Editorials
Glitches in Video Games and Their Relationship with The Uncanny Valley
The uncanny valley, to put it simply, is the experience where something looks close enough to be human, but still have trouble being seen as convincingly realistic. As you’ll probably know by doing a simple Google search, androids are the hot topic when it comes to explaining our relationship with the uncanny valley.
But then there are us folks who play video games. When asked to list beautiful video games some may include games like Skyrim, The Witcher 3, and the Assassin Creed series. Each has a grand, unique design that keeps us coming back to it and marveling in its world – whether it be the buildings, the great outdoors, or the characters.
And yet those worlds, and the characters inside them, can break. Whether it be falling through the floor, getting stuck in an extremely weird pose, or even something simple as you holding a gun wrong – each of these things messes with our perspective of the world we’re inhabiting as we play the game.
One of the more infamous examples of a game absolutely obliterating the fine line between human and the uncanny valley is Assassin Creed Unity. Thanks to a bug that made almost everyone you met appear ‘faceless’, Unity became one of the most horrifying games of 2014 – all without meaning to in the first place.
What made this bug particularly terrifying was the big, protruding eyes and how the rest of the body was left untouched. This identified the characters of Unity as human, but unlike us, the lack of a face is so obviously non-human that the response of fear at ‘otherness’ can’t help but be triggered by the look of it. Another example is that, when characters kiss and hug one another, the thought of something that looks so distinctly inhuman, but interacting in a way that we identify with? It’s horrifying to watch as it distorts our view on how we perceive the human body in general, as well as our own.
This leads to yet another example: body horror. Every individual has their own relationship with their body, but one thing most people can’t deny is that our body belongs to us, rather than it being a product. This is why the twist, distortion, and mutilation of the human body scares us, particularly in video games, because despite a controller being in our hands, we’re unable to stop what is happening with the glitch in front of us.
Yet, at times, it goes beyond the characters we play as. Sometimes the world isn’t all what it seems.
Once a world is established in a video game, familiarity seeps in and with familiarity? That’s when the feeling of safety isn’t too close behind. After all, recognizing our environment is comforting.
For example, I’ve played through Overwatch’s London map (Kings Row) a numerous amount of times. I know if I take a shortcut through the pub and circle back around into an alley on the right of me, I can most likely attack the team that’s pushing the payload and take them by complete surprise. It’s a familiar jaunt for me, and remembering the path is as easy as breathing.
Only, there’s something to jarring about being thrown from a familiar path and into a completely different world. Or, to put it simply, falling through the map.
More than a few individuals may find falling or clipping through the map interesting. You get to see the parts that developers don’t want you to see, as well as the building blocks that piece your favorite game together. It’s fun, right?
But there are people who do not fall into that category, myself included. As I fell through Kings Row, the crates and metal structures hanging eerily above me, it became more and more obvious that this was a game.
It sounds strange typing that, of course Overwatch is a game – what else could it be? But the familiarity of Kings Row had now been dashed from my memory. The structure of a London warehouse, once comforting in knowing the nooks and crannies of how to get around the enemy, had become an unsettling farce.
Playing through the map again, being brought out of my comfort zone sticks in my memory and the fear of falling through again is paralyzing. Of course, everything is familiar as usual, but nothing and nowhere is safe.
The uncanny valley is scary. That much is obvious and in video games? Well, it’s just downright terrifying.
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.
Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.
Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.
A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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