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[Best of 2018] How ‘SEPTEMBER 1999’ Presents Anxiety and Chills Through Mystery and Minimalism

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Spoiler follow.

Indie video games have brought forth some fascinating experiences in recent years. Whether it’s the lovely tale of Florence, the heartbreak of What Remains Of Edith Finch, or the existentialism of The Beginner’s Guide, indie gaming has introduced millions of players to beautiful stories and unique gameplay outside the mainstream.

One of the newest gems in this art form is that of 98demake’s September 1999. The game takes place over five and a half minutes; besides walking around, the only other thing the player can do is zoom their vision in for a closer look at things. Visual perspective in September 1999 takes place through a video camera. The display provides the time and date, strings of static and fuzz going across the screen. This perspective enhances the creep factor of September 1999; as a first-person video game, the use of a camera brings a sense of intimacy to the surroundings as one moves and looks around.

Upon starting the game you’re facing a wall; turning around, you discover you’re in a bedroom. Looking around you’ll notice how it’s littered with wine bottles and beer cans; besides a lamp, a mattress, and other junk, the room is bleak. You can walk around the room, knocking into bottles and cans as you approach them, or you have the option to leave. Doing so brings you into a short hallway.  Besides some wine bottles, you’ll notice a couple hung up pictures, a cross on the wall, and a bible on a nearby chair. Of the three doors at the end, all three are locked; the only window in the game happens to be boarded up.

As you walk back and forth there’s anticipation; things feel far too simple, and you may begin to think something is just bound to pop out. It’s common for many horror games to incorporate jump scares, catching us off guard in the quietest of moments. Then all of a sudden the display blacks out, cutting to fuzz and static, coming back to show that you’re standing in the middle of the hallway.

Minus the date and time on the screen, nothing seems to have changed. Even as you enter the bedroom, the setting still looks the same, minus a flickering lamp. That feeling of anticipation begins to intensify as you wonder what is going to happen. Then you hear footsteps somewhere in the distance. Awaiting for something to appear and shock you, the screen cuts out again.

This time, while standing in the hallway, all the lights are off. With a flashlight in hand, you notice red and blue lights flashing through the boarded up window. There’s chatter outside that sounds as if it could be the police; as they begin knocking on your door, your mind starts to question just why the hell would the police be here?

Then you find a wrapped up body in the bedroom. As it lies on the mattress, your mind may begin to race and wonder how it got there and who it is.

After the next blackout cut, you are standing in the hallway with the lights; the first big difference in this scene happens to be large smears of blood leading towards all the different doors. There’s also classical music playing somewhere in the distance, along with the sound of a man crying. As you head back towards the bedroom, you have no idea what’s behind the door. Upon entering, you see plastic wrap draped over the entire room. The mattress, now soaked in blood, lies against the wall. On the floor is a collection of grotesque, bloody body parts.

When the game shifts scenes for the final time, your view becomes fixed. It appears as though the camera has been left on the floor, giving a limited view of what’s happening. In the distance a chainsaw goes off, revving until the screen goes black.

On paper, these transitions may seem simple, but in actuality, they help to set up a profound horror atmosphere. The transitioning blackout cuts exude unease and anxiety given their sporadic presentation; unless you’ve played the game already, there’s no way to know when each shift will occur. Trying to search for clues as to what is going on and having no control of the shifting setting leaves one powerless regarding what’s to come. As a whole, September 1999 feels like an immersive trip diving into the unknown, making for a terrific horror gaming experience.

There is much debate around whether or not “walking simulators” are video games; I am part of the crowd that shouts that they are. Video games are evolving with technology, as well as our understanding of gaming. In my opinion, a digital space where one can interact or participate in is “playing”; the fact that September 1999 gives you room to move about an area, to explore and feel, makes it a video game. By no means is it a video game in a formalistic sense, but a game none of the less.

Part of September 1999’s appeal is embracing its atmosphere; since there aren’t any activities one can do outside of walking and looking, the player has more room to engage with the mystery. With all this space for imagination, the player can try to piece together their own story; what I found to be terrifying about this element, is the fact that we have no idea who the avatar we are controlling is.

Are we the one who brought this body here? Are we the one the cops are looking for? Are we the one who is revving that chainsaw at the end?

There’s no answer.

September 1999‘s limited space, control, context, and manipulated setting make for one of the best and uncomfortable gaming experiences in recent years. September 1999 is a game that embraces horror, placing the player in a state of unknown and with no control.

In a world dominated by big industry titles, it’s tough to confirm how well one could market a game like September 1999. However, I believe there is much to learn from it. Not only is it a reminder of the wonderful art that comes from indie gaming, but it is an example of how video games can present severe unease, anxiety, and horror.

Michael Pementel is a pop culture critic at Bloody Disgusting, primarily covering video games and anime. He writes about music for other publications, and is the creator of Bloody Disgusting's "Anime Horrors" column.

Editorials

Finding Faith and Violence in ‘The Book of Eli’ 14 Years Later

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Having grown up in a religious family, Christian movie night was something that happened a lot more often than I care to admit. However, back when I was a teenager, my parents showed up one night with an unusually cool-looking DVD of a movie that had been recommended to them by a church leader. Curious to see what new kind of evangelical propaganda my parents had rented this time, I proceeded to watch the film with them expecting a heavy-handed snoozefest.

To my surprise, I was a few minutes in when Denzel Washington proceeded to dismember a band of cannibal raiders when I realized that this was in fact a real movie. My mom was horrified by the flick’s extreme violence and dark subject matter, but I instantly became a fan of the Hughes Brothers’ faith-based 2010 thriller, The Book of Eli. And with the film’s atomic apocalypse having apparently taken place in 2024, I think this is the perfect time to dive into why this grim parable might also be entertaining for horror fans.

Originally penned by gaming journalist and The Walking Dead: The Game co-writer Gary Whitta, the spec script for The Book of Eli was already making waves back in 2007 when it appeared on the coveted Blacklist. It wasn’t long before Columbia and Warner Bros. snatched up the rights to the project, hiring From Hell directors Albert and Allen Hughes while also garnering attention from industry heavyweights like Denzel Washington and Gary Oldman.

After a series of revisions by Anthony Peckham meant to make the story more consumer-friendly, the picture was finally released in January of 2010, with the finished film following Denzel as a mysterious wanderer making his way across a post-apocalyptic America while protecting a sacred book. Along the way, he encounters a run-down settlement controlled by Bill Carnegie (Gary Oldman), a man desperate to get his hands on Eli’s book so he can motivate his underlings to expand his empire. Unwilling to let this power fall into the wrong hands, Eli embarks on a dangerous journey that will test the limits of his faith.


SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Judging by the film’s box-office success, mainstream audiences appear to have enjoyed the Hughes’ bleak vision of a future where everything went wrong, but critics were left divided by the flick’s trope-heavy narrative and unapologetic religious elements. And while I’ll be the first to admit that The Book of Eli isn’t particularly subtle or original, I appreciate the film’s earnest execution of familiar ideas.

For starters, I’d like to address the religious elephant in the room, as I understand the hesitation that some folks (myself included) might have about watching something that sounds like Christian propaganda. Faith does indeed play a huge part in the narrative here, but I’d argue that the film is more about the power of stories than a specific religion. The entire point of Oldman’s character is that he needs a unifying narrative that he can take advantage of in order to manipulate others, while Eli ultimately chooses to deliver his gift to a community of scholars. In fact, the movie even makes a point of placing the Bible in between equally culturally important books like the Torah and Quran, which I think is pretty poignant for a flick inspired by exploitation cinema.

Sure, the film has its fair share of logical inconsistencies (ranging from the extent of Eli’s Daredevil superpowers to his impossibly small Braille Bible), but I think the film more than makes up for these nitpicks with a genuine passion for classic post-apocalyptic cinema. Several critics accused the film of being a knockoff of superior productions, but I’d argue that both Whitta and the Hughes knowingly crafted a loving pastiche of genre influences like Mad Max and A Boy and His Dog.

Lastly, it’s no surprise that the cast here absolutely kicks ass. Denzel plays the title role of a stoic badass perfectly (going so far as to train with Bruce Lee’s protégée in order to perform his own stunts) while Oldman effortlessly assumes a surprisingly subdued yet incredibly intimidating persona. Even Mila Kunis is remarkably charming here, though I wish the script had taken the time to develop these secondary characters a little further. And hey, did I mention that Tom Waits is in this?


AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Denzel’s very first interaction with another human being in this movie results in a gory fight scene culminating in a face-off against a masked brute wielding a chainsaw (which he presumably uses to butcher travelers before eating them), so I think it’s safe to say that this dog-eat-dog vision of America will likely appeal to horror fans.

From diseased cannibals to hyper-violent motorcycle gangs roaming the wasteland, there’s plenty of disturbing R-rated material here – which is even more impressive when you remember that this story revolves around the bible. And while there are a few too many references to sexual assault for my taste, even if it does make sense in-universe, the flick does a great job of immersing you in this post-nuclear nightmare.

The excessively depressing color palette and obvious green screen effects may take some viewers out of the experience, but the beat-up and lived-in sets and costume design do their best to bring this dead world to life – which might just be the scariest part of the experience.

Ultimately, I believe your enjoyment of The Book of Eli will largely depend on how willing you are to overlook some ham-fisted biblical references in order to enjoy some brutal post-apocalyptic shenanigans. And while I can’t really blame folks who’d rather not deal with that, I think it would be a shame to miss out on a genuinely engaging thrill-ride because of one minor detail.

With that in mind, I’m incredibly curious to see what Whitta and the Hughes Brothers have planned for the upcoming prequel series starring John Boyega


There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

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