel much more like we are Isaac and not just an someone watching and controlling an avatar. 

[1] Wood Robin, 1997, "An Introduction to the modern American horror film" (1984) Excerpt from Reading Popular Narrative; A Source Book Bob Ashley (ed.) London and Washington; Leicester University Press.
[3] Krzywinska Tanya, 2002,  "Hands-On Horror" ScreenPlay (eds Tanya Krzywinksa, Geoff King) London Wallflower Press

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Horror Films and Game Audio

"In general survival horror games rely on conventions of horror film sound to effectively create the mood of horror required for the game (echoing effects, screeching violins, dissonant bursts of symphonic noise at "startle" moments, etc.) but a psychoanalytic analysis reveals a shifted trajectory, at least in the case of Silent Hill. Neumeyer and Buhler (2001) write: In suspense films, subjective crisis and psychological rupture are often prominent themes, with the character experiencing a debilitating loss of centre, which is figured musically by the absence of a tonal centre. In horror films, the monster often embodies a kind of dystopian projection, a means of figuring unintended consequences of the system, which take musical shape as tonality gone awry to the point of incomprehension" [1][2].

Above is an extract from an article by Zach Whalen as he argues the point that music in video games "encourages and enhances the narrative experience of game play" [2]. As mentioned, he introduces the idea that survival horror games rely on the semiotic codes of horror film soundtracks to create effective moods, sometimes to the point that the music takes the shape of completely abstract and incomprehensible forms to show a degradation of the player's character and/or the environment's mental state. However not all survival horror's use this. 

The most common and memorable horror film sign however is silence. Silence in survival horrors and horror films usually means one thing. There are no threats or dangers, but there'll be one soon to shatter the silence and make the audience jump. When playing Dead Space I found that the lack non-diegetic music in certain scenes helps build vast amounts of tension because of the way I was waiting for something to suddenly appear: the more time there was nothing there, the more I became on edge. As mentioned here, "...the silence of the first scene puts the player on edge rather than reassuring him that there is no danger in the immediate environment, increasing the expectation that danger will soon appear. The appearance of the danger is, therefore, heightened in intensity by way of its sudden intrusion into silence" [2].  Because of the signs I have grown accustomed to in horror films and other survival horrors, I'm aware of the codes and the cliche that an enemy will appear at some point, but I still don't know how and when. What would be even more frightening is that the enemies wouldn't appear at all, leaving you in a heightened state of tension until you start to think that there are no enemies at all until one creeps up behind you...


[1] Neumeyer, David & Buhler, James. (2001) Analytical and Interpretive Approaches to Film Music (I): Analysing the Music. In: Donnelly, K.J. (Ed.) Film Music: Critical Approaches. New York, The Continuum International Publishing Group

[2] Zach Whalen, 
Game Studies - Play Along - An Approach to Videogame Music, Volume 4, Issue 1, November 2004, retrieved 20/05/09

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Audio Codes and Scary Sounds

Through playing survival horrors I have grown to really appreciate the fear induced by sounds and music in-game. The soundtrack to the Resident Evil series for example is one of my all-time favourites, not just because I find the music enjoyable to listen to, but because of how the music makes me feel while I listen to it. I believe that a survival horror without an effective soundtrack and sound effects is extremely detrimental to the game experience. Of course, silence can be a fantastic tool to create tension, but when the entire mood and atmosphere of a game is summed up in a musical score, playing the game becomes much more immersive, in my opinion. 

Looking at the article I previously read by Diane Carr, I found a helpful excerpt which notes about the use of sounds and music in the game Silent Hill. "Silent Hill uses suggestive and worrisome noises like footsteps, wing beats, bad plumbing. Harry carries a disconcerting radio that cracks with squeaky static when monsters are around. As Jonathan Ree has pointed out, spooky noises are an excellent way to give us the creeps as "the spatial indeterminacy of sound means that auditory illusion can be even more disconcerting than either optical or visual ones" (Ree, 1999). Silent Hill wants its players to be frightened, and the sounds of the game world move into our own space" [1][2]. Much like when the visual stimuli is cut off, limiting the amount of knowledge about a space through the medium of sound is an excellent way of creating a variety of images in the player's mind. The technical semiotics used allow our brains to ponder on what might be making certain sounds and whether we should be afraid or not. For example, you hear a groaning off screen, zombies are in the room with you but you don't know where yet. Another great example is the use of sound in the recent game Dead Space, where footsteps, falling pipes on metal and shouts are heard on a loop in the background. The tutorial narration is voiced over the spaceship's intercom system by a machine, amplifying the loneliness of the character. When I experienced this the audio kept me alert to every sound around me as I then could not tell which was in the current environment or just the soundtrack, heightening the fright level when I actually did see a grotesque alien running towards me. In addition to this, the collectable audio logs from the ship's now dead crew allow the player's mind to wander into the emotions of the characters as they face death, something which I believe the short musical pieces from the Biohazard (Resident Evil) Orchestra Album convey even without words.



The soundtrack in any game is something I always listen out for and I love to hear original and moving pieces which a relevant to the game. The two pieces I picked above are from Resident Evil (for music locations see below) and I found them to be both very memorable by how the pieces both tug at the heart strings while playing and create tension at the same time. "The First Stage" in particular, to me, has a mood of sorrow and sadness but changes to short, sharp notes which convey feelings of danger and evil. The inclusion of human voices through the use of an almost heavenly choir seems to thicken the atmosphere greatly, subverting the ethereal sound into something unsettling.  

To be continued... 

[1] Ree Jonathan, 2000, I See a Voice; A Philosophical History of Language, Deafness and the Senses, Flamingo

[2] 
GameStudies.org: Play Dead: Genre and Affect in Silent Hill and Planescape Torment, Diane Carr, retrieved on 18/05/2009

"The First Stage" is taken from the start of Resident Evil 3 when Raccoon City is at the height of it's destruction from the T-Virus. 

"Secure Place" is a leitmotif associated with the typewriter safe rooms in the Resident Evil series. These are usually the only guaranteed safe places in the games where no zombies are found. The music reflects the feeling of safety, tinged with the knowledge that you've got to leave and face the danger again to survive. 

Both tracks are by Kazunori Miyake and Masami Ueda.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Spatial Navigation

So as I continue my research into the semiotic codes of survival horrors, and at the moment the first three Resident Evil games, I have been reading some more academic texts on the audio and visual elements of the genre. I came across an article on GameStudies.org by Diane Carr which mentioned many important elements about the survival horror genre, taken from the game Silent Hill. The article mentioned Janet Murray's Hamlet on the Holodeck and how it described two spatial navigations in interactive texts: "Electronic environments offer the pleasure of orienteering in two very different configurations, each of which carries its own narrative power: the solvable maze and the tangled rhizome" (Murray, 2000) [1]. Survival horror games like Silent Hill and Resident Evil use the solvable maze structure in its environment design to maintain tension and propel the player forward. As mentioned in said article "...while a player could endlessly run around and around the same block, the location would be soon emptied of its potential to divert or surprise... Once the monsters have been killed, the locks opened or the puzzles solved, there is nobody to talk to and not a lot to see. Players are urged to keep moving"[2]. I have noticed this technical semtiotic code in the survival horror games I have played through various signs which connote the linear narrative progression. Puzzles which must be completed to progress and one way environments which must be explored to succeed are examples of this. 

To reiterate the point, the solvable maze configuration is seemingly used in the purest survival horror games as it allows the tension and fear of the game to be kept afloat while playing as it does not allow the player to deviate on other quests on the side. "Silent Hill's tight, maze structure fuels its ability to frighten its users. Silent Hill is able to maintain tension (more or less) throughout because it refuses to be diverted or slowed by elucidation" [2]. Even though it could be argued that not all survival games are 100% like this, as there will always be open-ended rhizome areas to explore at some points, I believe the idea that the linear narrative progression and environment design really does add to the maintaining of the game atmosphere created through the set pieces, soundtrack and the other audio and visual codes in survival horrors. 


[1] Murray Janet H, 2000, Hamlet on the Holodeck; The Future of Narrative in Cyberspace Cambridge MA MIT Press (3rd printing).

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Defining Semiotic Codes

Before I continue I should define the what semiotics are and the semiotic codes I am using/will use to best investigate the use of them in the survival horror genre. 

Semiotics is the study of signs and texts within society. Founded by Ferdinand De Saussere in 1916, it introduces the idea of finding our own meanings from these signs and constructing codes that build layers of meaning for the audience to decipher. According to semiotics, visual and audio languages are constructed within texts (which can be virtually anything) which cultures can then create meanings to. 

As noted by C.S. Pierce's Categories of Signs[1], semiotics are built through:
  • Symbols - meanings created by a consensus (e.g. The Red Cross)
  • Icons - when the visual/audio/language resembles what they signify (e.g. a picture of a dog signifies a dog, a shambling model of a zombie signifies a zombie)
  • Index - when the visual/audio/language signifies an action in context.
And through these, codes are created. These are constructed with different elements where signs are put together to create meaning for the audience to become affected by. For my project I want to only look into the audio and visual elements of survival horror games, so I will only be looking into using certain semiotic codes to analyse the genre. Common Codes such as commodity, aesthetic and technical cover the ideas of clothing, apparel and character design (commodity), the colour scheme and general look and feel of the game (aesthetic) and the way the game is editted and constructed narratively (technical). Technical Codes could also be used to look into the ideas of game genre and how the survival horror genre as a whole has created meanings intertextually about which signs make up the game experience.

To add more to this, the idea of the "repertoire" introduced in Understanding Video Games helps explain how signs and codes in texts allow the player to understand how to approach a game and how to feel, an important point when dealing with survival horrors. The repertoire in this context means the knowledge we already have about certain texts and the feelings we associate with their elements. "Knowledge of the  survival horror genre of video games. This includes basic premises such as: kill all monsters; pick up all objects because they might help solve puzzles; there is a boss, or monster, that is especially difficult to kill at the end of each level or area" [2]. 

In relation to survival horrors, the repertoire we (possibly) have about them and the horror movie conventions they use are brought to the forefront of out minds when it is activated by the audio and visual signs in the game world. As noted, "The repertoire is activated by "clues" in the game - everything from the creepy sounds when you go up the stairs to the dark rain on the fresh tombs - which indicates that we are immersed in a survival horror game" [2]. When a certain sign appears which we associate with tension and fear etc. (e.g. a crash in another room or complete silence when moving through an area) our repertoire comes into life and we start the analyse the situation. Should I be afraid? What could have made that noise? The zombie is moving slowly maybe I can outrun him! It is what we decipher from the semiotic codes from our repertoire (or lack of one) which can heighten tension, give us a battle plan or make us run in fear, ultimately covertly immmersing the player in the process.

[1] Peirce's Theory of Signs, 13/10/2006, retrieved on 16/05/2009
[2] Simon Egenfeldt-Nielsen, Jonas Heide Smith, Susana Pajares Tosca, 2008, Understanding Video Games: The Essential Introduction, Taylor & Francis

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Practical Analysis: Resident Evil

Now I will start my primary research into how the first three Resident Evil games, which I believe are all very similar and fall under the same umbrella (ha, get it?), use audio and visual elements to create fear and tension. I will look into the pinnacle moments in these games; the events, the characters and the environments which may be used to build an immersive and frightening gaming experience. 

Following this I will test my own personal accounts of these games against secondary research and opinion. Additionally, I will also have a bit of fun and ask some of my friends to personally play the games I will look at and video their responses while playing.

But that's all (hopefully) to come!


PRESS START
NEW GAME
*Deep, intimidating voice sneers*
"Resident Evil"


Immediately, considering whether you find this narration humorous or terrifying, you know this is something special. And somewhat proud- the game creators had the confidence to sneer at the player in an almost Vincent Price-esque manner, a possible sign of the game's self-assurance. It knows (or at least hopes) you're going to be scared by this game, and players are hopefully going to be rattled by it. 

The original Resident Evil had a hold on the survival horror genre straight from its 1996 release. The trademark moments in-game cemented its place in PlayStations around the world and allowed many sequels to be spawned.

As you move along the corridor you hear a tap on the window. 
Keep on walking and the dogs will make a sudden entrance.

One of the first and most notable moments in the game is, of course, the zombie-dogs crashing through the window in
that corridor. This kind of cheap scare became a staple fear device in the rest of the series, with enemies popping round corners, out of walls and a host of other places. The problem I found with this however is how, when playing, the player starts to become desensitized. As I was progressing through the game I found myself gradually not becoming as frightened by the things that would jump out at me. Certain clues would start to give away when an enemy would appear, like when you haven't seen one for a while or you see something which quickly darts out of view. As I've already wrote, this can be disturbing. You don't know what it is, where it's gone and when it will attack, but after a while I found myself being prepared for anything that would appear. This raises questions of how to avoid this happening and what games would have to do to keep this type of cheap but useful scare tactic fresh and exciting.

Regardless of it's life value, the "sudden appearance" scare still had an effect on me while I was playing. Going back to my first example of it, the zombie dogs, I was still shocked by their entrance, bringing me into the game experience and allowing me to expect things like that to happen again. But what if they didn't? What if the cheap scare was only a precursor to the rest of the scares in-game, making us believe that all we are going to see are monsters popping up, when really new and fresh scare tactics await the player? Unfortunately for Resi, the series has always relied on the cheap scare, just as horror films have. But to truly scare players nowadays, who are wise to the ways of the survival horror genre, something new must be introduced to keep the fear flowing. But what? 

Friday, April 3, 2009

I swear I just saw something.

But before I analyse Resident Evil...

Tonight was interesting. So I thought I'd quickly note down what happened. 

Admittedly a trip to a forest late at night wasn't intentionally educational (educational being relevant to what I'm investigating at the moment), but after traipsing around in the pitch black with only a few torches you start to question what you are actually afraid of. Until you see what looks like a figure in the distance.

There were 6 of us, me included, with 4 torches. I think. The moment I stepped out of the car I knew I was in a scene reminiscent of a horror film. Teenagers go off to forest, say they'll be right back, and don't. We did, and I knew we would. There was nothing in that forest except the unknown. Which was exactly what was scary. 

Of course, this has an obvious connection to survival horrors. As noted in this brilliant article I found on GamaSutra, the kind of scares I was experiencing were created out of nothing but my own imagination running wild. As the article states, "Being visual creatures, humans are most comforted by sight because of our ability to discern objects, action and consequences based on a picture". With only the ability to see only a few metres ahead, I was unable to know what we were walking into, or more importantly, who we would walk into. On top of this horror fiction cliche, it was also unbelievably foggy, just the perfect night to get spooked in the middle of nowhere and not see the axe murderer who was probably watching us walk into his trap. 

All of the survival horror games I've ever played have utilised this obvious but incredibly powerful tool. Who knows what's round the corner? In the game world, anything is possible. We wouldn't (hopefully) see zombies shuffling towards us in the real world, but in game imagination is endless. Anything could pop from anywhere. 

So as I clutched my feeble wind-up torch, glancing around quite a bit for some sign that there in fact was something there, there suddenly was. I saw a moving light, and later on, what looked like a figure. Just thinking that you've seen something that has any similarity to an object with it's own mind can set your adrenaline pumping. Even the smallest things can mess with you when you only see a small part of them. As mentioned in said article, "Even if visual stimuli is used, limiting or obfuscating the player’s view can enhance the horror in a game, especially if the player sees it for an incredible short time. This can hint both at the difficulty of an upcoming encounter, or even allude to matters earlier in the narrative that the player will soon have to face". You've seen something ahead, now you know what you're dealing with, but it's disappeared. Where has it gone? Has it seen you? 

Condemned and Resident Evil have used this technique, like many other games, very well. In the former, enemies may make an early appearance just as you enter a new area and hide. You know you have to progress past them and you know that they're there, but you don't know when or where they will strike. I found myself moving very slowly throughout the course of Condemned, the fear of not knowing when you're going to get hit by a 2x4 piece of wood is not something to run head first into. 

Resident Evil is also guilty of using snippets of enemies which disappear as soon as you hear/see them. My personal favourite is the famous debut of the Licker in Resident Evil 2. As you move along a corridor in the police station, with no sounds of zombies groaning off screen, something 4-legged crawls across one of the windows you pass by. As soon as you take a second look, it's not there anymore. Immediately this triggers feelings of caution in me, you know that you're going to have to face it. And you do, sooner than you expect. Walk up to that puddle of blood and the FMV introducing the Licker dangling from the ceiling kicks in. 

No more unknown.
Now, you've got to deal with what you've found.
  

[1] GamaSutra: Opinion - What makes a Horror Game Scary?, 27/02/09, Nayan Ramachandran. Retrieved on 03/04/09.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Enter the world of survival horror...

...is a quote straight from the original 1996 Resident Evil on the Sony PlayStation, the game that, from that one line, coined a brand new genre of digital gaming. Even though there were games beforehand which set the foundations of Capcom's ground-breaking title, it wasn't until then that the genre entered the mainstream. Since then the Resi franchise has gone on to sell in excess of 34 million copies worldwide and with such commercial and critical success over the years, the survival horror genre must have sank its teeth into the public's neck pretty firmly as even today the genre is still going strong [1]

Even though Alone in the Dark and Sweet Home created many of the conventions that Resident Evil would then use, notably the lone main characters and spooky environments, Resi would then take these much further. The gameplay has a direct link to Alone in the Dark's puzzle and combat combination. Characters have to roam around the Arklay Mansion to complete puzzles to progress further in the game, while having to fend off the zombies and various other creatures which clog the corridors. The inventory system was much more of a new feature however, and introduced the ideas of item collection. When the player found a new item, they may not have enough to space to store it, even if they need it for a puzzle they are currently completing on the other side of the mansion. Also, Resident Evil would allow the player to combine certain items together to create new ones, adding many more possibilities to the puzzle process. Maybe you need combine those plate pieces together so they fit in the indentation?

The opening scene from Resident Evil. Note the pre-rendered backgrounds and static camera angle.
 
Combat is restricted by a distinct lack of ammunition for guns, the most useful weapons for zombie disposal. When this dries up, the player will have to resort to very weak knife attacks, leaving them extremely vulnerable to attack themselves, or flee altogether. This leads to a much more frightening experience when you come across an enemy and you can't defend yourself appropriately. Zombies can be outran quite easily, except at close quarters, and the later enemies are much more proficient. When you've been attacked many times your running speed decreases, you are more vulnerable, heightening the tension. When this happens, it's much like a game of cat and mouse, and you are the mouse. In addition to this, the plot elements of the game can be furthered by finding documents around the mansion, reminiscent of Alone in the Dark, while the game also restricts the use of saving the player's game progress by only allowing them to save when they find a typewriter. Placed in a variety of places, they can only be used with an ink ribbon. When you've run out of ink ribbons, you can't save your progress. If you die you go straight back to where you started from previously, furthering heightening the fear and tension of the game. 

Now, I will analyse the audio and visual elements of the original Resident Evil and assess just why it became so popular at the time from the scares it produced, and how they managed it. Also, I will look into whether it's still frightening now and whether we can still become so immersed in the game that we forget where we are and become scared silly. 

[1] Capcom Press Release. Retrieved 01/04/2009

Monday, March 30, 2009

Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start...

So, what is survival horror? And where did it come from? Many believe that the first ever survival horror game was a 1989 Famicom game called Sweet Home. Loosely based on the horror film of the same name which was produced alongside the game, Suito Homu, it followed a group of teenagers who become trapped in a haunted mansion filled with puzzles and dangerous creatures. Shinji Makima claimed this game to be much of an inspiration to him when developing Resident Evil, most notably the door loading screen animations and the similar setting which the original Resident Evil would also use. Also, each character has their own set of skills and equipment which no-one else can use, e.g. Kazuo has a lighter and Akiko who can use her health kits to heal teammates, something which the characters in Resident Evil would also mimic. Additionally, the name Resident Evil seems to take its name from a note found in Sweet Home, which reads: 'house of residing evil'. [1]


A scene from Sweet Home.

After Sweet Home there was one title that would act much more as a precursor to the horrors of Resident Evil. In 1993 Alone in the Dark was released sporting puzzle-driven, find-the-clues gameplay while being, you guessed it, trapped in a mansion. The game used many character designs that would become staples in later survival horror titles, notably the inclusion of zombies and giant animals (some of which can not be killed and need to be escaped from). Rated as the tenth scariest game of all-time by X-Play [2], it wasn't until its third installment that it mixed the puzzle solving elements with aspects of combat, a convention adopted in later games Resident Evil and Silent Hill. Aswell as this, Alone in the Dark was one of the first games to feature the mix of 3D models on 2D graphics, something which Resident Evil would take much further and use for the majority of its games until the much more action-oriented Resident Evil 4 [1]. Alone in the Dark drew much inspiration from the writings of horror-fiction writer H.P. Lovecraft, whose chilling works were wracked with misanthropy. Many of his writing conventions were applied to the letters found around the mansion- one line is particularly frightening, "They will find my body but will not have my soul". [3]

Which brings us to this happy fellow below...

A Licker, blind but deadly.

[1] Davies, Jamie. "Surviving Horror: a brief timeline of evil". NTSC-uk. Retrieved on 30/03/2009
[2] "The Scariest Games of All-Time Episode" X-Play 6111 (10/25/2006). Retrieved on 31/03/2009 
[3] Zenke, Michael. "Dreading the Shadows on the Wall". The Escapist. Retrieved on 31/03/2009