Editorials
How The PlayStation Camera Ruined The Scariest Moments of ‘Until Dawn’
No matter if it’s a game or a film, If there’s a jump scare then I’ve probably jumped out of my seat and screamed due to it. Despite loving the horror genre, I’ve never had much of a resolve when it comes to withstanding these scares. However, one of the most high-profile horror titles in recent years didn’t have much of an impact on me, despite scaring plenty of others, and it’s due to a pretty glaring design flaw that most people didn’t experience.
I’m talking about Until Dawn, Supermassive Games’ breakout hit of 2015. While I adored the campy tropes and characters that made the story instantly relatable, there was one problem: I just didn’t find the experience all that scary. Endearing and fun? Sure, but the whole thing fell flat when it came to actually delivering the gasps of the horror movies it was trying to emulate.
Like a lot of the genre, Until Dawn relies on sudden appearances and characters jumping into frame in order to rile up the player during some of its important events. No matter what your personal opinion is on jump scares, there’s no denying that they’re effective (even if the reactions are sometimes unearned). However, nearly every single jump scare in Until Dawn failed to make an impression on me due to a very specific reason.
You see, if you owned a PlayStation Camera you were given the option to enable a setting that would allow the device to turn on during key moments. It would proceed to film your reaction to shocking reveals, and in turn you could watch these scenes back with friends or family. So, if you jumped out of your chair or screamed your lungs out during a particularly scary moment, it’d be permanently available.
Now, the intention of developer Supermassive Games is pretty clear here. One of the reasons why horror games have seen a resurgence in popularity over the past decade is thanks to the genre’s popularity among Let’s Play videos. People love watching players get spooked (be it genuine or exaggerated). So, they decided to put their own spin onto it where these moments could be shared later on social media. After all, we’re living in a connected world that allows clips to spread like wildfire across the globe, and there’s an added desire to make sure there is a virality to your product, as it can sometimes be the difference between a game recouping its development costs or being a financial failure for the company.
The idea is quite genius in theory, but the execution was off the mark, to say the least. See, the biggest issue with what Until Dawn did was that the PlayStation Camera emits a bright red light to indicate that it’s turned on. This is a problem since the device would stay off until about 15 seconds before a scripted moment that Supermassive Games deemed scary enough to be a recorded moment. This wound up ruining the factor that jump scares require to be interesting: surprise.
So, if you looked back at my saved videos of Until Dawn, you’d just see me blankly staring at the screen as moments (I probably would’ve been terrified by had I not been inadvertently warned about) occurred. It not only impacted the overall horror experience (if a horror game fails to actually scare or unsettle then does it really succeed at its goals?), but it accidentally created some hilarious videos where I just couldn’t be less engaged with moments that the developer had singled out as important.
What doesn’t help is that horror games are often played in a very particular setting. People want to create a spooky mood for such a title, and that often means turning off all of the lights. This allows them to focus purely on the television and to become more immersed in the experience. Well, at least until a bright red light comes on to warn you that a jump scare is imminent.
Now there are certainly ways that I could have circumvented this issue. I’m certain that some black masking tape would block the light entirely and then my experience wouldn’t have been hindered, but how many players are actually going to go out of their way? Plus, I like knowing when my PlayStation Camera is on, as the light is there for a good reason.
So, what could have Supermassive Games have done to fix this experience? There are a few tweaks that could have at least made it less predictable. For example, if the light turned on during random intervals it could almost be used as a meta aspect, where players would get anxious during dull moments. If you’re expecting something bad to happen, and nothing comes immediately, the tension is raised. Conversely, they could have also just had the PlayStation Camera’s red light on the entire time. That way it never spoils anything and doesn’t distract the player since it’s just a constant in the room rather than ruining an elaborate atmosphere they tried to create beforehand.
It really goes to show that ideas need to really be tested before they’re shipped, as something that was intended to be a cool bonus feature can have negative impacts on the overall product for some. Thankfully, most players didn’t own a PlayStation Camera at the time, let alone turned on the feature, but my playthrough of one of the best horror games in recent memory will forever be somewhat lackluster because of it.
Editorials
Tales from ‘Tales from the Crypt’: Exhuming The Final Season’s “A Slight Case of Murder” Episode
All good things must come to an end—yes, even Tales from the Crypt (1989–1996). That iconic horror show finally concluded after airing ninety-three episodes. As we all know, traditional anthologies aren’t too common to see on TV anymore, much less be that long, so this kind of endurance is even more impressive.
Now, I would be remiss to not bring up how very off that last season felt, in comparison to past ones. If not for the Crypt Keeper’s bookends, it was like a different show at that point. Essentially, it was when you assessed how much had changed. Producer Gilbert Adler was responsible for those divisive renovations; his moving production to England was an attempt to give Crypt “a shot in the arm”. What he instead did was create obstacles for both himself and the series. Some could be overcome, whereas others were less yielding.
Fans decry Season Seven, but in all fairness, Season Six wasn’t all roses, either. And like Six, Seven does have a few bright spots. The move to merry England couldn’t completely undo what we love about the series. Yes, there was a decline in gore; the dial had especially been turned down on those big, bloody conclusions we all love. It must be said, though, that the final season was hardly the only one to be gruesome-lite. Plenty of past episodes also did without copious amounts of the red stuff.
At the time, traveling abroad may not have been seen as a bad thing. The new season was off to a strong start, based on favorable reactions to the premiere. The Natasha Richardson-starring opener, “Fatal Caper” (Bob Hoskins, Colman deKay, A. L. Katz, Gilbert Adler), is as ridiculous as it is clever. However, it would soon become apparent that not everything to come in Season Seven was up to the same standards as that first episode. It was going to be a bumpy ride, to say the least.
Most will agree that the seventh season wasn’t a complete bust. The blood-soaked “Horror in the Night” (Russell Mulcahy, John Harrison) is atmospheric and trippy; there, a jewel thief (James Wilby) experiences a nightmarish evening while hiding out in a haunted hotel. Then there is what many consider to be the season’s standout, and perhaps even the last great episode of the series. In the gritty “Confession” (Peter Hewitt, Scott Nimerfro), a detective (Ciarán Hinds) suspects a screenwriter (Eddie Izzard) is behind a string of murders. Although it is a strange way to end things, “The Third Pig” (Bill Kopp, Pat Ventura) also has its admirers; this animated entry is a demented new spin on the classic fairytale “The Three Little Pigs“, as opposed to anything out of EC Comics‘ vault.
Another fine episode is “A Slight Case of Murder”, which I find a bit lighthearted for Tales from the Crypt. In spite of all the killing, of course. It also makes good use of the scenery change; an upside of the show’s relocation is the real estate. A Tudor-style home sits at the heart of this amusing episode, written and directed by Brian Helgeland (A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, 976-EVIL). Cozy mystery lovers should be quite smitten with the story’s choice of venue.
A common complaint about Season Seven is its lack of star power. Gone were the days when anyone who was anyone in Hollywood stopped by and played a role. That said, it wasn’t as if the series was now just hiring nobodies off the street; the problem was that many American viewers weren’t as familiar with the new casts. “A Slight Case of Murder” was such a case, given how Francesca Annis, Elizabeth Spriggs, and Christopher Cazenove weren’t exactly household names in the States. Naturally, the English would have an easier time recognizing the leads of this and other Season Seven episodes.
“A Slight Case of Murder” is an example of a crabby author getting what’s coming to them. Generally speaking, the horror genre has never cared much for depictions of kind writers. And here, Annis plays that rather irritable novelist whose next bestseller is at risk of being published posthumously. After brilliantly insulting her neighbor, an aspiring author named Mrs. Trask (Spriggs), Sharon Bannister detects a prowler. She then takes no comfort knowing the intruder is just her ex (Cazenove). He’s not here to reminisce about old times.
The last page from “A Slight Case of Murder!”, as seen in EC Comics’ The Vault of Horror.
The episode, while amusing, feels like it belongs in another anthology. The one I’m thinking of, on account of the British actors and the story being centered around jealousy, is Tales of the Unexpected. That series, by the way, also eventually went overseas; some later episodes cast Americans and were set in the U.S. So, yes, “A Slight Case of Murder” isn’t a thing like classic Crypt, but it is awfully charming.
By now, no one should be shocked to learn that an episode of Tales from the Crypt is different from its basis. In fact, the “A Slight Case of Murder!” found in EC’s The Vault of Horror bears no resemblance to Helgeland’s adaptation. An old doctor returns to his hometown to solve a bunch of murders—the victims were all women. At each crime, there was no sign of a break-in, seeing as how the women’s doors and windows were locked from the inside. The sheriff says the only other way in, in one case, was a hot-air vent. He concludes no human could have fit through that, but the doctor suggests the culprit is “not an ordinary human”.
The doctor meets with the sheriff at an old house formerly known as the Bates Mansion. Yet before revealing the killer’s identity, the doctor tells a story about a local widow named Amelia Bates. After her newborn turned out to be—and I’m merely quoting writers Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein—a “misshapen monster”, Amelia asked the doctor to tell everyone her child was a stillborn. She kept that underdeveloped, slithering boy a secret from everyone; only the doctor knew.
Years later, that same child went on to murder a series of women. All of whom rejected his love. And who, pray tell, did that baby become? The town’s sheriff, that’s who! The last frame of the comic, one showing the sheriff’s hidden mechanical body, is so startling that it’s actually disappointing that Tales from the Crypt didn’t properly adapt this story. It would have fit in so well with the older seasons.
As they say in the biz, the show must go on—and Tales from the Crypt did just that, even when the quality had noticeably dropped. But like I always tell myself during the lesser episodes, any Crypt is still better than no Crypt.
Along with Seasons One through Six, Season Seven of Tales from the Crypt can be streamed on Shudder, starting on June 12.
A delightful shot from “A Slight Case of Murder” suggests Elizabeth Spriggs’ character, Mrs. Trask, is more devilish than she first seemed.
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