Last Christmas, I received my first camera as a present. I snapped plenty of pictures that day, and in the weeks since this photography habit has developed into a hobby. So when I was offered a chance to preview the remake of cult classic Fatal Frame 2: Crimson Butterfly, I leapt at the opportunity. It seemed like fate, a way to flex my fledging photographer physically and digitally. Albeit against loads of Japanese ghosts.
Except now I’m scared to pick up my own camera, worried that phantoms lurk in the corners of my vision, just out of sight. That’s what Fatal Frame 2 has done to me after playing through its first few chapters. But the fear of what hides in the film is tempered by the desire to catch just one glimpse of the otherworldly. Raising the Camera Obscura, and my own camera in reality, now promises a glimpse of the other side.
Exposure Therapy
Even as a first-time player, I’d heard of the iconic object that defines the series. Rather than relying on conventional weapons or being completely defenseless, Fatal Frame has cursed you with the Camera Obscura, a device capable of seeing and, at least temporarily, banishing spirits that refuse to pass onto the afterlife.
While I don’t have the previous games to compare this remake against, I can say that the Camera Obscura here feels mechanically complex enough to never be monotonous, but never too overwhelming that difficulty overrides the sense of constant terror. And the terror really is constant. Every shot you take is saved temporarily, and looking back through your film roll of wraiths you overcame with more clarity can be just as unsettling as when they’re vague shapes shambling towards you.
When spirits enter the scene, you hear them before you see them, garbled static ringing in your ears as they approach. You can see them even without the Camera Obscura raised too, but you can’t do anything against them except run.
At first, the camera only comes with infinite 07 film and the Standard Filter, though you’ll earn plenty more options throughout the campaign. Defeating them requires depleting their HP, though opportune timing rewards you with a ‘Fatal Frame’, where the camera rapidly charges and allows you to unleash a flurry of photos for massive damage.
After the initial fear of the unknown passes, it can sometimes feel like certain battles go on for much too long. So long in fact that I found myself checking over tutorial videos to make sure I was playing the game right. But no, those early encounters just take a lot of time and patience.This issue fades entirely once you obtain more filters and film types. There’s a careful balance here in alternating between filters and film to match the scenario, and when combined with trying to focus on an approaching ghost you can’t help but feel the tension.
Spirits won’t just stand there and take it, though. You have both a Willpower and Health bar. Once Willpower is depleted, spirits will start attacking your Health directly. However, if they look directly into the camera, they can drain your Willpower entirely and you’ll have no choice but to spontaneously snap pictures in the vain hope of restoring it. This unpredictability is often complemented by enemies suddenly becoming aggravated to restore their own HP and earn an increased damage output to boot. Moments like this ensure combat seldom becomes mundane.
Since Camera Obscura can be upgraded, I feared this would be a case of just upgrading damage and special effect durations instead of something that involved developing my own paranormal skills, but was quickly proven otherwise. Adjusting the zoom levels and the ability to manually focus gives you even more tools to banish spirits, but also requires you to manage more functions while under pressure. The upgrade choices you make feel equally tactical as raw improvements.
The Things That Go Bump In The Night
Forgiving the upcoming (but structurally necessary) pun, the framing of Fatal Frame has always been visual, with the Camera Obscura quite literally influencing how you see the world. But in praising that, I don’t want to ignore just how stellar the sound design is. It’s a common thing, to praise survival horror games for their audio, but Fatal Frame 2 stays with you.
The very first building you enter, Osaka House, creaks with every step, the speed of your own movement intensifying every facet of the experience. Rain clatters off windows, while the moans of spirits increasingly surround you just as the Camera Obscura is raised. Even in a tiny space like this, stepping through the front door feels like entering a whole new world.
This quality extends to every part of the game I’ve seen thus far.The whizzing of film as you snap a picture, the click of the filter as you rotate to another, the screech of the flash as it freezes the image of a glowing phantom in the viewfinder. It’s hard to properly convey just how much of the game can be experienced just by listening. The sound of nearby footsteps that aren’t your own, a flash of lightning accompanied by thunder to draw your eyes towards a certain scene, or the distant wailing of a spirit.
Such praise extends to the voice acting. I played the game in Japanese, with an English dub also available, though the latter felt more natural considering the setting and subject matter. Sibling heroines Mio and Mayu make up the bulk of the game’s performances. Their voices sound like they’re physically there, like every word needs to be spoken carefully lest it echo through the halls. A whisper in your ear makes you want to look over your own shoulder, or the fretful whispers from Mayu making you grip her hand even tighter so she doesn’t get caught by prowling wraiths. It is absolutely imperative you play the game with headphones.
Superstitious Cycles
What made my few hours with Fatal Frame stand out so much was its unflinching resolve to truly show the horrors that make such a scenario possible. The game delves into more occult horror with gods and spirits, and the belief that they can be caught on film, but equally portrays how this myth was born from local superstition.
Locals sacrificed to appease vengeful demons. Suicide to escape rituals and runaway children dead in the forests are common sights. The story wants you to feel that this isn’t just some vague horror conjured up for cheap frights, nor are these tragedies gratuitous simply to unsettle you.
I was able to play up to the end of Chapter Four, where gear I had acquired for the Camera Obscura promised me more freedom than the curated sections I had experienced so far. There are brief moments of exploration in earlier sections of the town, though without the means to do much, I tended to gravitate towards the main path, especially for fear of being caught off-guard by ghosts.
I’m sure for those who have played the original game, it’s more the excitement of returning to this uncomfortable setting with fresh eyes, seen from a whole new perspective, seeing those restless spirits haunt you with both increased clarity and less focus. But for me, I’m invested in the relationship between Mio and Mayu, how they link to the village, and how everything will (potentially) end. The game has multiple endings, but just how many and how they work, I’m excited to see. Maybe I’ll even overcome the fear of my real-life camera by the time I roll credits.
