Repulsive Attraction

Turns out there’s a knack to evocative paraphernalia.

When you queue at Disneyland, there’s a load of fake stuff lying about for you to point at while you’re bored. You know, Indiana Jones’s in-flight magazine or Chewbacca’s escritoire or something.

Some arcade games are like that: you can straddle a motorbike or hold a vacuum cleaner nozzle and get transported by your imagination.

House of the Dead is absolutely in that category, but I think the monster-flesh uzi holsters are over-egged.

The eager contortions of the plastic zombies give the game away: *real* zombies wouldn’t behave like that. They’d be lumbering towards you if they were blaring their tongues out, or they’d be keeping quiet, spying deviously, if they were playing statues. Here they’re tongue-blaring *and* staying still, which is not convincing.

I wasn’t scared for one second.

I wasn’t!

What?

I wasn’t!

I wasn’t.