My own reflections on the genre
“Whoever wins… we lose.”
The tagline for Alien vs. Predator (2004). At the old age of seven, I heckled my father into letting me watch this movie, rated PG-15. More a high-octane action flick and not a traditional horror like the original Alien films, it still left enough of a mark that I only in recent years have dared delve into the world of thrillers and horror. Its realm is still a strange one to me, but now it’s because I can’t be bothered to dig through the pile of bad horror to find the few nuggets of gold. I’ll let others do that for me, so I might reap the benefits later.
However, it might be the reason I now claim to not be afraid of anything. Nothing irrational, at least. I’m not scared of heights, I think spiders and other insects are cute, and I only use my flashlight in the dark to avoid tripping over my own feet. I do cast the occasional glance over my shoulder after watching, reading or playing something creepy (the survival horror genre has quickly become one of my favourite genres), but probably not as much as I otherwise would have.
As I mentioned above, the survival horror genre has quickly become one of my favourite genres of video games. Part of this, I believe, is that it takes Poe’s formula for horror and stretches it further than what was possible hundred years ago by putting the reader-now-player front and center.
“The isolation of the reader, the stunning of his sensibility, the victimization of his emotions and the premature burial of his reason.”[1]
This applies even more effectively to video games. It contrasts greatly to the literary form of horror, such as The Family Car,[2] IT or Pet Sematary, where we must learn to know the protagonist, the reasons for why they are terrified and then sympathise with them. This is a step that video games vault over. By using The Family Car as an example, the pitch for that, as a short story could go somewhat like,
“So, Lindsay is pursued by her old family car that disappeared a decade ago, and her grandmother goes missing soon after.”
It’s a very similar pitch for it as a potential video game, except the pronouns are all replaced with “I”.
“So, I are pursued by my old family car that disappeared a decade ago, and my grandmother goes missing soon after.”
Games do not make me a passive onlooker, they put me in the driver’s seat. Every action that I take (or don’t) either drives me towards my safety or my death. As such, making me sympathise with the protagonist is unnecessary, given how I am the protagonist. I am alone. Hunted, usually by forces which the means to fight are far beyond reach. Or I’m not, where only sounds and light plays tricks on my mind to make me frightened of what could be there.
[1] David R. Saliba, A Psychology of Fear, (Washington D.C: University Press of America, 1980), p. 17
[2] Brady Golden, ‘The Family Car’, New Fears, Titan Books, September 2017
Bibliography:
Anderson, Paul W. S., Alien vs. Predator (2004), 20th Century Fox
Flanagan, Mike, The Haunting of Hill House, October 2018, Netflix
Golden, Brady, ‘The Family Car’, New Fears, Titan Books, September 2017
King, Stephen, IT, Hodder and Stoughton, 1986
King, Stephen, Pet Sematary, Doubleday, November 1983
Scott, Ridley, Alien (1979), 20th Century Fox
Pinch of Horror 