Much like the Nomad Soul: Omikron, Fear Effect is one of those games I love to criticize. I remember how excited I was the first time I read about it, shortly after the E3 ’99. And I can imagine that the Eidos execs who read the game description were quite thrilled as well. Who wouldn’t be?
On paper, this was a gem of a game. The action/horror genre was far from saturated (the first Silent Hill was just released) and Fear Effect’s approach was fresh and relevant. In Resident Evil and in Silent Hill, the character was the prey of a horde of creatures against which they were close to powerless. Much of Resident Evil’s atmosphere rested on the fact that the hero had very limited ammo and firepower and, for a change, it was usually a good idea to avoid fighting, while in Silent Hill, the horror was much more of a psychological nature. But Fear Effect was an action game where the trigger-happy player could blast away enemies at will. While the heroes of Resident Evil and Silent Hill were weak and vulnerable, the characters of Fear Effect were invincible - as long as they were brave. If the player did well in the game (kill enemies, solve puzzle, find items) their confidence will increase. Then, their attacks will be more accurate, while enemies will miss. Else, their fear will take over. When scared, their attacks would tend to miss often, while the enemies will be more and more powerful. If their fear reached a certain level, any attack would kill them. That system was a great idea, plus it was one that could be explained on paper in a convincing way.
Add to the mix a strong theme, underused in our industry despite its popularity in movies and its obvious appeal to gamers: Hong Kong triads, with both a mystical and a science-fiction spin. Finally, the icing on the cake was a breakthrough streaming technology that allowed animated background textures, a unique feat in Playstation history. Some people may as well remember Fear Effect as the very first game to have used cel shading, quite some time before Jet Set Radio made that technique popular.
At this time, Eidos was very attached to heroes, as they were looking for alternatives to Lara Croft. They may have found a candidate in Hana, a sexy woman with a troubled, mysterious past, now a cold-blooded assassin, who puts her life on the line to save an abducted little girl.
So what happened?
Many parts of the game were built in reaction to the dominant player, Resident Evil. For instance, while accessing Resident Evil’s inventory screen paused the game, in Fear Effect, this was done in real time, surimposing the items/weapons window on top of the screen. Was it more realistic? Maybe, but in terms of playability, this wasn’t a wise option. Ironically, switching weapons in the midst of combat was much more often necessary in Fear Effect than in Resident Evil.
The fear principle, on which rested the game, was unfortunately flawed. The game would penalize a player that doesn’t do well. But whose fault is it? when a player doesn’t control the camera angles, when they have no way of anticipating the opposition they will face and the power-ups that may become available? for this reason, even a concentrated, active player may find themselves "scared" . Now when this happened, only luck can help you going back to normal. In theory, killing enemies lowers your fear status. But if you are scared, your attacks will miss often while enemies can kill you with one bullet. Your only chance is to pick up an item or solve a puzzle before you face another enemy, and this has nothing to do with skill. By rewarding the lucky player and putting the unlucky one in nearly impossible (or, let’s say it, objectively unwinnable) situations, this game brought unfairness to new levels. Because, if you die, the only option is to load a saved game (or restart the game from the start), you can easily find yourself checkmated, still alive, but certain to lose in a few moves. Modern memory cards give players many slots to save their games, so it could have been possible to backtrack. But back then, the sensible option would have been to allow the player to reset their game from "safe", tested checkpoints where they can be sure that they have everything on hand to reach the next checkpoint. While we’re on the unfairness topic, which is what killed the game really, the game doesn’t hesitate to kill you outright at times without letting you know why.
Looking at it from my framework, it had consistency, fiction, tension, it was even strong in those three areas. It doesn’t have much in terms of replay options (I may be tempted to add: fortunately!) so in terms of multi-level playing, it was rather limited. Where it clearly tanks is fairness.
Some of the game’s imbalance can be attributed by lack of time or testing, but it could have been avoided by better design upfront. Despite its shortcomings, the game was quite successful, enough to deserve its sequel.
Fear Effect 2: Retro Helix, unfortunately, was much worse than its predecessor. Not only did it not solve its problems, but it lost its unique appeal. The original game was certainly sulphurous (I mean, we’re talking brothels in Hong-Kong and battles with the King of Chinese Hell) but in an authentic kind of way. It seems to me that for the sequel, someone in marketing asked for "more". The results just sound phoney and fabricated, especially the love affair between the two heroines. The universe of Fear Effect, which was its forte, was a delicate construction. Trying to force things in that direction (or in any other) greatly undermine its consistency. The demise of this franchise seems to be a direct result.
In 2004, rights for a Fear Effect movie, which could be released in 2008, were purchased, although the future of such a movie seems now quite uncertain. I don’t see the logic of such an operation, as the movie industry has not waited for Fear Effect to write stories in similar universes. In 2008, what value would a 7-year old license represent? close to nothing. The reverse, however, may be tempting: buying the rights of a well-written, well-directed Hong-Kong movie to make games in that intriguing universe.
