What makes horror stories resonate is the sense of vulnerability. Since the release of
Resident Evil 5 [バイオハザード5], survival horror games have forgotten this.
Amnesia: The Dark Descent boldly leaves the shotguns and grenades behind. Instead, this uncompromising survival horror title has a lantern with limited oil and a whole lot of imagination.
You awaken in an empty castle with a note written by yourself. You have purposely erased your memory for reasons unknown. Now, you must venture into the heart of the castle to kill a man named Alexander. This wouldn’t be so bad if a living nightmare wasn’t following your every step.
The five person crew behind
Amensia has a masterful sense of player agency and purpose. The path through (and below) the Gothic castle always feels propelled by strong storytelling and direction. You enter a ballroom and a window breaks, unveiling a gust of wind. Of course, that’s the direction you must go. It’s in a broader sense of pacing that the game achieves its greatest scares. When you aren’t exploring rooms for clues that expand the story, you are hiding from a group of terribly unhandsome, disfigured people or solving elaborate puzzles. The game will often make you feel safe after a hellish encounter, only to increase the intensity a moment later.
There is a constant struggle between light and darkness in the game. Darkness, as well as witnessing disturbing events, eats at your sanity. As your sanity meter lowers, the game will find new ways to play audio and visual tricks on you that will make you question your own well-being. This leads to the greater tug-of-war throughout the game: player comfort vs. progress. As you travel down pitch-black hallways, you will wonder if lighting a candle is for strategic purposes (to see monsters) or for your own relief.
Unlike other games that let you open doors with the press of a button,
Amensia lets you interact with every physical object by reaching out and touching it. For instance, a door can be grabbed with the click of a mouse. You can then carefully crack it open or slam it shut. This simple mechanic makes some of the game’s greatest scares possible, such as fumbling for a door knob or quickly assembling boxes to make a hiding space when an enemy approaches.
Part of the game’s genius is its reluctance to put the player in dangerous situations in its beginning while keeping the horror relentless in its delivery and pacing. By the time danger is tangible, virtual death feels like actual death. When death came close, I would exit to the menu, take a deep breath and reassess if I could make it out alive. To say the least, I haven't been the same ever since.
I'm also not as optimistic to think games targeting streamers and Yt'ers is a dead trend. The misery is just spread out more and not as concentrated as it once was since everyone and their mom has a cam, an uncomfortable "gamer" chair, and a controller in their hand.