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‘Fatal Frame III: The Tormented’ – The J-Horror Nightmares of an Overlooked Sequel

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From “Real Ghost Footage” compilations on YouTube to staged ectoplasmic photographs, our species has been fascinated with attempting to record the supernatural ever since it first became possible to do so. I mean, spirit photography was popularized almost immediately after the first camera was invented, so it makes sense that we’re still chasing spirits from behind the safety of a lens well into the new millennium. Naturally, this obsession with the paranormal would eventually find its way to video games, with one specific survival horror franchise turning haunted cameras into the basis for an interactive J-horror experience.

Often referred to as some of the scariest Survival Horror titles ever released, Fatal Frame I and II are almost universally recognized as classics even by those who’ve never played them. However, this love doesn’t extend to the third installment in Tecmo’s iconic series, with The Tormented often being overlooked when fans discuss the highlights of the franchise.

I only bring this up because I’ve recently finished replaying Fatal Frame III: The Tormented for the first time in years, and while I once agreed that it was the weakest game in the original trilogy, I’ve since come to the conclusion that the title is just as scary as its predecessors – only stumbling when it comes to a handful of structural issues as it attempts to explore the (literal) nightmarish horror of facing grief and your own mortality.

And in order to understand why this title has more up its ghostly sleeve than you might initially realize, I think it’s worth diving into the history of this digital black sheep. Work on The Tormented began before Crimson Butterfly was even completed, with series director Makoto Shibata wanting to provide the PS2 with a terrifyingly beautiful swansong before the release of the PS3. However, after two action-packed titles, Shibata and his team wanted to this proposed final entry to feel more mature and deliberately paced, telling a more emotional story and placing the characters in a realm completely controlled by the spirits of the dead.

Of course, you can only explore the same haunted mansions so many times before the experience gets stale, so the developers decided to take a more mature abstract approach when justifying this return to the world of kimono-clad haunts and gamified jump-scares. Taking inspiration from films like Ringu and even A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Tormented transforms the exploration of a liminal hellscape into a nightly ritual that its characters can’t escape.

The only game series where subjecting yourself to a jump-scare allows you to deal extra damage!

In the finished game, players take control of a trio of unlucky characters who find themselves forced to visit the haunted “Manor of Sleep” in their dreams after seeing visions of deceased loved ones. As the nights go on, Rei, Miku and Kei explore this horrific dreamscape and discover that this curse will soon consume them if they can’t solve the mystery of the Kuze Shrine and the strange rituals that created this rift between the world of the living and the dead.

On paper, this sounds like a worthy sequel to Tecmo’s previous endeavors, with the game retaining the solid gameplay loop of scrounging for key items while defending yourself with the iconic Camera Obscura, which allows you to fight these ghosts with the aid of supernatural film stock and a quick trigger finger. In fact, the moment-to-moment experience of playing through The Tormented is downright impeccable, as the title even goes so far as to make the combat more engaging by adding more equipment and enhanced ghost AI– and that’s not even mentioning the legitimately chilling narrative powering the experience.

The real problem here comes in the form of pacing. The episodic nature of the story means that our protagonists are constantly moving back and forth between the dream world and the real world, resulting in frustrating stops and starts just as things are starting to get interesting. This is made even more infuriating due to an overreliance on backtracking, with the player frequently being forced to embark on completely unnecessary resource-draining journeys just to get back to where they were at the end of the previous dream sequence.

And while I concede that backtracking is a long-standing staple of the survival horror genre, a game should at least let players know what exactly they’re looking for as they trek through labyrinthian environments – something that Fatal Frame III often refuses to do. From obtuse hints to unpredictable scripted moments that must be triggered in order to progress, it’s hard to truly enjoy this title without a proper guide explaining things that should already have been made clear by the developers.

That being said, a genuine desire to see this story through to the end does wonders for motivation as you’re forced to deal with these inconveniences. I mean, there’s something to be said about the epistolary terror of piecing together the manor’s sordid history as you conduct research in “real life” and read diary entries in your dreams, with players slowly uncovering the tragic identity of the ghosts you’ve been battling on a nightly basis. Honestly, there are plenty of genre treats to be found here if you’re willing to wade through some poor structuring.

These ghosts better not bother the cat!

For example, I absolutely love how the ghosts start to appear in the safety of your own home as the curse takes its toll, with these subtle scares harkening back to the domestic horror of Silent Hill 4 and reminding you that there is no escape. Sure, I think Tecmo could have done a bit more with the real life portion of the game, but there’s no denying that this was a great first step in making this threequel stand out from the rest of the series.

It’s also worth noting how much work went into crafting the title’s perfectly unsettling atmosphere, with the dingy textures and highly detailed models bringing the PS2’s hardware to its absolute limits as the game attempts to depict a wintery wasteland. In fact, the ruined mansion itself looks just real enough to feel architecturally sound while also operating on enough dream logic to make you constantly uneasy as you traverse its hallways – something that’s made even spookier due to the game’s consistently unnerving music and sound design.

I also really appreciate the interconnected nature of these environments, with pathways folding in on themselves and often revealing shortcuts in ways that are sure to help any potential speed-runners. The fact that the entirety of the map can technically be explored in an hour or two means that things start to feel repetitive by the end of the experience, but I know that the layout of this cursed mansion will remain burned into my brain for years to come, which I think is a sure sign of great level design.

Fatal Frame III isn’t as polished as its predecessors, suffering from a plethora of minor inconveniences and often feeling excessively player-unfriendly, but it’s certainly not a bad game. From its compelling plot to its masterful use of carefully orchestrated scares, this is still one of the best survival horror experiences of the 2000s even if it can’t quite compete with the likes of Crimson Butterfly. That’s why I’d argue that the Manor of Sleep is still worth revisiting nearly two decades later if you’re a fan of slow-burn J-horror and eerie ghost designs.

Just be sure to bring plenty of film along for the ride.

Born Brazilian, raised Canadian, Luiz is a writer and Film student that spends most of his time watching movies and subsequently complaining about them.

Editorials

What’s Wrong with My Baby!? Larry Cohen’s ‘It’s Alive’ at 50

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Netflix It's Alive

Soon after the New Hollywood generation took over the entertainment industry, they started having children. And more than any filmmakers that came before—they were terrified. Rosemary’s Baby (1968), The Exorcist (1973), The Omen (1976), Eraserhead (1977), The Brood (1979), The Shining (1980), Possession (1981), and many others all deal, at least in part, with the fears of becoming or being a parent. What if my child turns out to be a monster? is corrupted by some evil force? or turns out to be the fucking Antichrist? What if I screw them up somehow, or can’t help them, or even go insane and try to kill them? Horror has always been at its best when exploring relatable fears through extreme circumstances. A prime example of this is Larry Cohen’s 1974 monster-baby movie It’s Alive, which explores the not only the rollercoaster of emotions that any parent experiences when confronted with the difficulties of raising a child, but long-standing questions of who or what is at fault when something goes horribly wrong.

Cohen begins making his underlying points early in the film as Frank Davis (John P. Ryan) discusses the state of the world with a group of expectant fathers in a hospital waiting room. They discuss the “overabundance of lead” in foods and the environment, smog, and pesticides that only serve to produce roaches that are “bigger, stronger, and harder to kill.” Frank comments that this is “quite a world to bring a kid into.” This has long been a discussion point among people when trying to decide whether to have kids or not. I’ve had many conversations with friends who have said they feel it’s irresponsible to bring children into such a violent, broken, and dangerous world, and I certainly don’t begrudge them this. My wife and I did decide to have children but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy.

Immediately following this scene comes It’s Alive’s most famous sequence in which Frank’s wife Lenore (Sharon Farrell) is the only person left alive in her delivery room, the doctors clawed and bitten to death by her mutant baby, which has escaped. “What does my baby look like!? What’s wrong with my baby!?” she screams as nurses wheel her frantically into a recovery room. The evening that had begun with such joy and excitement at the birth of their second child turned into a nightmare. This is tough for me to write, but on some level, I can relate to this whiplash of emotion. When my second child was born, they came about five weeks early. I’ll use the pronouns “they/them” for privacy reasons when referring to my kids. Our oldest was still very young and went to stay with my parents and we sped off to the hospital where my wife was taken into an operating room for an emergency c-section. I was able to carry our newborn into the NICU (natal intensive care unit) where I was assured that this was routine for all premature births. The nurses assured me there was nothing to worry about and the baby looked big and healthy. I headed to where my wife was taken to recover to grab a few winks assuming that everything was fine. Well, when I awoke, I headed back over to the NICU to find that my child was not where I left them. The nurse found me and told me that the baby’s lungs were underdeveloped, and they had to put them in a special room connected to oxygen tubes and wires to monitor their vitals.

It’s difficult to express the fear that overwhelmed me in those moments. Everything turned out okay, but it took a while and I’m convinced to this day that their anxiety struggles spring from these first weeks of life. As our children grew, we learned that two of the three were on the spectrum and that anxiety, depression, ADHD, and OCD were also playing a part in their lives. Parents, at least speaking for myself, can’t help but blame themselves for the struggles their children face. The “if only” questions creep in and easily overcome the voices that assure us that it really has nothing to do with us. In the film, Lenore says, “maybe it’s all the pills I’ve been taking that brought this on.” Frank muses aloud about how he used to think that Frankenstein was the monster, but when he got older realized he was the one that made the monster. The aptly named Frank is wondering if his baby’s mutation is his fault, if he created the monster that is terrorizing Los Angeles. I have made plenty of “if only” statements about myself over the years. “If only I hadn’t had to work so much, if only I had been around more when they were little.” Mothers may ask themselves, “did I have a drink, too much coffee, or a cigarette before I knew I was pregnant? Was I too stressed out during the pregnancy?” In other words, most parents can’t help but wonder if it’s all their fault.

At one point in the film, Frank goes to the elementary school where his baby has been sighted and is escorted through the halls by police. He overhears someone comment about “screwed up genes,” which brings about age-old questions of nature vs. nurture. Despite the voices around him from doctors and detectives that say, “we know this isn’t your fault,” Frank can’t help but think it is, and that the people who try to tell him it isn’t really think it’s his fault too. There is no doubt that there is a hereditary element to the kinds of mental illness struggles that my children and I deal with. But, and it’s a bit but, good parenting goes a long way in helping children deal with these struggles. Kids need to know they’re not alone, a good parent can provide that, perhaps especially parents that can relate to the same kinds of struggles. The question of nature vs. nurture will likely never be entirely answered but I think there’s more than a good chance that “both/and” is the case. Around the midpoint of the film, Frank agrees to disown the child and sign it over for medical experimentation if caught or killed. Lenore and the older son Chris (Daniel Holzman) seek to nurture and teach the baby, feeling that it is not a monster, but a member of the family.

It’s Alive takes these ideas to an even greater degree in the fact that the Davis Baby really is a monster, a mutant with claws and fangs that murders and eats people. The late ’60s and early ’70s also saw the rise in mass murderers and serial killers which heightened the nature vs. nurture debate. Obviously, these people were not literal monsters but human beings that came from human parents, but something had gone horribly wrong. Often the upbringing of these killers clearly led in part to their antisocial behavior, but this isn’t always the case. It’s Alive asks “what if a ‘monster’ comes from a good home?” In this case is it society, environmental factors, or is it the lead, smog, and pesticides? It is almost impossible to know, but the ending of the film underscores an uncomfortable truth—even monsters have parents.

As the film enters its third act, Frank joins the hunt for his child through the Los Angeles sewers and into the L.A. River. He is armed with a rifle and ready to kill on sight, having divorced himself from any relationship to the child. Then Frank finds his baby crying in the sewers and his fatherly instincts take over. With tears in his eyes, he speaks words of comfort and wraps his son in his coat. He holds him close, pats and rocks him, and whispers that everything is going to be okay. People often wonder how the parents of those who perform heinous acts can sit in court, shed tears, and defend them. I think it’s a complex issue. I’m sure that these parents know that their child has done something evil, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are still their baby. Your child is a piece of yourself formed into a whole new human being. Disowning them would be like cutting off a limb, no matter what they may have done. It doesn’t erase an evil act, far from it, but I can understand the pain of a parent in that situation. I think It’s Alive does an exceptional job placing its audience in that situation.

Despite the serious issues and ideas being examined in the film, It’s Alive is far from a dour affair. At heart, it is still a monster movie and filled with a sense of fun and a great deal of pitch-black humor. In one of its more memorable moments, a milkman is sucked into the rear compartment of his truck as red blood mingles with the white milk from smashed bottles leaking out the back of the truck and streaming down the street. Just after Frank agrees to join the hunt for his baby, the film cuts to the back of an ice cream truck with the words “STOP CHILDREN” emblazoned on it. It’s a movie filled with great kills, a mutant baby—created by make-up effects master Rick Baker early in his career, and plenty of action—and all in a PG rated movie! I’m telling you, the ’70s were wild. It just also happens to have some thoughtful ideas behind it as well.

Which was Larry Cohen’s specialty. Cohen made all kinds of movies, but his most enduring have been his horror films and all of them tackle the social issues and fears of the time they were made. God Told Me To (1976), Q: The Winged Serpent (1982), and The Stuff (1985) are all great examples of his socially aware, low-budget, exploitation filmmaking with a brain and It’s Alive certainly fits right in with that group. Cohen would go on to write and direct two sequels, It Lives Again (aka It’s Alive 2) in 1978 and It’s Alive III: Island of the Alive in 1987 and is credited as a co-writer on the 2008 remake. All these films explore the ideas of parental responsibility in light of the various concerns of the times they were made including abortion rights and AIDS.

Fifty years after It’s Alive was initially released, it has only become more relevant in the ensuing years. Fears surrounding parenthood have been with us since the beginning of time but as the years pass the reasons for these fears only seem to become more and more profound. In today’s world the conversation of the fathers in the waiting room could be expanded to hormones and genetic modifications in food, terrorism, climate change, school and other mass shootings, and other threats that were unknown or at least less of a concern fifty years ago. Perhaps the fearmongering conspiracy theories about chemtrails and vaccines would be mentioned as well, though in a more satirical fashion, as fears some expectant parents encounter while endlessly doomscrolling Facebook or Twitter. Speaking for myself, despite the struggles, the fears, and the sadness that sometimes comes with having children, it’s been worth it. The joys ultimately outweigh all of that, but I understand the terror too. Becoming a parent is no easy choice, nor should it be. But as I look back, I can say that I’m glad we made the choice we did.

I wonder if Frank and Lenore can say the same thing.

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