Connect with us

Editorials

The Incomprehensible Horror of ‘Dead Space’

Published

on

Horror comes in many guises and forms, with many takes on the genre feeding off of our own personal fears and aversions. From the guts and gore of splatter cinema to eerie tellings of the paranormal, there’s plenty of ways to harvest the screams of fear-loving fans. There is, however, one guaranteed method of unnerving even the most hardened terror enthusiasts – by presenting them with a threat that they can’t quite figure out.

The 2008 survival horror game Dead Space may draw influence from various other space-fueled fright-fests, but it also gave birth to one of the most horrifying creatures to inhabit the stars above, in the form of the Necromorph. While many might simply interpret Dead Space’s gaggle of grotesque hostiles to be mere alien zombies, the true nature of the Necromorph is obscured by its disconcerting disposition, comprising of incomprehensible body horror and a fear of the unknown. 

We’ve all been there, seemingly safe within the confines of our bed before opening our eyes to a weird entity in the corner of the room. Sure, there’s nothing scary about a jacket draped over a chair, apart from potentially your fashion sense, but when your brain is drowning in darkness and deprived of visual information, that chair is a threat. This kind of sensory trepidation is exactly what the Necromorph thrives upon, inhibiting your brain from attaching a schema to the horror that it witnesses.

Horror monsters are usually very easy to describe, mostly due to the fact that their factual influence and fictional lore has been preconceived. Our old friends – the vampire, werewolf, and extraterrestrial – might not always walk around playing an intimidating version of The Name Game, but there’s usually enough information present to inform us of what’s trying to munch us. Even some of the genre’s more obscure beings, such as Xenomorphs, are labeled by the title of the film they reside within. Alternatively, Necromorphs illustrate themselves through mutilation, creating difficulty when it comes to perceiving its barely humanoid form.

At a glance, a Necromorph appears to be a figure of pulverized flesh and twisted bone, that is until your eyes begin to adjust to the deadly details. As you count the extra limbs and notice the creature’s fondness for scythe-like appendages, it becomes ever clearer that this isn’t just a reanimated corpse. Just like the visual panic experienced with a night terror, it’s hard to digest the dangers before you, with the caveat this time being that you’re not just seeing things. There is no rhyme or reason to the makeup of the Necromorph, with it being less of a species and more of a bastardized use of the previously living.

Despite the Necromorph not belonging to the natural world, the creature does wield the ability to implement its own twisted version of Darwinism. There’s a variety of flavors of Necromorph lurking within Dead Space; from the sharp vanilla of the welcoming party to the sickly aftertaste of encountering a necrotic infant, you’re sure to be spoiled for choice. The fact that the Necromorph has multiple manifestations adds to the angst of deciphering what they are, especially when morbid curiosity is lost within the sheer panic of survival. 

In typical video game fashion, Dead Space is complicit in instructing you on how to fight off its in-game nasties. This is usually something that would solicit comfort in players, as after all – if it bleeds, we can kill it. Unfortunately, this mantra falls flat when it comes to Necromorphs, as the destruction of their blood-soaked bodies contradicts everything that we know about fighting the undead. The blood-smeared advice telling us to “Cut off their limbs” is simultaneously helpful and harrowing, as the well-aimed headshot you’re accustomed to will likely this time lead to your demise. 

The Necromorph might go against conventional game mechanics, but visceral degradation being at the core of an antagonist is a recurring theme within various pieces of cinema. It’s common knowledge that Dead Space creator, Glen Schofield, was heavily influenced by the likes of Event Horizon, a film that features the mutilation of a crew after boarding a corrupted spacecraft, due to the fact it went to Hell for a day trip. The diabolical dread of Event Horizon imbues itself with the idea of science beyond our comprehension, a theme which is tightly shared with the narrative of Dead Space as a whole. While witnessing beloved dino-doctor Sam Neil gouge his eyes out is unmistakable body horror, it perhaps isn’t as close to what is portrayed in Dead Space as we’d like to think. 

There’s a bounty of comparisons that can be drawn between Event Horizon and Dead Space, with plenty to explore in terms of the horrors of being entrapped and driven to insanity within deep space. However, when it comes to the Necromorph, there are various pockets of influential body horror that better fit the bill. Of course, when it comes to horrific transformations, it’d be foolish to omit the work of Cronenberg and his stomach-churning remake of The Fly, as it is one of the truest forms of body horror within the world of cinema. Yet, The Fly still seems to fall outside the realms of what is on display in Dead Space, as even though vomit-inducing, viewers are still aware that they’re gazing upon a Goldblum-bluebottle hybrid.

The key to finding an appropriate comparative when it comes to the Necromorph is found within the theme of incomprehension. This is when it becomes more appropriate to compare the likes of John Carpenter’s The Thing, which features a shape-shifting lifeform that absorbs its victims. As the film title suggests, this creature is a non-descript abomination that makes identifying it near impossible through obscurity. The Thing’s tactic of warping the DNA of others and using their reconstructed flesh as a weapon bears a close resemblance to the Necromorph, with both placing an emphasis on the aggressive use of transformation. 

Sticking with the theme of the incomprehensible, various works of Lovecraft-inspired fiction also bear resemblance to the horrors found within Dead Space. Cult classics such as From Beyond perfectly illustrate the merged worlds of eldritch horror and the folly of tampering with unknown science. After using a resonator device, in an attempt to see beyond our reality, two scientists find themselves under attack from otherworldly beings, resulting in degradation of both their sanity and the physical form. With character Dr Edward Pretorius serving as this flick’s antagonist, we see his body transition into something unnatural, complete with tentacles and extended limbs. The type of transformation found within From Beyond is perhaps a bit more complex than with our Necromorph friends, yet retains the same visually indecipherable results.

Another great example of Lovecraft-influenced fiction that’s comparable with Dead Space is the work of Junji Ito, who has penned various manga novels that feature perverse body horror and grueling art style. The transformations featured in these books are unnerving to look at, with the result again leading to the reader struggling to comprehend the creature on the page. Ito’s work may not be based on sci-fi, yet the book Spiral features a plague-like pandemic that distorts both the bodies and minds of a small town, which is something of a dead ringer when compared to the events that take place in Dead Space.

You’d expect most comparative examples to the Necromorph to be morbid and gritty, yet one of the strongest body horror resemblances can be found in Slither, a black comedy horror by James Gunn. While the film does have a humorous overtone throughout, this tale of a small community being infected by alien slugs features some of the most putrid examples of body horror in existence. From glutenous bloating to slime-coated masses of tentacles, Slither demonstrates a similar variety in its monstrosities that Dead Space facilitates with its own gnarly nasties. 

For many, the Necromorph is always going to just simply be an intergalactic zombie, but if you’re willing to look past the vague tropes that horror sometimes presents us with, they’re much worse. The Necromorph’s incomprehensible nature is crucial to the impactful horror that Dead Space wishes to bestow upon its players, using its unsettling composition as a weapon. Just like the other horror creatures that they’re akin to, Necromorphs represent a disturbing sub-type of threat, one that leaves you little time to decipher before tearing into your flesh. When paired with the already horrifying ordeal of navigating the derelict USG Ishimura, Necromorph’s become one of the most iconic horror video game enemies of all time – even though their sense of style will put you off your dinner.

Editorials

‘A Haunted House’ and the Death of the Horror Spoof Movie

Published

on

Due to a complex series of anthropological mishaps, the Wayans Brothers are a huge deal in Brazil. Around these parts, White Chicks is considered a national treasure by a lot of people, so it stands to reason that Brazilian audiences would continue to accompany the Wayans’ comedic output long after North America had stopped taking them seriously as comedic titans.

This is the only reason why I originally watched Michael Tiddes and Marlon Wayans’ 2013 horror spoof A Haunted House – appropriately known as “Paranormal Inactivity” in South America – despite having abandoned this kind of movie shortly after the excellent Scary Movie 3. However, to my complete and utter amazement, I found myself mostly enjoying this unhinged parody of Found Footage films almost as much as the iconic spoofs that spear-headed the genre during the 2000s. And with Paramount having recently announced a reboot of the Scary Movie franchise, I think this is the perfect time to revisit the divisive humor of A Haunted House and maybe figure out why this kind of film hasn’t been popular in a long time.

Before we had memes and internet personalities to make fun of movie tropes for free on the internet, parody movies had been entertaining audiences with meta-humor since the very dawn of cinema. And since the genre attracted large audiences without the need for a serious budget, it made sense for studios to encourage parodies of their own productions – which is precisely what happened with Miramax when they commissioned a parody of the Scream franchise, the original Scary Movie.

The unprecedented success of the spoof (especially overseas) led to a series of sequels, spin-offs and rip-offs that came along throughout the 2000s. While some of these were still quite funny (I have a soft spot for 2008’s Superhero Movie), they ended up flooding the market much like the Guitar Hero games that plagued video game stores during that same timeframe.

You could really confuse someone by editing this scene into Paranormal Activity.

Of course, that didn’t stop Tiddes and Marlon Wayans from wanting to make another spoof meant to lampoon a sub-genre that had been mostly overlooked by the Scary Movie series – namely the second wave of Found Footage films inspired by Paranormal Activity. Wayans actually had an easier time than usual funding the picture due to the project’s Found Footage presentation, with the format allowing for a lower budget without compromising box office appeal.

In the finished film, we’re presented with supposedly real footage recovered from the home of Malcom Johnson (Wayans). The recordings themselves depict a series of unexplainable events that begin to plague his home when Kisha Davis (Essence Atkins) decides to move in, with the couple slowly realizing that the difficulties of a shared life are no match for demonic shenanigans.

In practice, this means that viewers are subjected to a series of familiar scares subverted by wacky hijinks, with the flick featuring everything from a humorous recreation of the iconic fan-camera from Paranormal Activity 3 to bizarre dance numbers replacing Katy’s late-night trances from Oren Peli’s original movie.

Your enjoyment of these antics will obviously depend on how accepting you are of Wayans’ patented brand of crass comedy. From advanced potty humor to some exaggerated racial commentary – including a clever moment where Malcom actually attempts to move out of the titular haunted house because he’s not white enough to deal with the haunting – it’s not all that surprising that the flick wound up with a 10% rating on Rotten Tomatoes despite making a killing at the box office.

However, while this isn’t my preferred kind of humor, I think the inherent limitations of Found Footage ended up curtailing the usual excesses present in this kind of parody, with the filmmakers being forced to focus on character-based comedy and a smaller scale story. This is why I mostly appreciate the love-hate rapport between Kisha and Malcom even if it wouldn’t translate to a healthy relationship in real life.

Of course, the jokes themselves can also be pretty entertaining on their own, with cartoony gags like the ghost getting high with the protagonists (complete with smoke-filled invisible lungs) and a series of silly The Exorcist homages towards the end of the movie. The major issue here is that these legitimately funny and genre-specific jokes are often accompanied by repetitive attempts at low-brow humor that you could find in any other cheap comedy.

Not a good idea.

Not only are some of these painfully drawn out “jokes” incredibly unfunny, but they can also be remarkably offensive in some cases. There are some pretty insensitive allusions to sexual assault here, as well as a collection of secondary characters defined by negative racial stereotypes (even though I chuckled heartily when the Latina maid was revealed to have been faking her poor English the entire time).

Cinephiles often claim that increasingly sloppy writing led to audiences giving up on spoof movies, but the fact is that many of the more beloved examples of the genre contain some of the same issues as later films like A Haunted House – it’s just that we as an audience have (mostly) grown up and are now demanding more from our comedy. However, this isn’t the case everywhere, as – much like the Elves from Lord of the Rings – spoof movies never really died, they simply diminished.

A Haunted House made so much money that they immediately started working on a second one that released the following year (to even worse reviews), and the same team would later collaborate once again on yet another spoof, 50 Shades of Black. This kind of film clearly still exists and still makes a lot of money (especially here in Brazil), they just don’t have the same cultural impact that they used to in a pre-social-media-humor world.

At the end of the day, A Haunted House is no comedic masterpiece, failing to live up to the laugh-out-loud thrills of films like Scary Movie 3, but it’s also not the trainwreck that most critics made it out to be back in 2013. Comedy is extremely subjective, and while the raunchy humor behind this flick definitely isn’t for everyone, I still think that this satirical romp is mostly harmless fun that might entertain Found Footage fans that don’t take themselves too seriously.

Continue Reading