Abstract: This chapter delves into the immersive experience of watching one's own home videos within the familiar confines of home, challenging traditional notions of immersion typically associated with large screens and exotic locales. By connecting the content of home videos with their domestic reception context, the chapter explores how this seemingly mundane activity can offer a profound engagement with memory and self-reflection. Drawing on concepts of virtual reality and spectatorship, the chapter examines the complexities of familial affect and the role of memory in shaping immersive experiences. It argues that while home videos may lack the technological sophistication of mainstream immersive media, they offer a unique form of immersion rooted in personal experience and memory. Through a close analysis of personal home video footage, the chapter demonstrates how the act of viewing one's own past on screen can evoke a sense of virtual presence and introspection.

Keywords: immersion, domesticity, self-reflection, domesticity, amateur media

Moving image media has always had an intimate relationship with elsewhere. From early ethnographic films and amateur travelogues to the television screen's characterization as “your window on the world,” moving images have long promised spectators the experience of sight-seeing, exploration, and discovery. Frequently characterized by their large screens, big budgets, and ability to all but physically transport viewers to unique locales, immersive media technologies’ capacity to enmesh viewers’ sensoria in faraway or imagined places would especially seem to exclude the quotidian experience of watching run-of-the-mill home videos in the domestic space. Nevertheless, the unique synonymy of home video's content and its likewise domestic reception context evidences the home mode's unique ability to extend spectatorial engagement beyond the screen. Connecting home video images’ there-and-then with the reception context's here-and-now, watching one's own home videos within the home constitutes a counterintuitive but rich instance of spectatorial immersion.

In fact, the experience of viewing one's own home videos within the home sounds eerily like Oliver Grau's pioneering definition of the virtual experience as “immersing oneself in the image space, moving and interacting there in ‘real time,’ and intervening creatively.” Connecting the domestic space on the screen with the domestic space of the screen, viewing home video within the home uniquely immerses the viewer in the home video image.

Abstract: This book chapter explores the concept of immersion and its relationship with technology, narratives, and human cognition. Immersion has historically been associated with cognitive absorption in various narrative forms, but the emergence of virtual reality (VR) shifted its focus towards technological experiences. However, technology alone does not guarantee immersion, as individual experiences can vary. The chapter introduces a dual cognitive approach to immersion, differentiating between sensory and mental immersions, particularly through the manifestations of presence and narrative engagement. The chapter examines the nature, contributing factors, and potential effects of these immersive states, and explores their interaction in media such as video games. This cognitive framework aids in addressing issues in presence studies, immersive storytelling, VR research, and video game analysis.

Key words: immersion, presence, narrative engagement, cognition, perception, imagination

Introduction

Historically, researchers applied the concept of immersion to describe some sort of cognitive absorption or blending, which was long before virtual reality (VR) and contemporary media technologies appeared. They applied immersion to mental engagement with paintings, music, literature, movies, or other forms of narratives. However, the development of VR technologies changed the whole concept of immersion. In fact, in the 1990s, only VR technologies earned the label “immersive” while some vehicle simulators did not, even though today they would certainly qualify. Eventually, immersion became a more widespread term, but it still often refers to technology, or rather to the technological quality of simulation media such as VR.

At the same time, technology is not necessarily a definitive factor in immersive experiences, because qualities such as a bigger screen or a higher fidelity of representation “might make it easier for users to focus and to keep their attention on the representation, but this does not necessarily mean that users will feel more present in the environment portrayed.” In other words, technology can be designed to be immersive, but it does not guarantee the production of immersion. Different people might have unique experiences with the same technology, or even more than that, the same technology might both evoke and disrupt immersion.

Abstract: This chapter deploys the concept of atmosphere in its consideration of video game immersion, arguing that a game's atmosphere, a neglected topic until recently within game studies, is critical to the gaming experience. Through a phenomenological approach, the chapter underscores the importance of the player's bodily experiences, and it highlights how these experiences and the game's atmosphere interweave to foster immersion. Using examples from specific video games, such as Super Mario Bros., Castlevania, Dark Souls, and Wolfenstein: The New Order, the author elucidates how design elements influence a game's atmosphere and consequently the player's immersive experience. The study thereby enriches the understanding of immersion in video games, emphasizing the role of atmosphere and its connection to players’ embodied experiences.

Keywords: video game, atmosphere, embodiment, affect, phenomenology

Immersion is a controversial and polarizing term within game studies. The word generally refers to feelings of presence, intense absorption, or generally being-there, and it is common to read forum comments or reviews claiming that a video game is “particularly immersive” or that a game mechanic or writing “breaks the immersion.” In the literature, the term is often compared, used as synonym for, or contrasted with terms found in VR studies and presence theory, such as “presence” and “telepresence.”

Game scholars conceptualize immersion as a complex phenomenon: some understand immersion as a perceptual illusion, others as psychological engagement in a task, others still as an absorption in fictional worlds or even as a form of posture adopted by the player, as indicated by Carl Therrien in his review on the topic. This complexity is reflected in the writings of Brenda Laurel, who highlights a visual, aural, and kinaesthetic sensory immersion; in the works on narrative immersion by Janet H. Murray and Marie-Laure Ryan; in the phenomenological reflections of Geoff King and Tanya Krzywinska on how immersion is a matter of immersion in game worlds; and in the work on affective immersion of Eugenie Shinkle as well as Ciara Cremin.

Recently, there has been a growing interest in the role of the player body in immersive game experiences. Exemplary, in this regard, is Brendan Keogh's phenomenological critique of immersion as total absorption.

Abstract: (From the artist's website) Skawennati makes art that addresses history, the future, and change from her perspective as an urban Kanien’kehá:ka (Mohawk) woman and as a cyberpunk avatar. Her early adoption of cyberspace as both a location and a medium for her practice has produced groundbreaking projects such as CyberPowWow and Time-Traveller™. She is best known for her machinimas—movies made in virtual environments—but also produces still images, textiles, and sculpture.

Keywords: Three Sisters, Indigenous futures, machinima, Second Life, Aboriginal Territories in Cyberspace (AbTeC)

In the TimeTraveller ™ machinima series, technology appears to be completely transparent: the protagonist wears minimalist goggles and types in mid-air to navigate history, moving seamlessly between an embodied ancestor (such as a Kanien’kehá:ka warrior during the Oka crisis), historical documents or TV broadcasts recreated in the 3D engine. In some of your ideal Indigenous futures, technology has evolved as an emancipatory tool for everyone. Do you think our institutions and the immersive tech sector are inspired by the utopian visions that you and other artists provide? What policies would be needed to move forward in that direction?

Skawennati: I certainly don't believe that the tech world is looking at my thing going: “Oh, yeah, let's do that!” I think we have all been inspired by utopian visions of technology seen in Star Trek for instance—you know, the tricorder, the transporter, the replicator, etc. A lot of the technologies we have now, like the iPhone, have been inspired by these visions. I do think art has the potential to influence inventors and corporations, at least I hope it does.

In terms of what policies would be needed to move forward: I’m thinking about a policy of degrowth. I believe that the biggest problem we’re facing in this world is greed, really. If we can figure out a way to overcome that, I think a lot of amazing stuff is achievable, for a lot of people.

Star Trek is a fascinating example to reflect on utopia and growth. The original series engaged with the idea of pushing the frontier and the colonial narrative of Manifest Destiny in a critical manner.

Abstract: This chapter presents an in-depth study of correlations between the dimensions of immersion and the dimensions of authenticity in the representations of historical fencing in For Honor and Hellish Quart. The study is based on M. Mochocki's dual model of immersion/authenticity, which includes six types of immersion defined by S. L. Bowman, and five types of authenticity by N. Wang. It demonstrates how the immersive experience of authenticity (or vice versa: the authenticity of the experienced immersion) is shaped in audiovisual communication, in simulative game mechanics, in the embodied contact with the interface, and in the textual and paratextual communication between the developers and society.

Keywords: heritage, historical games, fencing, martial arts, realism, simulation, authenticity

Introduction

We view immersion as a six-dimensional experience. Each of these dimensions is described in Sarah Lynne Bowman's adaptation of Gordon Calleja's layers of involvement: spatial, narrative, affective, kinaesthetic, shared, and ludic. Bowman notably divides immersion into: environment, narrative, character, activity, community, and game. Michal Mochocki aligns five of these dimensions of the human experience, described by Bernd Schmitt as verbs: “Sense,” “Think,” “Feel,” “Act,” and “Relate” (with no “Play” verb to go with immersion-into-game).

In our exploration of For Honor (Ubisoft, 2017) and Hellish Quart (Kubold, 2021) (henceforth: FH and HQ), we rely on Mochocki's dual model of immersion/ authenticity. Mochocki correlates five of the six involvements described by Bowman and Calleja with the five dimensions of authenticity observed by Ning Wang and by Mariana Bueno de Andrade Matos and Maria de Lourdes de Azevedo Barbosa. This assumes that immersion in history/heritage-themed games is correlated with the experience of heritage authenticity—and that their five dimensions are too, translatable through Schmitt's language of “experiential” verbs.

Multiple layers of immersion/authenticity may be part of the same experience, overlapping and interconnected. They are not equal, though, in intensity. One or two may dominate, especially when they are prioritized by specific games, genres, and platforms. The configuration of these forms of immersion translates to particular types of experiential authenticity facilitated by in-game interactions with history/heritage content. For instance, Attentat 1942 (Charles Games, 2017) is designed primarily for narrative immersion aided by environment immersion, which Mochocki compared to museum visits.

Abstract: This chapter delves into the phenomenon of “phantom ride” films, a popular form of early actuality cinema at the turn of the twentieth century. These films, shot from the front of moving vehicles such as trains, trams, and eventually automobiles, provided viewers with a unique point of view (POV) experience, immersing them in the space traversed by the camera. Drawing from Lynne Kirby's concept of locomotive perception, the author explores how these films, typically associated with train travel, introduced audiences to a form of “protoautomobility” long before automobiles became widely accessible. Finally, through a discussion of notable examples like “Leaving Jerusalem by Railway” and “The Haverstraw Tunnel,” the article highlights the immersive and anticipatory nature of these films in shaping viewers’ perceptions of mobility.

Keywords: point of view (POV), early cinema, film history, travel films

Fusing the rollercoaster, the locomotive, and the cinema (and anticipating the point of view [POV] of automobility), one of the most popular early actualities at the turn of the century was the “phantom ride” film. Typically lasting anywhere from one to over six minutes, phantom ride films were shot from the front of a moving vehicle (most of them were filmed from a train, but others were shot from trams, trolleys, streetcars, subways, boats, and eventually automobiles). The camera could be mounted to either the front or the back of the moving vehicle. Most often, the vehicle that the camera and cameraman or camerawoman were mounted to remained unseen in the film, hence the ghostly or “phantom” nature of these films. The resulting POV ranged from striking to spectacular, putting the spectator in the position of a traveller, immersed in the space that the camera moved through. Aligned seamlessly with the camera, its movement became their movement, transforming the viewer into a Traveller-Spectator. This chapter will explore how these phantom ride films, typically associated with train travel, are responsible for introducing the mode of perception equated with automobility long before most filmgoers had even seen an automobile. Building from the influential argument framed by Lynne Kirby in her book Parallel Tracks: The Railroad and Silent Cinema (1997) that locomotive perception was protocinematic, this chapter argues that phantom ride films offered cinema's earliest audiences a unique experience of protoautomobility long before most people had even seen an automobile (let alone been in one).

Abstract: This chapter analyzes three theatrical VR productions, namely Tempest (2020) by Tender Claws, Finding Pandora X (2020) by Double Eye Studio, and Welcome to Respite! (2021) by CoAct Productions and Ferryman Collective. After offering an overview of various design suggestions for contemporary theatrical VR productions, the chapter will show that this type of performance, which has the capacity to bring remote audiences together, can offer new possibilities for co-presence and a sense of liveness, even though these productions still face technological barriers. This can be achieved with the help of the particular mechanics of Live Action Role-Playing (LARP) and immersive theatre. The article concludes by pointing out the limitations of virtual immersive theatre compared to analogue immersive theatre performances and offering possible design suggestions to enhance the immersive experience.

Keywords: theatre, experience design, VRChat

Introduction

Since 2020, COVID-19 lockdowns created new challenges but also new and imaginative mediated theatrical possibilities for performance makers. Audiences had the chance to experience theatrical events that involved liveness and co-presence in many forms, especially in video conferencing and other web-based forms. Meanwhile, new and affordable stand-alone Virtual Reality (VR) headsets appeared on the market.

In this chapter, I will offer an analysis of these new immersive strategies. I will overview various design suggestions for contemporary theatrical VR productions and present three immersive theatrical VR productions as case studies, namely Tempest (2020), by Tender Claws, Finding Pandora X (2020), by Double Eye Studio, and Welcome to Respite! (2021), by CoAct Productions and Ferryman Collective. I will show that this type of performance, which has the capacity to bring remote audiences together, can offer new possibilities for co-presence and the sense of liveness, even though these productions are still fighting the barriers of technology. This can be achieved with the help of the particular mechanics of Live Action Role-Playing (LARP) and immersive theatre. I will conclude by pointing out the limitations of virtual immersive theatre compared to analogue immersive theatre performances.

In our contemporary media culture, it seems difficult to disconnect from immersion. The concept features prominently in much of the marketing for new audiovisual tech, from earbuds to video game controllers and 4K projectors. Exhibition spaces, design studios, and event production firms frontload it in their branding strategies. Immersion sells, in theory. 2016 was widely presented as “The Year of Virtual Reality” in the trade press, fuelled by the techno-optimism of major industrial players finally jumping headfirst into the VR adventure, hoping to make their new headsets the most desirable option for moviegoers, video game players, and office procrastinators. But these audiences didn't embrace innovation as expected. Then 2017 became the year of VR… and then 2018. In 2019, Leighton Evans published “The Re-Emergence of Virtual Reality,” highlighting that the medium is still breaking through, facing barriers to mass consumer adoption. Writing about the latest augmented reality headsets released by Apple in 2024, Wagner James Au amplifies Avi Bar-Zeev's challenge to tech companies, inviting them to discuss publicly how many people are nauseated by these new technologies, a percentage estimated to be rather high.

To this day, VR's coming of age is still not exactly what the venture capitalists hoped for. The Void, a novel mixed-reality attraction using VR headsets and haptic feedback to augment its generic walls, fans, and heat lamps with the wonders of major blockbuster franchises from Disney, was severely impacted by the COVID-19 pandemic; all venues were closed by 2020. On the domestic front, the pandemic created an incentive for everyone to upgrade their access point to the metaverse(s). Yet again, the big breakthrough didn't occur as expected. In an article published in The Guardian on May 13, 2023, John Naughton comically underscores these shattered ambitions with a solemn tone: “A moment's silence, please, for the death of Mark Zuckerberg's Metaverse.” Yet with so much money invested, permadeath is often unacceptable for these players, who frequently hint that a comeback might be lurking around the corner.

Abstract: To what extent does immersion contribute to the emotional experience of fictional works? Could it be that emotions are essential ingredients to immersive experiences? How should we distinguish these two states of mind? Many scholars have modelled the viewer's experience of emotion after perception and have connected it with immersion, suggesting that fictional works are similar to illusions. Game studies have mostly turned to motivational theories of emotion and immersion, drawing attention to how both states require investment of the self. This chapter examines both the perceptual model and the motivational account with the intent of laying an appropriate groundwork for understanding the conceptual connection between emotion and immersion in the context of engaging with fictional works.

Keywords: emotion, investment, video game, fiction, fear, guilt

One common assumption about emotions is that they are indicative of a lack of perspective, whether they are caused by works of fiction or not. Emotions are said to denote biases and partiality, not critical distance and considerations. When we experience them, we see the world from a very specific angle, without being able to account for what may be relevant to our understanding of the situation. In art or media analysis classes, we have learned to set our emotions aside, so they do not interfere with the cold, calculating, and all-encompassing judgment that is privileged instead. This is also what expressions such as “love is blind” or “blind rage” suggests. The emotional person is not perceiving the world as it truly is. Hence, following this line of thought, emotions are sources of misguidance of which we should be wary.

This widespread assumption—notably in the history of Western philosophy— is also tied to another common idea about how emotions operate when consuming fictional works. Why do we care about characters and feel invested in their fate? One popular explanation is that we lose awareness, for a moment, of the fictional status of the represented events. It is as if we were there with the characters, thanks to a spell that makes fiction and reality blur together. We may call this spell “immersion” or “presence,” which is also indicative of a lack of perspective.

Abstract: Immersive experiences are typically associated with entering alternative worlds, often represented as distinct spatial environments. This paper challenges such conventional notions of immersion by arguing that the contexts of immersion aren't spatially articulated “worlds” but temporally structured “situations” of limited scope. We propose a novel concept of immersion, asserting that being immersed in a situation involves being experientially and actively in sync with its unfolding temporal structure, rhythm, vibe, and pace. Drawing on the phenomenology of (film) experience and following the wave metaphor, we examine the underlying dynamics of time experience in immersive encounters. This expanded understanding of immersion has profound implications, bridging the gap between film experience and everyday life and revealing the political dimensions of immersive experience.

Keywords: situation, wave, temporality, immersion, phenomenology, frame theory

Inhabiting the Waves: The Fluid Qualities of Immersion

Janet H. Murray's famous definition of immersion as the state of being plunged into a swimming pool is still the metaphorical key reference in speaking about immersion as a felt, intense experience of “being surrounded by a completely other reality.” Yet, as often as our underwater experiences are compared to immersive experiences, little has been written about what it means for conceptions of immersion that water very rarely is a static and homogeneous medium. Whether a flowing river, the sea with its currents, a waterfall, or rain, water is usually in motion. Can consequences for the theoretical understanding of immersion be drawn from this metaphorical implication?

In this chapter, we take the fluid nature of water as a starting point for a different approach to the conception of immersion. Usually, theories of immersion focus on the experienced change of the spatial environment. Based on the image of the wave, we propose that a much deeper understanding of immersion is gained by focusing instead on the way we dynamically relate to the rhythm, vibe, pace, and temporal unfolding structure of the different situations we find ourselves confronted with.

Abstract: In this chapter, the director recounts the experience of creating Intravene, an immersive experience based solely on auditory storytelling around the opioid epidemic. Coming from the perspective of some with experience in film production, this chapter offers a ground-level look at the production of an audio-only immersive experience. In so doing, it raises question about the role that auditory stimuli play in fostering a sense of immersion in audiences. It also serves as a document of the making of Intravene, as it was written during—and after—the project's production.

Keywords: immersive media production, opioid epidemic, Crackdown, Darkfield

“Episode One: Benzodope”

You put on the headphones and are asked to close your eyes. The signature Darkfield Radio bumper fades in: “Connecting… Please wait for a moment… Connecting… connecting… connecting. Darkfield Radio: no news, no music, no opinion.” There is a loud bang and the sound of water flowing. The dulcet voice of a robotic public address begins:

A weave of documentary voices sets up the theme of the episode. Garth Mullins, the Executive Producer of Crackdown, recalls when he overdosed on a combination of benzodiazepines (benzos) and opioids and had two days of his life wiped from his memory. Dean Wilson, a longtime activist with the Vancouver Area Network of Drug Users (VANDU), talks about the ever more toxic supply of street drugs and insists we should stop calling them overdose deaths, people are dying of “drug poisoning.” Martin Steward, another activist with VANDU adds: “I know more people that have died than are still alive.”

Abstract: Kent Bye has been working tirelessly over the last decade documenting the emergence of virtual reality through his Voices of VR podcast. Over hundreds of episodes and countless hours of interviews, Bye has been able to offer a glimpse at the continuing development of this nascent medium and the related technologies. Topics discussed range from festival coverage and interviews with artists to debates on ethics, privacy, and philosophy as they relate to immersive media writ large. Notably, Voices of VR serves as a snapshot of the most significant projects released in a given year, thereby serving as a living archive of projects which most people might never get to see because of ongoing issues with distribution. Voices of VR is a must-listen for anyone invested in this field, making it a priority for us to include Bye's perspective in this volume.

Keywords: extended reality, immersive media, Voices of VR, processrelational philosophy

For many avid listeners, myself included, you have become a key figure in collecting oral histories and recording the development of this nascent field of immersive media. How did you find yourself working on this topic? More specifically, what led you to undertake this work of documenting VR and immersive media?

Kent Bye (KB): Back in high school, I had an interest in working on film and media projects, but I was also very apt in STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics). Even though I initially opted to go the engineering route, my career has always straddled this dialectic between art and science.

For example, I was active in the very early phases of videoblogging (before even YouTube had launched), documenting the media's coverage of the war in Iraq for a documentary called the Echo Chamber Project. I ended up talking to a lot of journalists, which allowed me to understand what the limitations of journalism were at the time in terms of having to reduce complex events down into a story as opposed to sharing unfiltered information. That's when I started doing more podcasts. I would go to different conferences and just interview people. I found that I was able to understand what was happening within these very technical communities simply by doing over forty interviews.

Abstract: To this day, Felix & Paul Studios remain one of the most influential and celebrated players in the field of virtual reality. We spoke with Félix Lajeunesse to document the studio's history and to get his perspective on the medium, the technical developments that have shaped it, and what the future has in store for those working in this sector. The discussion not only offers a practical counterpoint to many of the theories discussed in this volume, but it also touched on the three main topics of States of Immersion Across Media: bodies, techniques, practices.

Keywords: virtual reality, immersive media production, 360-degree video, technology, immersion

Felix & Paul Studios is one the best-known names in the virtual reality space. How did you come about working with this medium? What drew you to this format?

Félix Lajeunesse (FL): It started out approximately fifteen years ago. I was working in collaboration with Paul Raphaël (co-founder of Felix & Paul Studios). We were two directors, visual artists, and friends working together doing documentaries, fiction films, commercials, and music videos. We shared a lot of creative interests and we were both fascinated by “experiential cinema”—films that we defined at the time as being more focused on the cinematic experience itself rather than on the plot (the three-act structure storytelling with plot points, turning points, and so on); films in which the narrative appears to be designed as a support for the creation of a highly immersive and sensitive cinematic experience. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968), Platform (Jia Zhangke, 2000), Tokyo Story (Yasujirō Ozu, 1953), and all the films by Apichatpong Weerasethakul are great examples of that specific approach to filmmaking. Those films all share a hypnotic, almost transcendent quality. They make you feel an inherent part of the cinematic experience, instead of making you feel like you are watching something. This experiential approach to cinema certainly inspired the way we envisioned the medium of VR initially.

At the time, we wanted to explore that approach to filmmaking through 3D stereoscopic cinema. Although 3D cinema came and went in waves of hype, and even though much of the general audience's interest in the 3D cinematic experience waned after Avatar (James Cameron, 2009), we felt that there was something more profound to unearth and explore with 3D cinema.

Behind the black boxes of algorithms promoting or adding friction to posts, technical design decisions made to affect behavior, and institutions stood up to make decisions about content online, it can be easy to lose track of the heteromation involved, the humans spreading disinformation and, on the other side, moderating or choosing not to moderate it. This can be aptly shown in the case of the spread of misinformation on WhatsApp during Brazil’s 2018 general elections. Since WhatsApp runs on a peer-to-peer architecture, there was no algorithm curating content according to the characteristics or demographics of the users, which is how filter bubbles work on Facebook. Instead, a human infrastructure was assembled to create a pro-Bolsonaro environment on WhatsApp and spread misinformation to bolster his candidacy. In this paper, we articulate the labor executed by the human infrastructure of misinformation as hetoromation.

Misinformation pervades our everyday lives, ranging from dangerous to harmless, malicious to well-intentioned. Intentional deception is a wide-reaching form of misinformation, that is sometimes harmful and sometimes socially positive or acceptable. Deception includes various behaviors that obscure the truth, mislead, or promote falsehoods. Misrepresentation, in certain instances, may be misleading or false but is normatively expected as standard practice. Thus, we ask: What aspects of deception produce different perceptions? How can community governance of misinformation adjust based on social perceptions and norms? This chapter addresses these questions, exploring governance of everyday misinformation in three Instagram domains: dating, food, and retail.