I have no respect for jump scares. It takes a lot of skill to craft a truly terrifying scene, and those who resort to jump scares simply don't have the skills. True masters of horror like Hitchcock and Kubrick knew how to build tension and disturb audiences without resorting to cheap tricks meant only to shock and surprise, but never instill true fear. Jump scares are a misnomer because they're not actually scary. Home invasions are scary. A severed hand slowly inching its way across your bed while you sleep is scary. Blaring a loud sound and showing a close up of a weird face is just a way to trigger an automatic reflex in your nervous system. Any feelings of fear you might have experienced from a jump scare don’t last any longer than the scare itself did. There are no shortcuts in storytelling, especially when it comes to horror.
All my homies hate jump scares, so you can trust me when I tell you that Alan Wake 2's jump scares are the real deal. I'm nearly finished with my first playthrough, and I can't recall another time I've been this affected by, or had this much fun with, jump scares. It succeeds where so many others have failed because it takes the time to implement narrative and thematic justifications into its sudden frights, it never relies on them completely to create tension, and even though it uses them frequently and they should be easy to see coming, it always finds new ways to terrorize you with spooky face and loud sound. Most of all, Alan Wake 2's jump scares work because they're so god damn mean.
Alan Wake 2's Musical Number Is My Favourite Gaming Moment Of The Year
Remedy had no right to go th🌜is h🎃ard. But it did, and I applaud them.
Mechanically, there's no difference between Alan Wake 2's jump scares and that classic ‘relaxing car drive’ YouTube video from 20 years ago. As you work your way through the forest surrounding Cauldron Lake as Saga or the urban noir dreamscape Alan is trapped in, your screen will frequently be assaulted by a close up of a face - usually the Taken you're pursuing or a twisted image of Alan himself - accompanied by an uncomfortable static sound that makes you tense up and jolt back from your TV. The more focused you are and the more tense the scenario is, the more likely it is that the game is going to throw a jump scare or three at you. During the most difficult sequences where you're fighting a boss or facing a gauntlet of violent shadows, when things are already terrifying enough, Alan Wake 2 hits you with a barrage of these screen-altering jump scares back to back.
It's bad enough that you're getting hit with spooky screaming faces while you're running for your life from an axe-wielding naked man in the woods at night, but Alan Wake 2 also hits you with the shockers when you least expect them. There's one fight where every shotgun blast I landed on a Taken seemed to trigger a jump scare, counteracting the serotonin release I get from landing a full-pellet blast of buck shot into a monster by reflecting that pain back into my nerves. There's one diegetic jump scare in which Alan is in an elevator. When the doors open, you're hit with a bright camera flash that's surprising and disorienting. As soon as that happens, they hit you with another, screen-stealing jump scare of Alan's laughing face. You'd think the double attack would be overkill, but you build a relationship with the jump scare throughout the game until it starts to feel like a passenger on your journey. It's almost as though your jump scare is yelling back at this other, unfamiliar jump scare for trying to blow up its spot.
Alan Wake's jump scare is a character. It represents the Dark Presence, the evil force that's editing Alan's story and fighting him for control of the narrative. It's always there, watching you and making changes, and whenever it senses you're getting an edge, it breaks the fourth wall to enter the story and try to terrify you itself. You can see how the jump scare presents itself differently in subtle ways to Saga and Alan too. Saga’s visions are more detached from her, related only to the particular situation she finds herself in, while Alan’s seem to be exacerbated by his stress and confusion. They take more of a personal toll on him when they happen because he and the Dark Presence are so deeply connected.
My favorite jump scare of all happened as I ran into a safe house to save my game and soak up some much-needed recovery in the light. After a particularly unfortunate bout with a wolf, I dipped into a cabin to take a breath, heal, and collect myself. The second I hit the save button though, I got my eyes and ears blasted by a screaming cultist. The save room is a sacred place in a survival-horror game. It’s the one place that can provide a moment o⛄f respite from the endless barrage of terrors waiting outside. This moment violated that unspoken rule so that I’d know that 🦩nowhere is safe, and to remind me that I have no control in this place. It’s a vicious jump scare, one of the most disrespectful I’ve ever experienced, and it’s perfect.
