It’s probably enough to say this is one of my all-time favorites. It was a pleasure to revisit it.
You can read my full thoughts here.
It’s probably enough to say this is one of my all-time favorites. It was a pleasure to revisit it.
You can read my full thoughts here.
“There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it.”
– Alfred Hitchcock
Esteemed filmmaker Alfred Hitchcock knew better than most the importance of building to climax: that the true fear in an event rested in the anticipation of it.
There’s something to be said for a slowly unfolding disaster.
Perhaps inspired by Hitchcock himself, this principle has been used to great effect within the video game industry as well.
Even going back to the old Atari 2600 days, one doesn’t have to squint to see the concept at play in a game like “Haunted House,” which battled through its technical limitations to provide jump scares that generate without any sort of rhyme or predictability, leaving the gamer always guessing about what might await them around every corner.
Importantly, these jump scares are not relentless in their approach. Instead, they come at odd moments, spaced from one another, creating a tension in the process.
Action platformers like “Metroid” built off of the idea and leaned into a sense of isolation in particular, milking the anticipation – primarily through scoring and level/enemy design – so as to make the gamer wait for the action to be sprung upon them, often by a creepy-looking critter.
The game was more “Alien” than “Vertigo.”
The important bit was to make the gamer wait, but the developers also emphasized this feeling of being alone, and in the case of the original Metroid in particular, of feeling lost.
Much of Samus Aron’s story since has been built upon this tenet.
Attempts at the “survival horror” genre in the early 90s (before it was even called that) included titles like “Alone in the Dark” and “The 7th Guest,” games that were preoccupied with expanding upon the idea of an isolated traveller being trapped in a specific, well-realized place.
In each case, it was a dangerous, haunted house. And the developers added set pieces and puzzles to the equation within a more graphical presentation. The gamer felt directly challenged by these games – as if the contest was personal. The comparatively fast-moving action of Metroid was discarded in favor of slower, more carefully considered dangers – a noteworthy shift itself – but the main outcome was this sense of being personally involved in the conflict.
You were being invited to observe the situation AND to intervene. Like a security guard watching security footage and reacting to it, these games didn’t so much put you in the protagonist’s shoes as challenge you to help them.
Have you ever watched a horror movie and felt an overwhelming urge to yell at the characters to act a particular way? Perhaps you’ve actually yelled at the screen (it’s cathartic and I recommend it).
“Don’t go into the woods!”
“Arm yourself, you fools!”
“Hire an acting coach, for the love of all that’s holy!”
The first brave steps into the survival horror genre tapped into this exact desire of barking commands at people, but instead of being a passive passenger, they allowed you to directly influence the survivability of your usual collection of morons and actually stack the odds in the protagonists’ favor.
All of which leads us to “Resident Evil,” which today has established itself as inarguably one of gaming’s most popular and important series.
And the franchise’s success can be traced to this impulse of wanting to save people in danger. Resident Evil, perhaps better than any other gaming property, allows you to step in and do that.
(And you can still yell at them if you want to.)
Continue reading Resident Evil 2 — Retro Gaming Essentials (No. 54)Resident Evil 2 at a glance:
Genre: Survival horror
Released: 1998
Platform: PlayStation
Game Informer’s 34th best game of all time
You ever watch a pitcher in baseball who’s got one pitch — but it’s a really good one — just keep after it with that one pitch? Over and over and OVER. It’s relentless.
“Resident Evil 4” is a lot like that pitcher. At the end of the day, it’s trying to do one thing exceedingly well.
That one thing is action, and you can see in its DNA how the development of this survival-horror game led to the creation of other action-heavy properties like “Devil May Cry.” Famously, this game marked the move of the series away from its jump scare sensibilities to more of a Rambo mentality. The perspective and some of the controls have changed. As has the atmosphere, which dumps you into Cult Central and hums along at an impressive clip from beginning to end.
This is where you go to get attacked by wave after wave of undead baddie, mowing them all down … but only so much as your ammunition will allow.
Like a rollercoaster that takes one big dip too many, it’s noticeable (eventually) that Resident Evil 4 is determined to keep the action alive far longer than it needs to.
Granted, this is mostly best-in-class stuff here, so much so that this game has been copied about 7 gazillion times (give or take). But for fans of the series’ earlier style, or for folks who swear by more modern fare, it has the potential to overstay its welcome a hair.
The good news? You get to mash a bunch of zombies, which is always a good time, and this game executes that concept exceptionally.
If you’re anything like me, you’ve consumed a LOT of books, film, television, music, video games, and [insert other media of choice] over the course of your lifetime.
I’ve been on this planet nearly 50 years, and in basically all of that time, I’ve been a junkie for the stuff.
I can’t rattle off details of my own life in nearly as much detail as I can the particulars of a television show I consumed multiple times over the course of my childhood.
That Disney trip when I was six? Pretty fuzzy.
But that kid with melting chocolate smeared all over their face having consumed the gooiest cookie imaginable in the company of one noted thespian Cookie Monster on “Sesame Street” … that visceral image will probably be with me on my death bed.
I think realizing this fact as an adult in part helped me come out of my shell, meet a wonderful woman, get into adventures, and even begin raising kids … leading to even more adventures!
One’s own life should be more memorable than a TV character’s, yeah?
“Yeah, I know James Bond just jumped out of a plane. But I changed my kid out of a mega-ton poopy diaper. Let’s see him do THAT!”
But I do love me some media. And personally, I tend to gravitate toward fiction because I like storytelling.
I like the mere concept of it, of a yarn-spinner with a rapt audience telling tall tales of adventure and excitement.
But I also enjoy the craft of it, peeling back some of the layers and figuring out the how and why of what eventually turned up in a story.
“The Pitt” offers a different spin on the standard hospital procedure we’ve all seen before, shifting the narrative into roughly hour-long episodes that correlate to the passage of hours over a particularly intense shift in an emergency unit of a hospital in the Pittsburgh area (hence “The Pitt”).
15 episodes in a season of the show = 15 straight hours at a crazy-town period of time at this hospital.
The format here is distinct as most shows go, and it adds to the urgency. If someone comes in with a moderate problem in Hour 1, and then you see it devolve into a more serious issue by Hour 4, you’re at that point invested in seeing the patient come through. Partly for their own sake, of course, but more often for the sakes of the doctors and nurses doing their best to provide good care to the people around them.
Over 40-plus odd years of watching movies and television, reading, listening to music, and playing games, I’ve certainly seen things get repeated a fair bit.
So, something new makes an impression.
“The Pitt,” now very much highly lauded by critics and the awards shows, elevates previous attempts at the genre such as “E.R.” through its special structure. That’s enough to make the show an easy recommendation.
But for me, a particular storyline in Season 1 is what sunk its talons into me and convinced me this is one of the most important shows on television, and again, it was because it provided me something new.
It answered the question, “How do we say goodbye?”
Continue reading Why ‘The Pitt’ deserves all of its flowers … and more