THIRTEEN FOR HALLOWEEN 2021: GONE HOME [FEATURE]

3/11/2021

A horror game that isn't a horror game; a masquerade that echoes its own subject's efforts to closet and obfuscate themselves for the sake of societal and familial approval, and one that has helped more than one LGBTQ person out there find themselves.

Thirteen For Halloween 2021: Gone Home by George Daniel Lea

Welcome, my loves, to another Halloween at the Ginger Nuts of Horror and another in our -nearly- annual series of seasonal horror articles!

With our positioning as LGBTQ people here in the UK becoming increasingly fraught of late, with various attempts to erode our status, divide us, make us enemies of one another (looking squarely at the right-wing hate organisation, the LGBA, here. Looking and glaring and demanding that they fuck off from my garden, quite frankly), it's more important than ever that our concerns and conditions are examined via the media we consume. Horror might not be the most immediately obvious genre or vehicle in that regard, yet there's no denying that LGBTQ ddemographics in horror fandom are huge and significant. Whilst traditionally a far more exclusive and conservative genre, it has always been one in which LGBTQ people -and those cast outside the fishbowl of proscribed society- have always found a degree of identification. Even in the midst of its own conservatism, it often metaphorically or symbolically identifies and explores concerns that are particularly significant to us, especially given the tendency for us to be “monstered” by news media, religious organisations and culturally conservative bodies. That there are now significant sub-genres and voices within horror (not to mention fantasy and science fiction) who themselves identify as LGBTQ and who bring those concerns to the forefront in their writings is evidence of a burgeoning -and hopefully irreversible- paradigm shift away from the exclusions of tradition and into a more expansive, fruitful condition.

Before we progress with the introductory subject, please be aware that these are all matters of personal taste and have been selected based on my own knowledge and experience of what is out there. If there is a piece of pertinent media you'd like me to discuss further or deeper at a later date, do not hesitate to get in touch and flag it up.

So, to kick things off, we have a callback to the independent video game scene of 2013; a relatively modest title that -initially- dropped without enormous fanfare or significant discussion onto Steam, but which -largely thanks to the “let's player” community on YouTube- snowballed out of all containment in the weeks and months that followed:

The strangely quiet, subtle and evocative work that is Gone Home.

It's strange to consider that, for an era that feels so recent, our heels have barely cooled from it, the video game environment and culture of 2013 was a very different place to what it is now: independent video gaming was beginning to swell, thanks to platforms such as Steam and others, allowing for smaller studios and independent creators to promulgate their work. This, in turn, facilitated a significant shift in the nature of video games -even debates on what constitutes a video “game”- and the voices that the medium traditionally allowed for. Suddenly, we had the likes of Gone Home, a game that actively tricks its audience into believing it's a supernatural horror title by borrowing tricks and techniques from the last twenty years of titles, but that then gradually sloughs off those assumptions, inverting them in some instances, to become a far more domestic, hopeful and positive cultural commentary.

To put it in context: LGBTQ representation in video games at that point was still phenomenally rare, barring one or two niche instances that were often played for laughs or fetishised to the Nth degree. Here, arguably for the first time ever in the medium, we have a story that explores the phenomena of “coming out,” set in the USA of the mid 1990s, in which doing so was far more fraught and ambiguous.

Furthermore, it dares to do so with reference to a teenage girl, adding another layer to its representation by incorporating a focal subject that is still arguably underrepresented in media in general.

In terms of presentation and format, the game is minimalist from the outset: providing very little in the way of instruction or backstory, it hurls the player behind the eyes of a young woman (21 year old Katie Greenbriar) who returns to her family home after some time away overseas. The home itself is classically gothic, deliberately evoking cinematic and literary associations that range from The Amityville Horror to The Shining. Gameplay consists of little more than guiding Katie around a home that seems strangely empty, almost abandoned, and interacting with certain items that evoke sentimental or distressing associations. In this, the game deliberately conjures the ethos of horror video games such as Amnesia: The Dark Descent, Silent Hill and numerous others. In terms of tone and atmosphere, it leads the player to believe that there is some impending doom afoot, a revelation concerning Katie and/or her family that will result in a descent into -seemingly supernatural- horror.

The sheer emptiness of the game at this point compounds that assumption to the Nth degree; the house is eerily quiet, yet full of echoes and associations. As Katie wanders, she finds clues as to what has happened during her absence, some of which are personal to her -items that conjure personal associations or trigger specific memories-, others of which relate to her family (we learn, for example, that in classic Stephen King fashion, her Father is an aspiring writer, whilst her Mother is a wildlife conservationist).

Of key interest in this regard is her 17 year old sister, Samantha, whose status and position within the household has been fraught since their impromptu move to the area. Struggling at school and socially, expressing behaviours that their parents consider problematic, the story takes a decided lurch when it becomes apparent that this is not a tale of revenants from the past or ghosts or hereditary curses or anything of the sort:

Whilst there are instances and moments that might initially appear to be “ghostly” or supernatural in nature, the game undercuts them beautifully, changing timbre, tone and even language as both Katie and the player simultaneously realise what has been happening in her absence:

Her sister, Samantha, it transpires, has been slowly realising her own homosexuality, thanks to her association with an older girl named Yolande. Through her diaries and journals, it becomes apparent that she is experiencing a self-realisation that is as terrifying as it is exultant, finding the sense of anchorage and identity that has been denied her for so long, and clawing her way out of the tension and strife that has bedevilled her recent life.

Amidst all of this, the game implies suggestions of extraneous tensions: set in 1995, it explores attitudes and positions that aren't as enlightened or LGBTQ-friendly as they are in the post-2000s. Even the ostensibly cosmopolitan and sophisticated parents -each imaginative, creative and intelligent people in their own rights- respond with parental caution and a degree of negativity to their daughter's burgeoning identity and the relationship she is cultivating. Katie, experiencing all of this second-hand and in the aftermath of whatever confrontation resulted, becomes increasingly desperate as she seeks out clues as to what could've happened, where her family is now. Here, the game plays an extremely clever trick by subtly transposing the extraneous fear of something horrific or supernatural into concern for Samantha, the family and Katie herself. It is a brilliant example of sleight of hand; everything about the game up to this point -the grammar, the framing, the tone- borrows heavily from indie-horror games of yore, leading the player to make certain assumptions about what it is and how it will ultimately transpire.

Assumptions that the game expertly undercuts and shreds to confetti in its closing chapters.

Whilst it has become semi-legendary in the annals of video game history, at the time, people were genuinely shocked and surprised by its content and what it turned out to be. Certain “let's player's” videos on the game are extremely emotional and appreciative, as the game cleverly evokes certain expectations and feeds into them throughout only to invert them at the point of realisation. The resultant denial of expectation results in an experience not unlike the uncanny; a sense as of being delirious deceived, tricked by one's own experience and assumptions. Furthermore, the connections drawn between the player, Katie and characters we don't even meet or see firsthand, are so sincere, so intimate, we can't help but become emotionally invested in the situation. As a result, we share Katie's pain at the well-meaning misunderstandings of their parents, we share Samantha's distress and concern as they attempt to stifle what is blossoming and brilliant in her soul. And, most importantly, we share in both sister's exultation when it all ultimately comes right.

The game paints an uncannily accurate portrait of “coming out” as a young lesbian in the mid 1990s in rural USA, along with all of the confusions and concerns that are part and parcel. Ultimately, whilst it has certain grim and unnerving implications -there is a faint suggestion that the Father figure may have been abused at some point in his life, which informs his own issues with his daughter's relationship-, it is ultimately a celebratory work that places all emphasis on the fulfilment and happiness of the daughters in their various states and pursuits. Samantha in particular is exulted in her ultimate decision to leave the family home and pursue a relationship with Yolande, despite her parent's difficulties, and Katie -being more worldly wise but also the player proxy- expresses nothing but happiness and support for her sibling, and resolves to help her parents cope with the situation and heal their own psychological scars when they return home.

A horror game that isn't a horror game; a masquerade that echoes its own subject's efforts to closet and obfuscate themselves for the sake of societal and familial approval, and one that has helped more than one LGBTQ person out there find themselves.