Zombies, the undead, former-humans, infected, shamblers, ghouls, walkers… no matter what you call them, at this point gamers are pretty well-versed when it comes to facing off against cannibalistic semi-humans. Many of us, it would seem, have burnt out on the idea of the undead horde, yet developers continue to pump out zombie games in ridiculous numbers, and consumers continue to buy them with an equal amount of fervor. So, in spite of the growing belief that the genre has been done to death, why is it that so many developers still choose to cast the undead in the role of the antagonist? And why do these titles continue to be so popular with consumers? Let’s take a look at what makes the walking dead so grotesquely appealing.
Who will hunt the hunters?
The predator/prey dichotomy is a fundamentally primal relationship. From a physiological perspective, being hunted triggers the “fight-or-flight” reaction, which increases blood flow and pumps adrenaline through one’s veins. Even simple childhood games like tag or hide-and-seek exemplify this one simple fact – being chased is exciting. Fortunately for humans we don’t have any natural predators in the world today, so being able to feel excitement has become a recreational pursuit rather than necessary tool for survival. Being at the top of the food chain certainly has its advantages (like not being eaten), but it also presents a problem for game designers aiming to make players feel the tension and exhilaration associated with being preyed upon, because there really aren’t that many options from which to choose when it comes to filling the role of “hunter.” If you think about it, the choices are essentially limited to: other humans, wild animals, and fantastical creatures. While being killed by another person or mauled by a mountain lion or blown apart by a Predator’s shoulder-mounted plasma rifle are all terrifying propositions, zombie attacks come with the additional threat of completely losing control of one’s sense of self. It’s one thing to die brutally, but it’s quite another to die a gruesome death, knowing that after it’s over you’ll be doomed to an eternity of aimless wandering, feeling nothing but the urge to feast upon the succulent flesh of your nearest still-breathing neighbor.
Furthermore, literature teachers the world over would tell us that conflict comes in three flavors: man against man (Battlefield), man against nature (Cabela’s Dangerous Hunts), and man against self (Silent Hill). Most games are perfectly content to rely on one or two of these archetypes, but zombie games give developers the rare opportunity to explore all three. Apocalyptic environments are rife with potential for man-versus-man conflict, as the perpetual search for the limited resources necessary to survive almost demands it, and a zombie outbreak is a pretty viable excuse for an end-of-civilization scenario. Zombies themselves represent a fierce “natural” enemy to overcome, and the sheer number of variables — zombies can be fast or slow, reanimated corpses or infected humans, humanoid or severely mutated and deformed, and on and on — gives developers a lot of options with which to work. Finally, the undead-apocalypse is a perfect setting for internal man-against-self struggles as well, as one can reflect on themes like morality, doing what is necessary to survive, the nature of fear, and, perhaps most importantly, what it means to be human. If you need an example, look no further than The Last of Us, which deftly handles all three types of conflict.
Zombies are people too… except, also not.
Not too long ago, I wrote an article about a game’s mechanics getting in the way of the story the game is trying to tell. A title like Uncharted, for instance, can seem at odds with itself when a protagonist portrayed as a “hero” kills hundreds upon hundreds of men to reach his goal. Even though you might do just as much killing in The Last of Us, there is little disconnect between the gameplay and the narrative, and I feel that the inclusion of zombies goes a long way toward achieving that end.
One of the reasons I believe zombies are so popular is that you can commit any act of violence against them without experiencing guilt or remorse. People feel things like pain and fright, and empathy causes us to feel those things vicariously when we witness others being hurt. But zombies have no feelings or thoughts, nor do they experience pain. Zombies are, by definition, humans who have been stripped of their humanity. Zombies, therefore, provide us a guilt-free outlet to release the angst and anger we may occasionally feel towards others without having to feel bad about it, because they look like humans but they don’t emote like humans. Put simply: killing 100 people in a video game with a chainsaw might cause some players to experience cognitive dissonance, whereas killing 100 zombies with that very same chainsaw has no associated feelings of shame, guilt, or remorse.
Moving forward
Zombies are certainly not the only choice for antagonists in games, but they are perhaps one of the easiest platforms to work off of, which may be why developers are so quick to unleash the undead hordes. While I think gamers are likely to see more risks being taken and less-trodden ground being explored, such as with Big Robot’s upcoming title Sir You Are Being Hunted or with IonFX’s Miasmata, I also believe there will always be a strong appeal for all things zombified due to the intrinsic qualities that set zombies apart from other forms of nemeses. When you consider that zombies don’t induce empathy in the player, offer up a vast number of choices for narrative, are bullet sponges you are strongly encouraged to shoot in the head, are a major part of main-stream culture, and embody our deepest fears, it’s harder to imagine why some games don’t incorporate the walking dead rather than to wonder why so many do.
