When last we met (many, many moons ago), our talk about passive and active media led to quite a lot of attention. I got record-high viewership totals. My blog got bandied about on the interwebz like a rain-slicked football at a Pop Warner football game. For a split second, I even began to trend. It was heady to receive this attention, and it brought in a lot of work, hence my absence on ye ol’ blogosphere.

I did receive a few questions about it all, naturally. People were genuinely interested in talking about some of the more detailed aspects of my missive, which generally fell into the following categories.

• Can you talk about the franchises you worked on in the past? Alas no.
• Will you give me writing lessons? If you’re willing to pay.
• Are you trying to imitate Abe Lincoln? You tell me.

So I decided to give you guys a peek into what I mean about the usage of storytelling between platforms. Let’s look at this from a franchise perspective so that the themes are congruent, the characters are similar, and it’s reasonably well known enough for a broad audience to understand.

That takes us to the Alien franchise, which has gotten some exciting news in recent days. It’s been a film series, a line of toys, a comic book bonanza, the inspiration for dozens of video games, and a cross-platform narrative along many other platforms since the initial movie hit the big screen in 1979. There have been a lot of interpretations over the course of these thirty-six years that have expanded its story world and—not incidentally—made a ton of money. There have also been some missteps along the way, principally when the brand wandered off course. So what separates the two?

First, we must take a look at what the series is. The Alien franchise is about…

• Forces of Nature: Terrifying creatures that cannot be reasoned with
• Science-Fiction Horror: The dread of what is seemingly inevitable
• Deliberate Intent: A mixture of intense action and calculated pacing
• No Way Out: Enclosed spaces that forces conflict
• Are We the Monster: Themes that question capitalism and man’s essence
• Humankind and our Tools: Themes that question our reliance on technology
• Individual Triumph: Groupthink doesn’t work, as the individual must surmount errors made by committee in order to stay alive

Starlight Runner would wrap this up in a handy-dandy logline and universe overview that examines the franchise’s place in narrative history. Is Ripley an example of a Caregiver or of an Outlaw? What motifs have worked the best with the fanbase and can be used to unite them in future storylines without being derivative? How does the franchise solve the problem of the horror franchise (see my next blog entry)? Even in asking these questions, it is easy to see that there’s a lot of subtlety beneath the surface of a dystopic tale of survival. But how can these and other elements be wielded correctly?

This is where differentiation comes into play. Each platform, when used properly, can examine the underpinnings of each of the above tenets in ways that can only be explored via their mechanics or language. Creators and fans can examine these facets from a wider perspective by seeing how they function in an active or passive role.

Let’s take a recent success in the franchise to showcase this, one that mimics the horror of the original film without aping it.

Alien: Isolation was a 2014 critical darling, a fan favorite, and a solid seller for a number of reasons. It was also a return to the style of Alien after decades of content inspired by its sequel, Aliens. There’s certainly nothing wrong with the latter content (well, most of the time), but the thrill of action-horror and the difficulty of producing quality survival-horror left the foundations of the first film largely ignored by games for quite some time. Isolation went back to the well and succeeded because it understood the source material on an intrinsic level while also reveling in the experience that only a video game can produce. It succeeded at understanding how survival-horror works in film…

…and then avoiding it.

Well, not necessarily avoiding it, but not giving into the temptation of adaptation. What worked for Alien, or Aliens, or any of the other works in the film franchise does not necessarily work for the other segments. Just because there’s a xenomorph and a flamethrower doesn’t mean that the terror of this franchise comes through. There’s something beyond the narrative underpinnings that makes an Alien game an Alien game. That’s the difference between platforms, between active and passive media, between the message and the mechanism.

In horror films such as Alien, the scares come from the fact that you’re strapped in for the ride. Like a roller coaster, you feel out of control. You can’t escape. The characters are making choices. and there’s nothing you can do about it. You feel helpless to control the events of the narrative. You can only hang on. Yet at the end of the two-hour show, you’re out in world, breathing fresh air and exhilarated from an endorphin rush.

Horror games function differently. The gamer is not a bystander. He or she makes active choices in order to survive. Heal now with enemies around or chance it and try to make it to a safe house? Explore for more ammo or play it safe and keep moving? Sacrifice your momentum or sacrifice your morals? The more varied the gameplay, the better. There’s only so much hiding, creeping, and fleeing one can do, after all. Indeed, too much terror can force the player to disengage due to connection made via the controller. Yet the vicarious thrill of being forced into a situation means that every moment one spends in the game is a purposeful choice to take on this horror. Success means victory over the environment and over one’s own fears or frailties. No wonder it’s successful when done well.

Now then, a comparison between the film and the game…