Some Constituent Elements of Effective Horror Games

With horror video games, as is similarly present in all forms of artistic media, inspiration is often taken from specific foundational works which were instrumental in the introduction of a new style or gameplay concept. Games of this monumental originality attained a level of popularity and acclaim which other developers understandably are often desirous of replicating, or capitalizing off of, in their own contributions to the genre. In many instances, however, their dissection of these important titles is cursory, and the success of said games is erroneously attributed to a simplified, enumerated list of its unique features. This shallow understanding of these features or set-pieces strips them of their brilliance by ignoring the intricately crafted context in which they were employed. Subsequently, any created facsimile of this nature will fail to cultivate the same emotional experience despite seemingly having the same general features as the works they intended to copy. Clone games commonly fall victim to this, for example, PT clones having a repeating hallway without emulating the tension or feeling of mounting insanity the original elicited. Additionally, if new games continuously attempt to be distillations of past standards, then inevitably the uniqueness and luster of these experiences will be tarnished by how common and tiresome the tropes have become. A new vision, and the passion to experiment and bring individuality to a game, seems, at least in my opinion, a fair place to start when angling to create a game of one’s own.

To me, a paramount component of an effective horror game is the precisely planned pacing of its set-pieces. I have frequently seen a horror title with interesting gameplay lose its sense of intimidation and fear the longer a particular segment lasts. It seems that the constant repetition of gameplay scenarios has diminishing returns with respect to elicited fear. Since trepidation in the face of the unknown is an apodictic contributor to a fantastic horror atmosphere, the familiarity born from doing the exact same actions again and again compromises them of their unpredictability and, consequently, their intensity. For instance, the first time you have to run around in circles in a town avoiding people chasing you until you find where you’re supposed to go can be heart-pounding, however, the fifth time you find yourself in yet another town, the sense of expectation renders the inevitable “running around in circles” more of a grind than a fearful flee for your life. Situations like this are immersion breaking, forcing the player to tepidly endure another monotonous section once again. Talented directors understand the necessity of altering the gameplay set-pieces throughout the duration to prevent them from becoming stale. There have been numerous effective means of accomplishing this, typically a combination of changes to location, enemies, items, characters, etc. Or, the game can be shortened before issues concerning repetition would arise.

There also seems to be an underlying theme of incurring an instinctual, almost primal, feeling of fear associated with the sense of powerlessness in the face of that which can bring harm. I think this is perhaps one explanation for the effectiveness of games like Amnesia and Outlast, as physically condemning the player to flee as opposed to fight ensures that this disparity in power is an intrinsic, insurmountable aspect of the game. However, contrary to what some might believe, forced defenselessness is not a necessity to accomplish this. To exemplify, in Resident Evil 4, that irrepressible feeling of being overwhelmed and closed in, uncertain of your own survival, is achievable even when weapons are at your disposal. In the hands of a knowledgeable designer, availability and strength of weaponry should be meticulously planned so as to ensure that each new set piece incurs this same visceral response in the player regardless of how well-armed or prepared they might have assumed themselves to be. Essentially, the threats should be escalated and altered in accordance with upgrades and character progression to maintain the fear of helplessness and the unexpected throughout the game.

One of the commonly residing issues in psychological horror titles is their inclination towards the inclusion of bizarre, esoteric visuals that contribute little to the conveyance of atmosphere or the overarching narrative. Evocative, symbolic imagery should certainly be purposeful and not just present for the sake of the player remarking on or reacting to its oddity. There is a delicate balance in crafting these images, especially considering the point is usually to imply the existence of some underlying truth or eventual reveal without giving it away prematurely. Properly cultivating the information you present and how to present it can be a daunting task, as you have to avoid being explicit and expositional while ensuring that your intended plot is not so intangible as to fail at being comprehensible or sufficiently resonant with your audience. Additionally, letters or notes in games are frequently relied upon as purveyors of the main narrative as opposed to supplementary features to embellish the existing tone. “Walking Simulators” tend to encounter this issue often as well, which to me represents an inability to appropriately use the innate interactivity and visual nature of the medium of video games to convey the designer’s desired idea or story. As stated, minor details can contribute significantly if the available capabilities afforded by the medium are taken advantage of to their fullest extent. Conducting a player’s movement through crafted set-pieces, directing their attention or sight-line to a particular area using lighting and sounds, depicting the protagonist’s feeling of being trapped or isolated by physically trapping or isolating the player, etc. are just some of the multitudinous examples of the versatility offered to any designer harboring an inventive mind and the passion to create an experience of their own.

Little Misfortune

Background: The eponymous Misfortune begins her story playing alone in her room when an inscrutable entity, self-entitled, “The Humble Narrator”, intrudes upon her solitude and addresses the player, informing them that the naïve, unfortunate eight-year-old girl they see before them will die later on that day. Unexpectedly, Misfortune indicates that she can hear the Narrator and his infelicitous prediction, though simply dismisses him as a voice inside her imaginative mind, aptly named, “Mr. Voice”. With the promise of attaining “Eternal Happiness”, Mr. Voice successfully convinces Misfortune to follow his instructions and play his game while avoiding the influence and advice of a fox named Benjamin, whom he contemptuously refers to as conniving and untrustworthy. Along their journey, “Little Lady” Misfortune sprinkles glitter on the melancholic and oft grotesque scenes she witnesses in order to spread happiness and project her lighthearted perceptions onto her dismal surroundings. She wanders cheerfully past nonsensical images and creatures that have suddenly blended into her categorically prosaic world, until she encounters her beloved Benjamin and confirms her mounting suspicions about Mr. Voice’s true intentions. As a demonic being from another reality, Mr. Voice lures children to his realm with his affable persona and tantalizing offers of happiness, and Benjamin has consequently been trained as an agent of Death to safely shepherd these lost souls to their final resting place, Senersedee. Benjamin dramatically repels the demon in battle and guides Misfortune towards the harrowing realization that had long eluded her distracted, jocular mind; her abusive, alcoholic father drunkenly sped into their family’s lot, colliding with her small body and instantly killing her. With resigned acceptance, Misfortune utters an unheard farewell to the mother who never wanted her and follows Benjamin to the open doors of eternal rest.

***

There’s always something ineffably unsettling and depressive about witnessing how an innocent, imaginative child attempts to reconcile the immutable depravity of their familial situation with the paltry extent of their emotional maturity and ability to comprehend the true gravity of their circumstances. The implementation of a soft voice with a youthful intonation to portray Misfortune’s thoughts effectively elicits a profoundly jarring and starling contrast when such a melodious cadence is heard bluntly commenting on topics of an extraordinarily adult and grim character. This intentional discordance is replicated visually in the externalization of the upbeat, fanciful images that Misfortune conjures to mitigate the severity of the tribulations which she can’t yet fully understand or contend with in any alternative manner. It seems this game is rather adept at conveying the harsh realities of Misfortune’s life as viewed through the lens of a skewed, puerile perspective, for instance, when Misfortune notices obvious drug paraphernalia and offhandedly states that it reminds her of her father’s “science projects”. The innate quality of the malleable, young mind to demonstrate some unexpected perspicacity and vocabulary, yet still harbor notable limitations to their mental faculties is rather accurately represented through Misfortune’s interactions with her surroundings.

Little Misfortune’s intentional directorial decision to present a foundationally horrific tale about the abuse, neglect, and death of a child through layers of fantastical imagery and an occasionally farcical tone helped to make Misfortune’s circumstances somewhat mercifully digestible. Stories entrenched in unrelenting darkness and portrayed with the uncompromising bleakness of their reality are decidedly evocative in the sincerity and resonance of their subject matter, however, tempering this harshness while retaining the perspicuity of the underlying message is a rather laudable accomplishment as well. As I mentioned earlier on, much of the instances of mitigating levity are derived from Misfortune’s own irreverence and the oft absurd observations and remarks she bluntly expresses, which seem to accurately capture the randomness and inquisitiveness of youth. I suppose it can therefore be argued that the grimly comedic elements are purposeful in allaying the heaviness of the paramount themes as well as augmenting the players’ understanding of Misfortune’s intrinsic personality and perspectives.

Concerning these aforementioned themes, there appears to be a rather comprehensive lesson precipitated from the events and symbolism comprising Misfortune’s journey through her purgatorial state. Essentially, Misfortune is somewhat anomalous in her response to the execrable situations which surround her life, considering that many children her age would potentially internalize the abuse and, given their emotional immaturity and impressionable young minds, learn that such behavior is a permissible and salubrious way of contending with pain. Victimized children may be more desperate to achieve an idealistic, “Eternal Happiness”, thereby rendering them susceptible to the malicious manipulation of their own personal demons. Misfortune, in her categorical, talkative cheerfulness, subverts the intentions of her own "Mr. Voice" and possesses sufficient strength to remain contented with the inner warmth she personally emanates. In a sense, Misfortune’s dispersal of glitter not only demonstrates her capability to mentally transmogrify the depravity around her, but also represents the infectious joy she desires to spread to others. She is a source of effulgence, a single light amidst the shadowy, depressive atmosphere which densely overhangs the lives of everyone in the town. For example, each adult dons a plastered mask of feigned happiness that is advertised and sold in stores, which can be interpreted as symbolic for society’s exhortation to conceal all emotional tumult. The repression of suffering seems to be a rather pervasive problem in Misfortune's neighborhood that has apparently contributed to reliance on alcohol, partying, drugs, criminality, and other pernicious means to attain some semblance or transient experience of that ever-elusive happiness. Eventually, the damaging influence of these "adult demons" begins to affect the lives of their children, and the perpetual cycle of trauma is fed anew. When Misfortune’s mother receives (or is influenced by) the love and happiness that her daughter was able to coax from the recesses of her imaginative, optimistic mind no matter her current situation, the grieving woman finally removes her mask and faces her future with the sense of hopefulness that Misfortune had tried to earn for her all along. I suppose, in summation, Little Misfortune, despite the implications of its title, is a game about resilience and perceiving life’s tribulations with the same ardor and vivacious spirit as a certain odd, charming little lady.

Though many of the notably bizarre visuals could be viewed as manifestations of Mr. Voice’s illogical realm that have bled into Misfortune’s reality, certain pieces of imagery are also evident depictions of the world in which she resides, for instance, the hamsters committing crimes, making and using drugs, and partaking in lude behaviors, as well as the drunk duck and profane bird. The design for Mr. Voice himself and the circumstances of his demise were perhaps a bit too comical or tonally incongruous with the reveal that succeeds it, and the fight with Benjamin could have been visually obscured to maintain the mystery and intimidation of the demon. Considering Benjamin’s notes mentioned being “rewarded with new levels, tools, and more steps” after each successful escort mission to Senersedee, it seems this altercation was intentionally exaggerated to appear as a final boss battle between an RPG hero and his mortal enemy.

Lastly, Mr. Voice’s actor was particularly adept at modulating the timbre of his line delivery in order to convey generosity and compassion or incorporate exasperation, curtness, and volatility as necessary.

Little Misfortune’s inauspicious journey through the mysterious limbo realm that she unknowingly wanders yielded moments of levity often at her expense, however, the eventual culmination at the gates of death was satisfying in a way that imbued her story arc with a sense of both pathos and purpose. Though the various forms of gameplay were truly quite sporadic and minimal throughout the entirety of this game, the centralized focus on dialogue interchanges, aesthetics and overall design of the environments explored, and the structure and flow of the overarching narrative were sufficient to cultivate a taut and continuously compelling experience.

Developed by: Killmonday Games AB

Finding Paradise

Background: As a sequel to the ineffably poignant and heartfelt To The Moon, Finding Paradise follows the returning protagonists, Eva and Neil Watts, as they hurriedly and erratically head towards their new client and second assignment from their employer, SigCorp. In replication of their earlier adventure, the two are once more tasked with entering and altering the memories of an individual ineluctably encroaching upon death, with the intention of eliminating lingering regrets and convincing the subject that the successes and dreams which had woefully eluded them were, in fact, accomplished during their life. The installation of quixotic, falsified remembrances and the revocation of residual pain consequently ensures the final moments of a person’s consciousness are replete with a sense of personal satisfaction and fulfillment. This unique, exceptionally compelling concept evinces numerous potential discussions pertaining to the transience of human life and the innumerable limitations that dictate all we can possibly experience and achieve in the time we are given.

Colin is the subject of the SigCorp employees’ current expedition who assented, despite the reluctance of his wife, Sofia, to undergo their specialized procedure in the years preceding the declination of his health. During the initial consultation, all potential clients are prompted to articulate the specific aspirations to be manifested on their death bed, however, anomalously, Colin demonstrates significant equivocation when asked to delineate the changes he would make to his life. He meekly expresses a general sense of dissatisfaction, yet ardently insists that no alterations are to be enacted to his family structure and development, thus inducing quite a quandary for Eva and Neil to unravel in order to fulfill their task. Concerning the characterization of Colin himself, he was previously featured as the child protagonist of the short, surreal title, A Bird’s Story, which follows his life as a reticent, profoundly escapist individual whose imagination frequently manifests and terraforms the landscape of his reality. Colin develops a close relationship with an injured bird, whom he nurses back to health and eventually come to depend upon as his sole companion. In need of experiencing the freedom of flight and adventure, the bird formally parts with his friend for good.

***

Faye, in my interpretation, seems to be a fictional creation resulting from Colin’s loneliness, intended to fill the emptiness left by the bird following its departure. Colin’s parents were shown to be frequently absent throughout his childhood and, with the bird no longer in his life, he retreated within the comforting recesses of his vivid imagination and constructed a new friend so he wouldn’t have to face his tribulations alone. As his situation improved through the years, and he experienced success in his career and the affection of Sofia, Colin saw Faye fading from his mind until he finally realized that he could move forward without her. Relinquishing Faye made Colin feel more present and less aloof, as Sofia professes when Asher was born, though the vastness and wonder of his dreams never quite dissipated alongside his imagined friend, and the lucidity required to fully appreciate the beauty of the time he had alive was unfortunately compromised. Sofia’s mentality exhibited the opposite, and she states that she is contented with her life even knowing that alternative paths and perhaps a happier reality could have been possible for her. This is likely one of the reasons why she cannot understand Colin’s desire to hire SigCorp. Even without Faye, Colin is an escapist, an individual who employs the brilliance of their imagination to numb the pain of confronting problems directly. From my own experiences, I’ve learned that while it is sometimes curative and almost necessary to be occasionally dissonant from the contemplation of life’s callousness, ceding your awareness of reality and welcoming the immersion of fantasy compromises the potency of your ability to be present and cognizant of the happiness you do encounter. No matter the extent of the joys you face, they will inevitably seem diminutive against the backdrop of the limitless potential accessible only within the confines of your imagined, constructed reality. Impossibly high expectations corrode the enjoyment of tangible experiences, leaving nothing but a residual, inexplicable feeling that true satisfaction and contentment are inexorably elusive. I think this vague emptiness was perhaps what Colin was subjected to, which predicated his desire to seek the services of SigCorp despite his uncertainty and inability to articulate exactly what should be changed in order to finally attain this ideal. Yet, all he needed was Faye to cull the memory of SigCorp, as his choice to pursue their program was an immutable representation of his discontent, and instead help him to accept his life for what it was—imperfect, flawed, and categorized by the normal oscillations of highs and lows familiar to everyone.

Colin didn’t need SigCorp to show him what his reality could have been; he needed to be told that his reality was enough.

This was an utterly beautiful game to experience, and though I found the comedic fight sequence between Faye and Watts to be a bit drawn out and tonally incongruous with the extraordinary pathos of the scene which succeeded it, overall Colin’s story was truly capable of eliciting deep introspection on the trying topics of life, death, and regret.

-Developed by: Freebird Games

Lorelai

Background: Lorelai serves as the culmination of developer Harvester Games’ trilogy of point-and-click puzzle/visual novel titles, which each explore the tribulations and actualities of contending with various mental illnesses through the prism of both sympathetic realism and visual abstraction. The titular Lorelai begins her journey as young nursing home assistant living in a derelict flat with her mother, Miranda, half-sister, Bethany, and alcoholic step-father, John. Languishing in the utter despair of her crumbling life and the exacerbating vehemence of John’s abuse, Miranda commits suicide, leaving Lorelai to soon perish at the hands of John’s drunken wrath. In death, the ethereal Queen of Maggots appears to Lorelai and offers her immortality and the opportunity to rescue Bethany and her affable neighbor, Zack, from John’s malice and indiscriminate violence. Featured prominently in the two preceding games of the trilogy, Downfall and The Cat Lady, the Queen of Maggots is a being of inscrutable motivations and morality who manifests in her surreal, purgatorial realm as a benign old woman and persuades her selected accomplice to act as her proxy in the world of the living. Lorelai is anointed as “Princess of Maggots”, imbued with spectral abilities, and tasked with surreptitiously accompanying a recovering alcoholic, Al, through the mundanities of his daily life. If the player, acting through Lorelai, abides by the Queen’s exhortations and slowly erodes the tremulous foundation of Al’s current sobriety, Al will capitulate his fracturing resilience and commit suicide. Alternatively, should Lorelai defy her orders and whisper encouragement to Al, he consequently solidifies his tenacity and persists in his strenuous journey towards self-betterment. Despite these profoundly disparate narrative trajectories, Lorelai features only a few minor variations to its primary conclusion.

***

The Cat Lady, from the basis of my personal perspective, was a brilliantly haunting, poignant experience that tactfully and cleverly explored grim, deeply philosophical concepts such as death, grief, self-harm, depression, and suicide. It adroitly cultivated its atmosphere to effectively and realistically convey the overhanging bleakness of Susan’s life while avoiding miring the narrative in unnecessary, ostentatious darkness. In many ways, it seems Lorelai has managed to emulate the harrowing realism of its predecessor, while similarly employing abstract imagery to establish and amplify the palpable emotional tone. The expression of this profound pathos and visual symbolism was augmented through variation in both the color palette between settings and the intensity or saturation of certain hues, particularly red. More specifically, I appreciated the implementation of softer, warmer tones to embellish the wistful filter overlaying Lorelai’s joyous memories with her father, which contrasted the harsher colors and shadows denoting her stark reality. Additionally, it was devastating to see Miranda’s death even though it had been unfortunately rather likely, considering that, when someone’s thoughts are as despairing and volatile as hers were, it’s exceptionally dangerous to be left alone with them.

Beyond the seemingly implied, deeper connection between The Queen of Maggots and Lorelei, I wonder if the Queen selected Lorelei in particular as the executor of her will as a result of Lorelei’s tenacity and her embodiment of a true “survivor”. In a sense, an individual with an indomitable spirit, who essentially represents the refusal to capitulate even amidst confrontation with the vilest of circumstances, would harbor the insatiable desire to protract their life and quell any lingering regrets, thereby rendering them susceptible to the tantalizing bargain offered by the Queen. Lorelei cannot expunge the compulsion to protect her sister from the maleficent hands of John and finally secure freedom for them both, and, consequently, she acquiesces to the Queen, just as the demonic woman likely anticipated she would.

Concerning the characterization of Lorelei and Zack, I personally found them to be just a bit too calm when conversing in Zack’s apartment in consideration of the traumatic, ineffably disturbing situations they recently endured and witnessed. Perhaps their somewhat relaxed and even flirtatious attitudes at this particular moment could be attributable to difficulties in processing the reality of what transpired, as well as the immediate need for the distraction and comfort of each other’s company and congenial, flippant conversation. Regardless, I still would have preferred some additional development for these characters during their quiet scene together, particularly through the presentation of their respective emotional responses to the profound stimuli of facing death and irredeemable wickedness. Further intimate moments between the two could have sufficed to augment the audience’s personal connection and understanding of these characters and the true depth of their personalities.

In a way, the chapter with Al was rather reflective of the anxiety mini-game from The Cat Lady, which externalized the precarious balance of Susan’s mental stability by demonstrating the pronounced repercussions incurred from her cumulative experiences of various stressors. For Al’s circumstance, it seems that the nature of Lorelai’s sudden influence over him serves as the sole determinant of the fragility of his resolve and represents the dangerous tenuity of the line existing between redemption and regression. Essentially, Lorelai was imbued with the ability to either inspire Al to surmount his depressive state and become a survivor like her, or, shatter his attempts at remediation and force him to submit to his pernicious tendencies, just as her stepfather and mother did. Though Lorelai is supernaturally capable in this situation and can affect both Al’s surroundings and his mind, I consider some of her whispered sentiments to be rather emulative of intrusive thoughts that, in their injuriousness and pessimistic cruelty, oft hinder the path towards sustained progress. 

In addition to their literal meaning as a method of transportation and escape, trains have also been rather metaphorical in this game, seemingly representing a more symbolic journey or liberation from the debilitating circumstances and mentalities that have entrapped both Al and Lorelai. Lorelai is impeded in the forward momentum of her life by her corrosive home environment, and, as potentially implied through the imagery of a train battering through her apartment building as it speeds along, she is a survivor who fights for her future, regardless of what she must do or destroy to progress. Conversely, it seems in Al’s negative route that he himself was an obstacle in the track towards betterment and, in his inability to move forward, he was left behind, his journey coming to an abrupt end.

In consideration of the dialogue and visual representation of the Queen, it seems certain interpretations of The Queen of Maggots and her symbolic significance can be discerned. Essentially, imagery appertaining to mirrors or facing one’s reflection, prevalent in the final confrontation between the two Lorelais, appears to infer that the Queen herself is a physical manifestation of the darker, pernicious, yet oft concealed inclinations that all of humanity experiences to variable degrees. In a sense, the Queen and her machinations are also rather representative of the external or environmental stressors which trigger the emergence and outward expression of these negative attributes. In the context of the game’s universe, the “thorns” of the Queen’s corruptive influence ensnare the frail, suggestible minds of her victims, translate their desperation into capitulation, and, eventually, induce dire, grim consequences. These ramifications often involve considerable anguish for the individuals trapped in the vicinity of someone else’s destruction, thus, the cycle of trauma, mental devolution, and death exists in perpetuity, thereby fulfilling the monstrous Queen’s insatiable need to consume, like a true maggot, the corpses of the pained, lost, or damned. Lorelai can perhaps be interpreted as a symbol for the transcendence of these tribulations, as it appears she ultimately overcomes both her stepfather and the Queen herself regardless of the route, though the lingering grasp of the Queen and the regression she represents restrains Lorelai and somewhat limits the extent of her personal progression in the “bad” endings.

With respect to the overall impression Lorelai imparted upon me, I suppose I feel rather ambivalent, as certain scenes and elements were beautifully portrayed while others seemed to be a bit lacking in substance and depth. There are indubitably positive attributes to be enumerated, particularly the depiction of alcoholism and the generally inspiring message underlying the narrative and its culmination. It’s certainly quite appreciated and somewhat aberrant for a game to conclude with an accurate presentation of the mundanities and natural oscillations of highs and lows which define the course of an average life. As explored thematically throughout the extent of this game, grief, devastation, and turbulence are immutable inevitabilities of human experience that necessitate solidity of the will and persistence to healthily overcome. Though the path towards self-betterment, redemption, and contentment is sinuous and occasionally regressive, the cumbrous journey is undoubtedly worth the tribulations and set-backs we endure along the way.

 As I’ve already expatiated on my interpretation of Lorelai’s purpose as a representation of resilience and pertinacity in spite of horrific circumstances, I’ll instead delve into a few of the aspects and sections of the game that I consider to be a tad weak. I mentioned earlier on that certain conversations seemed somewhat out of place and irreverent in contrast to the depravity and disillusionment the characters had recently experienced. The tonal shift was quite rapid, and, consequently, these individuals were deprived of the opportunity to emotionally respond or effectively contend with the actualities and implications of their harrowing situations. Overall, it seemed there was some misappropriation of time and focus throughout the game, as certain characters such as Maria, Zoe, and the other nursing home residents were granted comparatively considerable portions of the narrative despite, ultimately, having little significance to the overarching plot or Lorelai’s personal development. In general, ancillary characters and sections are beneficially employed to showcase facets of the protagonist’s personality and facilitate their growth, or, further the conveyance and clarity of the main theme. Outside of Al, Chapter 2’s characters were essentially forgotten about and devoid of greater purpose and detailed exploration, retrospectively rendering this chapter slightly hollow and empty. I was anticipating the replication of Lorelai’s experiences with Al in future chapters where these discarded side characters would be more effectively anatomized.

Concerning Zack and Lorelai, I still somewhat maintain my aforementioned perspective on the extent of the development and depth provided for them individually and as a couple. To me, it seemed their interactions were a tad flat and shallow with respect to the subject matter discussed and the depicted intimacy of their personal, emotional connection. Zack, himself, appears to have no demonstrable or notable personality arc beyond the rather commonplace, archetypal neighbor who finally acquires the ability to articulate his love when faced with the prospect of imminent death.

I’m a bit more equivocal when analyzing Lorelai herself and, by extension, the overarching structure and flow of the narrative itself. I suppose the greatest issue I encountered when recollecting the events of the game is the limited internal elasticity and growth that Lorelai seems to experience between the beginning and end of her journey. Though her circumstances and surrounding environment are improved substantially, her inner personality, beliefs, inclinations, and desires remain rather immutable and unchallenged by her experiences with the Queen. Regardless of your choices in actions and dialogue, Lorelai is generally the same person and an uncompromising “survivor” in the end, varying only in the amount of regrets and lingering difficulties she faces. However, Lorelai can potentially express wildly variable opinions throughout her time in the afterlife on the basis of your direction, for instance, she can harbor little sympathy for the frustrated mother in the AA group and the alcoholic Al, resolutely deciding that his life is irredeemable and should be sacrificed for the sake of her own desires. Alternatively, she can help him and defy the Queen, though the significance of this choice is rather undermined considering Lorelai suffers no evident consequences from her insubordination. I suppose I would have preferred greater divergence in the endings to reflect the pronounced dissimilarity in her perspectives and submission to the Queen’s will. Even in the positive, “golden” route, I believe Lorelai’s characterization and progression would have been a bit more realistic and dimensional had she initially lacked empathy and compassion for others who cannot as easily combat or surmount their debilitating situations. Lorelai’s unwavering strength and tenacity are not ubiquitous traits, and it would have been interesting to explore her process of recognizing and accepting the innate heterogeneity of human resolve and mental stability. Perhaps she could have accomplished this through her experiences delving into the specific circumstances of her assigned “parasites” and witnessing the true fragility of the boundary between recovery and capitulation. Conversely, the negative route would demonstrate the ramifications of austerity and the unwillingness to understand or forgive the flaws and injurious behaviors of others, instead electing to acrimoniously judge and consequently punish the people she gains influence over.

In general, the quiet moments and honest discussions on the intricacies of depression in The Cat Lady were more resonant with me personally than the situations that Lorelai is subjected to. That being said, the conveyance of the harrowing events of this game and their emotional undertones was, for the most part, beautifully accomplished. Additionally, the lingering possibility of redemption or progression for these characters certainly contributed much appreciated instances of warmth and hope to an otherwise rather dismal, grave story.

-Developed by: Harvester Games

The Doll Shop

A wintery atmosphere has always served as a beautiful and tonally harmonious setting for a tale of mystery and isolation. There is certainly an almost romantic serenity in the stillness of the snow, often intermingled with chords of a slightly melancholic and haunting character.

This story of a man and his doll creations residing in a somewhat desolate and vaguely disquieting village seems to use the insinuations of a winter environment to great effect. I appreciate the pacing of this short story and I believe that it successfully demonstrates how effective narratives, especially in the psychological horror genre, need not always rely upon momentous twists to culminate them. Rather, it beautifully establishes a tenor of unease beneath that snowy veil of placidity, while minor details and hints, like falling snow, slowly accumulate. Plots of this character afford continual speculation and reformulation of theories as new information is presented, and though some impression of the ending can be predicted, its exact nature remains obfuscated until the final moments.

I’ve always found the image of a pinned butterfly to be a striking example of a visual contradiction—a living creature symbolically representing the transience of beauty, change, or a metamorphosis is now frozen in time, motionless and preserved. To me, this game wonderfully portrays an obsession with distorting this metaphorical quality of a butterfly while simultaneously having the protagonist also corrupt living, aging people into something unnatural and perverse. Excellent job on the part of the developers overall.

Developed by: Atelier Sentô

Mad Father Updated Version

Background: Retained from its original release, the Mad Father remake sees the player helming the journey of a naïve protagonist, Aya, as she navigates the sullen, capacious halls of her mansion and avoids the many phantasmagoric cadavers that have suddenly reanimated for the purpose of exacting retribution on her eponymous mad father. As a rather stereotypically volatile scientist, Aya’s father mutilates and performs grotesque experiments, assisted by his lover, Maria, on his unwilling subjects with the intention of creating living dolls born from the chimerical combination of severed parts. Aya eventually discovers that her father’s ultimate desire through the perfection of his dolls is to craft a pristine replication of her that will permanently remain beautiful, ageless, and unaffected by the renascent sadistic tendencies that Aya has begun to demonstrate.

***

The doctor’s methods for acquiring his innumerable victims whilst avoiding detection were never explicitly detailed in the original game, if I’m recalling correctly, though it was undoubtedly implied that Maria’s situation was not aberrant and, instead, represented the established precedent for the doctor’s predatory behaviors. The expanded flashback depicting his abduction of an impoverished, abandoned child is therefore confirmatory of his patterned, manipulative tactics designed to lure the most desperate, vulnerable people to his lab with the persuasive promises of a home and family. The legitimacy of his care and veneer of geniality is a bit ambiguous, as his warped mind appears capable of rationalizing acts of both profound gentleness and brutal violence against even those he professes to love most. Regardless, it seems his abuse of the homeless is essentially facilitated through society’s indifference and enmity towards the poor, which allows their disappearances to likely be not only ignored, but welcomed. I suppose it can therefore be said that the addition of this rather evocative flashback sequence further humanized the unfortunate subjects of the doctor’s sanguinary obsessions and embellished the true extent of his fractured, discordant personality. 

Though the alterations and additions made to this “pseudo-remake” of sorts were rather minor and predominantly cosmetic, the few instances of slight dialogue reconstruction and inserted scenes evinced a general sense of improvement to the structure and execution of this simplistic, yet enjoyable, adventure. As I alluded to earlier, the sequence involving the manipulation of the solitary child was probably intended to elicit further empathy for the forcibly sequestered test subjects and somewhat encourage the player to view these victims as more than mere gameplay quests or impediments requiring circumvention in order to progress the story. Granted, Mad Father is comparatively less complex and intricate with respect to its overall writing and themes, but these notable attempts at augmenting the emotional depth and investment in the plot and its characters are arguably indicative of Sen’s dedication to the embellishment their earlier works. When the true expanded remake releases, I hope that Sen proceeds with the further inclusion or revision of extant narrative elements while managing to maintain tonal consistency with the campy horror atmosphere, as well as avoiding interruptions to the momentum of the pace due to reliance on excessive exposition or overwhelming backstory and lore.

To somewhat cursorily comment on my interpretation of the intriguing facets and parallels between the Mad Father and Aya, I suppose I could start by discussing the ability of an individual to rationalize the simultaneous demonstration of contradictory behaviors and beliefs. For instance, both the father and Aya (assuming she adopts her father’s legacy) can partake in actions of magnanimity and sympathy towards the poor, beyond what is necessary for their "scientific" purposes, while concurrently persisting in their torturous deeds against these very same people. Essentially, it seems this duo views their discordant intentions through the distorted lens of their own warped logic, which perhaps justifies the continual satiation of their sadistic tendencies by presuming the righteousness of the deaths they caused. The father appears obsessed with ensuring the perpetuity of his bond or togetherness with his beloved family, as well as the preservation of the untarnished beauty and moral purity of his victims. He could convince himself that transferring the corporal parts of these discarded, unloved, or, in Aya’s case, corrupted individuals into perfect dolls is preferable to allowing them to rot in the dregs or periphery of a society that would much rather have them gone. Though he is clearly volatile and thoroughly enamored with the gory brutality involved in killing people, there are potentially still shreds of legitimacy to his claims of forming an ideal, loving “family”, in quite the perverse, twisted sense.

Concerning Aya, it’s possible in the true ending that she accepts her lineal destiny just as Dr. Frederick Frankenstein did in Young Frankenstein after reading his grandfather’s “How I Did It” guide to human experimentation. Perhaps her sympathy for the impoverished, in conjunction with her remembrance of the suffering her father’s sanguinary methods incurred, manifests in her implementation of sedatives to more gently “save” her victims from their dismal social situations or the potentially slow, painful, and inevitable decline of their health. Of course, other interpretations are certainly viable.

-Developed by: Sen

Menherafflesia

Background: Menherafflesia is choice-based visual novel by developer Charon that both implements and subverts numerous tropes associated with the anime archetype known as “Yandere”, in which a character displays an exaggerated and often humorous obsession with the subject of their affections that frequently results in gratuitous violence when these feelings are unreciprocated. The protagonist, Itarou, is an unsociable individual desirous of establishing intimate connections with women to quell his irrepressible loneliness. He encounters a patch of blooming flowers that each represent a separate woman and story arc to pursue, whereby a version of Itarou then develops his nascent relationship with the selected partner, culminating in a single, paramount choice. Each woman’s associated route bifurcates upon this final decision into two distinctive endings, the “bad” end and the “true” end, which demonstrate considerable variance with respect to tone, adherence to anime stereotypes, and overall quality of writing.

***

-Anemone

With respect to Anemone’s route, the rapidity of the overall pace and the somewhat prosaic nature of the writing were not quite conducive to establishing emotional investment in the supposedly profound, loving relationship between the characters or, by consequence, their eventual demise. However, in comparison to the melancholic gravity of Vanilla Garden of Judgement’s subject matter and themes, the arguably lighter tone underlying this experience was better suited and consistent with the overly dramatic conclusions these stories predictably employ.

If I were to attempt to derive some deeper meaning from the depicted imagery and inferences in the text, I suppose it’s possible to perceive a potential discussion on the impurity or “distortion” of love, which appears to occur rather commonly in Charon’s stories. Essentially, the love experienced by these particular characters seems to be a shallow veneer, an infatuation born from necessity instead of a more evident connection or compatibility. Both individuals, who are presumably rather young and impetuous, suffer the encumbrance of desperation and loneliness as well as the deprivation of company or, in Anemone’s case, the loving family structure she once enjoyed. Obsessive and oft destructive relationships can be precipitated from these circumstances, which perhaps could be demonstrated through Anemone’s maliciously protective tendencies and the sanguinary events of her good ending. Additionally, the transmogrification of her love for Itarou into a love of murdering also apparently evidences the hollowness and alterable nature of her prior devotion to him. In general, the innate “irrationality”, insidiousness, and corruption of Charon’s worlds renders them seemingly incompatible with experiences of true, reciprocal, and salubrious love.

-Ivy

It certainly appears that Itarou, in the particular incarnation of him shown during Ivy’s route, harbors a bit of an exaggerated Madonna—Whore complex which consequentially influences his perception and treatment of women. Through the lens of his distorted, disturbed mentality, women are classified in dichotomous terms representing either angelic purity or dirty, blemished corruption, with such designations contingent upon the gradation of his sexual attraction towards the particular woman. For instance, a beautiful, fetishized woman like Kurara can demonstrate certain interests or behaviors, such as a fascination with anime and video games, which are beloved and praised in her, while hypocritically, the same traits presented in a comparatively less attractive woman are regarded derisively. Concerning Ivy and the internal tribulations and destructive thoughts that burden her tempestuous mind, it seems her natural tendency is to escape from the mundanity of her existence and hostile self-perception through the fabrication of a perfect, fantastical persona. Questions of her true self and identity plague her beleaguered mind as she contends with the blissful delusions which have begun to permeate and alter her reality. Her understanding of Itarou is essentially a manifestation of her warped, dangerous propensities, as she projects an ideal characterization onto him, despite its evident falsity, while simultaneously justifying or trivializing his reprehensible, abusive behaviors towards her. The conclusions of her route appear, in my particular interpretation, to represent her broken mind suddenly succumbing to an amplification of her delusional tendencies, instigated by the profound emotional stimuli of Itarou’s acceptance or denial of her fantasies. It seems she kills Itarou in both endings to solidify their relationship through “poetic” means, and in the good route she potentially lives with his corpse after having lost the ability to discern reality and accept his death. Regardless, Ivy’s story was undoubtedly rather interesting to say the least.

There is also viability in interpreting Ivy as a woman with magical capabilities, as Charon’s endings have occasionally felt a bit disjointed and jarring with respect to the tone and nature of the writing which precedes them. Since Charon seems to often include psychological angles to their work, and because of my personal preferences in the sorts of stories and themes I enjoy, I tried to create a somewhat cohesive theory for the events of Ivy’s route on the assumption of a more grounded narrative devoid of supernatural elements. I could be entirely incorrect, though, and Charon’s worlds may simply be a tad bizarre and illogical by nature, defying concerted attempts to provide a definitive, comprehensive explanation.

-Jasmine

Despite how disturbing and painful it was to endure, I consider it rather fitting that Jasmine, whose mind is wracked with the agony of depression and self-hatred, directed her violent tendencies inwardly and blamed herself for invoking Itarou’s disdain, instead of brutally punishing the target of her affections. Concerning the fragility of Jasmine’s mental state, it seems she had been precariously situated on a precipitous ledge overlooking the dark, inescapable abyss of utter despair and death, never able to solidify the resolve to take the final step on her own. Jasmine’s last monologue, in its honest simplicity, was devastatingly accurate, at least from the standpoint of my personal experiences, as a portrayal of an individual struggling to contend with the actualities of depression and concealing her torment by donning a plastered mask of cheerfulness. As someone with a rather dry sense of humor, I’ve always adored eliciting irrepressible fits of laughter in others and, even amongst the bleakest of depressive episodes, I would never waver in this desire or ability. I suppose I understood the significance of creating a few moments of levity as a temporary reprieve from stress or sadness, like a meek flame lurid in unrelenting gloom, and all I sought was to bring others the happiness and support that I desperately craved. It’s quite difficult while mired in that mentality to admit the need for help and seek actual means of remediation, and, though a bit unreasonable, there exists the constant, underlying hope and longing for someone to finally peer through the hollow shell of joviality and notice the true self slowly withering away inside.

In accordance with this interpretation of Jasmine’s behaviors, it appears she was stifled by hidden apathy and stagnated in her current state while lacking the internal compulsion to impel her to either pursue betterment or succumb to her latent suicidal considerations. Through her profound trust and love of Itarou, she relinquishes control over her conflicted situation and relies on him to be the sole determinant of her fate. His rejection proves confirmatory to her feelings of worthlessness and loneliness, and consequently acts as the necessary stimulus to finally cement her conviction to commit suicide. Alternatively, the affirmation of his devotion allows her to convey her intentions and implore Itarou to assent to ending her life. Itarou’s initial, alacritous compliance is a tad interesting, considering Jasmine’s perception of love is immensely warped, and the supposed derivation of happiness from being “broken” by the one you love seems terribly antithetical to what a supportive, healthy relationship should entail. Apparently, Itarou’s refusal to offer her the option to get help and his choice to kill her instead were attributable to a momentary bout of madness which, though arguably a bit of a contrivance, is somewhat explicable as all iterations of Itarou seem to have evident personality flaws and misconceptions concerning the salubrious pursuit and expression of love. Overall, this route was certainly rather poignant and comparatively grounded.

-Mihomi

Despite the rather pronounced incongruity in tone and characterization across Mihomi’s endings, ranging from the adoption of a deranged persona to a quite touching, poignant final moment between close friends, her underlying personality and motivations were arguably explicable and decently established. Essentially, the puerility and impetuousness of her youth translates into an inability to properly or salubriously contend with the agonizing trauma of her circumstance. Consequently, she desperately clings to Itarou, developing a pernicious dependence and possessiveness towards him, and perceives of him as her sole source of safety, happiness, and escape from the torturous reminder of her home life. In the bad ending, Itarou’s supposedly “insensitive” or callous dismissal of her pain elicited a realization of her abject loneliness and grief, which proved too prodigious a burden and shattered her fracturing façade of cheerfulness and innocence. Itarou’s actions were incendiary to her, and, in a sense, the burning of his home could be interpreted as a symbolic destruction of the one remaining place where she felt secure and loved, which she suddenly felt deprived of as well. With respect to additional imagery, the hydrangea, as a flower “well suited to the rain”, was beautifully represented in the melancholic downpour of rain which, almost poetically, characterized the dismal conditions surrounding the beginning and end of Mihomi and Itarou’s time together.

Though personality-wise I do prefer either Daffodil or Anemone, the added emotional depth and perspicuous rationale to Hydrangea’s story were certainly rather effective and appreciated.

-Ayume

I suppose at the very least there’s some consistency with respect to Ayume’s characterization and her malicious proclivities, which somewhat unifies her two, quite histrionic endings. What is rather fascinating to me about Charon’s work is that, through the dramatic absurdity and oft grotesque, sanguinary atmospheres, some rather genuinely erudite sentiments and reflections often precipitate. Concerning this particular route, it’s certainly possible to perceive discussions pertaining to the concept of mediocrity and the ardent pursuit of distinction and purpose. Ayume and Itarou harbor somewhat parallel mentalities in this respect, as they both fixate on the protracted monotony of an ordinary existence and feel that true self-satisfaction and worth are inexorably elusive without the acquisition of some definitive, external means of gratification. For instance, Itarou is evidently depressed and stagnated by the repetitious regularity of his life, and in his susceptible state of desperation, he foolishly conflates his love for a wise, kind TV character with the actual personality of the actress who portrays her. He assumes that his persistent efforts to secure her attention and interest will somehow alleviate his sorrow and grant him the “specialness” he craves. Ayume’s intentions are a bit more… gory, and she elects to deviate from delineated path of an average life through the realization of her true talent and passionate “hobby”—murder. Mentions of “conceit” during this route are also a tad interesting, as the desire to transcend the common trajectory of life and follow a path towards happiness and fulfillment of your own designation are foundationally laudable aspirations, yet, can become corrupted and dangerous when taken to extremes by a tumultuous, unstable mind such as Ayume’s. Additionally, the topic of one's purpose is innately rather nebulous and complex, as, while having goals is oft beneficial, the conviction that satisfaction can only be derived from the attainment of some single, irrational, quixotic accomplishment or status can potentially render true contentment in life an impossibility. Itarou, in his pining for the person he assumes Ayume to be, is essentially a victim of this mentality.

The “good” ending was a bit oblique when addressing the specific events which predicated Ayume’s… peculiar interactions with Itarou, and it seems a few disparate interpretations are possible. It remains unknown whether she successfully encountered the murderer of her family but persisted in her violent behaviors due to an emergent talent in killing, or if she stalks the same bar with the resolution of eventually obtaining vengeance while preying on random, "sinful" men like Itarou who are enticed by both her beauty and certain misconceptions about her personality. I do wonder if her selection of Itarou in particular and her chastisement of his childish naivety and worthlessness in the “bad” ending are perhaps attributable to survivor’s guilt and the desire to punish her child-self for neglecting to come home on time and, consequently, avoiding the same fate as her family. I can’t be certain, however. Nonetheless, Ayume surely had potential as a character, and it was rather unfortunate, of course, how her route inevitably culminated.

-Conclusion

It seems that each woman deserved more time dedicated towards their development, considering the rather archetypal outlines their characterizations adhere to and the vague, tenuously established backstories and mentalities which are arguably a bit insufficient to illuminate the inscrutable motivations for their bizarre, murderous actions. I’ve certainly tried to flesh out the somewhat skeletal constructs of their individual identities and unify the given pieces of information into an overarching understanding of who these women truly are. I can’t say if I’ve succeeded in doing so at all, as it’s possible that I projected too many of my own assumptions and interpretations onto these stories, which perhaps deviate from what Charon actually intended.

The pronounced lack of homogeneity in the tone and realism employed throughout the experience creates an “emotional rollercoaster” which consequently renders these narratives a bit difficult to comprehensively evaluate. The slower moments of character development which served to augment your understanding of the personalities and perspectives that defined and motivated these individuals were often rather simple, yet occasionally striking in the depth and erudition of the sentiments expressed and discussed. Additionally, these instances of profundity were often effective in subverting expectations, as the sudden reveal of greater complexities and facets to these women succeeded in elevating their characterizations beyond the anticipated archetypal roles. Jasmine’s route in particular was demonstrative of this, and, following her endings, the internal rationale and compulsion for her startling behaviors were retrospectively embellished and explicated. Alternatively, certain segments adhered more rigidly to the categorical yandere tropes and the predictable proclivity of Charon to culminate plots with sanguinary events. These gory occurrences are seemingly contrivances for the sake of entertainment that are rather tenuously explained, built-up, and congruent with previously established personality traits and inclinations. Separately, I enjoy stories entrenched in poignant, intricately detailed psychological elements as well as farcical tales with exaggerated stereotypes, however, the amalgamation of these two disparate focuses will necessitate assiduous care on the part of the writer in order to create a cohesive narrative with a consistent, palatable tone. Otherwise, the grounded, emotional scenes contrast jarringly with the shockingly fantastical, illogical, and inexplicably brutal moments, and the experience in its entirety feels quite disjointed and capricious. Obtaining an effective, precise balance of features, characters, and plotlines of variable gravity, realism, and tone is truly a tad difficult to achieve, though certainly far from impossible.

Since I had been noting and expounding upon some of the themes that I considered to be interwoven into the narrative thread of each woman’s route, I suppose I should finish my analysis with a similar discussion of the sort. With respect to the ending, it’s possible to interpret the meaning as expressing the likelihood that cultivation in such an innately “irrational” society results in the absorption or internalization of its corruption or “rotten” attributes, thereby contributing in perpetuity to the establishment of this world as a fecund ground for breeding “sin” and sorrow. I can’t be definitively sure, however, the text appears to imply that transcendence from this cycle and the attainment of internal strength and contentment are impossible, at least for these women. To extrapolate a bit from this theme, it seems as though, due to the dating sim structure of the visual novel, that the concept of inevitable pain and grief is specifically explored through the conduit of romantic relationships. Consequently, most characters, including Itarou himself, demonstrate a rather naïve, flawed conceptualization of love, based on the injurious assumption that romance is the sole determinant of happiness and success, or the only means through which they may obtain salvation from their current torturous situations. As I described earlier on, this exaggerated desperation translates into misguided obsession and amplifies the torment of rejection, culminating in many of the various destructive, violent endings. I suppose the message that could feasibly be distilled from this thread of commonality between routes is that amelioration of one’s dismal circumstances and the pursuit of self-betterment are not immutably linked nor necessarily contingent upon relationship status, and extreme dependence on a single person, especially someone you don’t know very well, might not be such a fantastic idea.

Overall, I’m thoroughly entertained by Charon’s works despite their occasional narrative faults.

-Developed by: Charon

Darq

Given the somewhat recent collection of horror-adventure games that arguably demonstrate rather notable stylistic and mechanical similarities, creating a distinguishable experience of this sort necessitates the incorporation of profoundly innovative and uniquely executed elements. Even from the short introduction alone, it seems that certain aspects and design decisions prove immediately compelling and distinctive. Specifically, the presentation of the various environments is extremely polished, and there are numerous minor details which contribute to the overall immersion into this warping dreamscape and allow for more fluid transitions between one area or perspective to the next. For example, the initial emergence of each location is exceptionally smooth, with the protagonist’s bedroom slowly melting away and giving rise to the intricate construction of their new surroundings, such as during Chapter 2 where the buildings and streetlights elongate and fold up from the ground like a turned page of a pop-up book. Additionally, also within Chapter 2, the ninety-degree rotation of the bottom plane elicits slight movement and wavering in these streetlights, garbage cans, and other environmental embellishments, which consequently makes the detailed world of this child’s dream appear truly artificial, ephemeral, and susceptible to the dreamer’s whims.

Though the gameplay mechanics do seem a bit disorienting, the labyrinthine settings of each chapter are mercifully confined in their scope, resultantly limiting the potential for confusion by purposefully constraining the expansiveness and complexity of the individual puzzle areas. I also appreciate how the gameplay sections are seamlessly integrated into the aesthetic of their surroundings, making these parts feel less like contrived moments of forced player action and more like natural impediments that arise organically during the desultory exploration of this strange realm of dreams.

With respect to the overall visual style and evident dedication to meticulous environmental detailing, I suppose it can be stated that the entirety of the game demonstrated this same, impressive level of attention to the construction, lighting, decoration, and fluid integration of puzzles into its various traversable settings. Additionally, the gameplay segments and mechanics were well implemented and paced to avoid becoming frustrating in their scale or overly confusing from their frequent shifts in orientation and perspective. However, despite this gameplay structure being rather aptly suited for a short, limited experience, it did seem as though the latter chapters could have afforded a gradual increase in difficulty or more innovative combinations and employment of its existing mechanics in order to abate any possible sense of staleness in the general concept and slowly build some additional intensity approaching the ending.

Concerning potential interpretations of the story, I do think the creation of a single, comprehensive theory might be rather untenable, as we simply can’t be assured that every set-piece, enemy, location, or general design decision was purposeful to directly represent some constituent element of the overarching narrative and its themes. After all, the foundational establishment of the dream-like or surreal, preternatural setting of this game affords the unconstrained exploration of creativity and the presentation of fantastical imagery without necessarily requiring explanation or significance.

However, if I were to speculate and apply my own personal perspective to this story, I would definitely propose the idea that this child’s journey is transpiring in the realm between death and rebirth, with certain visual elements being representational of the life they once lived and are fighting desperately to leave behind before they can finally move on. For example, the chapter featuring the stage and the masked figures, who attack the child if they aren’t currently donning a similar mask, could possibly be reflective of the common anxieties percolating through the insecure, young mind, specifically, the fear of public perception and rejection, and the subsequent pressure to conform to these expectations. The sudden rushing of trains, numerous electricity puzzles, severed limbs, and hospital area could potentially imply that the child met their end through electrocution on train tracks, which led to the crushing or severance of their arms and legs as oncoming trains mercilessly flew by.

On a more symbolic level, the train imagery could be metaphorical for the spiritual journey of the child, representing the transference of their state from the quagmire and darkness of death to the light and hope of rebirth. The child revisits and passes through visions of their past life, clambering ardently towards the “white light” of their final destination and eventually succeeding after quite literally crossing a bridge to the other side. The various enemies, blinded, gaunt, groping wildly and erratically through the deeply cast shadows of their surroundings, would therefore be symbolic for either the trapped, depressive memories refusing to be left behind, or, the lost, unguided souls who cannot attain the same transcendence as our protagonist. The final shot depicting the main child escaping, bathed in the refulgent white light streaming from the open door, while a silhouetted child looks on from a distance would, in accordance with these aforementioned interpretations, represent either the culling of past traumas necessary in order to begin anew, or, an unfortunate child who has also attempted to escape the pitiful mire of this realm, yet, despite always preceding the protagonist on their journey, cannot manage to take that last step towards rebirth.

Needless to say, numerous interpretations can potentially be substantiated concerning the precise narrative of this short experience, though it seems the true value and depth is perhaps dictated entirely by the willingness of the player to delve into and analyze the beautiful visuals and aesthetic choices found throughout the game. I do hope this creator persists in honing their skills, as I would certainly love to follow the continuation of their impressive work.

-Developed by: Unfold Games

The Missing: J.J. Macfield and the Island of Mysteries

Background: College student J.J. traipses across ethereal landscapes while surmounting various platforming puzzles that each incorporate the central mechanic of inducing J.J.’s corporal dismemberment and using her limbs in a variety of almost morbidly humorous ways. As J.J. follows in pursuit of her elusive friend, Emily, the intricacies of her beleaguered mentality and personal relationships are gradually revealed through the occasional exchange of text messages, which, in summary, detail J.J.’s struggle to affirm her identity and future. Straining beneath the cumbrous pressure of her rigidly traditional mother, who discovers and condemns her emergent gender expression, J.J. attempts to commit suicide. The main adventure therefore transpires within the constructed esoteric realm of J.J.’s dreams as she confronts physical and emotional obstacles on her elucidating path towards the “awakening” of her self-actualization.

***

This was a beautiful and emotionally poignant journey conveyed in a unique and fascinating way. I can’t personally speak to the accuracy of J.J.’s tribulations, but I would imagine the presentation of her despondency, desperation, and the acerbic brutality of her mother’s words will be immensely resonant with people who have endured similar difficulties accepting who they are, especially when others will not. Representation is of exceptional importance, and, at least from my perspective, it was depicted here with tact, understanding, honesty, and sympathy. There is a vast and immeasurable diversity to human experience, and all stories deserve to be properly told.

As for the other elements of this game, I appreciated how the cycles of destruction and reconstitution of J.J.’s body seemingly emulated her internal struggles with feeling broken and unsure in her own skin. The text conversations augmented the sense of J.J.’s personality and the pain which predicated her actions. I do wish that, perhaps, some of the set-pieces included additional instances of visual storytelling that further reflected her mentality and experiences, as most of the narrative appeared to be relegated to text dialogues which necessitated interruption of the gameplay flow to read. I think the story might be more compelling throughout its entirety if it were better paced, and the profound interiority of J.J.’s journey to self-acceptance was externalized and demonstrated symbolically in the environments she traverses.

-Developed by: Hidetaka Suerhiro’s White Owls

Hypnospace Outlaw

Background: Software and rudimentary internet services of the mid-nineties are monopolized by the unscrupulous company, Merchantsoft, who hires the player character as one of its “enforcers” to parse a variety of individual sites and blogs for contraventions against its enumerated regulations.

***

The immensity of content and intricate details to sift through in this game was truly laudable and much appreciated. It seems the developers crafted their emulation of the 90’s internet from quite a reverential standpoint, and consequently, the overall design and aesthetics were wonderfully nostalgic and enjoyable to view as an accurate replication of the past. As mentioned, the breadth of personalized pages and unique characters created a rather explorative experience ancillary to the underlying plot and mystery of the game.

Concerning the primary narrative thread, I found it a bit interesting how assiduously the enforcers are intended to police the content on the internet for infractions that range from harassment to comparatively innocuous copyright infringements. Despite the arguable necessity of such scrutiny in enforcement, the attention given to Merchantsoft’s own internal activities was, conversely, quite scant and dangerously insufficient. It was only after internet users revealed the suppressed, incriminating medical studies that Merchantsoft was eventually felled. Essentially, the company demanding strict compliance from its users was willfully, and ironically, incapable of ensuring its own behaviors were in accordance with safety regulations. In a sense, it’s a bit of a “who watches the watchmen” type of situation. I suppose it’s also possible to perceive a sort of theme discussing the inequities in the policing and enforcement of rules and stipulations, whereby scrutiny is levied independently of the potential danger or severity of the consequences of circumvention.

Lovely game, and a tad somber, as well.

-Developed by: Tendershoot, ThatWhichIs Media, Michael Lasch

Paranoiac Remake

Though the gameplay mechanics and general story arc of the original game were a bit simplistic from what I remember, the quiet moments of striking honesty and humanity, depicting the brutality of emotional abuse and the potentially debilitating influence of mental illness, still managed to be rather heavy and effectively somber. Considering the somewhat stereotypical setting and plotline of a new tenant running erratically through a haunted, abandoned house in avoidance of the apparition of the previous owner, these interwoven psychological elements and grounded conversations helped to elevate and bring additional facets to this common premise. However, though I might be mistaken, I believe the jumpscares were slightly more effective, pronounced, and frightening in the original game, taking better advantage of the instances of tension which preceded them.

I appreciate that this remake has elected to incorporate some variation in its settings and provide greater logical underpinnings to the narrative overall. For instance, Miki’s initial attempts to leave the house or contact the police effectively eliminated certain alternatives and possibilities that she never even thought to try during the original game, as far as I recall. In addition to this more reasonable, gradual progression of her fear and desperation, the realities of her illness are more evident in this particular version of the story, and the exploration of Miki’s frustration at her mental fog and torpor, which are commonly concomitant with depression, was fairly accurate from my experience. Additionally, the successive removal of her potential options for escape essentially renders her entrapment and isolation far more oppressive and irrevocable, and, therefore, her lingering regrets and trauma can more frequently manifest and aggressively haunt her beleaguered mind.

In general, it appears that the supplemental dialogue and scenes have somewhat bolstered the complexity of the characterizations and created a more natural, logical flow of the events constituting the main plot arc.

As another specific example, I recall there being some vagueness in the original surrounding Miki’s inability to remember her aunt and the experiences they shared, and though it may have been possible to speculate as to the rationale for this haze, which suddenly dissipated during their final confrontation, no explicit or additional information was provided as to its source. This momentous instance of clarity after encountering the embroidered bear was better predicated in the remake, as Miki is shown to be struggling with these lapses in her memory and the general obfuscation of all remembrances of her aunt dissociated from her suicide. In a psychological sense, it’s possible that the traumatic sight of her aunt and the consequential guilt were so deeply rutted into her fragile mind that forgetfulness became somewhat of a protective mechanism to dilute the vividness of that final, unbearable image of her beloved aunt. The lucidity she regains at the end subjects her to the overwhelming grief and regret she attempted to suppress, yet, the positive memories also return, and the honest admission of her self-imposed blame represents the first step towards properly addressing her mental tribulations.

Overall, these foundational scenes introduced intermittently throughout the game reveal further insight into Miki’s personality and difficulties as well as restructure the narrative framework to provide more logical set-ups, motivations, purpose, and significance for the events of later scenes. From a storytelling perspective, the writing quality has certainly improved and the tone is more consistent. I’m definitely glad to see Uri returning to improve their earlier pieces, which grants me the opportunity to experience and discuss them anew.

-Developed by: Uri

Yuppie Psycho

I find it quite impressive how such a witty game with exaggerated, supernatural elements and dark humor could generate an undercurrent of intriguing commentary through its various quirky imagery and symbolism. In particular, beginning from the early moments of the game, its characters seem to imply that opportunity and respect in this world are afforded on the basis of inherent social strata. Upward mobility to better economic gradations is quite literally represented through ascension of Sintracorp’s building, as higher floors apparently correlate to positions of greater repute and importance in the company. Since Brian can cheat in order to influence the elevation of Chapman, and Hugo can permanently eliminate his potential competition, this system might not be the most meritocratic. Additionally, the vast majority of workers are indistinguishable from one another and never allowed any personalized designations or identity beyond classification as meager, low-status “employees”. As random NPCs, they have a functional purpose to work and die in service to the overarching narrative while receiving no personal recognition and generally getting overshadowed by individuals of greater significance to the plot. I suppose, therefore, it’s rather possible to see a connection between the role these unnamed characters fill as both NPCs in a game and employees of a large corporation. I had previously wondered if any organization or regulatory body existed to impose health and safety standards onto the company’s… lackadaisical efforts in this regard, and it’s certainly quite interesting to see how such a group is depicted to be rather socialistic, in dichotomous contrast to the oligarchical, intensely capitalistic Sintracorp.

This game was particularly well orchestrated, as the rather simplistic nature of the writing and overarching narrative allowed the bizarre visual metaphors and commentary about corporate environments to take precedence without being muddled beneath layers of intricate plot developments or frequent implementations of misdirection and twists. The fluidity of the pacing, stylistic design of the various settings, and cast of unique, quirky characters were sufficient to maintain persistent interest despite this general straightforwardness to the arcs of each individual and the story overall. For instance, the personalities of Hugo, Kate, Marta, and the other co-workers (except for Tony who actually did experience the most significant growth) were retained without subversion, as were certain plot elements introduced relatively early on, such as Sintra serving as a recreation of Rei and the witch’s identity being a member of the Sintra family. Concerning the symbolism and cultivated atmosphere, the conveyance of the main thematic discussion was accomplished subtly and implicitly, and effectively navigated the delicate balance between indecipherable abstraction or surrealism and overt repetition of the obviously intended message.

With respect to the representative imagery, I suppose I already mentioned in the less explicit instances of commentary that I interpreted from sequences in the game about the interrelations between corporate operations, social strata, and employees. In addition, the employment of serpentine imagery to depict the seductive promises of greed, ambition, and sin, as well as the viperous exploitation of the expendable, was more evident in its presentation throughout the final moments of the game, though still somewhat nuanced enough to avoid becoming overbearing. A few questions do remain pertaining to the role of Mr. Devil, Mr. Slader, and the USSR, but I suspect the apparently upcoming DLC will further address these lingering matters.

Lastly, I find it a bit odd, though perhaps intentionally ironic, that Tony’s journey culminates with his realization of the importance of dedication and humility to honest economic advancement, in opposition to reliance on extant personal or familial status, and yet, Rei Sintra inherits the position of CEO on the merits of her blood alone. I suppose this, too, could be perceived of as potential commentary, considering that Sintracorp can either be helmed by a ruthlessly ambitious man desirous of power and willing to consent to the brutal elimination of his competition, or, a young girl with family connections and questionable qualifications.

A witty and compelling experience overall.

-Developed by: Baroque Decay

My Beautiful Paper Smile (Chapter 1)

From my experience, mask imagery, particularly that of the perpetual, unnatural smile, is frequently employed as a metaphor for the falsity of the performative happiness that a society often expects from its populace, and the consequential suppression or discouragement of true, diverse emotional expression. It appears this game, thus far, is using the image of a flimsy “paper” smile to demonstrate how an authoritarian system enforces the adoption of blissful ignorance, uniformity, and mental dissociation in order to quell potential dissension and solidify their control. I’ve certainly seen this concept explored before, though it’s always fascinating to delve into the irony of how the seemingly laudable goal of attaining “perfect”, ubiquitous happiness necessitates torture, emotional manipulation and abuse, the cessation of freedom, and the revocation of individualism. Additionally, the monochromatic color palette was an effective choice atmospherically and thematically, as the duality of “black and white”, “light and dark”, and “positive and negative emotions” seems to be a rather prevalent discussion. Overall, I would be interested in seeing the future direction and developments this narrative will undertake, and I hope it manages to retain intrigue, uniqueness, and compelling gameplay moving forward.

-Developed by: Two Star Games

Devotion

Background: Deviating from the 2D puzzle-adventure style of gameplay of its preceding title, Detention, developer Red Candle Games has meticulously crafted an exploratory first person experience that anatomizes the profound and devastating impact tradition, culture, societal expectations and perception, and religious fanaticism can have upon the fraying relations of a family contending with mounting penury and the illness of a child. Suffused with visual details and ideological stances prevalent within Taiwanese life in the nineteen-eighties, Devotion primarily draws its horror from the harrowing reality and grounded complexity of the familial predicaments it presents.

***

Detention was a beautiful, touching game as well as deeply informative, and, similarly, this developer succeeded with this title in their particular implementation of intricately-designed imagery and clever mechanics to convey a narrative entrenched in themes of a difficult or personal nature. The traversal of this family’s story as it transitions through time is accomplished quite fluidly as you physically move between detailed re-creations of their home environment as gradually destabilizes across the passing years. Paralleling detention, aspects of the gameplay and visuals effectively translate into elucidation of the story and its underlying emotional tone. Player action, movement, and sightline seem fairly well-directed throughout its entirety.

Needless to say, the fecundity of this development team’s imagination will never cease to impress me. Their methods of storytelling and establishing a heavy, melancholic atmosphere are diverse, effective, and continually surprising. In particular, the depiction of what appears to be Mei Shin’s panic attack, with her rapid breathing, palpitating heart beating loudly in her ears, attempts to calm herself, and the inevitable exacerbation of her symptoms due to the stress of her familial situation was rather accurate and a little harrowing to witness from her perspective. In accordance with my personal interpretation, there seems to be a bit of a theme expressing the interaction and contention between the ideals of traditionalism and modernity, represented in the father and mother respectively. The father appears intent on enforcing rigid adherence to certain familial roles, preventing the mother from working despite their dire financial circumstance and painfully internalizing his inability to solely provide for his family. Additionally, as implied throughout the game thus far, especially evidenced within the contents of the storybook, the father believes in the curative powers of belief and devotion. The mother appears to offer an antithetical perspective, berating the father for wasting money on what she perceives to be inefficacious and regretting sacrificing her career and financial independence to adopt a traditional role as a housewife. From my personal upbringing, it would seem that the fault predominantly lies with the father, as allowing the mother to work while the father sorts out his situation appears to be a tenable decision, however, I understand how entrenchment within a certain set of ideals and expectations can render a person obstinate against what they perceive to be an improper and demeaning choice. Truly, their relationship was likely loving early on, yet their incompatible and opposing perspectives on their mounting tribulations have, apparently, proven irreconcilable and insurmountable.

There’s certainly an element of miscommunication existing between the mother and father, with the couple clearly unable to discuss the variances in their opinions without devolving into a bitter argument over unresolved regrets and resentments. As the father truly seems to love his daughter, perhaps the mother could have successfully convinced him to let her work, even just temporarily, by calmly addressing the urgency of their situation and rationality of her stance. I do wonder, though, how effective a purely logical discussion would be, considering some people are more heavily influenced by emotional stimuli than reasonable, perspicuous arguments. For the father in particular, his rationale and justifications appear to be deeply rooted in his sense of personal identity and the ideological framework which supports it. His ability to provide for his family, the quality and reception of his writing, and his religiosity are all of exceptional importance to him, and are quite foundational to his conception of himself and his status in life. Consequently, agreeing to the stipulations of his wife’s proposal would be equivalent in his mind to accepting his failure as a father and husband, writer, and adherent to his religion. In avoidance of this potentially debilitating reality, he becomes defensive and rejects this offer presumably on the basis of its impropriety. He might have then succumbed to his own dissonance, deluding himself into believing that he can still financially support his family with his screenwriting and that his daughter’s condition will be ameliorated through devotion and practices of faith alone. Additionally, in augmentation and support of this quixotic perspective, he has anecdotal evidence of his daughter supposedly feeling better following religious experiences. Overall, though it might seem obvious from an outsider’s viewpoint what the most effective option may be, from the inside there are likely multiple complex factors and complications which incline people to believe and act upon only what they want to accept as best, instead of what actually is.

In general, the writing in this game is truly exceptional in its ability to accurately recreate the ambiguities and difficult decisions that are debilitating for people to navigate in real life.

To avoid sounding repetitious, in consideration of my prior comments on the ingenuity and brilliance of the imagery, direction, set-pieces, and methods of story-telling executed throughout the game, I suppose I’ll conclude with a discussion on the narrative itself. Firstly, it was rather difficult for me to hear the denial and stigmatization of anxiety and other psychological issues, specifically from a parent towards their child. This sort of flawed and misguided conceptualization of mental health issues is immensely pernicious, though, unfortunately, rather pervasive, as is the tendency to misconstrue these matters as evidence of either irredeemable insanity, personal failure or laziness, moral depravity, or corruption of the soul.

Additionally, I appreciated how this game subverted the anticipated role of a young girl in a horror game and, instead, inspired an overwhelming sympathy for the stressful burden of her fracturing family’s worsening financial situation which exacerbated, and perhaps even initially caused, her anxiety. The prevalence of the tulip image was also particularly powerful, especially in its symbolic significance to the relationship between Mei Shin, almost always depicted in yellow, and her father. It was also rather striking to me how the gentle act of folding these tulips alongside her beloved father provided such a pronounced reprieve from her symptoms, demonstrating how, like a fragile flower, tenderness, affection, care, and proper consideration of her surrounding environment were all necessary to her healthy, normal growth. Being deprived of this sensitive cultivation and placed under extreme pressure, she withered. I’m not certain if the father lived or died in the end, however, it seems as though he is truly gone either way.

Utterly devastating and beautifully constructed game overall. As anticipated, this game has truly delved into immensely grounded and devastatingly real subject matter, with an ending that is certainly not as perfect and happy as the one shown in Mei Shin’s storybook.

-Developed by: Red Candle Games