Editorials
[Editorial] ‘Resident Evil 2’ Showcases the Importance of Restraint in Horror Games
It’s often posited that ‘’familiarity breeds contempt’’. This maxim is especially true in the horror genre, where overexposure can reduce once-menacing-killers and grotesque monsters into irritating nuisances. For evidence of this phenomenon, look no further than Freddy Krueger or Jason Voorhees: previously-intimidating slashers who have become so ingrained in pop-culture, that their appearances have been rendered utterly banal. In fact, they’re so ordinary to us now that we’ve had to reinvent them as self-parodic cartoon characters!
If overusing a villain is a genuine risk in horror cinema, then it‘s surely even more of a hazard for video-games. For one thing, they’re typically longer -meaning that there’s a greater chance of antagonists getting stale- and then there’s the fact that you’re forced to replay any challenges until you can overcome them. Think about it, if you have to keep facing the exact same boss, then it’s going to feel less like an imposing confrontation and more like a tedious chore.
The thing is, even great games are guilty of this sin. Take Dead Space, for instance, an otherwise brilliant title that nevertheless blows its metaphorical load early on. Indeed, the opening hours of the cult-classic are very atmospheric, but as the monsters become more pronounced, the whole thing starts to crumble and we get bogged down in a sense of routine. Sure the Necromorphs are pretty intimidating at first, but before long you get desensitized to their repetitive jump-scares and wearisome ambushes. They only have so many tricks up their sleeve (like bursting out of vents and playing dead) and once they’ve been used up, then the impact is inevitably diluted.
Laura from The Evil Within is another good case study. Half-J-Horror-onryo, half-arachnid, she’s a truly alarming presence, guaranteed to make you lose your cool…Initially. Alas, she just keeps on returning, with all the persistence of an annoying cold-caller. This regular harassment continues until eventually you stop reacting to her arrival with a panicked shriek and instead let out an exacerbated groan. Tango Gameworks obviously wanted to create a sense of unrelenting danger with her yet, like many developers; they made the mistake of overdoing it and ended up subtracting from the horror, rather than adding to it.
Which brings us to Resident Evil 2 (2019), a game that clearly recognizes this pitfall and does its utmost to avoid it. The long-awaited remake exercises a surprising amount of restraint throughout, especially when you consider how easy it would have been for Capcom to indulge in hoary fanservice.
When it comes to rebooting/remaking/sequelizing things, there’s a tendency for the entertainment industry to amplify certain aspects of the original source, you know, the popular bits. Business acumen dictates that these things have to be capitalized upon and reinforced, even if it’s to the detriment of the overall experience. This can take several forms, be it a comically ramped-up body count (Friday the 13th sequels), a mind-numbing emphasis on action (Avengers: Age of Ultron), or an overreliance on gimmicky characters (Pirates of the Caribbean).
It’s this need to constantly escalate that led to some of the cringiest scenes from the Star Wars prequels and RE: 2 could have fallen into the same trap. After all, the original is a beloved artefact, considered by many to be the best in the series. Given this adoration, it’s easy to envision a remake where every nostalgic aspect of RE: 2 is cranked up to 11, with no regard for artistic integrity. In this scenario, the RPD hallways would be swarming with Lickers, there would be an endless horde of zombies to gun down, and Birkin would eventually transform into a giant Kaiju or something.
However, this remake has a welcome air of dignity preventing it from ever going too far. It keeps things relatively simple, at least by Resident Evil’s bonkers standards. For example, the aforementioned Lickers are deployed quite sparingly and you never encounter more than two at a time. This rarity means that, when you do bump into them, it’s still an exhilarating moment and they retain that fearsome quality they had back in 1998.
The same also goes for the zombies. Granted they are far more commonplace than the Lickers, but their number is still quite finite and you’re never in a position to take them all on at once. This is particularly relieving for fans, who were concerned that this would be another overblown, Michael Bay extravaganza, ala Resident Evil 6. That nauseating shitshow was the antithesis of horror, with approximately 6 million zombies clogging up the screen at any given time. Because the undead were so voluminous, they had to be underpowered and felt like inconsequential cannon-fodder as a result.
It’s therefore gratifying to see that RE: 2 does not continue this trend and actually restores the fear-factor. Again, it’s all to do with restraint, as this deceptively clever remake understands that it’s far more effective to scale back and return to basics, so that you can make just a handful of zombies a frightening prospect.
Finally, we have the infamous Mr. X who, for all of the hysteria he has generated, isn’t that dominant a presence. In fact, the only slice of RE: 2 wherein he is given free reign to pursue you is very limited. Unscripted encounters with the brute only occur when you are scouring the police station for electrical parts (he admittedly arrives a tad earlier in your B scenario) and other than that, his chases are all preordained.
His shadow may loom over the entire experience, but honestly, you spend most of your time in a state of apprehension- worrying that he might show up. The infrequency of Mr. X’s visits is crucial to his mystique, as it allows him to feel scary and imposing, rather than vexing. You dread his next arrival, not because you’re getting sick of him, but because he’s still got that new-monster sheen.
In short, RE: 2’s greatest attribute is that it doesn’t surrender to excess. Nor does it cram iconic creatures down your throat or overuse its stalker enemy. This understated approach makes it not only a faithful recreation of the original, but also one of the best horror games in recent memory.
Editorials
‘Leprechaun Returns’ – The Charm of the Franchise’s Legacy Sequel
The erratic Leprechaun franchise is not known for sticking with a single concept for too long. The namesake (originally played by Warwick Davis) has gone to L.A., Las Vegas, space, and the ‘hood (not once but twice). And after an eleven-year holiday since the Davis era ended, the character received a drastic makeover in a now-unmentionable reboot. The critical failure of said film would have implied it was time to pack away the green top hat and shillelagh, and say goodbye to the nefarious imp. Instead, the Leprechaun series tried its luck again.
The general consensus for the Leprechaun films was never positive, and the darker yet blander Leprechaun: Origins certainly did not sway opinions. Just because the 2014 installment took itself seriously did not mean viewers would. After all, creator Mark Jones conceived a gruesome horror-comedy back in the early nineties, and that format is what was expected of any future ventures. So as horror legacy sequels (“legacyquels”) became more common in the 2010s, Leprechaun Returns followed suit while also going back to what made the ‘93 film work. This eighth entry echoed Halloween (2018) by ignoring all the previous sequels as well as being a direct continuation of the original. Even ardent fans can surely understand the decision to wipe the slate clean, so to speak.
Leprechaun Returns “continued the [franchise’s] trend of not being consistent by deciding to be consistent.” The retconning of Steven Kostanski and Suzanne Keilly’s film was met with little to no pushback from the fandom, who had already become accustomed to seeing something new and different with every chapter. Only now the “new and different” was familiar. With the severe route of Origins a mere speck in the rearview mirror, director Kotanski implemented a “back to basics” approach that garnered better reception than Zach Lipovsky’s own undertaking. The one-two punch of preposterous humor and grisly horror was in full force again.
With Warwick Davis sitting this film out — his own choice — there was the foremost challenge of finding his replacement. Returns found Davis’ successor in Linden Porco, who admirably filled those blood-stained, buckled shoes. And what would a legacy sequel be without a returning character? Jennifer Aniston obviously did not reprise her final girl role of Tory Redding. So, the film did the next best thing and fetched another of Lubdan’s past victims: Ozzie, the likable oaf played by Mark Holton. Returns also created an extension of Tory’s character by giving her a teenage daughter, Lila (Taylor Spreitler).
It has been twenty-five years since the events of the ‘93 film. The incident is unknown to all but its survivors. Interested in her late mother’s history there in Devil’s Lake, North Dakota, Lila transferred to the local university and pledged a sorority — really the only one on campus — whose few members now reside in Tory Redding’s old home. The farmhouse-turned-sorority-house is still a work in progress; Lila’s fellow Alpha Epsilon sisters were in the midst of renovating the place when a ghost of the past found its way into the present.
The Psycho Goreman and The Void director’s penchant for visceral special effects is noted early on as the Leprechaun tears not only into the modern age, but also through poor Ozzie’s abdomen. The portal from 1993 to 2018 is soaked with blood and guts as the Leprechaun forces his way into the story. Davis’ iconic depiction of the wee antagonist is missed, however, Linden Porco is not simply keeping the seat warm in case his predecessor ever resumes the part. His enthusiastic performance is accentuated by a rotten-looking mug that adds to his innate menace.
The obligatory fodder is mostly young this time around. Apart from one luckless postman and Ozzie — the premature passing of the latter character removed the chance of caring about anyone in the film — the Leprechaun’s potential prey are all college aged. Lila is this story’s token trauma kid with caregiver baggage; her mother thought “monsters were always trying to get her.” Lila’s habit of mentioning Tory’s mental health problem does not make a good first impression with the resident mean girl and apparent alcoholic of the sorority, Meredith (Emily Reid). Then there are the nicer but no less cursorily written of the Alpha Epsilon gals: eco-conscious and ex-obsessive Katie (Pepi Sonuga), and uptight overachiever Rose (Sai Bennett). Rounding out the main cast are a pair of destined-to-die bros (Oliver Llewellyn Jenkins, Ben McGregor). Lila and her peers range from disposable to plain irritating, so rooting for any one of them is next to impossible. Even so, their overstated personalities make their inevitable fates more satisfying.
Where Returns excels is its death sequences. Unlike Jones’ film, this one is not afraid of killing off members of the main cast. Lila, admittedly, wears too much plot armor, yet with her mother’s spirit looming over her and the whole story — comedian Heather McDonald put her bang-on Aniston impersonation to good use as well as provided a surprisingly emotional moment in the film — her immunity can be overlooked. Still, the other characters’ brutal demises make up for Lila’s imperviousness. The Leprechaun’s killer set-pieces also happen to demonstrate the time period, seeing as he uses solar panels and a drone in several supporting characters’ executions. A premortem selfie and the antagonist’s snarky mention of global warming additionally add to this film’s particular timestamp.
Critics were quick to say Leprechaun Returns did not break new ground. Sure, there is no one jetting off to space, or the wacky notion of Lubdan becoming a record producer. This reset, however, is still quite charming and entertaining despite its lack of risk-taking. And with yet another reboot in the works, who knows where the most wicked Leprechaun ever to exist will end up next.
Horror contemplates in great detail how young people handle inordinate situations and all of life’s unexpected challenges. While the genre forces characters of every age to face their fears, it is especially interested in how youths might fare in life-or-death scenarios.
The column Young Blood is dedicated to horror stories for and about teenagers, as well as other young folks on the brink of terror.
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