I like scary things. I love the adrenaline rush, the quickened pace of my heart. I like coming out alive on the other side of whatever scared me. I think everyone can relate. Oh, yeah, I like to pretend I don’t feel scared when it benefits me on a romantic level. There is a problem, though.
In my opinion, horror movies today are mostly junk that should be avoided. Hollywood seems to buy hauntings and conjurations and exorcisms more often than not, leading to a lukewarm selection of horror films that cater to unsuspecting teens on a first date. Jump-scares are anticipated because of the music or because the expendable guy or girl hasn’t yet died when it’s already thirty minutes into the story. Most endings can be guessed in the same way Scooby Doo cartoons used to end.
There are, of course, exceptions. Films about war and about the degrading environment and about how we’re collectively getting screwed by corrupt officials are scarier than anything else these days. I guess I grew up, moved past the stage where I could suspend disbelief and embed myself in a low-quality slasher. I remember faintly the feeling of horror I had after watching The Hills Have Eyes remake back in high school.
I missed being that scared. I missed the feeling of secretly reading — unbeknownst to my parents — Stephen King books until 2AM. Up until recently, novels were still my go-to source for horror. I love to read, but I also love sitting back and letting the scares come to me.
VR solved my horror problem. Perhaps it was my willingness to take on and review a horror game that branded me, but since then I seem to receive the horror duty more often than not. I’ve joked that VR Heads should be putting away money to cover my impending psychotherapy. It’s a joke. I’m not complaining.
Horror in VR brings me back to a familiar feeling. No matter how dark the room, no matter how late the hour, no matter how loud the surround sound, no matter how scary the movie, film is no match for VR. The combination of 3D audio, 360-degree view, and carefully crafted virtual environments leads to a truly thrilling experience.
I will admit I’ve pulled the head-mounted display away from my face to check my surroundings countless times. I get that Someone Is Watching Me feeling and I can’t help but look around. Dead Secret is a perfect example of a game that got under my skin from the very start and stayed there even after I’d removed the HMD. It is a game that demands each of its parts contribute to the overall horror rather than relying on timed scares that startle you but soon go away. I was surprised that a game costing only $10 could deliver such a ride.
Until Dawn: Rush of Blood is another one of my favorites. The first time I rolled through the deafening slaughterhouse full of tortured pigs I had to shut my jaw with my right hand — it was truly affecting. About ten seconds later I came upon the naked dolls holding video cameras on each other and on me, and I knew I was in for a treat. I’d say it was here that I was sold on VR horror.
Some horror VR games have let me down, but that’s expected. Not every title can be a winner. They’re still good for a play-through and some cheap scares, but they’re nothing I get my friends to try when they come over. That’s another thing — watching people play horror games, especially on PlayStation VR with a nice, big viewing screen, is so much fun. You can see your spectator friends literally inching toward the edge of their seats, eager to be next in line. It’s way more interactive than sitting quietly watching a horror movie, and it leads to a lot more laughs despite the subject matter.
I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. Thank you developers, thank you virtual reality. I can get scared again at things that aren’t too real (Hello all bills I’ve yet to pay). I can enjoy horror with my friends in a way like never before, and I can walk around with that creepy feeling long after I’ve set the game aside. Welcome back, horror. I missed you.
