Dark Book Review:
Screaming for Pleasure – How Horror Makes You Happy and Healthy
Review by Casey
Douglass
I’ve always known
that horror was good for me. Except when I was so scared that I
struggled to sleep at night for fear of nightmares. I was young then
though, and once I became interested in dark things, the fear was
replaced by fascination, and also, the courage to look more closely.
S.A Bradley’s book: Screaming for Pleasure – How Horror Makes
You Happy and Healthy, as you would imagine, is focussed on the
notion of horror being beneficial, but as in most good books, its
scope is wider than you might imagine.
A quick perusal of the
chapter headings soon shows the various areas into which the book
delves, from the mechanics of horror, what it actually is, the way
that horror handles certain themes such as sex and gore, all the way
to the various forms it takes, from film to books and music. I must
admit that going in, I didn’t realise how broadly the book would
roam, and it was a pleasant surprise to be confronted with such a
range of topics.
There were plenty of
areas that I hadn’t really thought too deeply about before, such as
what the communal experience of watching horror on a big screen
brings the viewers, and also the way that we get into horror, the
often illicit “your parents say you can’t” kind of thrill that
watching a “video nasty” might provide. Ah VHS, you little
plasticy bastards, with your cute plastic windows that let greedy
eyes feast on your coiled insides, wondering what you might throw
onto the screen. Good times. Each section of Screaming for
Pleasure also ends with an info-box of recommendations or
interesting facts, from notorious sacrilegious horror movies, to a
list of horror movies and the phobias that they play on. This is a
nice touch to round off the chapter, and a great way to learn about
horrors that you may not have heard of.
Even though I enjoyed
the author’s analysis of the more intellectual/mechanical sides of
horror, it was his own stories about how it helped him that I found
most gripping. From helping his younger self deal with the turbulence
in his early home life, to the time in later life when the horror
community proved to be a valuable tonic to his feelings of isolation.
In my own experience, I know the sanctuary that a good horror can
provide at those times that life seems especially shit, be that by way
of book, film or music, so it was really interesting to see how it
helped someone else in the same way.
Screaming for
Pleasure – How Horror Makes You Happy and Healthy is a worthy
read for anyone that views themselves as a horror fan, or anyone that
would just like to understand what draws people to horror itself. The
variety of sections and horror suggestions it contains, married to
the author’s personal experiences of it enriching his own life, all
add up to make a book that has been lovingly produced, and I am sure,
will be lovingly read by those that read it.
Visit Hellbent for Horror at this link for more information and purchasing links.
I was given a review
copy of this book.
Book Title:
Screaming for Pleasure - How Horror Makes You Happy and Healthy
Dark Ambient News: Cryo Chamber Field Recording Sale
I nearly always love dark ambient music that features plenty of field recording, whether it's the sound of the wind rustling leaves in a forest, or the rumble of traffic on a rainy day, it just deepens the soundscape so much.
Recent years have
brought gamers some fantastic episodic adventure games, but for me
Big Bad Wolf’s The Council has to be the darkest I’ve
encountered, both in the characters’ deeds, and in the game’s
aesthetics. I’m a big fan of Dennis Wheatley, particularly his Duke
de Richleau character, the intelligent occultist gentleman who always
has some piece of arcane knowledge that will get the characters out
of trouble. The Council felt very “de Richleauian” to me,
and about half an hour into the story, I knew that I felt at home.
The player character is
Louis de Richet, a young man who in 1793, is invited to the island of
Lord Mortimer, a powerful and mysterious figure who seems to know
pretty much everyone mighty and powerful. Louis’ mother is also on
the island, but she has gone missing, with no one knowing where she
is. Both she and her son are members of a secret society, a society
that wields its own power across the world. As Louis, you must find
out what happened to your mother, deal with the intrigues of your
host and his powerful guests, and also grow as a person in your
knowledge and abilities.
The Council is a
third person narrative adventure game. As you walk around Lord
Mortimer’s island, you can interact with the characters and various
other objects in a number of ways. When speaking to a character, you
will often see a variety of conversation options to choose from. Some
won’t be available to you, because Louis might be lacking the
ability to use them at that time. As you complete tasks in the game,
and collect various manuscripts, you can boost Louis’ abilities in
a number of areas, from occult knowledge, to detective abilities such
as logic and agility. If you have enough Effort Points and the
correct ability unlocked, you can use that particular tactic during
the conversation.
There are a variety of
items to collect in the game world, from the hard to see collector’s
coins, to useful potions that restore Effort Points or highlight
other things, such as someone’s vulnerabilities for a short time.
Getting information out of your conversational partners, and their
trust, is key to achieving your aims in The Council, so
anything that boosts your abilities in this area is a welcome thing.
Even with the variety and number of pick-ups, things are still scarce
enough to mean that you will likely have some conversations the old
fashioned way, that is, without extra help. If you overuse certain
potions or make a blunder, your character can be hindered by a
de-buff that makes certain actions more costly. But hey, wouldn’t
you know it, finding and drinking some Golden Elixir will remove any
negative status effects, so things are golden in more ways than one.
The conversations are
where The Council truly shines. Each character has their own
personality, complete with vulnerabilities and immunities to
particular manners of approach. Trying to manipulate someone who is
immune to manipulation isn’t going to end well. Conversations are
used to probe and test, the dancing around the subject at hand just
as valuable as finding out what that character knows. There are times
when you will have to lie, others where brutal, risky honesty might
win the day. Slapping Napoleon Bonaparte to end a risky “what are
you doing?” conversation chain is just one of the ways that you can
deal with the challenges Louis faces. As the description on the
game’s Steam Store page says, failing an encounter isn’t game
over, but it will have consequences later.
As the characters are
so central to The Council, it is no surprise to see that they
are presented in
lovely detail, particularly their faces. I must
admit that Duchess Emily Hillsborrow was my absolute favourite
because she was dark, sarcastic, and seemed to channel Eva Green,
both in look and attitude. Her particular elements of the main story
were some of the most interesting too, a couple of “reveals”
genuinely twisting things to a new level. All of the characters were
fun though, out for themselves, scheming and duplicitous. The
location too, a grand mansion with room after room of obscure relics,
mystical artwork and books of knowledge, was a pleasure to explore.
The blue-sky view from the guest room was a particular highlight, and
later, the hidden places that aren’t visible unless you know their
secret entrances.
The
game gives Louis a fair few environmental puzzles to solve, from
decoding the cryptic clues needed to open a combination lock, to
using books and artwork to deduce how to find a rare artefact. The
puzzles were for the most part very enjoyable. I did get stuck on a
couple of them, but given enough time I was able to get to the bottom
of things. This proved very satisfying, as the game made me feel like
I had actually earned my progression. A couple of puzzles near the
end of the game were a bit tedious however, but still relatively fun.
I must admit that the game certainly gets great mileage out of its
mansion location, but traversing the corridors and various rooms
never seems to take too long, which is a fine balance to achieve.
My first play-through
of The Council lasted around 12 hours, and the ending I
achieved was so dark that I couldn’t help but smile. Before
playing, I had seen a number of people say that they loved the game
until the final episode or two, when things slipped a little. For my
play-through, I don’t really recognise this. The story is layered,
and as you play and reveal more and more of what is going on, the
things you previously thought you understood sometimes shift, or
sometimes solidify. I didn’t feel the rug was pulled out from under
me, nor was I confused about what was going on. The only reason I can
see for the comments of the people who didn’t like the way it went
is that it somehow confounded their expectations of what the game
would be like. Go into The Council with occult-detective in
mind and I don’t think you'll be disappointed. I wasn’t.
I really want to play
The Council again, taking the other options that I either
messed up or ignored the first time. This is
also something that is very rare for me, as when it comes to “your
decisions have consequences” narrative games, I nearly always only
play once, get my own version of the story, and move on. This is
mainly because I like feeling that my outcome happened, and replaying
over and over to get “all the endings” just lessens the impact of
that first enjoyable jaunt through the game.
The Council has planted the
urge in me to learn more about its world and characters, and to try
and “better” the first ending I got. There is something about its
dark mansion, masked servants and conversational combat that is
trying to drag me straight back in, and I know it is a call I will
answer soon. That being said, I am reasonably sure that my next
attempt at the game will be my last, as thinking ahead with the
knowledge I already have, the amount of repetition in a third
play-through would be too tedious for me to fancy. Still, two
journeys through the story will likely equal around 20 hours of play
time, in a game world with characters I enjoy interacting with, so
I’m more than happy enough with that.
If you know that you
enjoy the Telltale or Life is Strange episodic adventure
variety of game, but fancy something more layered, dark and
RPG-esque, I highly recommend that you pick up The Council.
I'm not feeling very wordy of late, but I wanted to do a little post about a charity bundle that helps a worthy cause, and is also a fantastic way to boost your dark ambient music collection. Dark ambient label Cryo Chamber has put up 10 albums (with another to unlock shortly) for sale in the usual bundle fashion: the more you pay, the more you get.
Currently, in the $2 minimum category: 2145 by Sabled Sun, Winter Restlessness by Mount Shrine, The Old City OST by Atrium Carceri, Visitors by EXIMIA and Cthulhu by Cryo Chamber.
In the $4 category, as well as receiving the above, you currently get: Dredge Portals by God Body Disconnect, Be Left to Oneself by Keosz, Exoplanetary by Ruptured World, Markland by Northumbria and Heralds by World Clock.
Once the $2000 milestone has been reached (and it almost has), Miles to Midnight by Cryo Chamber will also be thrown into the mix for everyone.
The charity that is benefiting from these sales is the American Tinnitus Association, a body that has already funded tinnitus research to the tune of over $6 million since 1980, and most of this has been as seed grants into new promising areas of study.
The Cryo Chamber bundle ends 23 January 2019, so if you are interested, head over to the Groupees page here to purchase yours now.
Some dark ambient
albums just seem to ooze threat, the soundscapes they contain seeping
and glooping around the thoughts they create in the listener’s
mind. Oestergaard’s Maal Niir is one such album, containing
four tracks of lurking peril that drag the listener into the dark
happenings of another reality. They also created a bit of a dark
mental narrative for me as I was listening, which is something that I
always enjoy.
Maal Niir gets things
going, a track with a staticy rhythm and swells of dark tone. The
interesting thing for me was that near the midpoint, the static sound
became more akin to a flag flapping in the wind. Coupled with the
other sounds, this conjured a mental impression of a crumbling city
in a glowing fog, the only visible thing being a high tower with said
flag fluttering in the breeze. I also felt that a massive leviathan
shadow encircled the tower, a giant thing barely visible as a darker
shade of fog. Gentle piano notes begin to sound nearer the end of the
track, along with a squeaking grinding noise as the flag pole falls
to the ground.
Next up is Niirbrôtn',
a track that dragged me to a tunnel in the ground at the foot of the
tower. The track begins quietly, with a breathing-like swelling of
sound. A high tone occurs, like a bird call at distance, or it might
be a scream. Then a crackling, like a boot stepping on a bone-strewn
floor. A wave of static-distortion pulses along the tunnel at
intervals, creating the impression of flickering red light bathing
the walls before fading. This track, to me, was the entrance to hell,
and I mentally walked straight in.
Rásiirat darkens things even more. The sounds at
the start of Rásiirat begin like breathing, but soon turn into what
could be a guttural demonic conversation or chant. A little later, a
higher tone appears, the guttural demon words pausing around that
point. The image this track created in my mind was that an angel (the
high tone) might be dashing through hell for some reason, to give the
poor souls there hope. The demon listens and then continues its
chant, knowing that the intruder will soon be snuffed out by the
watchers that guard the realm.
Maal Niir then,
is a dark ambient album that I very much enjoyed. When an album
causes my mind to create a narrative, and each track seems to
progress that narrative, I often come away feeling quite the
connection to it. Maal Niir did this, but I think that even if
it hadn’t, I would have appreciated the darkness and bleakness it
contains. The tracks have a pulsing quality, the low tones breaking
against the mind like dark waves on a barren beach, each one helping
the grimness to push into the brain that little bit more, but gently,
calmly and patiently. If you like your dark ambient deep, dark and
ominous, check out Maal Niir on Bandcamp here. You can also
listen to the first track, Maal Niir, below:
I was given a review copy of this album. Album Title:
Maal Niir
If
you walk into a travel agent and ask for a primal destination, you’ll
probably get a baffled look and end up with a ticket to somewhere
with no toilet. In an ideal world, you would get a brilliant smile
and a ticket to an untamed planet somewhere far far away. Sadly, this
world is far from ideal, but just such a planet is envisioned in Dead
Melodies’ dark ambient album Primal Destination.
The
listener takes on the role of planetary explorer as the various
soundscapes Primal Destination contains unfold around you. There are
technological sounds such as static and electronic tones. There are
also field-recordings of nature, from the quiet dripping of water to
bird and animal calls that are twisted into something unusual and unfamiliar.
Both of these elements meet to conjure the ‘feel’ of the album,
which for me, was a chilled feeling of wandering among strange vistas.
I
think my favourite track is Subterraformed, a track that kind of
channelled a feeling of Lovecraft to me. It begins with dripping
water echoing in what seems to be an underground cavern. The bubbling
water that joins this a little later hints at the idea of a vast lake
stretching into the distance. Add in the distant drone and pulses of
ominous bass tone, and my mind was set to thinking about the entrance
to the abyss hidden deep under the Mountains of Madness.
Another
track that I really enjoyed was Pearlescent Dawn. Beginning with
sweeping birdsong and snatches of wind, the track creates a breathing
landscape, one with buzzing insect-like sounds and a mechanical feel.
For me, the “pearlescent” in the title made me bring to mind the
shimmering rainbow colours on the surface of an oil puddle, so I kind of viewed this as a scrapyard of alien technology. Actually, the
previous track, Somatic Mutation made me think of a robot graveyard,
so the technological feel of these tracks was clearly quite strong for me.
Glades
is also an intriguing track, containing a soundscape tinged with
swampy glugs and wind-swept threat. The strange animal/bird calls
feature here too, some of them even sound a little like the howling
of a wolf, but distorted into something a little different. There are
wading sounds a little later, and while this probably was meant to
suggest explorers pushing through, I had visions of a strange
cluster of creatures holding lanterns and walking through the mist in
a sombre procession. Both ways of viewing it are equally fun though.
Primal
Destination is just what its title suggests, an album containing raw and alien
soundscapes that takes the listener’s mind on a smooth, calm
journey through unknown valleys and caverns. The interplay of
technology and alien creatures adds a lovely amount of novelty to
things, and the soundscapes can all be enjoyed at an unhurried pace.
If you are a fan of sci-fi-based dark ambient / space ambient, you
should take a look at Primal Destination’s Bandcamp page here.
Check
out Pearlescent Dawn below:
I was given a review copy of this album. Album Title:
Primal Destination
I heard about Bird
Box in an almost incidental way. I saw a few pictures of Sandra
Bullock’s Malorie with her blindfold on, and had a friend recommend
it to me as a bit like A Quiet Place, but with blindfolds
instead of sign language. I managed to miss the apparent hype that
has taken place since its release, but having seen it today, I’m
glad I took the time to give it a look.
Strange entities are
causing breakouts of mass suicide around the world, and these
creatures or beings only seem to trigger this impulse when looked
upon by humans. Bird Box follows Malorie and her two young
children as they try to get to sanctuary, while also filling in the
backstory of what happened by way of jumping forward and back in the
timeline. The “current” time-frame is their dangerous blindfolded
boat journey along a river. The older time-frame shows the day the
outbreak reached Malorie’s city, and the path her survival takes as
civilisation grinds to a halt around her. Both have their own
challenges.
Bird Box is
mostly a siege-type horror, the survivors having to barricade
themselves into their houses, blocking windows with newspaper and
keeping the doors locked The necessity of venturing out at
different times does add a bit of variety to things, even if it’s just
a case of exchanging one secure location for another. The “not
being able to look” aspect is done very well, the entities being
alluded to by shadow, movement and sound, as well as various
interactions in the environment, from technology to bird song. It’s
interesting to watch the various ways in which the characters try to
use what is at hand to work around this peril, and like any decent
tale, not everything works out in the way that they hope it might.
Bird Box seems
to be a film very much about connection, or the lack of it. In the
early flashback scenes, Malorie is painting a picture of lonely
people and talks about not having to leave the house. There is also
an eerie hospital corridor populated by people wholly engrossed in
their phones. Yet once the mass suiciding begins and people find
themselves thrust together, there is almost too much connection,
especially as it becomes apparent that you have to be wary of who you
open the door to. John Malkovich’s Douglas is a good example of
someone who straddles this line, but in many ways, trusting an honest
arsehole might just be better than putting your faith in a friendly
stranger. There is also the literal connection between the
blindfolded people holding hands and trying to get to where they want
to go, which happens on more than one occasion.
Bird Box is a
creepy, rather than scary film, one that taps into the fear of the
unknown and unseen, rather than falling into the common trap of
showing too much of the threat. The suicides are both varied and
realistic, but none felt overly gory or gratuitous, which is a nice
surprise. I’m certainly a fan of gore, but when it’s kept on the
down low, I can respect that too. The central “not being allowed to
look” idea certainly contributed an extra dimension to the tension
on screen, especially when people become separated, and the simple
act of others looking for them becomes an almost impossible task. There’s
that connection theme again.
I enjoyed Bird Box,
the two or so hour run time didn’t feel like a drag, and that’s a
rare thing for me when watching a film, so it must have had something
about it. If you have Netflix and this pops up on your suggestion
list, give it a watch.
P.S. I’d love to see
a cross-over film where the entities of Bird Box team up with
the creatures of A Quiet Place. They would each seem to cover
the other’s weaknesses and between them, might actually achieve wiping out humanity, rather than falling prey to stubborn upstarts
who don't know when they are licked. A Quiet Box. I
like the sound of that.