Editorials
[Editorial] ‘Temple Run 2’ and The Black Dog of Depression
Temple Run 2 is a horror game.
Recently, that’s been sort of obvious. For October, developer Imangi’s endless runner was decked out in Halloween accouterments. Jack-o-lantern’s shine with glowing, yellow smiles as you sprint past. A kryptonitic green liquid has replaced the blue H20 that usually flows down waterfalls. Dead ends are marked with tombstones, ghosts lurk just off the track and bone-white candles and cobwebs spookify the fallen logs that obstruct your path.
But, strip away the haunted house decorations, and horror is still at the heart of the Temple Run 2 experience. More specifically, Temple Run 2 can be read as an allegory for depression that gives physical shape to mental illness in much the same way that The Babadook did in 2014.
But, before we dive into that, a few words on what— allegory aside— Temple Run 2 is. In the 2013 sequel to the hit 2011 mobile game, players assume the role of an Indiana Jones-style adventurer navigating an endless, procedurally generated obstacle course. The adventurer must move quickly because a hulking monster pursues him.
The creature, which is covered in black fur and looks like a mixture of bear, gorilla and dog, is relentless. One misstep and the monster is at your heels. Two missteps and the monster has captured you, scooping you up in a massive paw and using your puny body to pound its barrel chest.
None of this is especially scary (though, as you get further along and the track becomes increasingly serpentine, the tension gets ratcheted up significantly). But, intentionally or not, Imangi makes interactive a famous metaphor for depression, popularized by Winston Churchill. The former British Prime Minister referred to his depression as a “black dog,” a phrase which he borrowed from Samuel Johnson.
“I think this man might be useful to me,” Churchill said, of a doctor who had treated the wife of a friend of his, “if my black dog returns. He seems quite away from me now – it is such a relief. All the colours come back into the picture.”
This metaphor has always, in my mind, conjured the image of an animal stalking its prey, hiding in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to strike. This may be because I associate the metaphor with the Grim, the literal black dog that Harry sees on a London street before boarding the Knight Bus in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Professor Trelawney tells him that this animal is an omen of death for whoever encounters it. (Things end up working out okay between Harry and the dog, but it’s still spooky).
The beast in Temple Run 2 also means death for whoever encounters it. Imangi’s game is an endless runner, meaning the aim is to achieve a high score, not to beat the game. You can’t beat the game; for as long as you can run, procedurally-generated track will stretch out in front of you. That means that, if you decide to play Temple Run 2, to encounter the beast, it will certainly mean death for you eventually.
To my depressed brain, this is what makes the concept of the black dog existentially terrifying. When I see older celebrities, like Robin Williams and Anthony Bourdain, become victims of suicide—both while in their sixties—it can be triggering. It reminds me of the dogged persistence of the pursuer. These men dealt with issues of mental health until late middle age, and they still weren’t able to escape.
Temple Run 2’s beast embodies this version of the black dog. Fast, strong, and tireless. No matter how many stages you unlock, how many crystals and coins you collect on the track, how many dodges and leaps you execute flawlessly, the beast follows.
But, fortunately, there’s a more hopeful facet of the metaphor. Humans have been taming dogs for centuries. Canines can be unruly. Sometimes they bite. Sometimes people are even killed by dogs or infected by rabid bites. But, dogs can be leashed, they can be walked, they can be lived with.
The same is true of the black dog. If you or someone you know needs help in that endeavor, this is a great place to start: https://www.blackdoginstitute.org.au/
I first heard about The Mandela Catalogue through a couple of nephews who were obsessed with the ARG’s sinister mythology. It was only after watching Wendigoon’s in-depth analysis of the series that I realized just how deep this rabbit hole goes.
In fact, I’d already been exposed to the nightmarish visuals of Alex Kister’s YouTube creation for years at that point without even realizing that it was the origin of several viral “cursed images” and spooky memes that had leaked into the wider internet – with this viral element actually being a part of the Catalogue’s overarching narrative.
Flash-forward to 2026 and the unprecedented success of Kane Parsons’ Backrooms has led to Hollywood betting on horrific internet properties with existing fanbases, which means that Kister’s unique hybrid of both religious and analog horror is finally headed to the big screen with a script written by Kister himself alongside Tyler Clifton.
While this news shouldn’t be too surprising if you’ve been keeping up with the ongoing success of The Mandela Catalogue (both myself and Wendigoon having previously predicted that the series would inevitably make the jump to theaters one day), plenty of horror fans are likely confused as to why so many folks are excited for what appears to be a Hollywood adaptation of a series of creepy .jpeg images under a VHS filter.
With that in mind, today I’d like to invite fellow readers to accompany me as I explore the origins of Alex Kister’s viral hit and attempt to explain exactly why we should all be excited about the Mandela Catalogue adaptation!
From High School Writing Project to Internet Horror Phenomenon
The first seeds of The Mandela Catalogue were sown when Kister was still in high school and developed a writing project subverting religious tropes in a world where biblical history had been altered by demonic forces. A little while later, Kister came across an analog horror contest on Reddit and decided to adapt his ideas into a standalone video where he would edit a religious kids’ cartoon –The Beginner’s Bible: The Nativity, to be specific- into something far creepier. This is how the iconic Overthrone video was born, with this viral short film taking on a life of its own as fans demanded more eerie content from Kister.
Though the video was originally meant to be a one-and-done sort of affair, with Kister actually regretting some of its primitive visuals and considering the editing amateurish and “YouTube-Poop-like” when compared to his current standards, fan reaction and free time during the COVID-19 pandemic encouraged the (then) seventeen-year-old filmmaker to continue producing content set in this same world. The Mandela Catalogue name was inspired by the Mandela Effect conspiracy theory, as the series would slowly begin to explore the subtle horror of alternate histories.
Inspired by existential dread brought on by extended periods of quarantine as well as a personal crisis of faith, Kister continued to expand his alternate timeline where the rise of Christianity had been prevented by what was presumably the Devil disguised as the Archangel Gabriel. This alternate course of fictional events led to the existence of certain paranormal anomalies that had come to be accepted as “normal” by the 1990s, which is why most of the series’ supernatural horror is presented in such a matter-of-fact manner.
Most of this background information and religious lore is delivered by increasingly cryptic broadcasts and in-universe PSAs, as well as the occasional found footage video, that often have to be decoded by clever viewers. Of course, it’s the consistently disturbing imagery that made the series so popular – much of which was originally created by Kister on a smartphone!
The Alternates: Horror’s Most Unsettling Modern Monsters
The show’s early episodes mostly take place within the fictional Mandela County in Wisconsin and depict life in a world where demonic entities are capable of using media to enter our reality. This process usually involves scaring victims into killing themselves and then repurposing their bodies as horrific doppelgangers referred to as “Alternates”. This terrifying phenomenon has become so common that local police already have specialized procedures in place to deal with the issue, though this usually consists of simply ignoring calls for help so as to avoid spreading so-called “Metaphysical Awareness Disorder” any further.
Over time, Kister would expand this mythology and incorporate different kinds of Alternates into the mix, though the story never stopped deconstructing religious concepts. The series’ second volume exponentially increased both video quality and the overall narrative scope as we began to follow the lives of characters who had already grown up in this dystopian hellscape where the government is forced to prohibit religion, television, and even mirrors in the hopes of mitigating the damage done by the ongoing invasion of otherworldly entities.
The really interesting part comes into play when you realize exactly how the Alternates make use of scary media in order to spread their demonic influence, with the analog horror of it all being a diegetic part of the story and something of a memetic trap orchestrated by the false Gabriel.
I particularly appreciate how some characters begin to suspect that there’s something wrong with their version of reality and that things weren’t meant to play out this way, especially when Mark utters the haunting line “who have I been praying to all this time?” That’s why I think The Mandela Catalogue is an effective piece of religious horror even if you don’t subscribe to the Christian worldview, as the mere idea of a world where evil has already won is a universally terrifying concept in and of itself. Not only that, but the series’ uncanny analog imagery alone is already worth the price of admission, as you’ve likely already noticed by looking at the pictures accompanying this article.
Why The Feature Adaptation Could Be Horror’s Next Big Success
It’s actually been a whole year since Kister first announced that he had been working on a feature-length screenplay for a Mandela Catalogue movie since 2022, with his proposed story following an ensemble of high-school graduates who uncover a supernatural conspiracy after the mysterious disappearance of a fellow student. This premise sounds similar to narrative elements present in the series’ second volume, but I’m pretty sure that Kister is going to go the Kane Parsons route and make the movie more of a spin-off than a re-imagining of its source material.
While notable Hollywood producers like Aaron B. Koontz, Scott Stuber, and Steven Spielberg himself are backing the upcoming project, I feel like there’s no one better to adapt this deeply personal exploration of faith and the dark side of communication than the person who first came up with it. That’s why I can’t wait to see Kister’s work on the big screen, as I have a feeling that this young filmmaker is the next one on the list about to make cinematic history – especially since this is clearly a passion project that has been in the works for years at this point!
That being said, there’s always a chance that the film could end up unleashing a fresh wave of Alternate incursions, but I guess that’s just a risk we’ll have to take.
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