Summer Research Remnant: Until Dawn and Group Horror Playthroughs
Until Dawn is a multiple-hour horror experience that features a branching decision tree that determines how the narrative progresses. Immediately, the player is informed of how their decisions have consequences, pressuring the player to play deliberately and thoughtfully. On the other hand, this increased pressure also can make every mistake or hesitation seem worse (thus making the experience less enjoyable).
Until Dawn is very slow paced in the beginning, with narrative sequences determined by player choices. There are quick time events and timed shooting events, which are anxiety provoking in the amount of reactivity, steadiness, and precision expected of the player in real time compared to other, slower-paced games. To make choices, players have to use the right stick (tilt and hold, so you have to commit to those choices, forcing the player to ruminate on them) to pick the path that the interaction on screen will take. Interestingly enough, though, you only have to tap R2 to shoot something (granted, there may be lag for aligning the aim, but even so, there is a heightened sense of urgency with the shooting thing compared to the choice (though I guess shooting something is also a choice but still slightly more involved mechanic and additional ticking timer)).
In the three days it took to play through the narrative, the most horrifying experience ended up being missing seemingly ‘obvious’ social cues and worrying that I’d already doomed myself. Namely, within the first arc of the story, when playing as Sam and investigating the boiler room with Josh, Josh asks for a high five and the player has a quick time event (QTE) to respond. Since this was after a different interactive mini game, I missed the QTE and immediately had to pause the game to berate myself for doing so for five minutes, before staring in horror as Josh’s face goes blank, his hand lowers, and the bright white burst of butterflies in the corner of the screen blithely reiterate what I had dreaded: “Josh will remember this.”
The monsters and jump scares themselves are grotesque, and rely on the fear of the unknown to produce momentary unease during those action sequences, but once the player settles into their shifted state (from leisurely relaxing to active fight-or-flight), the scares seem to lose their effect. The wendigo is terrifying, but more so due to the fact that interacting incorrectly with the wendigo can basically derail the entire narrative than the (honestly more sad than scary) origin of the monster itself.
Until Dawn features optional (but recommended and set as the default play setting) motion controls and chapter breaks with a ‘psychiatrist’ to customize the horror evoked to each player. Especially in the latter half of the game, the haptic controls of the game become crucial to immersion and thus the effectiveness of the scares. The wendigo’s vision is motion-dependent, so the players are instructed to not move or press any buttons in order to make it through the encounter successfully. Placing down the controller is not an option, however, as the wendigo can roar and cause the controller to shake (emulating what the characters on screen may feel in real time). The player has to steady their own hands in order for their character to survive, further mapping the player’s embodied experience playing the game onto the game itself and aiding with the player empathizing with/being invested in the game.
Considering exactly how archetypical and unlikeable/needlessly cruel all of the characters are, this facilitated immersion becomes vital from the beginning, especially since the social interactions are not as straightforward as they are in other RPGs. The lack of empathy/investment means that the player lacks an incentive to interact with characters (and thus keep playing), and that the player has difficulty being able to distinguish which dialogue options are appropriate to the character arcs that the player wants to enact.