The Atmosphere Of Hope's Peak Academy (Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc)

It’s not just the words that tell the stories of respective works of art. There are exponentially more ways to deliver wordless narrative than that through which is spoken or read. It is these methods that create the complex tapestry of what we refer to as “the story” of any respective work of art, be it mannerisms from well-defined characters, gameplay mechanics that deepen our understanding of character or world, environmental design to create the illusion of the passage of time and life’s existence with a space they no longer inhabit, and in the case of Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, it thrives in the area of wordless narrative through it’s sound design, music, and collective atmosphere.

Considering that Danganronpa (meaning “Bullet Refutation” in Japanese) is a visual novel one would expect that in lieu of more “traditional” forms of video games that it would be those very words that sell the story and its intentions most to us. And as tightly woven, intriguing, and twisting as its standard narrative delivery is from Kazutaka Kodaka complete with some of the more fascinating characterization you’ll see in fiction combined with a flair for the dramatic, the written words and spoken dialogue are just one of many things Trigger Happy Havoc does with it’s elements that feel truly top of it’s class.

Let’s set the stage: You play as Makoto Naegi. One of 15 students recently invited to attend the prestigious high school Hope’s Peak Academy. Soon after arriving at the school, all of the new students are confronted by a remote controlled black and white teddy bear named Monokuma who traps them within the walls of the school, told they will be imprisoned here for the rest of their lives, and forces them to partake in a “killing game” in which the 15 students are passively encouraged to kill each other. Break any of the school rules and you will be put to death, no questions asked. When a student is killed by another student, thus begins the investigation and then class trial phase, in which the students must work to discover the truth. If they convict the correct student, that person will be sentenced to death. If the student who commits the murder gets away with their crime, the rest of the student body will be killed and the “blackened” will be allowed to go free.

If that in and of itself is not conceptually fascinating enough, it is in how the setting of Hope’s Peak Academy makes its mark on the player. Hope’s Peak isn’t merely a place that you inhabit, you FEEL it and all of it’s eerie and empty, forlorn space.

When given the chance to explore the school at your leisure, a striking visual design, a mixture of 2D and 3D environments, create a truly unique space in which to move around in. It almost creates the the feeling that you are reading a living, breathing pop-up book. As the assets and characters in the each respective room you are loading into individually fold into place. The scheming for each area a striking contrast of faded and vibrant colors, the checkerboard flooring creating a black and white juxtaposition against the lighting.

Every once in a while passing by students getting their bearings, trying to figure out a potential plan of escape via any means possible, even including the methods Monokuma encourages. Security cameras, television screens, and machine gun turrets protrude from the ceiling and walls, the windows covered with bolted metal plates. 

Each footstep you take gives a hollow and isolating thud as you pass through the sparsely populated halls and empty rooms of the school. Your e-handbook diagetically existing within the world as your pause menu. It’s lo-fi electronic sound quality lending a gruff and clandestine piece to a wholly haunting and dreadful soundscape. The click of each door feels truly seismic, rippling throughout the walls as you look over your shoulder, wondering who is behind you, ready to pounce, take their advantage and strike you down in a mixture of hope and despair. 

In and amongst all of this atmospheric brilliance, Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc has one large trick up its sleeve: It’s masterfully realized brilliance of its soundtrack composed by Masafumi Takada.

It doesn’t so much as supplement the experience as it does stand alongside it’s other elements as well as provide a thematic and tonal congruence with the experience Danganronpa is trying to (and wildly succeeding) to convey. It’s mixture of unhinged, off-kilter, maniacal and sadistic isolation and emptiness is balanced out with a hopeful and utilitarian but ebbing and flowing optimism while still keeping the despair firmly in the picture.

“Beautiful Days” is the optimism of new experiences with it’s bouncy percussion and gentle guitar tabs with an empty airy harmonizing tone and a gruff grinding synth to remind you of your impending unsafeness in these halls and to inject that unknown fear into the the push and pull. “Beautiful Morning” does the same with a far more legato and distant feeling sound palette. Drenching acid synths supplement the slow and droning theremin. “Beautiful Death” being the calm after the storm that accompanies you while walking about the school in the aftermath of a trial. The exhausting and hopelessness setting in with its weighty piano and remote cavernous percussive beats.

“Despair Syndrome (2)” and “Despair Syndrome (1)” working in tandem with each other, the former a discombobulated driving bongo drum beat with a unsettling and sinister synth harmony hammering home the absurdly cruel and malevolent situation you find yourself in. The mystery of who and why banging about your head. The latter the distant and empty resignation that someone will die, someone you know, maybe even cared about, committed the unthinkable and we condemn them to death for the crime of infinite sadness with no way out.

When in the investigation phase after a death the tracks that commonly make an appearance are the guttural and raspy “DISTRUST” making you wonder just how truthful the person you’re investigating with is about their involvement. The “Box 15” instilling a sense of urgency and commitment to the pace of the investigation.

The tracks that accompany the trial do an excellent job of balancing out the disconnect between working together with your fellow students while also reminding you of the inability to completely trust as the people you may have been working with could also be trying to deflect suspicion away from each other. The tightrope is shrinking even further between your friendliness and suspicion of these people you have been living with for who knows how long. All of the respective “Class Trial” titled tracks do great work selling the procedure aspects of uncovering information through testimony. In particular the class trial track “[THE SUN]” does a great job of creating a sense of discovery and revelation through its electronic beats. The despondent “Death Wish” carries with it a resignation and uncertainty as to not what will come next, but in how it will come. Learning more about that particular case’s culprit and what their motive was. Screeching and empty ambience with a healthy dose of harmonizing strings.

Then the anger sets in again. Monokuma the mastermind. Who is he? Who are “THEY”? Is it more than one person? Whoever they are they certainly enjoy it. “Mr. Monokuma’s Lesson” often accompanying his appearance. A dread-inducing melody begets an unclean horn which itself leads into almost cult-like chanting. This is funny to them. They are toying with their prey before eating it. But then “Mr. Monokuma After Class” reminds you of their deadly seriousness. They’re making a difference. You’re changing. Can you feel the despair? It’s the only proof you need. The game continues. Best of luck to you.

Disease spreads from one host to the next, and depending on the severity of the sickness and type of disease being spread, those predisposed to having the body and the chemical strength to overcome it will be crippled by it, it will come to define more of their life than they ever thought it would, more than they ever wanted it to. If these physical ailments have the capacity to propagate and spread throughout the masses, then who is to say that something we all share, the capacity for despair, won’t propagate as well? As our faceless overlords test our capacity to endure creating test after test for us to pass, expecting us to succumb to what they want. Our broken spirit. But in that same way, if the nihilism and meaninglessness they want us to believe is the only truth of this world can spread, then so can hope. So can our capacity to trust, to believe in, and to work with one another. And the resulting camaraderie, regardless of how it comes about, can start that path on a micro level. We are better and more than our darkest impulses in our most vulnerable moments.