Playing [as] the Victim

Upon opening Curtain for the first time, I was immediately reminded of Ryerson’s Problem Attic for one obvious reason - the pixelated graphics. However, as I moved through the ostentatiously colored, pixelated space, and explored the narrative of the game, I found that the games shared similarities beyond the graphics. Like Problem Attic, Curtain is powerful portrayal of trauma, manipulation, and the concept of feeling trapped.

When Curtain begins, the player finds herself standing on a neon purple pathway in the middle of a black void. With no instruction, she has no choice but to move forward. Unlike a platformer like Problem Attic, a First Person game such as Curtain is inherently focused on forward movement. Forward momentum is both part of the game’s procedural rhetoric, and a major theme of the game’s narrative. In spite of the confusion about who you are, where you are, and what you are doing, you keep moving forward, as you do in life, no matter what you have suffered. Playing as Ally, you feel as lost as she is, meandering through an abstract space. In the absence of human bodies or any guidance in the form of corporeality, the only reassurance that you’re not alone comes from bodiless blue textboxes, often Kaci’s words, wrought with manipulation. Of course, in Problem Attic, players get virtually no guidance at all. Playing Problem Attic, you feel trapped in your own head, coping with the experience of enduring someone else’s abuse. Playing Curtain, you are trapped in the abuse as it’s happening.

Towards the beginning of the game, when you (as Ally) come across the bedroom for the first time, you discover that Ally is glad to have moved away from home, but she feels stifled by Kaci and the band; everything seems to revolve around Kaci and the band. Then, Kaci begins “coming on to you.” I was struck by how predatorial Kaci feels in Curtain, considering we never actually see her. The fact that Kaci’s bodiless words elicit such discomfort is a helpful way of understanding the nature of both abusive relationships, sexual harassment, and the victim blaming that often accompanies them.

Playing Curtain, you feel uncomfortable and anxious the entire time, but you don’t really understand why. After all, Kaci is being complimentary, right? She keeps telling you how hot you are, how much she loves you. She is not being physically abusive; in fact, she quite literally doesn’t have any sort of physicality. Perhaps you feel frustrated with yourself for feeling this discomfort and confusion. After all, Ally is happy to be away from home, right? I would be interested in further discussing the ways in which Curtain’s narrative and mechanics comment on victim blaming.