The Demise of Dead Space 2's Franco Delille: How Visceral Killed a Man in One Minute
Joystiq interviews Visceral Games and finds out how one gruesome minute of Dead Space 2 was made.
In the future, our starship captains won't be as blindly heroic as their television counterparts. Their years of virtual training -- inside holo-capsule games like Dead Space 13: Amputheater -- will impart every single reason to avoid stranded ships and suspect space colonies. Even here, in 2011, Dead Space 2 provides an uncomfortable glimpse at the scary doors, inadequate fluorescent lighting and snarling horrors that await us off-planet. And that's before you die and come back to vicious near-life as a necrotized bag of flesh, running around wildly with scissors for hands.
The inhospitable, rickety world of Dead Space 2 and the disgusting creatures that populate it (and the necromorphs) don't seem worthy of care and devotion, yet it's all you see in every fuggy, expertly lit scene. There's no better way to see the detail-driven efforts of developer Visceral Games than by narrowing your focus to just one minute of the game, in which you're forced to watch a man shed every semblance of humanity and transform into a grotesque mess of flesh.
It's probably not as painful as it looks, I found out, because the poor guy doesn't have a brain.
In the future, our starship captains won't be as blindly heroic as their television counterparts. Their years of virtual training -- inside holo-capsule games like Dead Space 13: Amputheater -- will impart every single reason to avoid stranded ships and suspect space colonies. Even here, in 2011, Dead Space 2 provides an uncomfortable glimpse at the scary doors, inadequate fluorescent lighting and snarling horrors that await us off-planet. And that's before you die and come back to vicious near-life as a necrotized bag of flesh, running around wildly with scissors for hands.
The inhospitable, rickety world of Dead Space 2 and the disgusting creatures that populate it (and the necromorphs) don't seem worthy of care and devotion, yet it's all you see in every fuggy, expertly lit scene. There's no better way to see the detail-driven efforts of developer Visceral Games than by narrowing your focus to just one minute of the game, in which you're forced to watch a man shed every semblance of humanity and transform into a grotesque mess of flesh.
It's probably not as painful as it looks, I found out, because the poor guy doesn't have a brain.
