Ass backwards as I like to go about these things, Fatal Frame II was my first introduction to the series, a delightful masterpiece of survival horror that piqued my interest to try its inception title this Halloween season. Having heard Fatal Frame being described as a tech demo for the PS2 over the years, I find that distinction a bit patronizing and unfair, considering how successfully the series hits it out of the park on its first try.
Fatal Frame is a testament to the aesthetic prowess and hoist Shintoism is capable of instilling in the horror genre, placing the player in an otherwordly creacky dilapidated mansion of suffocating folkloric symbolism and eerie culturally alien soundscapes drenched in darkness that elevate its humble Resident Evil-like fixed angle backtracking into one of the most oppressive and nerve-racking house of horrors that has you dreading getting past static kimono stands and samurai armor statues.
The highlight of Fatal Frame is of course its antagonistic force: the ghosts. Not just the crafsmanship put into their creepy and unsettling designs and the inherent capacity ghosts have to scare the shit out of us, but ultimately the concept of having to dispel them using a photo camera. Forcing the player to gaze straight into fear as it slowly glides towards them until the very last moment is one of the most ingenious design choices ever conceived in the genre that affirm videogames as the superior venue to explore horror, placing the responsibility of creating tension and scares on the one holding the controller.
Fatal Frame II is a refined revision of the concepts presented by its predecessor, improving upon the established core gameplay loop and retelling much of the same story, ideas and themes of ritualistic dogmas imposing on individualism in a more confident coat of paint that might make the first entry obsolete in the eyes of many. But as the foundation of the entire franchise, Fatal Frame is a singular cohesive haunting experience that doesn't overstay its welcome and utilizes the early stages of PS2 development to invoke one of the scariest games of all time.
Fatal Frame is a testament to the aesthetic prowess and hoist Shintoism is capable of instilling in the horror genre, placing the player in an otherwordly creacky dilapidated mansion of suffocating folkloric symbolism and eerie culturally alien soundscapes drenched in darkness that elevate its humble Resident Evil-like fixed angle backtracking into one of the most oppressive and nerve-racking house of horrors that has you dreading getting past static kimono stands and samurai armor statues.
The highlight of Fatal Frame is of course its antagonistic force: the ghosts. Not just the crafsmanship put into their creepy and unsettling designs and the inherent capacity ghosts have to scare the shit out of us, but ultimately the concept of having to dispel them using a photo camera. Forcing the player to gaze straight into fear as it slowly glides towards them until the very last moment is one of the most ingenious design choices ever conceived in the genre that affirm videogames as the superior venue to explore horror, placing the responsibility of creating tension and scares on the one holding the controller.
Fatal Frame II is a refined revision of the concepts presented by its predecessor, improving upon the established core gameplay loop and retelling much of the same story, ideas and themes of ritualistic dogmas imposing on individualism in a more confident coat of paint that might make the first entry obsolete in the eyes of many. But as the foundation of the entire franchise, Fatal Frame is a singular cohesive haunting experience that doesn't overstay its welcome and utilizes the early stages of PS2 development to invoke one of the scariest games of all time.