I think too much. This has been the case for as long as I can remember, an unfortunate lifelong trait that fuels the train of thought endlessly careening around my head. As a working adult, playing games offers a much needed respite from the stresses and worries of the outside world, but it only does so for as long as it can hold my attention and keep extraneous thoughts from dominating my headspace.

For me then, one of the more infuriating signifiers of the modern AAA climate is a tendency of developers to intermittently take control away from the player. There's perhaps nothing more effective at breaking up a game's flow or your immersion in it than the 20th tutorial tip or an ill-timed cutscene that halts any sense of momentum; when these crop up, my focus is instantly shattered and my thoughts drift from what's on screen to what I should make for dinner, or my dog's vet appointment, or Trump's handling of the coronavirus outbreak… and so on. From this frustration I've at least gained a greater appreciation for games that don't put up any barriers preventing you from just jumping head first into the experience and making it your own.

One of Doom's defining qualities is that it mostly sets aside this form of videogame baggage—literalized in an early scene in which Doom Guy violently pushes aside a monitor that someone is spouting needless exposition from—which is honestly its own form of catharsis for me.

It becomes clear shortly after that it's all about the gameplay: a high-octane shooter in which you wield an unholy barrage of heavy weaponry to disembowel score after score of demons as you attempt to keep separate the world of living and that of hell. Or something like that—I mean does it really matter?

I've drifted away from first-person shooters as I've gotten older and many of them have similar struggles to retain my attention—too much time spent crouching behind cover, lining up the perfect shot, listening to mission briefings and so on. There's a stripped back approach to Doom which circumvents these issues, with each combat encounter providing escalating doses of adrenaline that will have you bouncing around arenas and blasting demons away without second thought. This is perhaps its most valuable asset—the speed and intensity with which fights are carried out means the only option for me is to turn big brain off and let pure instinct take over. I can't think too much or get distracted when I play Doom. I just play.

Beyond the simple beauty of that, I was taken with how many smaller pieces of the game deftly lock into place to bolster that fantastic gameplay loop. The pacing is well-tuned, as periods of traversal and optional exploration provide respite after hectic combat scenarios. Upgrades to your arsenal are surprisingly meaningful and inform the way you play the game, as you begin to intuit how certain weapons and power-ups play to your advantage against different enemy types. On top of it all is Mick Gordon's heavy metal score that gives Doom its juice (surprise bonus points go to the bits of spacey ambient that delicately underscore some quieter moments).

With the number of sequels and reboots that exist in the industry, it's refreshing to see one with an obvious level of care put behind it. While Doom is not flawless—even while the combat mostly thrilled me throughout, after some time it doesn't feel like there are any more surprises left and some fatigue can set in, among other minor quibbles—my complaints pale in comparison to how much of a pure joy the majority of the game is to experience, a callback to time of the original Doom, when fun was always at the forefront of games. I wish more developers would remember the simple power of that these days.

Reviewed on May 11, 2020


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