Editorials
The Specific Fear of Claustrophobia and the Closing Door in ‘Resident Evil 2’
Resident Evil 2 is a scary game. It wants the player to think that it is a scary game and it wants to succeed in instilling fear into the player. From the start, it attempts to do so by placing the player in areas they are unfamiliar with—foreign subjects interacting with objectively foreign spaces—and by instilling in the player the notion that they are weak, zombies are strong, and that avoiding conflict is a keen tactical maneuver. Restraint itself can become a weapon in the player’s ever-expanding toolset. Yet, what does the player do when they are stuck with nowhere to go? Better yet, what does Leon Kennedy do when he is at his weakest and most vulnerable?
Once Leon arrives at the Raccoon City police station, his journey genuinely begins. The station itself is a labyrinthine building that seems to be designed as a cruel joke against directional and architectural norms. Luckily, Leon has a map to guide his way through this living hell. This map takes Leon to and fro as he explores this new and menacing environment. Exploration continues, doors are opened, bullets are fired, zombies die (eventually), and then Leon finds himself at a mechanized door. The door is obviously busted, as bent metal gives way to gnarled and warped wires that spit static sparks into the air. On the other side of this door lies safety, the main hall—the only area where Leon is (relatively) safe in the opening hours of Resident Evil 2.
The Return of Two Classics in Two Different Ways
In a sense, this door is a Rubicon—the barrier between life and death, a doorway to better potentialities. It is a blockage between literal light and dark. There is some room under the door and Leon deems it enough space for him to try and crawl under. The game wrestles control from the player, as a cutscene begins. The camera pulls in close over Leon’s shoulder as he kneels down and begins to shimmy his way under the tight space between the bent and broken door, and the floor. The camera pulls in even closer and only focuses on Leon’s struggle, and in doing so the ever-present sense of claustrophobia manifests itself as Leon’s struggle under the door takes a turn for the worst. He is not alone in his plight.
A hungering zombie appears behind his feet as he still struggles under the door, and the camera glides towards Leon’s face as he realizes the danger he is really in. Though the cutscene takes control away from the player, the cutscene plays out as if the player is still in control, is still subsumed into this world through Leon’s perspective. His face writhes into a portrait of sheer terror and desperation as he begins to wiggle faster and more desperately for freedom, like a mouse in a trap who knows their time left to live is slim at best. The zombie moans and howls and chomps at Leon’s heels and eventually, through sheer will and desperation (and a little help), Leon is freed from the claustrophobic horror that manifested between him, the door, and the floor. A momentary sense of security has been achieved, but at what cost?
A real, palpable sense of claustrophobic fear has just been felt in that scene between the door, the floor, Leon’s struggling body, and the persistent hunger of the epitomal zombie. But why is the moment so viscerally effective in scaring the player and knotting their stomach into a taut ball of dread? It is because it is relatable. We have all felt powerless before, and this scene works precisely because of the powerlessness on display. Leon is stuck between “a rock and a hard place”. His despair is made manifest in the broken door and the zombie, and his will to live is the only thing that keeps himself from being consumed by it. The fact that the scene deliberately wrestles control from the player further exemplifies the importance of powerlessness in order for such a display of claustrophobic fear to work.
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Being stuck in a single tight space, even for a short amount of time, usually elicits fear and the beginnings of a fight or flight mentality in people. And if not, it will at least fill the imagination with some rather haunting “what ifs?”. Well, at least it does for me. I’m not saying that if I got my arm stuck between my bedframe and my wall, that I’d 127 Hours myself, but like, my mind would probably lead to that hypothetical scenario as a coping mechanism. It could be worse. I could be Leon stuck between a door and the floor with a hungered zombie lapping at his feet. He is trapped.
In the moment, his freedom is still undecided. That is where the next layer of spatially aware fear kicks in. Cleithrophobia is the medical term for the fear of being trapped. Claustrophobia can induce it, but they are not entirely related. One can feel trapped in a wide-open, non-confined space. But it is when one feels trapped in a tight space that claustrophobia and cleithrophobia can overlap. The moment with Leon trapped under the door acutely synthesizes the fear and panic that accompanies both conditions in a profoundly unsettling way. Both conditions are often triggered by an anticipatory anxiety, that feeling we have to hold our breath or grip our controller tighter as Leon first works his way under the door because we, the player(s), have a likely idea of what will happen next.
The fear is brutally realized with the death of Edwards.
Consuming horror media conditions one when they should expect a scare. It is up to the object to choose whether to subvert or play in line with what the subject expects. The lack of escape from a tight space builds an expectation in the player that they should feel tense, rapped with dread, and the inclusion of the zombie into this equation only seeks to heighten the tension in horror, all while playing into the hands of the viewer and what they expect.
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Resident Evil 2 does not serve to subvert or heighten the survival horror genre as a medium, but it does want to engage with what can elicit fear. Cinema has often used tight, enclosed spaces and horrors just out of reach to get a specific reaction from the cinema viewer, but videogames rarely play with this motif. Outlast uses this tactic a handful of times, to varying degrees of success and the Metro series is built upon the tenants of claustrophobic dread. Yet, it does not engage with cleithrophobia.
That, precisely, is what makes the “crawling under the door” moment in Resident Evil 2 so, so effective. It chooses to engage with what it means to be a participant in horror, the power structures of control, and it delineates (through action) what differentiates claustrophobia and cleithrophobia, all while knowing that these conditions exist in Venn-diagram-like relationship. And the “crawling under the door” moment cements itself in the overlapping space between the two circles that are the panic and triggers that come part and parcel with the moments that trigger claustrophobic and cleithrophobic reactions.
On July 13th, 2026, the world lost one of its brightest stars.
Beloved New Zealand actor Sam Neill passed away from pneumonia after a long battle with stage 3 lymphoma. The multifaceted movie star will be remembered by mainstream audiences for his iconic role as Dr. Alan Grant in Steven Spielberg’s 1993 masterpiece Jurassic Park, as well as powerful turns in A Cry in the Dark (1988), The Piano (1993), and Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016), and prestige TV series The Tudors and Peaky Blinders. But horror fans know him as one of the genre’s most surprising Scream Kings.
Through a handful of memorable starring roles, Neill spent the 80s and 90s bringing life to a wide variety of characters and finding humanity in the most unusual leading roles, regardless of how heroic or villainous.
The Final Conflict (1981)
After a decade on the stage and screen in New Zealand and Australia, Neill made his international debut as Damien Thorn in Graham Baker’s The Final Conflict, the third installment of The Omen franchise. Now a 36-year-old businessman, Damien is fully aware of his devilish parentage and hell-bent on world domination. But rather than a hooved and horned monstrosity, Neill’s Antichrist is a suave businessman who leads his followers in an expensive suit and seeks to bring about the apocalypse through deceptive altruism rather than grand proclamation.
Despite his austere demeanor, the man’s true evil knows no bounds. When a prophecy foretells the second coming of Christ, known in the film as “the Nazarene,” Damien commands his followers to commit widespread infanticide, murdering all baby boys born on a specific date. He seduces a high-profile reporter while transforming her teenage son into a bloodthirsty disciple, then uses the child as a human shield. This tricky role allows Neill to demonstrate his trademark versatility, easily charming the outside world while dropping his suave mask of normalcy behind closed doors. Though certain aspects of The Final Conflict are admittedly dated, Neill’s performance feels eerily prescient. He’s mastered the heinous portrayal of a politician willing to sell his soul for power that will ultimately bring about the end of the world.
Possession (1981)
Though Andrzej Żuławski’s Possession is often remembered for Isabelle Adjani’s stunning depiction of a woman on the edge, Neill delivers an equally unhinged performance as Mark, a spy returning home from a lengthy assignment in divided Berlin. Upon discovering that his wife Anna (Adjani) wants a divorce, Mark desperately tries to hold his family together even at the expense of her sanity. Filmed the same year as The Final Conflict, Neill dives headfirst into this visceral role, managing to evoke sympathy for the distraught father who becomes ever more desperate to regain control. Inspired by his own divorce, Żuławski resists blaming either party for the separation, instead showing the chaos and heartache that comes in the wake of a family’s dissolution.
Once considered to replace Roger Moore as the next James Bond, Neill has fun with the international spy persona as Żuławski’s plot grows increasingly bizarre. But the skilled actor never lets us forget that Mark is a flawed human being struggling to keep his life from falling apart. A second character emerges in the film’s mesmerizing climax, allowing Neill to lean into full villainy with a glassy-eyed stare that chills to the bone. Now a cult classic, Adjani and Neill bounce off each other’s seething rage, creating one of the most effective cinematic duets in the history of horror.
Jurassic Park (1993)
When Steven Spielberg’s creature feature first hit theaters, Neill was by no means a household name and hardly a traditional leading man. Without the swashbuckling swagger of Harrison Ford, the mega-watt smile of Tom Cruise, or the chiselled jaw of Brad Pitt — all famous action stars of the era — Neill felt like an unconventional choice for this massive role. But he perfectly captures the essence of Grant, an aloof academic who prefers dig sites to fancy fundraisers and social events. Despite an aversion to children, the dinosaur expert finds himself tasked with saving the theme park’s youngest survivors who gradually break down his emotional walls. Grant’s transformation into a courageous caretaker is a landmark deconstruction of traditional gender norms wrapped in the guise of a rugged outdoorsman.
Neill proves to be the perfect action star, effortlessly navigating Spielberg’s stunning set pieces without losing the character’s relatable hook. But perhaps the film’s most touching moment is Neill’s childlike wonder at seeing a dinosaur for the first time. Stunned to speechlessness, he channels the audience’s wondrous joy when Grant first spies a real, live Brachiosaurus. But he seamlessly weaves this infectious awe into serious concerns about the creature’s existence, amplifying the story’s prophetic messaging. Jeff Goldblum may utter the film’s iconic warning, but the duality of Grant’s performance perfectly illustrates the scientific imperative, reminding us that just because we can doesn’t mean we should.
Neill would go on to lead Joe Johnston’s 2001 sequel Jurassic Park III, in which Grant is again tasked with saving a child. In 2022, he would appear in Colin Trevorrow’s legacy sequel Jurassic World Dominion, which merges the franchise’s two distinct eras while bringing the carnage onto mainland shores. Despite turning in strong performances, neither film is able to top the magic of Spielberg’s original or Neill’s captivating performance as the stoic leading man. But his nuanced depiction of Alan Grant inspired a generation of would-be paleontologists and quiet kids who could now see themselves as courageous academics capable of surprising strength.
In the Mouth of Madness (1994)
After catapulting to worldwide fame, Neill returned to horror proper to lead John Carpenter’s mind-bending In the Mouth of Madness. We first meet John Trent (Neill) as he’s dragged, kicking and screaming, into a padded cell. An unknown stretch of time later, he recounts an unbelievable story while covered in protective crosses scrawled into his skin — and the cell’s walls — with black crayon. A private investigator, Trent has been tasked with locating Sutter Cane (Jürgen Prochnow), a world-famous yet elusive genre author whose work has been driving his ravenous readers to disturbing acts of random violence.
A love letter to fans of horror fiction, we delight in watching Trent explore literary easter eggs that lead him down jarring rabbit holes. A late-night road trip takes Trent and Linda Styles (Julie Carmen), an editor for Cane’s publishing house, to a tiny New England hamlet teeming with darkness. While investigating an ominous cathedral on the outskirts of town, Trent realizes that he’s somehow been transported into the author’s interdimensional story and become its unwitting protagonist.
Neill serves as a skeptical everyman and the audience’s conduit through this bizarre tale of literary monsters that find a way to burst through the page. An often overlooked Carpenter film, In the Mouth of Madness spirals into insanity, but Neill keeps us grounded throughout each outlandish twist. A shocking conclusion leaves us gaping at our screens and contemplating our own relationship with horror fiction. After all, does free will truly exist? Or, like Trent, are we merely pawns in someone else’s monstrous creation?
Event Horizon (1997)
One of the scariest movies ever set in space, Paul W.S. Anderson’s Event Horizon builds upon the heroic image Neill established for himself in Jurassic Park. Dr. William Weir (Neill) is a physicist temporarily joining the crew of the Lewis and Clark to assist in their latest rescue mission. Seven years after vanishing without a trace, a spaceship called the Event Horizon has suddenly reappeared near Neptune’s orbit. As the creator of a top-secret gravity drive designed to facilitate faster-than-light travel, Dr. Weir has been sent to explore the ship and find out what happened to its missing crew.
Still haunted by his late wife’s suicide, Dr. Weir is a sympathetic figure, particularly in comparison to the harsh Captain Miller (Laurence Fishburne) who commands the crew of the Lewis and Clark. But Weir’s desperation to return to the infamous ship hides a sinister secret that leads his fellow astronauts to the threshold of hell. Neill’s talent for playing the everyman pays off in spades as the formerly sympathetic widower transforms into a disciple of this frightening dimension. Resembling a long-lost cenobite, Weir claws out his own eyes and prepares to drag the crew into a world consumed with sadistic pain.
Daybreakers (2009)
Neill returns to his Omen roots in Michael and Peter Spierig’s action-packed film as a secretly sinister businessman. But rather than the Antichrist, Charles Bromley (Neill) is a proud vampire convinced of the species’ superiority. With human blood in short supply, Bromley Marks Corp. is working on a synthetic substitute to prevent the human race from impending extinction. While hematologists perfect the formula, Bromley oversees disturbing fields of humans chained to massive machines that systematically harvest their blood.
Neill chills in this sinister role with vampiric yellow eyes, a pale complexion, and subtle fangs. But more upsetting is the fact that he honestly doesn’t believe he’s wrong. Once diagnosed with cancer, Bromley was delighted to find that vampirism would totally reverse his illness and grant him the gift of eternal life. He begged his daughter Alison (Isabel Lucas) to turn alongside him, but she has rejected her father’s controversial choice and is now hunted by his bloodthirsty goons. In a heartbreaking moment of clarity, Bromley brings his daughter to the brink of death, then turns away in disgust when she will not embrace his undead lifestyle.
Daybreakers is a surprisingly thrilling exploration of survival and sustainability. Similar to a plot Damien Thorn would hatch, Bromley’s ultimate plan is to placate the vampire population with synthetic blood while allowing the human population to replenish itself. With a larger stock, he plans to sell authentic humans at a premium, hunting these poor souls to season the meat. Bromley rejects a cure that would reverse the vampiric disease, choosing to enrich himself over saving the world. The strangely captivating villain’s end is a cathartic nightmare and fitting punishment for a wealthy man who places himself above everyone else.
In the Mouth of Madness
While the world may remember Neill for his signature role as a gruff but compassionate paleontologist going head to head with a raging T-Rex, horror fans may picture the versatile actor maniacally rocking back and forth in a filthy Berlin apartment, commanding a boardroom of corporate vampires, disappearing into the darkness of a haunted spaceship, sermonizing to satanists, or giggling over popcorn in a deserted movie theater. Or perhaps you have another favorite role in the beloved actor’s stellar career. But whether he was playing a hero or villain, Neill brought undeniable humanity to every role, redefining our idea of masculinity and the very nature of goodness vs. evil. By bringing such disparate characters to life, Neill challenged audiences with a variety of complex roles, asking us to examine the humanity of each character no matter how flawed or virtuous.
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