You're Pathetic, Wesker!
I have never been the biggest fan of the horror genre. Perhaps it comes from being exposed to such content at an early age, but I find that most modern horror conventions just fall flat on their face everytime for me. I'm not even just bemoaning the reliance on jumpscare tactics that we see nowadays, I can't find myself buying into these situations at a fundamental level. I fail to buy into the promise of danger that these stories try to drum up and it ultimately means that once the spookiness turns deadly, I stop caring. This has made it very hard for me to settle into the genre when it comes to film.
In video games, however, it is a completely different story. Likely due to the immersion of the medium, I take the danger to heart in such a visceral way that I often find myself having to force myself out of such experiences after suffering from actual heart palpitations. (I'm pretty sure Outlast almost killed me.) This has presented another barrier for me to enter horror as I cannot enjoy experiences like this, they actually cross the Rubicon into something approaching actual terror and discomfort for me. There was one game series, however, that skirted the line so deftly that I was able to overcome my misgivings and truly buy into and appreciate the genre. From the title of this blog you can probably figure out which series that was.
Resident Evil games have been in my life for a very long time. I actually remember playing the original Resident Evil and it's sequel with my father when I was far too young to be playing a game about flesh-eating monsters. It wouldn't be until years later when I returned to the franchise, but by that time it had shirked it's horror roots and become... whatever the heck Resident Evil 4 was. Recently I have re-entered Resident Evil franchise from the horror side of things and have truly managed to dive into what makes the game scary, so I want to share my thoughts on what exactly that is today.
Firstly, I want to establish the key ways in which Resident Evil differentiates itself from other famous horror games such as Outlast, Amnesia and 'Alien : Isolation'. (All games that I have played and am yet to finish, by the by.) These games all provide fantastic examples of the one aspect of the genre that I cannot come to enjoy, moments of inducing crippling terror. I'm not just talking about relying on cheap jump scares in a weak attempt to serve the atmosphere, I mean truly committing and pulling off genuine, heart wrenching scares. The fact that these games could manage this is not to denigrate them in the slightest, it's an absolute testament to the skill of the crafters that those 3 games I mentioned can get as scary as they can. Unfortunately, I am just personally too sensitive to these kinds of scares and just can't get behind them. (It's purely a subjective issue, I acknowledge.) Which is why I'm grateful that the Resident Evil franchise approaches horror from a different angle.
When talking about Resident Evil there is a phrase that is often bought up in relation to it's genre; yes the game is undeniably a horror, but it is specifically designated the moniker of 'survival' horror. That's an important distinction to make as Capcom's focus on the elements that make this game a 'survival' horror is what ensures the experience is so much more enjoyable (for me) than a lot of other straight-horror titles. Just so we are clear, 'Surival horror' is defined as the type of horror game in which the player is given a limited quantity of resources which they have to use up to survive. I realize that, by that definition, Amnesia would also constitute as a survival horror, but there is another aspect to it. You see, Survival horror games almost all share the ability for the protagonist to defend themselves, and that alone completely transforms the experience.
Spend enough time playing indie horror games, or just watching others subject themselves to the genre, and you'll start to realize how pervasive the 'helpless protagonitst' trope is in that crowd. This is because that those creators are aware that if they allow for the player to face the foe then they lose the mystery of the unknown, and oftentimes that can be all these games have going for them. (They don't seem to realize that the cat is often out of the bag the second that the player first dies, anyway.) Survival horror games like Resident Evil, The Suffering and F.E.A.R (I guess) turn this dynamic on it's head and in doing so tap into a different, less fragile, basis for scares: Scarcity.
When all you have to defend yourself from certain death is a gun and a limited supply of ammo, every single resource you have becomes special and when you start running out of those stockpiles the panic starts to rise. Panic is a tool that make can make any situation scary, no matter the context. Resident Evil leverages this in it's very design to keep players feeling like the underdogs despite having the means to defends themselves. After significant encounters you'll often find yourself drained, not just of health, but of ammunition, and suddenly all those zombies that you thought you had gotten over earlier become just as scary as they initially were.
In this way, Resident Evil delves into psychological horror in a supremely meta way. Of course, Capcom still make expert use of setting and thematic cues to get players in a state of mind where they are more susceptible to scares, but their terror currency is really earnt under the hood of the game in the core mechanics. Gross out character models and scary sounds may be effective for the first time you play through a horror experience, but gameplay-induced panic will hit you every single time until you personally adapt to be more confident. It's almost as though the game has reached beyond the confines of the magic box and spread it's influence into your very life. (However I may just be getting a little flowery there.)
Resident Evil also manages to be so effective on players through the way that it preps them to be more vulnerable. Traditionally, in film, this is achieved in horror through a mixture of techniques including the limiting of visual information granted to the audience, (Which I'll talk more about later) forced perspectives that put the audience right next to the danger and has them feel helpless and aforementioned general spooky atmospheric tropes. In gaming, however, the creators horizons can be expanded.
One of best ways to make your audience pliable is to have them feel uncomfortable, and Resident Evil utilizes two key strategies to invoke this sensation. Keeping on the topic of scarcity, Capcom ensure to provide the player with less resources dependant on the selected difficulty level. On Easy, players have plenty of ammo to handle their zombie foes, on Normal that is no longer the case. Hard will have you counting every single bullet in a desperate attempt to keep you numbers in the black. Naturally, this means that you no longer have the luxury of wasting everybody who so much as looks at you funny and you'll have to start figuring how to get around threats and slink by them. Soon you'll be constantly consulting the map and planning your route through the mansion to avoid problem hallways. By the endgame you'll have to rule out entire chunks of the map for how insane they become. (Oh, dogs have jumped through the window into this hallway? Heck, they can have it.)
The second technique the Devs is used is one that has, arguably, aged poorly, but which I still respect; forced perspective. I mentioned how movies do this in order to make you feel closer to the protagonist, this is not necessary in gaming as you already technically are the protagonist. Instead Capcom purposefully chose fixed camera angles for every room in the game in order to limit what the player can see and ensure that you can never get a full breadth of your predicament in one shot; thus limiting your visual information. (See, it all connects.)
Of course, I cannot talk about this without bringing up the other technique they used which is so archaic that they promptly scrapped it for the 2001 re-release. (Although you can re-enable it in the settings if you hate yourself enough.) Many people believe that the terrible tank controls of the original game was a result of early game design quirks and a lack of experience on the developers side, which they are partially right about. The movement was no were near as good as many games of today, or even of the day, with players needing to turn their whole body in the direction they need to go before walking. (A cumbersome and tedious task.) However, the Devs were aware of this issue and within their abilities to fix it. Ultimately the decision was made, though by who I do not know, to keep the clunky controls as is added to the feeling of discomfort for the player.
The logic was sound, however they didn't account for the fact that poor controls as a concept does more to encourage frustration than is does terror. To their credit, Capcom did realize this and worked on fixing things for future titles, however we do still have some holdovers from that old system. Quirks to the control scheme like the way in which the character must stop moving and aim their gun before shooting does a better job of tapping into that panic that the Devs were originally gunning for.
So far I have spoken only of the atypical ways in which Resident Evil is a great example to the horror genre, however I would me remiss to point out how much of a great job they do nailing the fundamentals. Ambient sound is handled deftly by Capcom for this game, with the team knowing exactly where to empathize silence and where to place those subtle sound cues. Nothing is overplayed and every shuffle is balanced just right to send a shiver up the player's spine in all the right ways. Visually the Spencer Mansion is a treat too. Leaning on it's Gothic Grecian routes, you'll find yourself gently toured around the subtly-oppressive and classically morbid decor as you try to puzzle your way through the labyrinthine layout. I can attest to how unnerved you can become when you see the painting of the duelists caught in the act of killing each other, and that's just the tip of the iceberg. (Although I will say that Resident Evil 0's Training facility did push this concept into the garish at times.)
And, of course, there are the jump scares; oh, the jump scares. Due to everything else that Resident Evil has going for it, Capcom don't have to rely too heavily on this trope, which is good because they aren't particularly good at it. Back when I was far too young to be playing this game, I remember being terrified of the moment when you loot a desk and turn around only to have the wardrobe burst open to reveal a zombie, but I can see how stilted the scene is now, especially in the way that Capcom felt the need to lock you into a cutscene to pull it off. (If the game takes away your control you immediately lose the urgency of the situation thus defanging your jump scare.) They made that mistake a few times, such as when you first stumble into the kitchen and when you drain the bath for the key. (That one was so cliche.) However, credit to Capcom once again because there were a couple of noticeable instances wherein they didn't do this and the result was a far superior scare.
The most famous example of this would undoubtedly be the aforementioned moment when two zombie dogs launch themselves through a ground floor window and essentially claim ownership of that hallway for the rest of your playthrough. It's almost as though that moment is Capcom teaching players to pick their fights, you can't win them all and you certainly can't put down two zombie dogs at once without them exacting a toll from you; usually a sizable chunk of your health bar and flesh. (Then Milla Jovovich ruined it in her movie in that stupid scene where she Neo-kicks them in the face. But the less we mention that movie, the better.) The most effective moment for me, however, was when you are returned to the mansion and find many of the hallways that you were familiar with filled with new occupants. You will inevitably navigate around to that key connecting corridor in the west wing and find a previously shut door that has been forced open. You walk down it, probably with considerable trepidation, only to find... you know what? I won't spoil it. Although, safe to say that shock has got me on multiple playthroughs. (I get distracted easily, okay!)
Resident Evil may not boast the greatest graphics or the tightest gameplay, (or a coherent storyline and decent voice acting) but it still holds up as one of the scariest- no, creepiest games in history. This game won't have you hyperventilating for 20 minutes straight because it swung a dead body in your face, (Yeah, Outlast messed me up bad.) but it will keep you on edge until the final results screen. I owe this series a great deal for making the genre of horror accessible to someone like me and I look forward to going to it in excruciatingly excessive detail in the future. But I won't spoil my plans on that just yet (Especially seeing as how said-plans are yet to be written.) In the meantime, if you're one of those people who wants to get into horror but can't stomach all the abrasive jumpscares, do yourself a favour and pick up Resident Evil 1. (It's sure to be cheap this time of year.) Capcom might just make a convert out of you too.
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