Showing posts with label Dracula. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dracula. Show all posts

Sunday, November 23, 2014

The REAL First Scary Moment in Video Game History...

Listing, ranking or reviewing the scariest moments in video games is a well-worn topic in gaming journalism. And just like your vintage paper Beistle skeleton decoration and vinyl Collegeville costume, it's one of those things that gets dusted off and trotted out annually just in time for Halloween.


While horror video games have become an industry unto themselves, with multiple franchises competing for your cold, clutching hands, its a genre that was recognized as far back as 1983. Here's the proof.


This Nov. 1983 issue of Electronic Games Magazine promises its coverage of the scary video game genre will cause you to "shake, quake and shudder"!


But in those 8-bit 80s, when graphics looked more like knitting patterns than Hollywood films, were games really capable of triggering the emotion of fright?

For the most part, no. Most of these so-called "scary" games weren't actually frightening themselves, but were merely inspired by or referenced horror characters or tropes. They were scary in theme only--horror by association. The experience of playing these games was anything but.

Does this kid look scared?

Just look at some of the games covered in this Electronic Games article. King Kong (1982, published by Tigervision for the Atari 2600) was little more than a Donkey Kong clone dressed up in an expensive trademark from Universal Studios. Are we quaking yet?


Frankenstein's Monster (1983, Data Age, Atari 2600) was another platformer that vaguely resembled Pitfall and wasn't going to give anyone the shivers.


Crush, Crumble and Chomp! (1981, Epyx, for TRS-80 and other computers) was a fairly elaborate, free-roaming Kaiju-simulator that let you wreak urban havoc as a giant dinosaur, spider, robot or blob. It was fun... but scary?


Even the well-reviewed Dracula (1983, Imagic, Intellivision), which comes closest to achieving a horror-like atmosphere with its graveyard and lightning flashes, never really succeeds in scaring the player.


Going all the way back to 1982's Haunted House (Atari 2600, not covered in this article), we find that the chills promised by the enticing box art don't materialize in the game play.


So when did video games go from merely sub-referencing fear to actually invoking it?

For me, that moment occurred the first time I played 1984's Rescue on Fractalus, one of two launch titles from a new arrival to the video game publishing party... Lucasfilm Games.


The 1983 announcement that Lucasfilm was going to transition to the video game medium, in a new partnership with Atari, was met with a fair amount of completely earned enthusiasm. Lucas had just lead a special effects revolution with the original Star Wars trilogy and the prospect of them making comparable technical strides in the still infant video game field had fans salivating.


The two debut titles were Ballblazer, a futuristic sports game boasting two first-person perspectives on a split-screen, and Rescue on Fractalus, which exploited newly developed fractal modeling techniques to generate realistic mountainous terrain for an interstellar search-and-rescue mission on an alien planet.


Both games are set in science-fiction fantasy worlds, and of course the studio that launched a thousand TIE-Fighters wasn't going to settle for rendering those worlds solely within the confines of an 8-bit computer screen. They used their model-making resources to create three-dimensional mock-ups of the rotofoil (the pod-like hovercraft vehicles from Ballblazer)...


...and the X-Wing like space-fighter and alien saucer ships from Fractalus. While images of these would be used for ads and packaging art, there's no doubt the creation of these models was also part of the creative process in developing the games.


Rescue on Fractalus puts the player in the pilot's seat of a space jet hovering above the rocky terrain of the planet Fractalus, seeking out crashed pilots while avoiding anti-aircraft laser turrets and hovering saucers controlled by the Jaggis, a reptilian race of hostiles.

For a consistent in-game narrative, your starcraft always launches from an orbiting mothership and flies down to Fractalus, instead of just starting on the planet's surface.

You have a full 360-degree range of motion and the fractal-geometry landscape stays consistent as you fly around it at various angles. This was quite an innovation back in 1984 when the game debuted.


After spotting a crashed friendly ship on your radar, you land, shut off your engines, and wait for the pilot, visible through the cockpit window, to hike across the alien sands to your ship.


And this is where the first authentically frightening moment I'd ever experienced playing a video game occurred. The pilot doesn't just automatically board your ship... you have to let him in by opening the hatch. He'll let you know he's ready to board by knocking on the door (which you have to listen for, because the pilot is out of view at this point.)

This wait starts to get very intense, because sometimes the "pilot" turns out to be an enemy Jaggi in disguise! You find this out when, instead of rapping at the door, it suddenly pops up in your view screen, accompanied by a shrill musical flourish reminiscent of a B-movie horror soundtrack, and begins pounding its fists on the cockpit canopy.


Much like the anticipated but dreaded jolt one gets from a jack-in-the-box, the appearance of the Jaggi startles you for a several seconds, which is all the time you have to fire up the engines and make escape before the cockpit is breached and the game ends with a black screen under a somber funeral dirge.


Here's a short video clip of the encounter (keep in mind this occurs after waiting in several seconds of tense silence for the pilot to knock.)
This clip appears to be from a beta-version of the game that went under title "Behind Jaggi Lines".

In earlier levels, the player is tipped off that the approaching pilot is actually an alien by the green head... but later on the Jaggis get smart and keep their helmet on, leaving you with no choice but to wait it out.


Man--that old Fractalus place gives me the creeps!

Sunday, February 6, 2011

The Creature Catalog - A Monster Watcher's Guide (1982, Michael Berenstain)

A monster dictionary of sorts (see also All About Monsters), The Creature Catalog - A Monster Watcher's Guide (1982, Random House) is a field guide to "weird and astonishing things on earth and other places", covering all categories of monsters, from folklore to mythology, cryptozoology, literature and film, with striking illustrations by author Michael Berenstain.

If Michael's last name rings a bell, it might be because he's the son of Stan and Jan, of Berenstain Bears fame.

Here's a sampling of the 70 or so creatures covered here.

The Werewolf, we learn, may have been born out of man's fear in older times of being consumed by a hungry pack of wild wolves.

The vampire may have been made famous by Bram Stoker's novel Dracula, but it's origin can be traced to the horrific barbarity of real-life 15th century figure Vlad the Impaler.

Here's a lesser known entry from Greek mythology, the Lamia, a snake-woman with a thirst for human blood.

Brief entries on several other monsters from ancient Greece, including centaurs, harpies, and Medusa.

Another unusual inclusion: from Jewish folklore, The Golem.

Zombies are associated with the voodoo rites of Haiti...

Trolls and goblins...

From the legends of Sinbad, here's the giant vulture-like bird call The Roc...

Sea-monsters, some of legend (the Kraken), some believed to be real (the Loch-Ness Monster):

The Abominable Snowman, believed to lurk amongst the Himalayan Mountains of Tibet...

An excellent rendering of the original King Kong...

The Creature Catalog is out of print as of this writing.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Vampyre, Game of the Hunt for Dracula (TSR Mini-games, 1980)

In the early 1980s, TSR Hobbies, Inc., the folks that brought you Dungeons & Dragons, published several "mini-games", dice-driven board games packaged in plastic blister-packs, with gameplay occurring on small paper maps with cardboard tokens.

In Vampyre, Game of the Hunt for Dracula (1980), up to six players, each assuming the role of a character from Bram Stoker's book, race across the Transylvanian countryside, through gloomy forests and craggy mountains, to locate and destroy three of Count Dracula's hidden coffins.

Along the way, they'll encounter swarms of rats, werewolves, murderous gypsies, and even the undead Count himself.

Players can uncover helpful items like a gun, a crucifix or holy water to give them an advantage in combat, which is resolved with dice rolls and charts. (Sometimes the player encounters nothing, so there are "nothing" tokens too).

A player can even be bitten by the Count and transform into a Nosferatu, at which point his goal in the game is no longer to find and destroy Dracula's coffins, but to attack his fellow players.

Once the coffins are found, the hunt for Dracula continues inside his castle (pictured on the reverse side of the map).

At this stage of the game, the passing of time is tracked on this monster-faced clock using the DAY and NIGHT tokens (all supernatural monsters fight at a disadvantage during the day).



Other titles in the TSR mini-games series were They've Invaded Pleasantville (a retro-50s game of alien invasion), Revolt on Antares (sort of a sci-fi version of the classic imperialist wargame Risk) and Saga: Age of Heroes (wargaming and adventuring in classic Rome).