The past is a demon in Fatal Frame 2: Crimson Butterfly Remake. With every step protagonist Mio Amakura takes through the abandoned Japanese village she and her sister find themselves trapped in, history is always stalking just closely behind. It’s there to feed on her shame over her inability to protect her big sister. It’s there to torment her by revealing the town’s barbaric past. It’s there to surround her with ghosts of brutally murdered locals. There is no escape from a legacy of darkness; you have to confront it in close-up.
For its remake of the 2003 third-person horror classic, Koei Tecmo can’t shy away from its past either. The new version of Fatal Frame 2 resurrects a beloved but imperfect cult classic by staying true to its quirks and emphasizing its enduring horror. That faithful task is counterbalanced by a more radical reinvention that struggles to rewrite history convincingly. The tension makes for an uneven remake that’s too eager to hide from its past in the safe shadow of modernization.
Fatal Frame 2 tells the story of twin sisters Mio and Mayu, who find themselves trapped in a literal ghost town trapped in eternal darkness. As they search for an escape, they uncover that the village was once the site of a murderous ritual, as told in scattered documents penned by folklorists and victims. Now, it’s inhabited by wraiths who haunt decaying shacks and manors that can only be exorcised with the Camera Obscura, a mystical camera that takes supernatural snapshots. It doesn’t take long for the sisters to be swept up in a horrifying recreation of the past that has them reckoning with both the town’s history and their own anxieties as siblings.
Much like Bloober Team’s surprisingly strong Silent Hill 2 reinterpretation, the best qualities of the Fatal Frame 2 remake are all the choices that emphasize that unnerving story. Most notable is the way it goes to greater lengths to underline the central relationship between Mio and Mayu. The story around the sisters may be one of death and darkness, but their sincere love for one another has always been the heart of Fatal Frame 2. In a small addition to the remake, players can now grab Mayu’s hand whenever the two are together. It sounds like a trivial addition, but it’s more impactful than any graphics boost. It gives players a physical connection to Mio’s sister. I was immediately protective of Mayu the first time I used the feature, just as Mio is, and terrified anytime she left my sight. (Holding Mayu’s hand regenerates Mio’s health, so you really feel her absence whenever she gets lost during the story.) My index finger was always firmly glued to my right trigger whenever I was near her — a shining example of interactivity having the power to communicate as much as writing.
Other changes are similarly classy. There are new optional side stories that let Mio learn more about the people who died in the village. Those bite-sized tales naturally slot into the original game’s campfire ghost story premise while giving longtime fans a little more lore to pore over.
On a technical side, the overhauled visuals further emphasize what’s always been special about Fatal Frame 2. Even though it’s working with clean, modern visuals, the new look retains the grunginess of the PS2 version quite well. (Cutscenes still retain a graininess that make them look like memories run through rotting film reels.) Every surface is filthy, like the town has been drowned under passing rainstorms and dried out hundreds of times. The addition of a flashlight really lets you see that grit up close in sickly detail, while adding an extra hit of tension to the survival horror exploration. The town is expanded a bit too, making it feel more like a lived-in village rather than a collection of puzzle-box houses to be solved. The soul of the original game lives on in those respectful changes.
The remake is far less effective when it tries to modernize the original game. Combat is the biggest victim of that misguided approach. In the original Fatal Frame 2, Mio can only fight wraiths by taking photographs of them. This was a genius idea for a survival horror game: it forced you to face ghosts head-on in a deconstructed first-person shooter where you’re always playing chicken with ghosts that lunge towards your lens. The remake retains those fundamentals, and even builds on them well in some places. You now have control of both zoom and focus, giving you more nobs to fiddle with as you try to frame a perfect, high-damage shot while a ghost closes in on you. There are some quality-of-life considerations too, making it easier to swap film types on the fly.
It all seems like a step up in the first few wraith encounters, but the reworked systems overcomplicate a simple idea. For instance, ghosts can now become enraged at random points during fights, causing them to regenerate health, get a little beefier, and deal more damage. That change drags even the most basic enemy encounters out. Battles are longer because of it, and dealing with more than one enemy often creates a frustrating juggling act that’s more mechanically annoying than tense or scary. Koei Tecmo tries to justify those longer fights by adding even more combat nuance. You can evade ghosts with a stiff dodge step, and there’s a photography equivalent to a parry (yes, really) that will let you briefly take a bunch of photos in succession without waiting for the film to reload. Mio can also gain lenses that have special shots, like ones that can blind enemies or clean gunk off her lens. (Those powers are better used for a bit of Metroidvania level design that gives you good reason to explore between chapters.) It’s all more involved as far as combat goes, but it takes away from the fear that you’re a defenseless kid whose only line of defense is her ability to keep her composure while framing shots through shaky hands.
More frustrating is the addition of a Willpower gauge, an unnecessary bit of resource management that never makes a strong case for its existence. It’s basically Fatal Frame’s version of a stamina bar mixed with a shield. Running, evading, or taking hits can all drain Willpower, which can be regained naturally over time or manually by snapping photographs. So many things deplete that bar that it feels like you’re constantly low on Willpower, moving slower without it and unable to spend it to pull off special shots in battle. I never felt like I could manage it with intent, turning every encounter into a long, messy fight.
The reworked action feels like an attempt to “improve” the slim action of the original game. That’s the fatal flaw of so many modern game remakes. Design limitations define the PS2 version. There’s so much tension that comes out of just trying to frame a perfect shot, keeping your attention firmly on a wraith’s terrifying face as it gets closer and closer to the lens. I found myself more distracted from the tension the more camera tools I got or system nuances I learned. I feel the same way about the addition of repetitive jump scares that try to manufacture scary moments where the original just let its moody atmosphere unnerve you. In trying to make the combat “better” by modern standards, Koei Tecmo has drained a bit of Fatal Frame 2’s soul.
Despite polarizing feelings from players, game remakes can be valuable. At their best, they can look to the past through a new lens and find something that’s been hidden in plain sight all along, much like Mio’s camera can. They can capture the experience of looking at a molding family photograph and noticing some weird figure lurking in the background that your grandparents never noticed. When the new take on Fatal Frame 2 takes care to focus on Mio and Mayu’s relationship or the tragic history of the town around them, it unearths new levels of emotional depth to a story that has haunted players for decades. When it’s just trying to make an old game more fun, it’s about as substantial as a selfie.
