Nostalgia is a general warm feeling. It is something that is related to comfort, along with a simpler time removed from the anxiety of the present. But can this same nostalgia be a source of terror? The wonderful eerie world of analogue horror delivers this promise, where all-(so-called) simplicity of childhood to the VHS-Laying Film Watching Association late into the night-sustaining quality that is difficult to streamline. Technology that is almost colored is often used to present low -grain or twisted audio footage that ranges from purely nasty to frustrating cryptic.

It is worth noting that the analogue horror is a pretty recent subgenre that burst into importance in the late 2000s, drawing strongly from the horror recordings and the experimental cinema that came before. If the "Witch Project of the Witch" of 1999 has crossed your mindThat's for a good reason: precisely the kind of powerful fiction acted as the forerunner of confusing the mysteries of the Internet that were believed to be realistic for the longest time. Similarly, Surreal films such as the Digital "Indland Empire" (which relies on unconventional images to weave their complex themes) for years has influenced the Internet creepypasta, along with alternative reality games (Args) that use multimedia narratives to avoid the audience.

Before dissecting the origin of the analogue horror, to identify its trademarks. Most entries in this subgenira use a reduced, grainy footage to preserve the feeling of tension and imitate the aesthetics of the VHS strips or CRT TVs. Audio records are deliberately distorted or shiny to convey uneasy, but none of these aesthetic choices work without that attractive use of fragmented narrative. You see, the mark of a good analog web series for horror or Arg is its ability to disorient viewers while hovering indications, where the goal is to continue the mystery as long as possible. The feeling of foretelling is crucial - after all, which is more tempting than the attractiveness of the forbidden truth?

It is impossible to talk about analogue horror without exploring Creepypasta's mini-world. Creepypasta can be understood as translation only to the internet of urban legend, as the latter is directly extracted from myth or folk traditions. Since these stories came from anonymous online messaging records, their once unusual connotations gradually engaged in the territory of Mem-Education. You must have heard of the darkened, unnaturally high sluderman, which comes from Creepypasta since 2009 for the title of monster kidnapping and terrorizing its victims in the woods. He is now an icon for pop culture, marking our collective fear of an impersonal, humanoid entity that has the power to hurt people unchanged. Although the concept of such a monster is known (and is investigated extensively in horror media), Sleddererman crapses inhale a new life in this latent anxiety.

Monsters are not the only manifestations of collective fear, as analogue horror also accepts realism to cause a sense of anxiety. What happens when something as worldly as a yellow wall building becomes a disturbing internet phenomenon? This is the basic attraction of the "rear rooms", which began as the only image on the messaging board and now causes complex orub, viral short films, a dozen video games and Even the upcoming adaptation of the film. The concept is simple: you can accidentally "nail" out of reality and get stuck in the back rooms whose infinite corridors cause disorienting experience to be stuck in a criminal space.

Although there are monsters hidden in the corners, the fear lies in the subversion of the famous. The office is almost always filled with people so that the concept of being alone (and surrounded by creatures that are no human) in such a space immediately causes panic. Countless analogue horror records profit to this feeling, using images that are vague nostalgic, such as an abandoned park or an empty classroom after the darkness. But there is something "excluded" for these famous spaces, introducing a sense of unreality that begins to feel suffocating.

Analog horror boasts dynamic angles, as the subgenerer accommodates stories that have different approaches to horror. Some stories are more heartfelt than most, such as Dreamcore's web series "The sins of the past", While others enter classic primary fears, as deeply disturbing Series of Baswood County. However, one of the first cases of analogue horror that came to expose and define the subgenerer is Chris Strawub's "Local 58", a series of YouTube, where regular programming of the title of TV channel is constantly kidnapped with the incessant footage. Strawub's series was the first to describe itself as an analogue horror, and therefore the establishment of what will traditionally be associated with this unique subgenir.

To be called "local 58", the Internet sensation is an underestimation. That Mimicry format of news-ticket on the "Special Newsletter" variety And it undermines it, using segmented videos to set the horror and then release it. Straub cementing a definitive aspect of the subgenerer immediately from the bat: the perverted attraction of urgent broadcasting, which interrupts the humdrum of our existence to warn us of the danger that is both unpredictable and foreign. While these PSAs encourage us to stay calm, they constantly increase anxiety through subtle context signs, using the aesthetics of the genre such as glitches and outdated technology to drive the point at home. "Local 58" also casts suspicion of things we have taken for granted, like the moon (!), To which unusual messages seem to destabilize our sense of reality.

While the web series immediately signals that it is a fiction (despite being comfortable convincing), some internet sensations use analogue horror in secret ways to appear in reality. Tony Domenico's Petscop is the most successful example of the series "Let's play" on YouTube, claiming authenticity, where the channel owner is walking through a vague, long -lost game that seems to stumble. Viewers have debated the existence of the game for the longest time, because the surreal, tricky game is good enough to believe that such a mysterious title exists for some purpose.

The combination of Domenico acts as a narrator of meat and blood and indi-indi, aesthetics similar to Arg, creates a persecutive story of abuse, corruption and rebirth. I still find myself back in this game series for more, because Domenico consciously embedded elements waiting to be discovered in the background. The fact that "Petoscope" was not identified as fiction until the end of the series is a testimony to the visceral power of the analogue horror, which can imitate reality a little too good for our collective comfort.

The analogue horror has been for a long time, but when the director re -runs the subgene to create a story that leaves an indelible mark, it guarantees a deep discussion. I'm talking about "Skinamarink" by Kyle Edward Ball, who is running out (and delighted) enthusiasts for horror like a viral, mystifying internet sensation. On paper, it carries all features of standard analogue horror: granular visual, minimal dialogue, deliberate glitches and abstractly surrealistic fiber. However, in her heart, "Skinamarink" is a simulation of the children's nightmare, a kind where tears are hugging in your dream, but you are not able to move or inches on survival.

/Movie Winnie Seibard wrote Generally brilliant disclosure of nightmare psychology in "Skinamarink", So, readers who want to skip this mysterious rabbit hole should absolutely check it. I have previously pointed out how the analogue horror imposes the famous/nostalgic to be effective, but "Skinamarink" completely changes our memories related to child innocence and the comfort of living in one's home. Young children wandering through the tinted corridors of their home at Skinamarink have no luxury to stick to their parents for safety. The comforting lull of cartoons in the public domain on television late at night is constantly interrupted by frightening whispers and no exits, as doors and windows have disappeared inexplicably.

The ball puts us in a home that suddenly becomes a criminal space, posing as a port for something more appropriate than the exposed voice that threatens children to respect them. Accepts every genre of zeal, including fragmented storytelling stories and completing completionBut it represents these trops in the most elegant ways. We know that the "sink" is fiction, but the horror lies in the unclear feeling that you may have felt such disorientation of the mind as a child. It is a lime analogue horror in the best shape, where the ball injects discomfort in the closeness of the beds we sleep on, or the secular corridor connecting our living rooms.