Editorials
Grave Robbing and Grisly Creatures: The Horror Elements of 1996’s ‘Tomb Raider’ Video Game
Even non-gamers are aware of the massive cultural impact that 1996’s Tomb Raider had on media. Not only did Eidos Interactive’s iconic release revolutionize adventure narratives in gaming, updating the simple thrills of titles like Pitfall into a truly immersive interactive experience, but it also gifted us with one of pop culture’s most recognizable characters through Lara Croft, a badass gaming mascot who is still holding her own against gun-toting super-soldiers and Italian plumbers in the year of our lord 2022.
Though the series has come a long way since the 90s, breaking boundaries with over a dozen mainline sequels, reboots and even a handful of cinematic adaptations (none of which were masterpieces but are still entertaining for a myriad of different reasons), there’s one aspect of the original game that rarely gets the attention it deserves despite being a crucial part of Tomb Raider’s overwhelming success.
Naturally, I’m referring to the game’s surprising amount of horror elements. While Tomb Raider is by no means a definitive example of survival-horror, the game has an undeniable affinity for scary imagery and takes advantage of genre tropes to make the experience more memorable. And even a quarter century after the release of this early 3D classic, I think its polygonal scares are effective enough to still be worth talking about.
Right off the bat, Tomb Raider‘s presentation and central gameplay loop is very reminiscent of early survival-horror titles. The premise alone is chilling enough, with players accompanying a solitary protagonist who finds herself in isolated caverns and catacombs, beset by death on all sides and forced to rely only on her wits and clunky tank-like combat controls to survive. Hell, from the introductory wolf attack to the gory death-traps that await novice players unfamiliar with the peculiar control scheme, the only thing keeping this from turning into an outright horror game is Lara’s nonchalant demeanor and her willingness to embark on terrifying adventures in order to explore.
Not exactly a Summer Vacation.
While the aforementioned tank-like movement may not necessarily have been an artistic choice on the developer’s part (after all, these were the early days of three-dimensional gaming, so it’s not like there were that many options), there’s no denying that the added difficulty makes these death-defying jumps and enemy ambushes all the more terrifying. In fact, a simple glance at the game’s modernized sequels and reboots is enough to realize that many of the original title’s thrills are no longer as effective now that Lara is capable of more naturalistic movement and combat thanks to easier platforming and traditional third-person shooter controls.
Some creative level design also contributed to a certain feeling of helplessness that permeates the experience. The perilous areas of Tomb Raider may have been designed in grid-like patterns in order to facilitate three-dimensional navigation, but these geometric labyrinths still contain plenty of unexpected deaths lurking around every corner. Fans of the title are sure to remember the game’s many surprise impalements and borderline unfair trap placement, and that’s not even mentioning the often-grueling combat.
While most enemy encounters consist of awkwardly mowing down endangered animals in claustrophobic environments, panic-shooting a rabid bear as you use stiff controls to narrowly avoid its deadly claws is honestly way more thrilling than it initially sounds. I dare you not to mumble “oh shit” to yourself the first time that you stumble onto a giant T-Rex and realize that you’re woefully unequipped to deal with this prehistoric threat. If you think about it, the only thing keeping Tomb Raider from embracing full-on survival horror combat is the unlimited ammo and lack of melee weapons, though the game still makes clever use of classic inventory management and scarce health packs.
Shooting up dinosaurs like a 1930s Willis O’Brien movie is admittedly more fun than terrifying, but there’s no denying the monster movie influences that makes these moments so entertaining in the first place. The game really takes a scary turn when it begins to introduce supernatural threats like fleshy Atlanteans and undead centaurs into the mix. Sure, the primitive graphics leave a lot to the imagination, but I think that’s precisely why these eerie monster designs are so effective, letting players fill in the gruesome gaps in their own heads.
Would this really be scarier in HD?
The horror aesthetics don’t stop with the grisly creatures, as Tomb Raider’s titular grave-robbing has Lara venture into spooky locations brought to life by the clever use of minimalist polygons and expertly mixed ambience tracks. While Nathan McCree’s memorable soundtrack is used sparingly, it helps to convey an appropriate sense of fear and awe.
Additionally, the final areas of the game feature a series of nightmarish designs that would have been right at home in a Silent Hill spin-off. The hellish imagery present in the Atlantean levels borders on H.P. Lovecraft, bringing to mind the archeological terror of stories like The Shadow Out of Time or even At the Mountains of Madness. Some of the game’s fleshy textures and other scary elements were actually toned down for the 2006 remake Tomb Raider Anniversary, which streamlined gameplay but is otherwise a relatively faithful recreation of the original experience.
While future Tomb Raider games would still lean into the horror aspects of Lara’s globe-trotting adventures, I firmly believe that none of them quite managed to balance the fun/scare ratio as well as the first game. The way I see it, the sequels made Lara too much of a badass for players to really fear for her well-being, and the recent reboot trilogy made the supernatural horror elements trivial due to the streamlined gameplay (despite making an effort to actually humanize our protagonist). This also extends to the movie adaptations, which have always focused on Raiders-of-the-Lost-Ark-inspired romps and CGI-infused spectacle despite the first game feeling more in line with the scary thrills of The Temple of Doom.
However, with Square Enix supposedly moving forward with a new take on the franchise (which is rumored to feature an older and more experienced Lara) and a new movie in the works now that MGM has lost the license to the IP, I think there’s a chance that a future title might bring back some of the original game’s spooky magic. After all, having the Lady Croft overcome historical horrors makes her action-packed take on archeology all the more entertaining – not to mention badass.
Auteur Filmmaking is a term that gets thrown around a lot these days in reference to big name directors like Quentin Tarantino and even Wes Anderson, but the truth is that film is a collective medium, and no one person can be responsible for every single aspect of a particular production. However, the smaller a film’s budget, the bigger the individual impact of every creative decision behind it – and the easier it becomes to identify a genuine auteur.
This isn’t necessarily a judgement of value, as blockbuster filmmaking comes with its own challenges and a good movie remains a miracle regardless of how big the crew is, but I’ve always been more interested in soulful b-movies produced by handfuls of passionate artists than blockbusters backed by creative armies.
That’s why I love exploring low-budget franchises that never left the hands of their original creators, as you really get to know the artists involved with these flicks and can accompany their evolution over a period of time. With that in mind, I’d like to invite readers to join me in this multi-part series as we look into a vampire saga helmed by one of the most fascinating auteurs of the 1990s. Naturally, I’m referring to Ted Nicolaou’s criminally underrated Subspecies!
The Birth of an Unlikely Horror Franchise
A proud graduate of the University of Texas’ Film program, Nicolaou got his start in the industry as a sound technician working on Tobe Hooper’s original Texas Chain Saw Massacre. From there, the filmmaker would go on to work for notorious indie producer Charles Band, the founder of both Empire Pictures and Full Moon Productions. According to Nicolaou, Band would usually contact him with an offer to direct a feature after more prominent filmmakers, such as the late, great Stuart Gordon, had already refused, meaning that his projects tended to have lower budgets and more inexperienced crew members.
The plans for Subspecies began almost immediately after the fall of Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu, with screenwriter David Pabian turning in an initial draft of the film after a Romanian producer contacted Band and explained that Romanian tax incentives could cover the cost of film production there so long as Full Moon took care of the post-production process. Since Stuart Gordon was unwilling to travel to Romania, Ted Nicolaou ended up taking over the picture.
However, while the financial incentives meant that this Romanian-American co-production could look and feel much more expensive than it really was, with Nicolaou scouting for locations in advance and selecting real castle ruins to be featured in the movie, the director was soon faced with an incredibly difficult shooting process. In interviews, Nicolaou would later describe the experience as something of a nightmare, with language barriers and the generalized distrust of capitalist outsiders sabotaging many of the team’s plans for the film.
In fact, the script, which had already been altered by Band, ultimately had portions of it rewritten by both Jack Canson and Nicolaou himself in an attempt to adapt the story to their unique limitations.
Radu Is One of Horror’s Greatest Underrated Villains
In the finished film, which was released directly to video in 1991, we follow a pair of American anthropology students, Michelle (Laura Mae Tate) and Lillian (Michelle McBride), as they reunite with their Romanian colleague Mara (Irina Movila) in her native land. The group intends to study the folklore surrounding the secluded town of Prejmer, but their research is cut short by the return of Radu Vladislas (Anders Hove) – the evil son of a vampire king (Angus Scrimm) who had previously established a truce with the region’s human residents. It’s now up to Radu’s human-loving half-brother Stefan (Michael Watson) to protect the girls from a fate worse than death as the power-hungry vampire seeks to control a magical artifact known as the Bloodstone.
Right off the bat, you may have noticed that the film’s premise sounds decidedly old-fashioned when compared to other vampire movies from around the same time. While the 1990s saw the rise of cool-looking bloodsuckers with badass elements borrowed from Westerns, as well as the sexy aristocrats of Anne Rice’s stories, Subspecies has a lot more in common with Nosferatu and the Hammer Horror series than any of its contemporaries.
This is both a blessing and a curse, as the film falls victim to overly familiar genre tropes while also standing out as a rare example of a ’90s vampire flick that isn’t afraid to flex its muscles as a Creature Feature. In fact, I’d argue that the presence of age-old clichés is a small price to pay when confronted with one of the most compelling vampire antagonists in all of cinema.
Named after Vlad the Impaler’s real-life brother, Anders Hove’s Radu is such a fascinating character and the main reason why Subspecies is still worth watching 35 years later. From his animalistic mannerisms to the joy he feels in simply existing as a chaotic creature of the night, and that’s not even mentioning the iconic makeup that almost certainly inspired the undead from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Radu is a hypnotic presence harkening back to a time when audiences didn’t mind purely evil villains that couldn’t be redeemed through tragic backstories or sex appeal.
Gothic Atmosphere on an Indie Budget
Of course, the film’s Romanian setting and authentic art direction do a lot of the heavy lifting whenever Radu isn’t around. From the masked festivals of the village to the visually interesting selection of local extras, Subspecies’ multicultural elements help it to stand out when compared to similar flicks from the ’90s.
That being said, Nicolaou’s unique eye for special effects and exciting action sequences – as well as Vlad Paunescu’s excellent cinematography – make the movie a delight for fans of expressionist cinema and old-timey gothic horror. While the crew is obviously dealing with limited resources, many of the flick’s blemishes (such as the odd stop-motion demons that serve Radu) end up feeling more like charming idiosyncrasies than actual flaws.
I’d argue that the only real issue here is pacing, as there are long stretches of film where the protagonists are simply bumbling around without realizing what’s really going on around them. Thankfully, the gorgeous visuals and surprisingly effective soundtrack usually make up for this. Besides, how can you dislike a movie where shotgun shells are loaded with rosary beads and our lead vampires duke it out in a dramatic swordfight that would feel out of place during the golden age of Hollywood?
Your overall enjoyment of Subspecies will mostly depend on whether or not you find low-budget corner-cutting and janky practical effects charming rather than distracting, but I know I’ll keep coming back to this Full Moon feature again and again in the future.
That being said, while this first movie is worth revisiting by its own merits as the birth of an indie horror icon, I’d like to invite you to join us as we look into the cult sequel Bloodstone: Subspecies II soon.
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