Editorials
Why ‘Alan Wake’ is Still Worth Revisiting Over a Decade Later
There’s no shortage of author surrogates in horror fiction. From Stephen King’s numerous fictional writers to the self-insert protagonists of H.P. Lovecraft, this has always been an extremely popular trope, but I don’t think it’s a particularly bad one. Most authors are at their best when writing about what they know, so why not tell stories about storytellers? When used well, these characters can even be more than just a point of view, with their interaction with fiction becoming the heart of the narrative. One of my favorite examples of this is Remedy’s Alan Wake, a game that I consider to be a shining example of the power of interactive storytelling, and one hell of a love-letter to the horror genre.
For those unfamiliar with the game, Alan Wake is a 2010 survival-horror title originally released on the Xbox 360. The game chronicles the struggles of the titular mystery writer Alan Wake as he and his wife travel to Bright Falls, Washington in order to deal with a bad case of writer’s block. Unfortunately for the struggling author, this secluded town has a dark history of swallowing up artists and destroying their lives, something that Wake soon discovers when a reality-altering entity kidnaps his wife and takes over his mind.
One week later, Wake finds himself with amnesia while being pursued by poltergeists, murderous birds, and possessed shadow-people. Arming himself with a flashlight and weapons manifested from a prophetic manuscript that he doesn’t remember writing, Wake attempts to solve the mystery of Bright Falls’ enigmatic past and defeat the eldritch entity that lies deep within Cauldron Lake.
In practice, this means that players explore the town through a series of episodic missions, encountering strange characters, lost manuscript pages, and hordes of the “Taken” (former townsfolk corrupted by the Dark Presence). In a clever twist, most of the games’ enemies are invulnerable until you wear them down with your battery-powered flashlight, resulting in an added level of resource management when dealing with foes. While the game’s fast-paced combat and thrilling set-pieces make it feel more like an atmospheric third-person shooter rather than a traditional survival-horror title, the thematic elements make this one of the best horror experiences of the 7th console generation, and the clear result of a passion project.
I guess the flashlight is mightier than the sword.
Sam Lake (creative director of Remedy and the literal face of the Max Payne franchise) originally envisioned Alan Wake as an ambitious open-world survival game, with Bright Falls designed to be fully explorable as players dealt with side missions, collectibles, and dynamic enemy encounters. Due to a fast-approaching deadline and fatal performance issues (some of which would only be resolved with the eventual PC port in 2012), the game was eventually reworked into a more focused episodic adventure in order to preserve the story.
Luckily for us, these story elements are what makes Alan Wake stand out, with a respectable pedigree of narrative inspirations backing up an already-engaging mystery. Stephen King and H.P. Lovecraft are mentioned throughout the game (the opening cutscene actually begins with a quote from King), but media like Mark Z. Danielewski’s revolutionary House of Leaves and David Lynch’s Twin Peaks are also referenced, making for an enjoyable smorgasbord of metatextual storytelling.
Facing enemies that could have come straight out of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and flocks of Hitchcockian killer birds, the player eventually realizes that these moments are more than just casual references, as the intertextual elements of the narrative slowly become a driving force in the game’s plot. As the story goes on, we realize that Wake is weaponizing genre fiction in order to combat the existential horrors of the beyond, with the plot musing on the real-world cost of scary-stories and why we need them.
While this would have been entertaining enough as a movie or TV show, videogames are uniquely suited to meta elements due to the addition of another essential character (namely you, the player). Games like Metal Gear Solid 2 and even Hotline Miami take advantage of their interactive elements in order to question reality, and Alan Wake does this really well. At a certain point in the story, it’s even implied that Wake might be writing you playing him so that he may achieve his goals.
It doesn’t get more meta than that!
In fact, the story justifies a lot of the title’s game-y elements, from Wake describing his unlikely finding of random weapon caches and convenient passageways to his newfound action-hero bravado despite never having shot anyone before. This all comes together to form a unique interactive experience with only a handful of imperfections.
Even with all these genre references and elements of cosmic horror, Alan Wake is surprisingly devoid of in-game frights. The shooting is consistently fun, but once you master the dodge mechanics and hoard a certain amount of batteries, the Taken start to feel more like a trivial nuisance rather than terrifying obstacles. The Dark Presence itself is also a bit too vague to be more than a conceptual threat, but Remedy’s unique cinematic flare makes it easy to overlook these blemishes.
Testing the waters before diving head-first into hybrid productions like Quantum Break (originally meant to be an Alan Wake sequel) and Control (which actively references the Bright Falls incident), Alan Wake features some live-action elements that further flesh out the story and setting. You can actually find and watch full episodes of a fictional Twilight-Zone-inspired TV show called “Night Springs” within the game world, and Remedy actually commissioned a prequel Web-Series alongside a couple of books and comics in order to promote the game. All this supplemental material is just further proof that the developers were just as passionate about creating this story as the fans are in dissecting it.
The high production value extends to the character-work and performances, with Matthew Porretta‘s compelling narration and Ilkka Villi‘s stoic demeanor bringing Alan to life as a believable protagonist. The soundtrack also kicks ass, featuring licensed hits and a handful of original songs that actually exist within the game world, affecting the story. This all culminates in a surprisingly moving (albeit tragic) finale that I highly recommend readers experience for themselves before reading the rest of this article.
You have to earn your happy ending!
While the end of the main game sees Wake trapped within the Dark Place after having contained the evil of Cauldron Lake, the character would return in a couple of DLC episodes and a bizarre standalone title dubbed Alan Wake’s American Nightmare. While the DLC merely establishes that Wake must continue to use his writing skills to keep the Dark Presence trapped, American Nightmare is a different beast altogether. Caught in a Donnie-Darko-esque time-loop, Wake becomes entangled in an over-the-top episode of Night Springs as he attempts to thwart an evil doppelganger from taking his place in the real world.
These additions may have been a fun distraction for fans, especially the tongue-in-cheek nihilism of American Nightmare, but they mostly teased a sequel that never really came to fruition. It was only a decade after the original game that Control would offer us the concrete promise of a follow-up through its AWE add-on (which features Wake as a prominent character, with Porretta and Villi reprising their role), though it remains to be seen how exactly this will pan out.
Even if we never get a true sequel, I honestly appreciate the idea of a troubled author trapped in eternal limbo, being forced to write forever in order to fight back the dark. In a way, Wake’s predicament reminds me of H.P. Lovecraft’s highly underrated The Music of Erich Zann, a short story where an aging violist is forced to perform his art every night in order to keep the eldritch forces of the universe at bay. Wake may have met a more merciful fate than Zann, but I think both of these stories carry a universal truth about how we perceive art and those who make it.
That’s why I think Alan Wake is still worth revisiting even over a decade later. While bigger (and arguably better) games have come and gone since this tale was first told, Alan Wake still serves as a testament to the potential of videogame storytelling and remains a landmark in horror gaming. Times may have changed, but it’s nice to know that Wake is still out there somewhere, writing to keep the fabric of the universe intact. Though I have a strange feeling that we’ll be returning to Bright Falls soon enough…
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
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