Echo Night: Beyond
Looking for something to seriously scare the crap out of you? Look no further.
Published: August 23, 2004
When it comes to horror, things seem to have fallen into two major categories: the in-your-face, hyper-gore blood fests and the leave-the-scary-bits-up-to-your-imagination, which for most is far, far scarier. This holds true for stuff like movies (we submit Dawn of the Dead and The Village as more recent examples of both), but it's just as common in games too.
Echo Night: Beyond falls squarely into the latter category where the more basic, primal fear we as humans have, the fear of the unknown, of what could be out there. It's not so much the random make-you-jump moments (though there are certainly those), it's the stuff that's just beyond your view, that's obscured by inky blackness or enveloped in fog. This is where ENB gets its rocks off, and it does so with aplomb.
You play a nameless, faceless man, circa 2044, en route to his wedding day on the moon with his fiancé, Claudia. Unfortunately, it seems fate had something else in mind for the matrimonial duo, and when mysterious interference causes the shuttle to crash into Earth's cold, dead, rocky satellite, things get far, far worse. For starters, when you finally come to, you're the only person on the wrecked shuttlecraft; no passangers and -- more importantly -- no fiancé.
And here's where the creepy factor cranks up about a million notches. For all you know, you're the sole living person around. Problem is, while you seem to be the only person alive, you're most certainly not alone. The souls of the departed now roam the space station, bound there seemingly for eternity, and a spooky fog that mysteriously began filling the station has turned any of the souls who stumble into it into vengeful, angry specters.
Oh, and the kicker? You're just a run-of-the-mill dude. No ex-marine, no gung-ho action hero, just a normal guy with a normal flashlight and a very normal sense of fear. Most of the station seems utterly deserted, devoid of power and populated rather heavily by spirits that you can't see until you're literally right on top of them. It's this gripping sense of fear that keeps you on edge -- especially when you go through a door only to see a thick blanket of fog on the floors of the antiseptic station.
The key to progressing through the game, is, of course, to open up dialogues with the non-pissed off ghosts, finding out why they're still bound to the station and then finding that thing and giving it to them, be it resolution with a loved one, an object they desire, or what have you. It's also ENB's gameplay focus, and as creepy as it is to slooooowly walk the halls of the deserted station, it's also rather tedious to go from room to room, backtracking over and over again to return items and solve mysteries to free the spirits.
It should be said that you are more or less without any real defense from the ghosts other than your flighty feet most of the time, and you move incredibly slowly (even when running). Your heart rate is your health, and any time your near a ghost, good or bad, the controller will vibrate and your pulse will quicken. If your heartbeat cranks up to 300 bpm, you're dead meat. You literally get scared to death. Add to this the cumbersome controls (a From Software hallmark) and things can sometimes feel like you're a detached puppeteer, fumbling with pulling the right strings.
Eventually, the controls, patterned off of the 6[/reviews]]Armored Core series' setup -- meaning no analog control and a wiggy system where L1 and R1 strafe left and right, and L2 and R2 look up and down -- begin to feel somewhat normal, but it's still easy to get freaked out and mix up the controls when you turn around only to see the slightly transparent visage of some screaming ghost bearing down on you.
And it's a shame, really, that klutzy controls and repetitive gameplay get in the way of exploring this station and slowly piecing together what exactly happened. Most of this comes from semi-cryptic bits uttered by the ghosts, but there are video logs or journals that tell the tale just as well -- and usually in a far creepier way.
As weird as it sounds, the game's sparse visuals add quite a bit to the whole experience. The moon and the station on it are largely devoid of detail. Coolly clean and lacking much in the way of intricacies, the station feels as lifeless as the bodies that now call it a permanent home, and something about the way the fog clings to the floors in various thicknesses, about the general lack of light all over the place that makes that one corner still feel scary even though you know nothing's there... it's all incredibly well done.
Well, save for the framerate, which rarely stays constant. Swinging the view from a wall to an open area will almost always cut the framerate from a smooth, almost 60 frames a second in some places down to the 20's or teens. I wish I could say it didn't detract from the game, but in all honesty, it really does. I'd gladly haven given up the smoother moments for something a little closer to a baseline 30 frames, but alas, the sometimes cavernous sections of the game tend to bog the engine down.
Luckily, the interface is notably clean, albeit sometimes painfully slow to navigate -- especially when using the motoring rooms that allow you to use the station's cameras to view wayward spirits. The menu system relies heavily on sharp angles and hues of blue, giving it that same simple, clean feeling the station has while still delivering a semblance of calm. The way most of the game is shown behind the helmet of your character (a la Metroid Prime) is thoroughly immersive, and just adds another layer to the experience.
The audio, fittingly, is rather barren, popping up only when it best heightens the tension or helps punctuate a particularly touching moment (and there is a lot of this; the balance between freeing trapped souls and running from the angered ones just works you into the game that much more). The music is usually light piano notes or a very soft ambient flow, with a more screeching, violent mess of noise when a ghost is at your throat.
The voiceover work is slightly less exemplary. Sure, there was an attempt to get plenty of accents and different personalities to come through in the characters, but the translation can seem a little weak at times, and the delivery isn't always as solid as one would hope from a game that otherwise perfectly immerses you in the world of a derelict space station. It's not a game breaker by any means, just a bit disappointing.
If it weren't for the fact that about 20 minutes into the game, you have a pretty good idea of what to expect from the rest of it, and the almost Resident Evil-like fascination with backtracking (though it's nowhere near the cross-level marathons you'll get in those games) and get-this-item-to-that-guy-to-get-his-item-to-open-a-door-to-get-the-next-item chain, this would be a serious sleeper hit. It's by no means a slouch, but the repetition can get old, and even with a ghost on your tail, the quest to find your missing fiancé starts to feel a bit contrived.
This is sure-fire rental, and if you're out for a good scare every now and then, even repeat encounters with ghosts are still good for a decent heart jump-start. Anyone craving a good, serious scare and the kind of foreboding that rarely comes from games like this has only to snag a copy of this game. And who doesn't like a little freakyness now and then?
Echo Night: Beyond falls squarely into the latter category where the more basic, primal fear we as humans have, the fear of the unknown, of what could be out there. It's not so much the random make-you-jump moments (though there are certainly those), it's the stuff that's just beyond your view, that's obscured by inky blackness or enveloped in fog. This is where ENB gets its rocks off, and it does so with aplomb.
You play a nameless, faceless man, circa 2044, en route to his wedding day on the moon with his fiancé, Claudia. Unfortunately, it seems fate had something else in mind for the matrimonial duo, and when mysterious interference causes the shuttle to crash into Earth's cold, dead, rocky satellite, things get far, far worse. For starters, when you finally come to, you're the only person on the wrecked shuttlecraft; no passangers and -- more importantly -- no fiancé.
And here's where the creepy factor cranks up about a million notches. For all you know, you're the sole living person around. Problem is, while you seem to be the only person alive, you're most certainly not alone. The souls of the departed now roam the space station, bound there seemingly for eternity, and a spooky fog that mysteriously began filling the station has turned any of the souls who stumble into it into vengeful, angry specters.
Oh, and the kicker? You're just a run-of-the-mill dude. No ex-marine, no gung-ho action hero, just a normal guy with a normal flashlight and a very normal sense of fear. Most of the station seems utterly deserted, devoid of power and populated rather heavily by spirits that you can't see until you're literally right on top of them. It's this gripping sense of fear that keeps you on edge -- especially when you go through a door only to see a thick blanket of fog on the floors of the antiseptic station.
The key to progressing through the game, is, of course, to open up dialogues with the non-pissed off ghosts, finding out why they're still bound to the station and then finding that thing and giving it to them, be it resolution with a loved one, an object they desire, or what have you. It's also ENB's gameplay focus, and as creepy as it is to slooooowly walk the halls of the deserted station, it's also rather tedious to go from room to room, backtracking over and over again to return items and solve mysteries to free the spirits.
It should be said that you are more or less without any real defense from the ghosts other than your flighty feet most of the time, and you move incredibly slowly (even when running). Your heart rate is your health, and any time your near a ghost, good or bad, the controller will vibrate and your pulse will quicken. If your heartbeat cranks up to 300 bpm, you're dead meat. You literally get scared to death. Add to this the cumbersome controls (a From Software hallmark) and things can sometimes feel like you're a detached puppeteer, fumbling with pulling the right strings.
Eventually, the controls, patterned off of the 6[/reviews]]Armored Core series' setup -- meaning no analog control and a wiggy system where L1 and R1 strafe left and right, and L2 and R2 look up and down -- begin to feel somewhat normal, but it's still easy to get freaked out and mix up the controls when you turn around only to see the slightly transparent visage of some screaming ghost bearing down on you.
And it's a shame, really, that klutzy controls and repetitive gameplay get in the way of exploring this station and slowly piecing together what exactly happened. Most of this comes from semi-cryptic bits uttered by the ghosts, but there are video logs or journals that tell the tale just as well -- and usually in a far creepier way.
As weird as it sounds, the game's sparse visuals add quite a bit to the whole experience. The moon and the station on it are largely devoid of detail. Coolly clean and lacking much in the way of intricacies, the station feels as lifeless as the bodies that now call it a permanent home, and something about the way the fog clings to the floors in various thicknesses, about the general lack of light all over the place that makes that one corner still feel scary even though you know nothing's there... it's all incredibly well done.
Well, save for the framerate, which rarely stays constant. Swinging the view from a wall to an open area will almost always cut the framerate from a smooth, almost 60 frames a second in some places down to the 20's or teens. I wish I could say it didn't detract from the game, but in all honesty, it really does. I'd gladly haven given up the smoother moments for something a little closer to a baseline 30 frames, but alas, the sometimes cavernous sections of the game tend to bog the engine down.
Luckily, the interface is notably clean, albeit sometimes painfully slow to navigate -- especially when using the motoring rooms that allow you to use the station's cameras to view wayward spirits. The menu system relies heavily on sharp angles and hues of blue, giving it that same simple, clean feeling the station has while still delivering a semblance of calm. The way most of the game is shown behind the helmet of your character (a la Metroid Prime) is thoroughly immersive, and just adds another layer to the experience.
The audio, fittingly, is rather barren, popping up only when it best heightens the tension or helps punctuate a particularly touching moment (and there is a lot of this; the balance between freeing trapped souls and running from the angered ones just works you into the game that much more). The music is usually light piano notes or a very soft ambient flow, with a more screeching, violent mess of noise when a ghost is at your throat.
The voiceover work is slightly less exemplary. Sure, there was an attempt to get plenty of accents and different personalities to come through in the characters, but the translation can seem a little weak at times, and the delivery isn't always as solid as one would hope from a game that otherwise perfectly immerses you in the world of a derelict space station. It's not a game breaker by any means, just a bit disappointing.
If it weren't for the fact that about 20 minutes into the game, you have a pretty good idea of what to expect from the rest of it, and the almost Resident Evil-like fascination with backtracking (though it's nowhere near the cross-level marathons you'll get in those games) and get-this-item-to-that-guy-to-get-his-item-to-open-a-door-to-get-the-next-item chain, this would be a serious sleeper hit. It's by no means a slouch, but the repetition can get old, and even with a ghost on your tail, the quest to find your missing fiancé starts to feel a bit contrived.
This is sure-fire rental, and if you're out for a good scare every now and then, even repeat encounters with ghosts are still good for a decent heart jump-start. Anyone craving a good, serious scare and the kind of foreboding that rarely comes from games like this has only to snag a copy of this game. And who doesn't like a little freakyness now and then?
