INSIDE
(2016, M FOR MATURE)
7/2/21
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH TOWARD A CHILD. READER/RESEARCHER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
In his most famous novel, The Alchemist, Paulo Choelho gave this quote through his title character:
“Everything that happens once can never happen again. But everything that happens twice will surely happen a third time.”
So what does such a philosophical statement have to do an indie puzzle-platform video game set in a dark and horrifying dystopian world? Well, I’ll tell you. I was motivated to buy an XBOX 360 for the sole purpose of playing LIMBO, another indie puzzle-platform video game set in a dark and horrifying dystopian world, the first by the Danish independent developer Playdead and one of my all-time favorite games. As fate would have it—and I swear I absolutely did not plan this—, it was Playdead’s second game which prompted me to open up a Steam account so that I could play it on my PC without paying an arm and a leg. Of course, I’ve purchased and played many more excellent games on both systems since then. But I can’t help but smile when I wonder: if and when Playdead releases their third game (in development as of 2017), will I go three-for-three, buy and play it first on yet another system? Only time will tell. But until then, that second game will certainly tide me over, just as LIMBO did before it.
There is no life in the forest. Still leaves litter the ground like corpses; sickly streaks of sunlight bring no warmth to the cold, grey air; and even the wind seems reluctant to disturb the eerie silence. All of a sudden, something rustles from atop a lonely crag. A figure drops to the ground: a boy in a red shirt. He races through the woods, whether from danger or towards salvation, he does not say. But he is not as alone as he first appears. Men with riffles and dogs stand watch, ready to hunt the boy down should he be spotted. He soon discovers they are part of an organization which performs dangerous mind-control experiments, reducing their human guinea pigs to zombified automatons devoid of all will and identity. Having now found himself in the heart of their hellish facility, the boy must uncover the purpose of these insane experiments while surviving murderous watchmen, vicious traps, and emotionless scientists, lest he and his own mind become their next research specimens.
It’s near impossible to discuss this game without comparing it to its predecessor, but considering how good the latter turned out—and how the former improved on its format—, I’m not complaining in the slightest. True, certain core details are identical. A small child finds himself in a hostile and frightening world, alone and pursued by enemies for reasons the player and possibly the protagonist himself don’t know. Once again, the narrative is learned only through play: there is no dialogue or text to give context to the game’s setting, a purpose for the boy being there in the first place, or motives for the enemies so dead set on capturing or killing him. Controls are simplified to move, jump, and interact (holding, pushing and pulling, etc.) And just as the LIMBO boy had his face hidden in black silhouette, save for his bright white eyes, the INSIDE boy has no face at all, an artistic detail that just as strongly adds to the mystery of his identity and backstory. The death traps are just as plentiful and gruesome this time around, and oftentimes, unfortunately, must be experienced firsthand in order for players to understand what not to do in order to progress—and survive.
So much for the superficial similarities. INSIDE could easily be nicknamed LIMBO 2.0, but it is no clone by any stretch. To begin with, rather than monochrome shadow puppet visuals in 2D, this side scroller is in 2.5D with color, putting every physical, unnerving detail on full display. Whereas his LIMBO counterpart was like a paper doll in both appearance and motion, the INSIDE boy looks and feels much more natural, from the way he stumbles while running from an enemy, to the way he doubles over and pants heavily from exhaustion after swimming for his life. (That’s a new feature, too, not drowning the instant his head is submerged.) The aforementioned color is very muted and washed-out to maintain the bleak atmosphere; even the boy’s distinctive red shirt barely stands out as more than a dirty brown-hued grey in areas not brightly lit. But that doesn’t make his myriad death scenes any less horrifying, whether he’s being mauled by savage dogs, shot or strangled by guards, tased by robots, or drowned by the black-haired, Ring-esque nymph-like creature haunting the facility’s watery depths.
A fun fact regarding returning composer Martin Stig Andersen’s approach to INSIDE’s eerie sounds. Rather than a traditional soundtrack, Andersen instead created the game’s ambient music—as sparse as that of LIMBO--by filtering his score through a human skull. Yes, a real human skull! The resulting vibrations serve a dual purpose. The low and somber chords linger oppressively, as if to smother the boy’s hope of respite. At the same time, they complement the artificiality of this dystopian world while emphasizing its sheer monstrousness; they don’t accompany the technological environment so much as merge with it, creating an unseen but very much live entity in which the boy is little more than a fragile, flesh-and-bone insect. One particular musical portion intrigued me. Recall, all you LIMBO players, the sequence in which the white-eyed, shadow-clad boy must make his way past laser-activated machine guns. The music played then is arguably, and rather ironically, the most relaxing and peaceful in the whole game. In fact, the piece has since been unofficially titled by fans, “Machine Gun Tranquility.” Andersen does something similar in the latter half of one of the most infamous and lethal sections of INSIDE. Here, the boy finds himself within a massive atrium in which an unseen device in the distance sends out powerful shock waves which will blast him apart if he is unshielded. In a strangely beautiful juxtaposition, we hear another ambient piece that flows with a calm, dreamlike, and I daresay even uplifting serenity, as if to mock the boy with a false sense of security, while lying in wait to strike when he is at his most exposed.
Speaking of bringing life from the dead, LIMBO briefly touched upon the idea of mind control in the form of the “brain slugs” which would latch onto the boy’s head and negate the player’s ability to move freely. INSIDE takes this to a much more sinister level. Despite the futuristic setting, the mindless drones of this game are much more reminiscent of the zombies of old. The original zombie of Haitian lore, though also a walking corpse, was not a flesh-craving monster spawned from pathogens or radioactivity, but instead a docile human shell reanimated via voodoo for the express purpose of slavery, requiring little nourishment and no rest or compensation. The INSIDE zombies are just as harmless and resilient, but also as creepy, with their slumped posture, sloppy gait, and monotonous grunting. As cruel as it seems, the boy must use these unfortunate creatures to progress via a mind-control helmet. While he wears it, the player may control one or multiple test subjects to help the boy move heavier objects or toss him to higher areas. We never learn how this fate had befallen them, nor whether they’re even aware of what’s happened to them, but the disturbing results speak for themselves. They are puppets of flesh that exist only to do the bidding of another, nothing more.
In this world I think George Orwell would appreciate, the choice of making the humans’ faces literally blank is as disquietingly symbolic as it is fascinating. It suggests that the boy and the test subjects are little more than objects to be owned and manipulated rather than living, breathing human beings to be loved and respected. As for the scientists and the apparent ruling class that oversees the experiments—all of whom are seen wearing face-concealing masks—, it indicates a severe lack of empathy and a cold, calculating mentality toward their fellow man. And get this: in some shots, they even have children and babies (also masked) among their ranks, a subtle but brilliantly evil touch.
A lack of information does not equal a lack in personal connection, a lesson Playdead once again teaches us in spades. INSIDE is more than a worthy successor to another acclaimed title and a smooth and polished game in its own right. It utilizes and embodies many, if not all, of the best aspects of the horror genre: beautifully eerie visuals; a relentlessly dark atmosphere; a reliance on slow, lingering dread rather than cheap jump scares; a twist ending I can guarantee you will not see coming; and best of all, a wordless and ambiguous narrative that stirs the imagination, revealing only just enough to fuel discussion as to the meaning behind this game’s mysterious world. Not to mention that grim, all-consuming question of just how much control the player has over their own destiny . . . assuming they even have control over their own actions—or their very selves—to begin with.
CREDITS:
All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.
MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund
In his most famous novel, The Alchemist, Paulo Choelho gave this quote through his title character:
“Everything that happens once can never happen again. But everything that happens twice will surely happen a third time.”
So what does such a philosophical statement have to do an indie puzzle-platform video game set in a dark and horrifying dystopian world? Well, I’ll tell you. I was motivated to buy an XBOX 360 for the sole purpose of playing LIMBO, another indie puzzle-platform video game set in a dark and horrifying dystopian world, the first by the Danish independent developer Playdead and one of my all-time favorite games. As fate would have it—and I swear I absolutely did not plan this—, it was Playdead’s second game which prompted me to open up a Steam account so that I could play it on my PC without paying an arm and a leg. Of course, I’ve purchased and played many more excellent games on both systems since then. But I can’t help but smile when I wonder: if and when Playdead releases their third game (in development as of 2017), will I go three-for-three, buy and play it first on yet another system? Only time will tell. But until then, that second game will certainly tide me over, just as LIMBO did before it.
There is no life in the forest. Still leaves litter the ground like corpses; sickly streaks of sunlight bring no warmth to the cold, grey air; and even the wind seems reluctant to disturb the eerie silence. All of a sudden, something rustles from atop a lonely crag. A figure drops to the ground: a boy in a red shirt. He races through the woods, whether from danger or towards salvation, he does not say. But he is not as alone as he first appears. Men with riffles and dogs stand watch, ready to hunt the boy down should he be spotted. He soon discovers they are part of an organization which performs dangerous mind-control experiments, reducing their human guinea pigs to zombified automatons devoid of all will and identity. Having now found himself in the heart of their hellish facility, the boy must uncover the purpose of these insane experiments while surviving murderous watchmen, vicious traps, and emotionless scientists, lest he and his own mind become their next research specimens.
It’s near impossible to discuss this game without comparing it to its predecessor, but considering how good the latter turned out—and how the former improved on its format—, I’m not complaining in the slightest. True, certain core details are identical. A small child finds himself in a hostile and frightening world, alone and pursued by enemies for reasons the player and possibly the protagonist himself don’t know. Once again, the narrative is learned only through play: there is no dialogue or text to give context to the game’s setting, a purpose for the boy being there in the first place, or motives for the enemies so dead set on capturing or killing him. Controls are simplified to move, jump, and interact (holding, pushing and pulling, etc.) And just as the LIMBO boy had his face hidden in black silhouette, save for his bright white eyes, the INSIDE boy has no face at all, an artistic detail that just as strongly adds to the mystery of his identity and backstory. The death traps are just as plentiful and gruesome this time around, and oftentimes, unfortunately, must be experienced firsthand in order for players to understand what not to do in order to progress—and survive.
So much for the superficial similarities. INSIDE could easily be nicknamed LIMBO 2.0, but it is no clone by any stretch. To begin with, rather than monochrome shadow puppet visuals in 2D, this side scroller is in 2.5D with color, putting every physical, unnerving detail on full display. Whereas his LIMBO counterpart was like a paper doll in both appearance and motion, the INSIDE boy looks and feels much more natural, from the way he stumbles while running from an enemy, to the way he doubles over and pants heavily from exhaustion after swimming for his life. (That’s a new feature, too, not drowning the instant his head is submerged.) The aforementioned color is very muted and washed-out to maintain the bleak atmosphere; even the boy’s distinctive red shirt barely stands out as more than a dirty brown-hued grey in areas not brightly lit. But that doesn’t make his myriad death scenes any less horrifying, whether he’s being mauled by savage dogs, shot or strangled by guards, tased by robots, or drowned by the black-haired, Ring-esque nymph-like creature haunting the facility’s watery depths.
A fun fact regarding returning composer Martin Stig Andersen’s approach to INSIDE’s eerie sounds. Rather than a traditional soundtrack, Andersen instead created the game’s ambient music—as sparse as that of LIMBO--by filtering his score through a human skull. Yes, a real human skull! The resulting vibrations serve a dual purpose. The low and somber chords linger oppressively, as if to smother the boy’s hope of respite. At the same time, they complement the artificiality of this dystopian world while emphasizing its sheer monstrousness; they don’t accompany the technological environment so much as merge with it, creating an unseen but very much live entity in which the boy is little more than a fragile, flesh-and-bone insect. One particular musical portion intrigued me. Recall, all you LIMBO players, the sequence in which the white-eyed, shadow-clad boy must make his way past laser-activated machine guns. The music played then is arguably, and rather ironically, the most relaxing and peaceful in the whole game. In fact, the piece has since been unofficially titled by fans, “Machine Gun Tranquility.” Andersen does something similar in the latter half of one of the most infamous and lethal sections of INSIDE. Here, the boy finds himself within a massive atrium in which an unseen device in the distance sends out powerful shock waves which will blast him apart if he is unshielded. In a strangely beautiful juxtaposition, we hear another ambient piece that flows with a calm, dreamlike, and I daresay even uplifting serenity, as if to mock the boy with a false sense of security, while lying in wait to strike when he is at his most exposed.
Speaking of bringing life from the dead, LIMBO briefly touched upon the idea of mind control in the form of the “brain slugs” which would latch onto the boy’s head and negate the player’s ability to move freely. INSIDE takes this to a much more sinister level. Despite the futuristic setting, the mindless drones of this game are much more reminiscent of the zombies of old. The original zombie of Haitian lore, though also a walking corpse, was not a flesh-craving monster spawned from pathogens or radioactivity, but instead a docile human shell reanimated via voodoo for the express purpose of slavery, requiring little nourishment and no rest or compensation. The INSIDE zombies are just as harmless and resilient, but also as creepy, with their slumped posture, sloppy gait, and monotonous grunting. As cruel as it seems, the boy must use these unfortunate creatures to progress via a mind-control helmet. While he wears it, the player may control one or multiple test subjects to help the boy move heavier objects or toss him to higher areas. We never learn how this fate had befallen them, nor whether they’re even aware of what’s happened to them, but the disturbing results speak for themselves. They are puppets of flesh that exist only to do the bidding of another, nothing more.
In this world I think George Orwell would appreciate, the choice of making the humans’ faces literally blank is as disquietingly symbolic as it is fascinating. It suggests that the boy and the test subjects are little more than objects to be owned and manipulated rather than living, breathing human beings to be loved and respected. As for the scientists and the apparent ruling class that oversees the experiments—all of whom are seen wearing face-concealing masks—, it indicates a severe lack of empathy and a cold, calculating mentality toward their fellow man. And get this: in some shots, they even have children and babies (also masked) among their ranks, a subtle but brilliantly evil touch.
A lack of information does not equal a lack in personal connection, a lesson Playdead once again teaches us in spades. INSIDE is more than a worthy successor to another acclaimed title and a smooth and polished game in its own right. It utilizes and embodies many, if not all, of the best aspects of the horror genre: beautifully eerie visuals; a relentlessly dark atmosphere; a reliance on slow, lingering dread rather than cheap jump scares; a twist ending I can guarantee you will not see coming; and best of all, a wordless and ambiguous narrative that stirs the imagination, revealing only just enough to fuel discussion as to the meaning behind this game’s mysterious world. Not to mention that grim, all-consuming question of just how much control the player has over their own destiny . . . assuming they even have control over their own actions—or their very selves—to begin with.
CREDITS:
All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.
MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund
EPISODE SONG:
“Mind Meld” - composed by Briand Morrison, arranged by Erika Adams
“Mind Meld” - composed by Briand Morrison, arranged by Erika Adams
All other music and sound clips are from INSIDE (directed by Arnt Jensen; developed and published by Playdead).
Download the full 15-minute episode here!
INSIDE on Wikipedia
Playdead on Wikipedia
Playdead's Official Website
Buy and Play INSIDE on Steam
Buy INSIDE on Playstation Network
Buy INSIDE at the App Store
Buy INSIDE at GameStop
Buy INSIDE on Amazon
^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences
Download the full 15-minute episode here!
INSIDE on Wikipedia
Playdead on Wikipedia
Playdead's Official Website
Buy and Play INSIDE on Steam
Buy INSIDE on Playstation Network
Buy INSIDE at the App Store
Buy INSIDE at GameStop
Buy INSIDE on Amazon
^^ Back to Video Games, Simulations, and Other Interactive Experiences