Sometimes, you play a game wrong.
I've found myself from time to time thinking of this phenomenon. I'm unsure if it's even a concept found in others — it must be, given the fallible nature of people — but it's something we might not like to admit often.
You can play a video game wrong.
When faced with playing one of the most video game video games to ever video game, I was met with abject failure.
I played the Xbox 360 version instead of any version of Doom on a computer as my first time experience.
I failed to make any sense of the map's layouts.
I failed to use the map screen to help me navigate these layouts whenever I was actually lost.
I failed to make sense of the mechanics within the game.
I failed to aim well while using my Xbox 360 controller.
I failed to live multiple, multiple times, repeating the same levels over and over again.
I failed to realize that at the end of it all, I had not truly beaten Doom, but had instead tredged and bumbled through only the first episode.
Most importantly, I failed to realize that the problems came from not only how I approached the game, but the place I decided to try out this first time experience.
Needless to say, I didn't get Doom when I first played it in 2012. After playing episode 1, I found the game unapproachable and obtuse in it's design. I presented a bold claim made solely to myself that Doom was a product of it's time, and thus, it was not for me as a person of the future.
I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.
Regardless of the quality of life features (including a jump button and mouse look aim) that were included in many thanks to the endless efforts of fans through the work of GZDoom, Doom is STILL a masterclass in design.
I liken Doom to a haunted mansion attraction. Be it from the maze-like level design, to switches activating monster closets ala traps, to the demonic and iconic enemy designs, to the many hidden passageways that the player searches for, it all takes the player by surprise. Simultaneously, the game hides the internal workings of it's tricks, making the game feel dynamic and alive to the player.
It helps too that combat is punchy, quick, and has you on the aggressive. Enemies have you dodging and weaving attacks as you pump your shells into their dumb dopey demonic faces. The real meat of your arsenal are the shotgun and mini gun, with a small variety of others that pick clean of enemies with bloody ease. Power weapons feel powerful to use, wimpy weapons still manage to keep you afloat in tough situations, with later levels making great use of testing your ability to survive an onslaught from hell with only them. All the parts of the buffalo are used for Doom, and it's stellar to see a game this early on get it so right. There's a reason Doom is consider the grand daddy of FPS games, and this is why.
There was a part where I thought this greatness faulter. From time to time, I'd find myself getting lost and taking a minute (or five) searching around for the missing piece of the level that I never made my way towards. Primarily this was solved by a quick backtrack through the level, which was relatively painless, but one of the later levels in Inferno messed with my head so much that I ended up scowering the web for a solution.
To my disappointment, the culprit was a hidden teleporter in an area I believed I thoroughly combed through dettering my progression. Unbeknownst to me in the moment though, the game had purposely locked me in this building, assuming that I would check every square inch of the walls for an exit. While I did check most of the walls, nothing had triggered, so I figured I was softlocked and decided to reload my save instead.
This felt like a small chink in the armor for the level design in the moment, but upon further reflection, once again, this was partially my fault. Needing to find a hidden teleporter in a random building on a level filled with many buildings would feel cheap if not for the game knowing to lock you in. The invisible hand of the level designers are ALWAYS there, and I, once again, failed to realize this.
Doom's genius just keeps going over my head.
This genius must also extend to the soundtrack, right? As of this moment, I'm not sure. Perhaps metal or just the """ heavily inspired"""" tracks of Metallica, Pantera and any bands that floated around the id software office around the early 90's aren't my cup of tea. Besides the more iconic tracks, the soundtrack feels like loud and noisy midi bloops that don't quite work for my special set of ears. Perhaps this'll be another element of Doom I'm just simply wrong about.
I have often found that to challenge a work considered genius by the many is often boiled down to a challenge against your own hubris in reality. Rarely is there ever a work unworthy of the praise it receives that has stood the test of times for so long. It takes self reflection, consciousness, and a pinch of honesty with one's self to admit that.
I was wrong about Doom. I was a stupid, sucky gamer boy who thought he knew better than the legends that stood before him. Doom fucking rules, and don't ever forget that.
I've found myself from time to time thinking of this phenomenon. I'm unsure if it's even a concept found in others — it must be, given the fallible nature of people — but it's something we might not like to admit often.
You can play a video game wrong.
When faced with playing one of the most video game video games to ever video game, I was met with abject failure.
I played the Xbox 360 version instead of any version of Doom on a computer as my first time experience.
I failed to make any sense of the map's layouts.
I failed to use the map screen to help me navigate these layouts whenever I was actually lost.
I failed to make sense of the mechanics within the game.
I failed to aim well while using my Xbox 360 controller.
I failed to live multiple, multiple times, repeating the same levels over and over again.
I failed to realize that at the end of it all, I had not truly beaten Doom, but had instead tredged and bumbled through only the first episode.
Most importantly, I failed to realize that the problems came from not only how I approached the game, but the place I decided to try out this first time experience.
Needless to say, I didn't get Doom when I first played it in 2012. After playing episode 1, I found the game unapproachable and obtuse in it's design. I presented a bold claim made solely to myself that Doom was a product of it's time, and thus, it was not for me as a person of the future.
I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.
Regardless of the quality of life features (including a jump button and mouse look aim) that were included in many thanks to the endless efforts of fans through the work of GZDoom, Doom is STILL a masterclass in design.
I liken Doom to a haunted mansion attraction. Be it from the maze-like level design, to switches activating monster closets ala traps, to the demonic and iconic enemy designs, to the many hidden passageways that the player searches for, it all takes the player by surprise. Simultaneously, the game hides the internal workings of it's tricks, making the game feel dynamic and alive to the player.
It helps too that combat is punchy, quick, and has you on the aggressive. Enemies have you dodging and weaving attacks as you pump your shells into their dumb dopey demonic faces. The real meat of your arsenal are the shotgun and mini gun, with a small variety of others that pick clean of enemies with bloody ease. Power weapons feel powerful to use, wimpy weapons still manage to keep you afloat in tough situations, with later levels making great use of testing your ability to survive an onslaught from hell with only them. All the parts of the buffalo are used for Doom, and it's stellar to see a game this early on get it so right. There's a reason Doom is consider the grand daddy of FPS games, and this is why.
There was a part where I thought this greatness faulter. From time to time, I'd find myself getting lost and taking a minute (or five) searching around for the missing piece of the level that I never made my way towards. Primarily this was solved by a quick backtrack through the level, which was relatively painless, but one of the later levels in Inferno messed with my head so much that I ended up scowering the web for a solution.
To my disappointment, the culprit was a hidden teleporter in an area I believed I thoroughly combed through dettering my progression. Unbeknownst to me in the moment though, the game had purposely locked me in this building, assuming that I would check every square inch of the walls for an exit. While I did check most of the walls, nothing had triggered, so I figured I was softlocked and decided to reload my save instead.
This felt like a small chink in the armor for the level design in the moment, but upon further reflection, once again, this was partially my fault. Needing to find a hidden teleporter in a random building on a level filled with many buildings would feel cheap if not for the game knowing to lock you in. The invisible hand of the level designers are ALWAYS there, and I, once again, failed to realize this.
Doom's genius just keeps going over my head.
This genius must also extend to the soundtrack, right? As of this moment, I'm not sure. Perhaps metal or just the """ heavily inspired"""" tracks of Metallica, Pantera and any bands that floated around the id software office around the early 90's aren't my cup of tea. Besides the more iconic tracks, the soundtrack feels like loud and noisy midi bloops that don't quite work for my special set of ears. Perhaps this'll be another element of Doom I'm just simply wrong about.
I have often found that to challenge a work considered genius by the many is often boiled down to a challenge against your own hubris in reality. Rarely is there ever a work unworthy of the praise it receives that has stood the test of times for so long. It takes self reflection, consciousness, and a pinch of honesty with one's self to admit that.
I was wrong about Doom. I was a stupid, sucky gamer boy who thought he knew better than the legends that stood before him. Doom fucking rules, and don't ever forget that.