posted 10-28-2000 02:37 AM               

Suspense is, perhaps, the most powerful device in all of storytelling, or at least the most efficient. Once an author has done the work to create suspense—a state of heightened anticipation in the audience—he can continue to reap the rewards long after the set-up. The true power of suspense is that it lives in mind of the audience member, not on the screen or the page. This has the twofold benefit that 1) fear and anticipation of the unknown (or even of the known) are far more powerful in one’s imagination than any direct depiction could capture, and 2) the author can continue to elicit emotion from the audience without having to incur the many costs associated with actually depicting that which the audience fears.

The principles of suspense are surprisingly similar across media (literature, film, television, games) and across genre (comedy, drama, horror, pornography). In this article I will focus on the kind of suspense surrounding impending scary and nasty events, which relates well to my article on horror. Interestingly, it also relates well to my article on hiding secrets in 1-player platform games.

After laying out the basics, I’ll go over four examples from film (Psycho, Reservoir Dogs, Scream, and the Blair Witch Project), and compare two examples in games (Resident Evil 2 and Silent Hill).

The first step in creating suspense is to create the ‘credible threat’ that something might happen. This can be done through a myriad of circumstantial clues, or by actual example. To establish the threat that characters can die, for example, kill off a character early. Once the credible threat has been established, the real fun begins. Every subtlety becomes further beautiful torture for the audience. The glint of a knife under an overcoat conjures up images more frightening than an actual stabbing would. The squint of an eye, the tinge of maniacal laughter, and every other detail hint at whatever terrible event is to come. Suddenly every shadowy corner—normally boring and non-descript—becomes a possible harbinger of doom.

I know I said I’d stick to the kind of suspense related to the anticipation of bad things, but the connection to sex is just too strong. The anticipation is the thing. The actual pay-off lasts only a matter of seconds, but the anticipation—given that the credible threat has been established—can go on for hours. A dark corner is not scary, and a caress of the nose isn’t sexy, but both can be once the proper anticipation has been established. The actual pay-offs of sex or violence can occur only a very limited number of times before they become more boring than exciting or shocking. The are virtually no limits, though, to the sweet agony of anticipation. This means that the most suspenseful and engaging of works can be filled with vast stretches of what would otherwise be called ‘emptiness,’ filled only with anticipation.

Now let’s turn to four examples from film, starting with the most subtle and ending with the most extreme.

Psycho
Who better to teach us about suspense than the master of the form himself: Alfred Hitchcock. Psycho at first appears to be about the troubles with money and love of one Miss Marion Crane (Janet Leigh), but then suddenly becomes the story of something else entirely once Marion arrives at the Bates Motel. The suspense created in the scenes where Marion talks with Norman Bates and then retires to her room is created almost entirely within those scenes, rather than before. The preceding scenes do demonstrate that no one knows where Marion is and that the Bates Motel is a remote and isolated location, but the credible threat is established during Marion’s ostensibly pleasant chit-chat with Norman Bates.

The audience realizes much more than Marion—that Norman is a little off in the head, and that his mother is at least as troubled. Marion sits in a room filled with stuffed birds, due to Norman’s rather odd hobby of taxidermy. In essence, she is surrounded by death…in the form of birds, and even with a last name like Crane, she doesn’t realize at all the danger she’s in. This is called Dramatic Irony, since the audience knows something the character doesn’t. The audience is able to put the various clues together to form the credible threat of danger, even though Marion is oblivious.

It’s the dramatic irony, I believe, that gives these scenes their power. The audience wants to yell out to Marion that she should leave immediately, that every door she opens could be dangerous, that every shower she takes….

Reservoir Dogs
Reservoir Dogs employs a truly painful amount of suspense in the torture scene between Mr. Blond and the cop. Unlike Psycho, the set-up for this came long before the actual torture scene; the credible threat of what Mr. Blond might do is established bit by bit from the beginning of the film all the way to that scene. We hear Mr. White and Mr. Pink discuss Blond’s psychotic killing spree in the heist gone wrong. We hear the gangsters’ attitude that “cops aren’t real people.” By the time Mr. Blond is alone with the Cop, the credible threat of violence has been amply established. Writer/Director Tarantino, fully aware of this, draws out the scene, allowing the audience’s imaginations to run wild.

Even though 95% of the torture scene consists of Mr. Blond dancing around telling jokes, the scene is remembered as excruciatingly violent. Almost all of this violence is in the mind of the viewer. Even during the actual act of violence that does occur, all we are shown is about 14 seconds of an empty doorway. But Tarantino doesn’t stop there. He’s established beyond any doubt that Mr. Blond is capable of anything, both through foreshadowing hearsay and through actual example. At this point, all Mr. Blond need do is threaten an even more horrible and unthinkable act, and the anticipation and mental horror the audience must endure becomes far more terrible than depiction of this act would ever be. Tarantino draws out the threat of this act as long as possible…and actual completion of the act isn’t needed, since it’s been happening for over two minutes in everyone’s minds. He uses this climactic moment to deliver a totally unexpected turn of the plot…but that’s another story.

Scream
In Scream, writer/director Kevin Williamson simultaneously employs the principles of suspense and makes fun of them. Scream is also a notable example of the power an opening sequence can have.

Scream’s opening sequence is a self-contained vignette with a beginning, middle, and end. Suspense is built during the sequence as Casey Becker (Drew Barrymore) realizes the very credible threat that the man on the phone might kill her. (Interesting Note: Hitchcock, with Psycho, was the first director to kill off the huge star (Janet Leigh) for the sheer shock value of it. At that time no audience expected the biggest name in the film to be killed so early. Williamson’s homage to this was killing off the biggest star of Scream, Drew Barrymore, in the very first scene!)

Although the opening sequence is self-contained, the interesting note is that the opening sequence itself is the credible threat of violence for the entire rest of the movie. The nebulous danger of a killer out there somewhere would simply not have the power to fill every corridor and closet with suspenseful danger had we not been shown the brutal murder at the beginning. The opening sequence establishes ample credible threat, and it also establishes the film’s genre, which is another topic entirely.

Williamson pokes quite a bit of fun at the device of suspense by creating numerous moments of anticipation out of completely unscary things. In Scream 2, he trains the audience to be so afraid of a phone call from the killer that the very sound of ring, and later the sound of computer instant message(!)—makes the audience jump. Williamson’s crowning moment is the 10 minute scene in Scream 2 where Sydney (Nev Campbell) and her friend Hallie (Elise Neal) are trapped in a car and must climb over the unconscious body of the killer to escape. This scene is excruciatingly long and incredibly suspenseful…but the joke is on us. Absolutely nothing happens, and the two escape the car without incident. Ha! Based on the earlier credible threats of violence, Williamson essentially got 10 minutes of engaging screentime “for free.”

The Blair Witch Project
This film is the jewel and total embodiment of suspense. It is a film consisting almost entirely of nothing at all, yet somehow, the endless hiking and bickering are made into a disturbing and engaging experience for the audience. The credible threat of danger is established through the curious device of beginning the film by telling us the main characters have died. This allows the ENTIRE film to be come alive with suspense—with the anticipation—of the death they will inevitably face.

The Blair Witch Project also joins the long tradition of creating emotion (in this case fear) entirely within the mind of the viewer, rather than through direct images on screen. Perhaps the most frightening moment of the entire film is when the hikers discover three piles of sticks near their tent, representing their three impending deaths. This is the first moment they realize that their fears are not just imaginary—someone or something is really out there. I have never been so completely terrified of a small pile of twigs in my life.

Resident Evil 2 vs. Silent Hill

I suppose it’s finally time for this article on suspense in games to mention an actual game. I’m sure you’ve been waiting—even anticipating—this moment the entire time. Suspenseful wasn’t it?

Resident Evil 2 (PlayStation) and Silent Hill (PlayStation) are both very similar games. They’re both horror games that rely heavily on obnoxious and poor puzzle design, and they both have settings full of shadows and the undead. Silent Hill’s game engine is more advanced, and its fog effect is a great example of a technological limitation turned into a design strength, conveying a feeling of isolation and fear of the unknown. For this reason, Silent Hill is probably “scarier” for the first 10 minutes.

But Resident Evil 2 really mops the floor with Silent Hill. There’s no comparison. Resident Evil 2 uses many of the concepts I’ve covered so far to establish the credible threat of danger. Its opening sequence starts the player about 2 inches away from a pack of zombies he has no hope of killing or running away from, since the player doesn’t even know the controls to shoot or run yet. This would ordinarily be considered poor design, but it’s perfect in a horror game. It establishes that enemies are hard to kill, and that you can die in this game. And die you will.

Resident Evil 2 also has a few moments here and there of a planned and scripted scary event, such as hands reaching out of the wall at you, crows shattering a window and swarming you, and the unforgettable “licker” jumping through the one-way interrogation window at you. These moments establish the credible threat that some scary might happen at any moment. This means the one thousand other moments when nothing scary actually happens, the player is still on his toes because something just might. Every corner becomes scary (thanks to the cleverly useless camera angles that are designed to limit the player’s view). Every hallway looks menacing. Resident Evil knows the difference between creating a scary looking environment, and an environment that actually is scary.

Meanwhile, Silent Hill with all its advanced graphics creates zero moments of scariness. It never establishes any credible threat of danger or surprise. The player soon learns he can run around in the dark in a graveyard all he pleases, and that at worst he’ll encounter a standard, helpless, familiar monster. The game is totally lacking in suspense, and as a result it feels boring, hollow, and empty.

I’ll leave you with this sobering thought. Consider the work that went into both of these games. Both games created an entire world for the player to navigate. Both had music, sound effects, 3D models, textures, and animation. And after all that work, Silent Hill delivered a flat experience, while Resident Evil 2 delivered a memorable one—all because of a few scripted scary moments that made up about 2% of the game. That 2% of the game was all that was needed to establish the credible threat that is the seed of suspense. This incredible “bang for the buck” just goes to show the true efficiency and power of suspenseful writing and design.

posted 06-19-2002 04:11 PM               

I am just going to discuss the theories on the "Silent Hill vs Resident Evil 2" comments.

I am affraid I have to disagree with the ideas of suspense of those games, and strongly against the comment of "boring" towards "Silent Hill".

"Silent Hill" uses a growing build-up of suspense as the game builds. What is achieves, rather than the sudden "jump-scares" of RE2, it continues to build up on you. The gradual confusion of the game and the atmopshere adds far more scares I think than RE2.
I am a fan of both games. RE2 is an amazing game, and I love it, but I have to say the scares it has bare more on the cliche than actual scares. Indeed, I agree totally that the monsters are more of a threat in RE2 than SH. Certainly, your average "Licker" beats most of the bosses in SH. And they are more to fear in that case.

But what Silent Hill does is focus more on the human psyche than some fantasy world. It deals with totally drawing the player deep into its conscience. It plays on the players fears, and there are genuine shock-jumps too! The cat out of the locker for one! But it works so much on the inner-fears of the player, that I would say this game is far more scary than RE2. By a long way. To be honest, RE2 did have some scares, especially with the final boss, but it never filled me with the dread of SH.

posted 06-20-2002 10:46 AM               

I recently rewatched Alien, which is a wonderfully suspenseful piece of cinematic work. Even though I knew exactly what was going to happen when, there is still much enjoyment to be had watching the characters muddle through the predicament set before them. The joy is that you have complete information while the characters do not.

The question is whether or not players have the same experience when playing through a game. Scripted events are great for shocking the player and triggering a sudden burst of adrenaline. However, the impact is lessened, even annoying should the player go through that section again.

Suspense can also be created very effectively through judicious use of sound. System Shock 2 is one of the creepiest games in recent memory, primarily because of its use of sound. You hear the enemies long before you ever see them. Again the idea is that you only give the player partial information, but enough to establish that they should remain alert.

Okay, I think I've drilled that point to death. Of course, the important point is the next one, namely that of balance between letting the player win and providing a serious challenge. Two of my core design tenets are that you must 1.) let the player win, and 2.) let the player lose.

I'll start with the second one, since it ties in better to suspense. This is the "credible threat" thing that is mentioned. Most games do a good job of this. The player will lose a lot. This is good game design. However, it's only good if feedback is provided about why the player lost, and if the player is given a chance to win.

For example, take any number of recent shooters where the player must run a gauntlet of snipers (e.g. Jedi Knight II, MoH:AA). Sure, snipers will make the player very wary. However, if you place a sniper around *every* corner, this becomes a predictable and tedious experience. More over, if the snipers kill you instantly every time, the game degenerates into a quicksave/quickload exercise. This is poor game design. Withholding information is fine, but you can't expect the player to have ESP or infinitely fast reflexes.

posted 07-30-2002 09:52 PM               

I'm not really going to get into that, though...I ust wanted to mention it. I did, though, want to point out that Silent Hill does offer up a rather nice credible threat in the beginning. Remember the beginning, where Harry runs down the alley (with it's lovely insane camera angles)? And what waits him at the end? If not, I'll remind you: he's mobbed by the game's "child monsters" and outright killed by them. He wakes up, mysteriously unharmed...but the game has just established that it can kill you anytime it wants.

Anyhow, excellent article (among many), but I think you messed up on your fact checking. It never does to insult what many consider the scariest game of all time, too...

(edits: so...many...typos...arrgh)

posted 07-31-2002 04:09 AM            

Res Evil is saturated with pop scares to the point where you expect something to break through the window the moment you see it, just because it would be a prime cantidate. If it doesn't, fine and dandy. You've explored it, it may have spooked you when you first saw it, and now it's "Safe" (Barring of course rare "Resets" that change safe places into dangers). If you read Penny Arcade often (And you should, 'cause they just plugged your 'site), you'll recall they once took a jab at Capcom survival horror games by stating that, in the end, their horror formulas basically amount to "Stuff pops out of windows".

Silent Hill goes completely the opposite direction. No cheap scares. Most of the time, you know when something's coming a mile away, thanks to the nice "Monster detector". This has been a proven and effective device long before Silent Hill- Remember Jaws? Alien(s)? Three undeniably incredible (And very effective) scary monster movies that used the "Monster detector" to great effect- When it's on, your senses go all alert and you search every corner for what is an invisible but undeniably present threat. When it's off, your ears are acutely focused at the first sign of its return. Perhaps it's something just "Passing through". Perhaps not. That's a wild card that's far more realistic.

Were the monsters in Silent Hill easier? Certainly. But I find this amounts to a lesser challenge in the game, not a lesser scare. Just as in Resident Evil 2, the main character is placed in a just as hopeless situation in the beginning to establish threat (Or have you forgotten the dark transformation after the initial chase for the main character's daughter, where he's massacred by little demonic meat children things?). That and the quiet and deserted atmosphere (And later the disturbing imagery) make for all the suspense needed. The fact that the enemies' attacks aren't fatal is irrelevant- In either game, death only means you get a game over screen. How does this make the game scarier?

Further, Silent Hill does something also most effective- it takes something familliar and makes it alien. Sure, the police station, mansion, and whatnot are all fairly realistic locales (So long as you count out the absurd puzzles that plague the genre), but almost everyone is intimately familiar with the quaint-looking suburban neighborhood. Many of us grew up in them, and those that haven't have almost certainly been to many in our time.

Then, to see something we all know so well, with everything so horribly amiss, can be far more unnerving than to see an unfamilliar place in disorder. Why are there no people in the police station? Seems pretty obvious, considering all the blood and bodies laying about. Why are there no people in the town? Why has everyone dissapeared? Why are there giant rifts in the streets, gigantic chasms where maps show solid road? What could have caused this?

In the second scenario, we are no longer asking what happened to an imaginary place, we're asking what happened to this place that should be just like the picture we have in our minds. And the lack of explanation again causes us to create our own explanations, and imagine a fear that, gameplay-wise, is much larger than actually exists.
In the end, I feel Resident Evil has the game designers trying to fool us, maybe looking for dangers where there are none, or creating dangers where we didn't expect them. Silent Hill has us fooling ourselves, allowing our own fears to dictate where and what danger is. Resident Evil has us fearing obvious nothings- a crack in the floor, an untouched window, from where unspoken dangers are about to pounce. Silent Hill has us fearing everything. In a world where everything is turned upside-down, who's to say where I am now is safe? It's not as it should be, and that in itself makes me uneasy. Resident Evil's worlds? Who's to say how they should have been.

I believe that different people have different things that set them off, insofar as fear and suspense go. Some wouldn't find either game to be scary, while some would find both terrifying. Some people work fear out in a rational way- If these monsters are pathetically weak, and the "Scenery" can't hurt me, it's not scary at all. In this respect, I suppose I can understand how Silent Hill didn't "click" with you. But to other people, there are far scarier things than overwhelming odds and overpowering opponents. Unpredictability and unreliability can do terrible things to the mind....

-CaspianX (Aside from that, though, I absolutely love your articles- they're a great insight into the philosophy of game design, and even game play)

posted 02-20-2003 02:38 PM               

I have actually found that people who tend to play comuter games a lot (like me 8)) become somewhat immune to it...

It is like, you are so used to various demons/zombies/unbeatable top players coming right out any time you least expect them, that you dish the very notion of expecting anything and live by the possibilities, like: "I'd say that there is an 85% chance that something will jump from out there... Yep, jump it did ". And then you make that something catch the necessary amount of bullets to cease being a threat and proceed to calculate the further possibilities.

When i watched "Reservoir Dogs" i actually got tired of mr.White dancing around and breathed a sign of relief ("Finally! He did it at last... Took him long enough!") when he finally proceeded to ear-cutting.

Though i must say that without suspense elements, this movie would not provoke any feelings in me whatsoever. The annoyance of having to wait is still much better than absolutely nothing.

In sum - suspence is good. But without more powerful substance, it is not good enough.

posted 02-20-2003 02:38 PM               

I have actually found that people who tend to play comuter games a lot (like me 8)) become somewhat immune to it...

It is like, you are so used to various demons/zombies/unbeatable top players coming right out any time you least expect them, that you dish the very notion of expecting anything and live by the possibilities, like: "I'd say that there is an 85% chance that something will jump from out there... Yep, jump it did ". And then you make that something catch the necessary amount of bullets to cease being a threat and proceed to calculate the further possibilities.

When i watched "Reservoir Dogs" i actually got tired of mr.White dancing around and breathed a sign of relief ("Finally! He did it at last... Took him long enough!") when he finally proceeded to ear-cutting.