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Big Bad Wolf Talks Lovecraft And More as Inspiration for ‘Cthulhu: The Cosmic Abyss’ [Interview]

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“It is a universe that lends itself to interactivity. You have detectives, a dark and horrific world, creatures, and ancestral cults devoted to ancient entities. It is a rich and expansive lore.”

So enthuses Tommaso Nuti, Game Director at Big Bad Wolf and creative mind behind the recently-released Cthulhu: The Cosmic Abyss, when asked why H.P. Lovecraft’s singular imaginings seem to be so much more popular in the gaming world than they are in other art forms. Indeed, while there’s a relative dearth of cosmic horror outings nowadays in cinema or on television, it sometimes feels like you can barely move for them on the Steam store. 

Within the past half-decade alone, we’ve had The Necromancer’s Tale, RailGods of Hysterra, Forgive Me Father (both 1 and 2), the Alone in the Dark remake, and Bloody Disgusting favourite DREDGE. All of which are either heavily inspired by, or directly situated within, Lovecraft’s iconic universe of shoggoths, dreamlands, and Old Ones. 

With such a crowded marketplace — let’s not forget that The Sinking City 2 is on the horizon — any developer hoping to make their own contribution to this genre will need to have a fresh take. Otherwise, they’ll just get lost in the shuffle. 

Fortunately, Nuti and co. are aware of this imperative and have come up with something quite distinctive in The Cosmic Abyss. Modernising the so-called Cthulhu mythos, they’ve left behind the stodgy 1920s period setting that we typically associate with this genre and have instead situated the action within the year 2053. 

Here, we are confronted with a bleak vision of tomorrow where corporations are avariciously depleting the planet’s natural resources, important work is being outsourced to artificial intelligence, and inexplicable, ominous events are occurring on the world stage that defy all logical explanation. So, you know, nothing at all like 2026! 

In this frightening dystopia, you play as an Interpol investigator named Noah, whose latest assignment has taken him to the very depths of the Pacific Ocean. Here— alongside his A.I. sidekick, KEY — he must get to the bottom of a mysterious tragedy that has befallen the workers of an underwater mining facility. 

What initially starts as a cut-and-dry missing persons case soon reveals itself to be something far beyond his comprehension. Eldritch gods, Atlantean cities, and mind-bending hallucinations: you know all that usual Cthulhu goodness. What makes this so unique, however, is that The Cosmic Abyss eschews traditional horror conventions like jump scares, combat, and stealth. Replacing them is a focus on clever detective mechanics and branching path storytelling. 

To find out more about this intriguing blend of futuristic sci-fi, classic noir, and literary horror, we caught up with Nuti for an exclusive interview.


 

Bloody Disgusting: Movies rarely dip their toes into the Cthulhu mythos, certainly not on a big scale anyway. Yet it’s conversely very well represented in the video game arena. As someone who has now put their own stamp on Lovecraft’s material, why do you think it’s got such a strong foothold in this particular medium?

The success of the Call of Cthulhu role-playing game [helps] explain why this universe is so popular in video games. RPG and tabletop players already form a receptive audience for this type of experience. 

[On] the cinematic side, translating a universe that is — by its very nature — meant to remain unimaginable presents a significant challenge […] That said, it is certainly possible. 

Perhaps today the license is not yet established enough among cinephiles to encourage major studios to invest heavily, even if some projects and names — such as James Wan or Guillermo del Toro — suggest a growing interest. Personally, I would not be surprised to see Cthulhu reach the big screen in a major way in the coming years.

BD: What is your own relationship with the work of Lovecraft? Have you always been a fan?

TN: I discovered Lovecraft’s work when I was quite young, and I also had the opportunity to play the tabletop role-playing game. To be honest, I never imagined I would one day adapt this universe myself […] The idea for this project emerged during discussions with our publisher, NACON, where many people are very familiar with the universe. 

After those conversations, I returned to the original short stories, as well as other books and films inspired by them. This allowed me to rediscover Lovecraft from a fresh perspective. For any horror fan, it is a unique opportunity and an incredible creative playground.

BD: Presumably, The Call of Cthulhu was one of the key texts you referred to here? Were there any other specific Lovecraft stories that were big inspirations for The Cosmic Abyss?

TN: We drew inspiration from many of Lovecraft’s short stories to adapt the mythos. Our focus was on using the broader lore to build continuity within this universe, rather than directly adapting a single story. 

Among these, The Call of Cthulhu is of course a key reference, along with The Shadow over Innsmouth and The Haunter of the Dark, as well as another cult short story that I would prefer not to reveal, in order to preserve the surprise.

BD: Looking outside of Lovecraft himself, what else influenced the direction of this title? Are there any other video games, movies or pieces of literature that were swimming in your mind while making it?

TN: On the video game side, we are always very curious to play, test, and analyze what [else] has been done [in] the genre we are exploring. For example, The Outer Wilds informed our approach to investigation design, as did The Forgotten City. Dishonored 2 was also interesting to study in the way it suggests alternative paths to the main objective without stating them explicitly.

For the first-person approach, which was a first for the studio, we looked at Cyberpunk 2077, Resident Evil 7, and Resident Evil Village as case studies.

BD: One of the ways you are putting a fresh spin on the Cthulhu mythos here is by translating the action from the 1920s to the near future of 2053. What motivated this decision, and how do you think it changes the experience?

TN: Horror and science fiction form a compelling combination, one that has already proven to be an effective mix across cinema and video games. The decision to set the game in 2053 came from several reflections on the themes we wanted to explore. We wanted to echo current issues, such as resource depletion, climate change, the influence of large private fortunes, and the rise of AI. Placing ancient creatures and relics within this futuristic world allowed us to create a strong contrast between our civilization and theirs.

A near-future setting also gives players more familiar reference points than the 1920s or 1930s, reinforcing the sense of rupture when they arrive in [the canonical prison city of Cthulhu] R’lyeh. They leave a known world to discover another that is radically different.

Finally, Lovecraft set his stories in a contemporary setting, bringing horror closer to a reality [that was] familiar to the reader. Very early in development, we felt that taking the game in a thriller, horror, and science fiction direction was a risk worth taking.

BD: Tying into that futuristic setting, we don’t have a human companion accompanying us on the investigation here. Rather, our partner is an in-universe artificial intelligence. Could you talk a little about the character of KEY? What role do they play in the game?

TN: KEY is a fundamental component of the experience. From a diegetic point of view, they explain Noah’s tools and [act] as his companion. If Noah is Sherlock, KEY is Doctor Watson. Except KEY evolves.

Including a character who is immune to sanity loss and brings a different perspective on discoveries allowed us to revisit the mythos in an original way, while adding a new dynamic to the duo. More human than mechanical, KEY accompanies Noah throughout the adventure but cannot intervene directly in dangerous situations. This leaves [Noah] alone to face what he encounters, preserving the feeling of solitude.

BD: Obviously, A.I. is a hot-button issue at the moment, and there are lots of concerns about the ethnicity with which it is used, the reliability of the information it gives, and the biases it can internalize. Without wanting to go into spoiler territory, have any of these real-world anxieties informed how you characterize Key in the game? 

TN: At the beginning of the game’s conception, generative AI technologies were just emerging, and we projected the kind of ambiguity this could introduce into our world. By choosing a near-future setting, we were moving into speculative fiction, and it was important for us to shape this character in a way that would remain relevant and coherent by the time of the game’s release.

We imagined what these types of virtual assistants could become if applied to the work of a detective. While KEY is designed to assist Noah, it is through its interface that he interacts with the world. The more he relies on it, the more it defines and refines itself.

The central question we explore is: Who is really the tool of whom, and what are the consequences?

We were careful not to take a purely negative view and instead approached the character with nuance. The game offers its own answer, but it is difficult to say more without revealing too much. What we can say is that the line between valuable assistance and manipulation is much thinner than it may first appear.

BD: This is largely pitched as a detective title, and the primary way we interact with its world is by solving puzzles and collecting evidence, rather than by dealing with eldritch monsters up front. Indeed, you seem to have deliberately avoided more conventional horror game mechanics like stealth and combat. What was your rationale for this?

TN: We want to put players in the shoes of an occult investigator exploring a universe that is completely beyond them. Which is why we ruled out combat from the start. That said, the absence of combat does not mean the absence of threats. Many elements can kill you in R’lyeh, whether it’s the ruins themselves or the creatures that inhabit them.

From a logical standpoint, no conventional weapon would be effective, and direct confrontation would lead to certain death. Only your tools and your reasoning allow you to progress through the adventure. This also reinforces the idea of humanity’s insignificance when faced with these ancient entities.

To bring the myth to life and allow players to truly conduct an investigation, we structured the experience around this constant sense of danger. To survive, players need to understand the rules that govern this world, either by accepting them or by learning how to work around them.

BD: Yeah, I think it’s actually quite on brand for a Lovecraft story! Typically, the protagonists in these things are trying to wrap their heads around incomprehensible truths or just digging into past events. They don’t tend to jump gung-ho into action. Still, it must be difficult to create an effective horror experience when the player isn’t in real peril most of the time. How do you ensure that there is still tension here and that people feel on edge?

TN: Beyond cutscenes and scripted events, tension also comes from the player’s own way of investigating. Imagine exploring an environment for twenty minutes and becoming familiar with a place. Then you discover a clue that unlocks a new frequency on your sonar, revealing traces left by a creature all around you.

In an instant, the place you thought you understood changes and becomes hostile again. This is just one possible scenario. Players might discover these elements in a different order or miss some entirely while following other leads. This is where one of the game’s strengths lies: letting tension and twists emerge naturally [in a way] that is unique to each player.

BD: On the subject of this being a detective game, it seems like there are a lot of variables that affect how this can play out. Based on the evidence you collect, how you interpret it, and what tools you use, the player could potentially arrive at different conclusions, solve certain mysteries early, or miss out on vital pieces of the story altogether. As a developer, how do you keep track of all these threads and make sure that the player has a satisfying experience?

TN: We built on everything we developed in our previous games, especially in terms of branching narrative. The main challenge was shifting the paradigm, moving from “an investigation in which you are an actor” to “you play an investigation, and the story emerges largely from your actions.” 

This may seem subtle, but it implies a very different development approach. 

BD: And how branching is that investigation? What kind of things can end up changing depending on our choices?

TN: In each chapter, players investigate very freely within open areas. The more curious they are, the more threads they can pull, allowing them to make informed decisions and protect themselves from Cthulhu’s corruption.

As a result, players can approach and resolve obstacles in different ways. During investigation phases, the game does not present explicit choices. It is up to players to follow leads and understand the possibilities available to them. This makes the way they progress essential, as [it determines] their level of corruption. And corruption has a determining impact on the game’s endings.

BD: Speaking of the “corruption” mechanic, could you talk a little about that and give us an idea of what kind of things we can expect from it? How far does it go?

TN: Throughout each chapter, players make decisions that grant access to specific actions, scenes, and chapter conclusions. Depending on these choices, corruption may increase or remain stable, and in the end, they will face the consequences.

It primarily influences the game’s endings and the character’s narrative arc, but it also affects gameplay. Some abilities can transform, improve, or break depending on the player’s corruption level. It acts as a sword of Damocles hanging over the player.

BD: When it comes to the puzzles, how do you balance making them challenging and worthwhile, without leaving the player completely flummoxed?

TN: We want players to experience that real “eureka” moment when they find a solution […] It is that familiar moment from detective films, when the investigator suddenly connects all the clues, and everything falls into place. That is exactly the feeling we want to deliver.

Achieving this relies primarily on iteration, balancing, and, whenever possible, playtesting […]  Sometimes it comes down to small adjustments, such as refining a clue, reconsidering its wording, moving a key object to make it slightly more visible or, on the contrary, more discreet if it feels too obvious. Or it could even just be a case of rephrasing an objective.

We have also included a “Story Mode” for players who prefer to focus on the narrative. They can request hints and receive help from KEY to progress more easily. 

BD: While there are some details given in his stories, Lovecraft would often leave things up to the imagination of the reader when it came to thinking about what his various creatures, eldritch gods, and sunken cities look like. There’s a lot of “indescribable” and “formless” horrors in his works. Obviously, you don’t have that luxury in a visual medium and have to commit to showing these things properly on screen. How did you approach that? Did you try to piece together what you could from Lovecraft’s vague descriptions, look at some illustrated interpretations, or go in your own direction?

TN: Bringing this universe to life was a major challenge, led by Thomas Veauclin, our Art and Creative Director, along with the entire graphics team. Among our inspirations were artists such as François Baranger, Zdzisław Beksiński, H.R. Giger, and Gou Tanabe.

To take a concrete example, Cthulhu himself is an entity that has been represented in many different ways, and whose design has become relatively codified over time. This served as a starting point for our [depiction]. In the game, he retains the defining elements that make him recognizable, while being reinterpreted through a more personal vision.

This adaptation work was essential. We needed to find the right approach to translate this universe, while giving it our own identity. On that note, I would also encourage you to explore the game’s artbook, which goes into more detail on these choices and shows how the artistic direction was developed.

Cthulhu: The Cosmic Abyss is available now on PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X|S, and PC via Steam

Opinionated, Verbose and Generally Pedantic. Loves Horror in all of its forms.

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Interviews

Avalon Fast on Women, Witches, and the Intoxicating Nature of Girl Horror ‘Camp’

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Avalon Fast interview Camp

Of all the places to find a coven of witches, the attic above a Christian youth camp is probably the last place you’d think to look. But that’s just what we find in Camp, a surrealist nightmare of feminist empowerment from Canadian filmmaker Avalon Fast.

Emily (Zola Grimmer) is still reckoning with her involvement in a horrific tragedy when she accidentally contributes to the death of her best friend, Charlie (Giselle Morison). Unable to move on, the traumatized teen takes a job at a rural summer camp, hoping to forget her own sorrows by looking after at-risk kids. She quickly connects with a counselor named Clara (Alice Wordsworth) and finds comfort in her close-knit group of female friends. But a mysterious whisper from deep in the woods warns that they may be leading her down a darker path.  

Fast burst onto the scene in 2022 with Honeycomb, a psychological horror film that follows a burgeoning matriarchy. Known for their focus onGirl Horrorstories, the talented young filmmaker tackles similar themes in Camp as Emily leaves the modern world behind to embrace a dark vision of self-discovery through magic.

Ahead of the film’s U.S. release on June 26, Bloody Disgusting sat down with Fast to chat about the nebulous nature of good vs. evil and the intoxicating power of female-driven horror. 

Avalon Fast Camp Interview

Bloody Disgusting: What inspired this unique story? Did you go to religious summer camps when you were young? 

Avalon Fast: I did. I went to lots of different summer camps, but all of them were primarily Bible camps. The memory I have of camp is kind of strange. I was very homesick as a kid, and I didn’t necessarily enjoy all my time there. I definitely remember meeting some interesting girls at camp and having that presence of religion hovering around the whole experience. 

BD: I really love the film’s gorgeous natural setting. Camp is the kind of surrealist nightmare that you don’t just watch. You feel it too. How did you approach creating this world? 

AF: Well, a huge part of it was working with my cinematographer Eily Sprungman, who’s a very close friend. We spent years prepping, shot listing, storyboarding, and mood boarding. She’d had a similar experience to mine. We grew up around the same place, and so we understood each other’s visions from the get-go. But there are so many other pieces that came together. The costuming, the art, and the animated sequences were done by Sofiya Iurkevych. One of our producers, Taylor Nodrick, was obsessed with shooting on Super 8 film. I’ve always wanted to as well, so all the memory sequences were shot on Super 8. It was just a lot of people with an understanding and a vision for what this project was. I’m really happy with the way it turned out.

To the extent that you’re comfortable sharing, what’s your relationship to witchcraft, and what does Camp have to say about modern witches?

Well, that’s the question of Camp. It’s not that I don’t resonate with any of these things, but I specifically wanted Camp to be a little bit ambiguous around what witchcraft looks like. Is this witchcraft? Are these girls witches? Emily explicitly asks if that’s what’s happening here, and the answer isn’t yes. The film isn’t going to answer that question for you. My relationship to magic and witchcraft? It’s tough. I feel like there’s so much magic, connection, and spirituality that comes from these friendships, the closeness of these women, and what’s happening around them. A lot of what Camp is trying to say or show is just that magic can come out of friendship.

I loved watching these female friendships develop. And you’re right. No one ever says the wordcoven,but you can feel that connection, and you can see a change in Emily as those relationships grow. I’m also really fascinated with the way Camp plays with the idea of good and evil. At one point, Clara says,Maybe God drew us to the devil,which stopped me in my tracks. How do you view witchcraft or the magic these girls are experiencing in regard to good and evil? 

That was such a huge part of the script’s construction. The story is really trying to keep a balance between those two things. I like asking people if they think these girls are good or bad, because I feel like a lot of people come out of the film thinking one or the other. They’ll say things likethank God Emily found her peopleorGod, I really wish she’d gone home.I just don’t think there’s ever an answer. I wanted to explore the idea of going down the wrong path, especially coming out of grief. What makes you a bad person, and does healing mean you’re looking to become a better person? I don’t have an answer, but I do feel like that’s a huge part of what Camp is asking. What is good? What is bad? Why did God bring me to the devil? 

Yes, because this is all happening atGod campin Emily’s words. So how can both of those things exist at the same time? Along those lines, I’m also fascinated by the voice Emily hears in the woods. Without spoiling too much, what is this voice asking, and what is required in return?

Emily comes to camp with a shout into the void, asking can anyone hear me? Does anyone want to? And it’s answered so clearly by these girls, specifically responding only with love, care, support, and trust. It’s like her prayers were answered. It doesn’t mean that everything is going to be alright, but Emily is looking for peace. She’s looking for a moment where she feels pure good. And I think, even at its surface level, she does get that experience. 

Personally, I don’t really think people are good or bad. I think we all exist somewhere in the middle. Camp centers traditionally villainized characters, but that’s where Emily seems to find her peace, however you choose to define it. 

I also wanted to show the experience of having decided that you are a bad person, you’ve made mistakes, and you feel cursed. Then when you meet other people who have done things that you would consider worse, you can actually feel good in their presence. You feel like less of a bad person. I think that’s a huge part of the story as well. Emily’s finding her version of other fucked up people, and she feels less fucked up around them. I’ve found that in my own life. It’s a cool thing. I don’t think it’s bad.

I don’t think it’s bad either. It’s finding your home, your people. We meet Emily in the aftermath of unthinkable trauma. Is this a story about mental health and healing? 

Witnessing it myself. witnessing other people experience tragedy and then move through grief, you hear a lot of talk about healing or coming out the other side. There’s so much conversation around what that looks like, with self-care and showing up for yourself. I always felt really averse to it. It annoyed me. I think the beginning of the film speaks to that. The therapeutic version of what getting help looks like is obviously very different from what Camp is showing. And again, I don’t have an answer for what you’re supposed to do. But I think that’s another question I was asking: how do you heal? Do you heal at all? Is that the end goal, or are we just trying to get better? It’s something I experienced in my own grief. And the answer, for me, at least now, is just that I’m not looking to get better. So I felt like I hadn’t. I found it hard to find people to have those conversations with. And I think that’s what I ultimately wanted to make a film about. 

I love that unanswered question. In my own experience, I’ve had to reframe what healing actually looks like. There’s not really an endpoint. It’s just finding a way to keep going. There’s also an element of sacrifice in this story, particularly regarding another counselor named Jo (Sophie Bawks-Smith). What role does she play in Emily’s journey? 

For me, Jo is this human embodiment of Charlie, Emily’s friend. As Jo, she had a life at this camp before meeting Emily, and then was kind of taken over by Charlie’s spirit. I think a lot of people view Emily’s final choice as horrendous and tragic. In a way it is, but for me, if Jo becomes her angel, it’s almost like a self-sacrifice. Jo knows that by sacrificing herself, she’ll be giving Emily power to move forward. In the original script, the girls were supposed to bring out another counselor, JB (Aidan Laudersmith), and burn his body. But I just thought, there’s no way sacrificing this guy could give the girls enough power. There’s just no way, right? Logically, that just didn’t line up for me. 

I’m glad you mentioned JB, because he has his own tragic arc. How do men factor into the world of Camp? 

The way men factor into my world is so bizarre. I have such little respect for them in my films, which is something I’ve been called on. I think I have to challenge myself in the future to make a movie about a boy because, these boys … It’s not that the men in my films aren’t redeemable, but there’s no depth to these characters. They’re just treated with such disrespect. I don’t know why I do that, actually. That’s something for me to look into. It was the same with Honeycomb. They’re just such peripheral characters. I’ve had people ask about Kayne (Henri Gillespi), the scary guy at the fire, what happens to him? I just think, I don’t know. I don’t care. That’s not the point of the story. 

Well, I can say after a lifetime of watching women on the periphery of the story, the course correction feels nice. In a similar vein, I’m in love with your homepage, avalonfast.com. There’s an image of girls on a film set and then a still from Honeycomb in which a blood-covered girl is screaming at the sky. And in the middle, it just says Girl Horror. It’s a really powerful statement that gives me chills. How do you define Girl Horror, and what draws you to these types of stories? 

I was obsessed with the term when I started making my movies. It was something I’d come up with to kind of brand myself and describe what I was doing. Then I went through a period where I felt like it was a bit gender exclusive and didn’t interest me as much. But now I’ve come full circle on the term. I think it’s a bit of a commentary on youth and the horror of growing up female. But I think everybody can relate to that experience. I don’t want it to feel like this exclusive thing, that I make movies exclusively for girls, because I don’t think I do. I’m interested in exploring what Girl Horror means. Originally, it was just a title, something I came up with, and now it’s become something that resonates with people. You said it gave you chills. That’s cool for me to hear because there’s obviously some depth there. 

Are you working on anything new? 

Yes. I am actually making a movie about a boy. That’s the next thing. 

That’s exciting! The more I think about feminism, the more I end up coming back to men and boys, because they have a place in the world of Girl Horror too.  

Absolutely. It’s all just part of being human.

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