Editorials
Why ‘The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion’ is One of the Most Unintentionally Horrifying Games I Have Ever Played
I was a latecomer to The Elder Scrolls series. As someone who has clocked countless hours on various RPGs, it was not until October 2013 that I directed my attention towards Oblivion. Picking up the Game of the Year edition six years after release it was safe to assume that most if not all bugs and irregularities were patched. Oh boy was I wrong … so very wrong. What awaited me in Cyrodiil was nothing short of abject madness. An atmosphere of uneasiness accompanied me throughout my entire first playthrough. Bethesda’s efforts to achieve a photorealistic world and create both authentic and believable inhabitants led to many uncanny results. While returning to this game for more of an insight into its insanity, I realized that this game does horror so unintentionally that it is genuinely unnerving. This is even before I played the Shivering Isles; the DLC that is really supposed to be the most overt display of insanity in Oblivion.
The character creation screen is one of the most cherished features of the RPG genre. You let your imagination run wild as you fine-tune your hero’s face just to end up creating a battered slab of meat that somewhat resembles a human’s. When characters’ faces in Oblivion attempt to show any discernible emotion they twist into horrifying grimaces. At the best of times, they look like potatoes with wide-eyed smiles carved into them. In addition to the faces of Oblivion, the whole world just feels like a fever dream hellscape conceived by an AI’s idea of what a medieval fantasy world should be.
The AI constantly glitches out and you are left watching two NPCs talk at each other about various conflicting topics concerning the realm. These conversations range from completely nonsensical to manic insanity with about eight different emotions being conveyed all at one time. Coupled with the fact that these NPCs are most likely portrayed by the same voice actor/actress further adds to the overall strangeness of the world.
The landscape inhabited by the NPCs also plays a large part to the strangeness of Oblivion. The environment is beautiful don’t get me wrong, but its glossy appearance and art style gives it a hazy, almost psychedelic quality. Structures found in-game look like they were sculpted from wax which gives an unnatural sheen to most surfaces. Cyrodiil gives the impression of an AI’s idea of what a medieval fantasy world should be. It gives off a normal appearance yet it feels just a bit off thus creating an uncanniness for the player. The game’s music from Jeremy Soule’s beautiful, calming Harvest Dawn to the agitated Death Knell or even the survival-horror sounding Wind from the Depths all add to Oblivion’s unique atmosphere right up until they appear abruptly at the most inappropriate of times.
You could be having the most mundane of conversations right before the fight music initiates leaving the player in a sense of paranoia wondering where in Oblivion the threat is coming from. When the music isn’t playing entirely unannounced it can also be in response to an Imperial guard or NPC that has followed you halfway across with world … and into another dimension, because you stole fruit from them. As you traverse this world you will most likely encounter NPCs fleeing from absolutely nothing. Spouting incoherent, panic-stricken phrases before instantly returning to a tranquil state.
I have spent long stretches of time playing Oblivion frantically searching areas for any sort of danger that may be in the vicinity yet finding no discernible explanation for the NPC’s erratic behavior. Often times you can be having a pleasant conversation with an NPC but as soon as you exhaust the dialogue options their face morphs into a sneer before hurling insults at you. It feels like everyone in Cyrodiil has a schizoid nature ready to boil to the surface at any moment.
The voice acting at times sounds like the NPCs are desperately trying to come across as normal. Let’s not forget their creepy smiles and animations where their head would follow you slowly, rotating 150 degrees as they wander down the street. You can really feel their stare burning into your soul. Imagine the music video for Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden but make it a 200-hour fantasy RPG version and add a few Oblivion gates … actually, it’s EXACTLY like Black Hole Sun. In addition to this, the dialogue system insistently zooms in rapidly on characters as soon as the conversation is initiated. The player can be dragged away from what they’re doing as your focus is shifted to an NPC that has just materialized next to you. Oblivion’s unintentional mannequin-like NPCs instill a powerful sense of dread.
This is not a game for anyone with even mild Automatonophobia. The cause of this strangeness is a result of a clash between procedurally generated content with hand‐authored content. Meaning you can have two different scripts interacting at any one time creating logical instability. There are two aspects necessary for believability: “a) the user’s expectation of a performance and b) the fulfillment of that expectation.” This unpredictability makes the seemingly coherent world logic collapse as the authenticity is juuuuust a little bit askew, leading to an uncanny impression imparted onto the player.
While an ambitious effort from Bethesda, I believe that even the glitches and programming errors really add to the fantasy element of Oblivion. It creates a world we cannot make sense of or rationalize with; a truly unique, fantasy experience like no other. It feels truly otherworldly in comparison to Skyrim which goes for a more grittier art style. Skyrim removed the randomness of conversation by having only scripted character interactions. Character’s do not interact unless they have a specific script. The overactive AI scattered throughout Cyrodiil will always be memorable for better or worse as their arbitrary interactions with both the player and NPCs run completely contrary to what we have come to expect from more polished AI systems. This unpredictability correlates to an unnerving sensation for the player and with this Bethesda has unintentionally carved out their own little piece of the uncanny valley.
Editorials
‘Bloodstone: Subspecies II’ Revisited: A Bigger, Bolder Follow-Up to Full Moon’s Vampire Cult Classic
Horror sequels are a peculiar thing. In most cases, follow-ups to scary movies tend to retread the same formula with different victims and more over-the-top scares. This is because audiences tend to be more interested in the antagonists of these pictures than anything else, with even main characters becoming disposable when the time comes to produce a sequel.
That’s why some of the most memorable horror sequels are the ones that actually manage to hold onto interesting survivors from previous films while also pushing the story forward instead of having the same thing happen again to a different group of people. From Scream 2 to Dream Warriors (and arguably even The Exorcist III: Legion), there are quite a few of these innovative sequels to go around.
However, if there’s one franchise that deserves more attention when discussing bigger and better continuations that make the most of episodic filmmaking, it has to be Ted Nicolaou’s Subspecies.
The Full Moon classic spawned an indie horror icon, but bizarre sequel Bloodstone: Subspecies II is even more beloved than its predecessor.
Building a Bigger Vampire Saga
While the film itself takes place almost immediately after the events of the first movie, Bloodstone only entered production a couple of years after the release of the original as both Charles Band and Nicolaou weighed the pros and cons of returning to Romania to continue the series. In an effort to maximize efficiency, the team decided to invest in a trilogy where parts II and III, now fully written by Nicolaou, would be filmed simultaneously over the course of a single grueling shoot.
Much like the first Subspecies, Bloodstone’s low budget meant that the filmmakers once again had to cut corners and re-use as many of their resources as possible. Thankfully, the process was much easier this time around as Nicolaou, with the help of Romanian cinematographer Vlad Paunescu and his wife Oana, became more acquainted with local customs and made new friends. Shooting abroad still came with its own unique set of challenges due to a lack of translators and the occasional safety concerns, but the crew managed to make things work by filming things guerrilla-style and setting up shop in abandoned caves and real medieval ruins.
The director’s newfound contacts, coupled with the relative success of the first movie, meant that he was basically given free rein over an assortment of shooting locations usually considered off-limits for indie horror. That’s why Bloodstone features insanely ambitious lighting and effects work even during scenes shot in the middle of a bustling Bucharest. The filmmakers went so far as to project Radu’s Nosferatu-like shadows over local monuments as if he were a Romanian boogeyman, an idea that was actually encouraged by local cinephiles.
In fact, many of the more elaborate scenes here had originally been planned for the first movie before being discarded due to the lack of available resources. It was only with the support of Romanian fans and filmmakers that Bloodstone was able to give Radu a chance to be even more menacing the second time around.
Michelle’s Transformation Takes Center Stage
However, when it came to the American part of the crew, not everyone was able or willing to return for another round of Romanian adventuring. That’s why Radu’s human-loving half-brother Stefan (Michael Watson) is unceremoniously killed off at the beginning of the film while the role of Michelle had to be recast. Denice Duff took over for Laura Mae Tate, with the character now being joined by her sister, Rebecca, played by Melanie Shatner (yes, that Shatner).
In the finished film, we follow Michelle as she awakens to her new life as a vampire and discovers that Radu has murdered her lover. Struggling with grief and her newfound bloodlust, Michelle contacts her sister overseas, with Rebecca soon travelling to Romania on an ill-advised rescue mission. Meanwhile, Radu (Anders Hove) reaches out to his undead Mummy (Pamela Gordon, underneath heavy layers of impressive makeup effects) and promises to deliver her the coveted Bloodstone artifact while also making Michelle his eternal consort.
Revisiting the movie, I was impressed with how introspective this story is when compared to the original. The sequel assumes that you’re already familiar with the previously established characters, so the story wastes no time in exploring the immediate aftermath of the previous film’s events. From Michelle’s reluctant transformation into a creature of the night to Radu’s obvious mommy issues, Nicolaou is way more interested in pushing these characters into new and uncharted territory rather than recycling existing plot points.
Practical Effects and Gothic Atmosphere Still Impress
Yet, much like the first film, it’s Romania itself that makes the movie worth watching. The ruins of Castle Vladislav are even more majestic now, and visiting the moody streets of Bucharest with its surprisingly punk-rock nightlife made for a nice change of pace when compared to the original film’s quiet village setting. Once again, the abundance of interesting locations makes the movie feel much more expensive than it really is, with the filmmakers surrounding our characters with a living, breathing environment that would be impossible to recreate in a studio.
The increased freedom also allowed Nicolaou to flex his filmmaking muscles and tackle more ambitious blocking/composition in the sequel. The low budget and tropey script mean that the visuals don’t always work, but it’s consistently clear that this neo-expressionist style could only come from a passionate team attempting to pay homage to the shadowy horror classics of yesteryear. If the retro atmosphere isn’t enough for you, there’s enough practical gore here to satisfy even the most demanding of horror hounds!
Radu himself is also far more interesting now that Hove is more comfortable working alongside an international crew, with the actor having gone on record explaining that, while he spent more time drinking vodka than working while shooting the first movie, the sequel was a much more creatively satisfying experience for everyone involved. The character’s relationship with his abusive Mummy is also a highlight of the expanded mythology, especially since the practical effects that bring her to life are just as freaky now as they were back in ’93.
My only real gripe with the horror elements of the picture comes from the glaring absence of the diminutive stop-motion minions from the first film, though I guess the surprisingly entertaining addition of Professor Popescu (Michael Denish) and his archeological antics mostly make up for that.
Bloodstone: Subspecies II is obviously the middle chapter of a trilogy, with the ending feeling a lot less definitive than its predecessor as several plot threads are left to dangle in the wind, but I appreciate how the flick explores new ground while remaining faithful to nearly all the ideas that made the original such a good time. While I don’t think it’s as big of an improvement over the first movie as some fans make it out to be, Bloodstone is definitely worth revisiting if you’re a fan of old-fashioned vampire yarns.
Tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion to this initial trilogy, Bloodlust: Subspecies III!
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