Fallout 4 – Pt2

A SECOND WIND REVIEW

Part two of FBT’s special edition Wasteland wander through Fallout 3. I mean 4.

*Spoilers. Not that it matters, it’s fricking obvious*

So, having been thawed out of a Vault, my suburban housewife character has not even remotely bothered to look for her son, the main plot of Fallout 4. Instead the domestic goddess blazed through the wasteland like a grizzled survivalist. Likely because she’d played Fallout 3.

While most of Fallout 4 is Fallout 3 Redux, one new addition is the ability to create a settlement; amazingly this isn’t a Bethesda money-grubbing DLC element like Skyrim’s Hearthfire, it’s part of the main game and a key element, the idea of carving out a place to call your own, of rebuilding the home you glimpsed pre-war, or building somewhere new, away from the memories of our recently lost other-half – it’s great; well, a great idea but impossibly frustrating and boring. Speaking of our beloved, the tragic parent of our child, the man I shared domesticity with only moments ago, I should look for someone new to share it with. Well, that was a long mourning period, sixty years as an ice-cube; a girl’s got needs. Companions are back and largely the same as FO3 in that they can carry stuff for you and get killed easily. I don’t need to find my kid when I’m spending so much time saving, finding, reviving and shouting at my companion. There’s a relationship angle added that’s somewhere between Mass Effect’s romance process and CJ’s girl in every city. Each companion has a selection of actions they find Hot or Not. Take Piper the spunky journalist; she’ll have the hots for you quick-sharp as she gets turned on every time you pull out a bobby pin.

It seems like a good idea and a way for you to find your true love – a companion who matches your character’s personality. In reality, it’s a real pain because many actions are necessary within the game – for example Cait hates it if you’re generous and likes you being selfish (She loves you walking around naked too, that girl’s got issues) so it becomes a question of do you alter your style to please them because you like them, or will your actions tear the two of you apart? I might be giving Bethesda too much credit for this concept, I’m not convinced that’s their intention but it’s an interesting dynamic. And oddly I had to sleep with a woman at one point to get info out of her, and my fully-confirmed partner was with me. I’m not sure what happened that night but we’re still together, yet she gets well pissy if I flirt off-script with someone. Plus, the whole idea is undermined by the perk system; each companion provides a bump in some form or other, so you just keep around whoever has a perk most useful at the time and put up with their grumbles when you do something they don’t like. The majority of the companions are quite interesting with different takes on the wasteland, and the perfect partner angle (if that’s what Bethesda were actually going for) is interesting – but the perk system removes who they are and turns them into a power-up.

Of course, the wasteland isn’t completely empty. Aside from the faction missions and the main storyline, there’s tons of mini-missions, events and radiant quests to keep you schlepping back and forth. Most are standard clear this out, find that, uncover what that is, kill that, rescue this. It can’t really go any other way, but after games like Mass Effect 3, which for all it’s faults made sure every mini-mission counted, you kinda want to see more impact. It would tie in nicely with the opening scenes of blissful suburbia if every side mission or encounter added to your settlement, either by more refugees helping or providing services; it would have been nice to return on a whim and see how it’s flourishing, and encourage you to go out and adventure more so by the end, you’ve provided and created a community, a nod to the past. But, missions are all standard and you do it for the xp. Eventually I get badass enough that a Deathclaw doesn’t terrify me, and give up questing, bored. Plus the settlement looks like a dump and everyone in it moans. Washed out of the wasteland, I might as well get this done. Why am I here again? Oh yeah, the kid.

So I follow fairly typical plotlines that lead me eventually to the dreaded Institute. Throughout, I heard stories of those guys, that they were creating androids to replace people in preparation for invading and forcing everyone out of the area. ‘Cos it’s just prime real-estate n’all. I kept thinking, why would they waste such resource and effort? I don’t know. And that’s not my infamous lack of patience, that’s the game’s muddled and unfocused plotting. The Institute itself is spotless and futuristic, why’d they want to move above-ground at all? The institute, for all their brilliance – not to mention the fact that they invented a transporter – doesn’t seem to have a clear mission statement and they have more than a passing similarity to FO4’s Steel Brotherhood; there’s a slightly distasteful fascism to both factions yet they hate each other. Still, turns out the wasteland tales are true. They are building ‘synths’ which are roaming about insinuating themselves into the colonies and townships of the wasteland. Still don’t really know why. But anyway, turns out my bundle of joy was taken for his DNA to help build human-androids for … reasons. And here he is!

My boy is all growed up and become the Father of the Institute (‘Father’ – Wow. Mom meet Son called Father. That’s deep, right? I shall call him Fatson) I feel nothing when we meet; this should be a huge moment finally finding him only to discover my boy is old, indifferent to me and has a very different world view to the one I’ve formed while out in the wilderness, but it doesn’t gel because I’ve not shared any of my pain or feelings during my trip. The game doesn’t seem to know what to do with us once we’re together. After some wooden dialogue that doesn’t explore anything, the game shuffles me off on quests with a neat little ‘We’ll talk later’. And we never do, not really, not in a way that’s rewarding given this has been Jack’s focus. All conversations are carefully manipulated to avoid any plot-spoiling or emotion; he’s in his sixties and not had a parent so his feelings towards me should be curious at best whereas I should be staggered but their scenes together are little more than standard dialogue found elsewhere in the game. My chat with the Mr Handy was more emotive than this. When a machine is happier to see me than my own son you’ve got problems.

Reuniting with Fatson is a complete let down but not an unexpected one; I don’t feel cheated because it could only ever have gone this way; I never thought the game would have the guts to kill the kid; he could have died, that would be interesting – a mid-game emotional wallop that leaves me wondering my place in this world without the focus; we could have found our descendants, imagine grandma Jack and the kids rebuilding a settlement or me eventually sacrificing myself, too far removed from this world to settle but providing something to ensure Jack Junior’s kids had a chance – Nope, standard plotting only please. Hell, it didn’t even go wide of the mark and say he’s gone but everyone in the institute is a clone of him intended to repopulate the earth and I was a clonemother. What would I do then, kill potentially hundreds of cloned grandkids I could spoil at Christmas? It just doesn’t do anything brave with what it has and I think that inevitability played a part in my reluctance to go looking for him. I didn’t want to be disappointed by a FO game. But it did it anyway, then compounded it; just before meeting Fatson, FO4 grins like it pulled a Keyser Soze-sized rug by revealing my son is the antagonist. Of course he is. You’re expecting this to create an emotional struggle, a difficult choice? Nope. Worse, that reveal is the second rug-pull in a row. In a scene ripped from a Spanish telenovela, I’d been led to believe my kid was a child still and sure enough, in the Institute, I find the child! *Cries in Spanish* But as we talk something weird happens; he … shuts down. It was a robot! *Cries in frustration* Cue Fatson briefly pretending not to be the boy before we ‘realise’. Piss off. I wasn’t shocked I was disappointed and filled with suspicion this wouldn’t be the last I’d see of the robokid. Don’t you do it FO4 …

Anyway, having been sent packing by Fatson, I wander the institute. Every scientist I meet is a bit of a prick and they’re misinformed about the surface – if only the Institute had someone available with an intimate knowledge of life in the wasteland. But they don’t just dismiss me, they don’t even have the option to ask (It’s like Bethesda realised ‘oh crap, if she tells them it’s not that bad out there, our main storyline is shot / Just don’t have the dialogue option? / Great save! Lunch?’). Their attitude towards Jack also rankles me. I’m a badass wilderness survivor, they should at least be a little nervous having someone this dangerous leaving dirt everywhere. I have a nuclear weapon strapped to my back and they’re rude? Fine that they have an ingrained dislike of surface-dwellers but I can’t change their mind and I’m really not convinced those are the guys to side with. But I go off doing the side missions to see where this takes me. And I’m surprised; it takes me right into Fatson’s chair!

More ridiculous than the whole Fatson reveal episode, within 3 or 4 missions I’m offered the big chair; that’s just unbelievable. Plus, I’ve not learnt anything new, been swayed towards their world-view or even offered a view. An entire institution of scientists capable of building robots – including robot gorillas I noticed, why? – and a transporter beam and various other brilliant technologies and the person best suited to taking over Apple is the mud-covered luddite who’s been here a day? Okay so two scientists rebel against the notion, and do so by brilliantly locking themselves in the room with the gorillas. But everyone else just comes around to the idea, especially after that whole gorilla incident. Okay so if I’m in charge now I get to change their views toward the surface – Oh, no I can’t. More ‘don’t break the storyline’ control. I can’t influence the Institute at all. FO4 has jumped the gorilla. Even if I accepted that, and I can’t, this whole event should have come early on, to give me time to warm to their ideas and ideals, but now I’ve done most of the other factions’ missions and get where they’re coming from, I don’t care about the Institute.

It also turns out my little man is the one who let me out of the vault. Why? I dunno really, he mumbles some plot-papering about knowing I’d find my way to him. How, why, what? You’ve expressed nothing but contempt for the wasteland and had the power to let me out decades ago, but you think the best idea is let your Mother wander with no direction or inkling about your status and just figured I’d rock up? And then when I do, I’d automatically side with you and – oh forget it I’m disowning you, I’ve had enough, I’m gonna go hang out with those fifties throwbacks with the shark decals on their power armour.

Like happens in the real world, this family reunion has been a disaster. Fatson and the Institute should have been introduced from the outset, especially after the revelation he let me out – It would have been a wicked game-changer to find a grown man at the house, explaining he released me and he’s about to unleash synth Armageddon on the commonwealth and wanted to rescue me first, revealing his identity. But something prevents us from returning so instead we go exploring for a way back to the Institute and along the way we both learn something; based on my actions, he sees hope or despair in the wastes, compassion or brutality – my actions are his reactions; it informs his plan once back at the Institute. Maybe he becomes compassionate and I become hardened and it’s up to him to change me. Anything but this. So much potential squandered, the generic nothingness of it makes me so angry I launch a mini-nuke and murder-suicide the two of us. This game drove me to infanticide. Or patricide I’m not sure. Had the two of us wandered together I would really have the fate of the wasteland in my hands, side missions would benefit the main quest by swaying his opinion and I’d be able to shape it as I see fit. But no, I’m caught between the usual factions and go with whichever ones I personally prefer/finished the missions for. Just like FO3, just like NV, just like most of Bethesda’s games nowadays; they’re not just reskinning the world, they’re copy/pasting the plots and missions.

This time around factions include the Steel Brotherhood, who somehow – despite the presumed world-wide shortage of everything – manage to maintain a huge airship dreadnaught (admittedly that thing arriving in the sky was a high point as was blowing it up later), or the Railway who are dedicated to freeing sentient synths (The Railway? Seriously? Let’s leave alone the grade-school level commentary on slavery). Oh and those Minutemen. I forgot about them. Literally forgot them; someone in the Steel Bros mentioned the Minutemen and I was like ‘oh yeah!’ And then there’s the Institute with their plan to do make everyone upgrade their iPhone or something. They all hate each other. I can’t unite them. Why not?! We don’t even explore the hatred which in some cases, particularly the Steel Bros vs Minutemen, doesn’t make sense.

On top of it all, Jack is the worst kind of hero – a passive one. She’s happiest wiring plugs. I play her as an absolute badass and the game makes the character a complete meh.

Another option could have been to build your own faction. FO4 would have had the capability to do that. Your settlements could have become a force in the wasteland, a new power rising with your actions dictating how it’s perceived, become the major power battling the others; Nation of Jack. That would make me more inclined to build more than a rickety shed for my settlers. Anything! Damnit!

So I go through the motions and the missions, none of which stand out and eventually I destroy the institute. It’s telling that I forget to go see my son after all that. Had I followed his storyline, more would be revealed about the Institute and it’s intent and that’s annoying; to be cheated out of a resolution because I don’t follow his ideals despite being made the Father is a further insult and eventually I forgot him as if he was a Minuteman. I guess I assumed he’d appear at the last second begging me not to do whatever I’d done, but instead, little robo-son rocks up. Now believing Jack is its Mother, robo-kid asks to be taken with. I agree, although I’d rather take a Gorilla. It would be cool if robo-kid actually turned out to be a homicidal mini-me terminator but no, it’s just that kid from A.I and a hackneyed way to give Jack her son after everything.

Once we’d escaped the explosion of the institute – which took out most of the buildings folks were living in – I wonder was there really no way to take it over and move in? That’s the only way to resolve this? In the middle of an irradiated wasteland, atomically blowing up the only safe haven for miles? And what about the poor robo-gorillas?! The Institute has exploded (helpful), the Commonwealth’s scientists are dead (helpful) and all their technology is gone (helpful), and my replacement son was nowhere to be found (helpful). I think he might have fallen off the roof we watched the explosion from. Finally, a Bethesda bug I can get behind. I’m certainly not going to look for him, one missing kid was enough and I was already aggravated the game would try to tie everything up so simply by giving me an iBoy. A happy ending? That’s not what the wasteland is, and it was never what Fallout was about. The best you could hope for was a better wasteland.

For some, the familiarity of FO4’s retread is more than enough. If you loved FO3, FO4 is just more of it and the settlement element allows you to bring some civility to the wasteland. It is beautifully detailed, involving and does what it says on the tin. For me though, FO4 was tame, safe and bland – I wanted to make more of a mark than a blast radius. As I prepare to fast-travel to the exit menu, I take a look at the landscape one last time. It’s an incredibly compelling world Bethesda created and it’s a testament to their dedication that we eventually call the wasteland home and want to better it. From up here that is. Down there in the ruins, we’ve seen it all before.

War. War never changes. Neither does Fallout it seems.

2015 | Developer Bethesda Game Studios | Publisher Bethesda Softworks

platforms; Win | PS4 | X0

Quake 4

A SECOND WIND REVIEW

This is a review of Quake 4 and FBT still spends most of it moaning about Quake.

If Doom was the Star Wars of gaming, Quake is the prequels; Everything is there, it looks great, but they’re shit rip-offs when you get down to it. Only the multiplayer saved it; and the sequel wasn’t even a sequel – it was a new IP, they just couldn’t think of a better name, which tells you everything you need to know about id by this point. Quake represents where id went wrong and I hate Quake more than the Star Wars prequels. It was a polished turd.

Nothing more than a tech company by 2004, id busied themselves sullying Doom’s legacy with Doom 3, aka ‘buy our new engine’; they off-loaded the Quake franchise to old pals Raven. I have a huge soft spot for them; besides making one of my fave Doom Clones, Heretic, they also hit both Star Trek and Star Wars out of the park with Voyager Elite Force and Jedi Knight Outcast/Academy. But I still avoided Quake 4 because it was a Doom 3 clone. More dark corridors and jump-scares? Naa. But now, a decade on and one Steam sale later, can Raven do what id couldn’t – Make a good game out of the Quake universe(s)?

With id out of the equation and good old fashioned war movies as inspiration, Q4 actually gets the job done right. A military FPS, Q4 picks up directly after Enemy Territory and Quake II – finally, some Quake Continuity. Plus, it’s single-mission driven; the first Quake game which is more than just lip-service for the multiplayer. The Strogg, an cybernetic invading force seen in Q2 has been beaten (well done Doomguy of Q2) and our hero, Kane, is deployed on their homeworld to mop up. But of course, the Strogg aren’t quite as down and out as the military thought, and soon enough we’re in a battle for our lives. It’s got a D-Day meets Starship Troopers vibe, and while it’s standard ‘get this door open’, ‘go find a medic’ orders, the missions often turn FUBAR as the Strogg push back – in Q4 it feels realistic in the way the army has misjudged Strogg forces and you get the sense we’re just being played with.

Rather than be a straight FPS with us wading through infinite Strogg, Q4 goes for the realistic approach; its a CoD-classic era tactical shooter and we’re often accompanied by other commandos, either from our squad or other regiments (Including Raven squad, complete with their logo as their patch) and they’re expendable – losing them is occasionally scripted but not always, and ending up alone can get under your skin; you suddenly feel outnumbered. Still, it’s not all on you; safe-areas where you hang with other troopers reveal missions they’re on, sorties that got their teams cut to ribbons and you pick up snippets of transmissions detailing other events; you get the sense that you’re part of a bigger mission, Q4 really tries to explore the grunt experience and seeing jets scream past in dogfights or troop carriers land or get bombed as they evac makes you think we’re all in it together. We listen to other troops discussing events from the earlier games, worry about ‘the folks back home’. It reminds me a lot of Raven’s Elite Force – no Seven of Nine though, but you can’t have everything.

The game itself has some nice epic moments to give it that war movie vibe; there’s a great moment where you help secure a landing zone for a carrier, then watch it circle and land, then climb aboard, all in one shot. While we wander the ship, it circles to the next LZ and we deploy into another battle zone. You always feel as if you’re pushing toward a goal, doing your bit to stop the Strogg.

The Strogg are basically what the Borg would be like if they assimilated the WWE. Huge cyborg mentalists, sporting the kind of dismemberment and horror that’s usually reserved for Clive Barker; even Pinhead would be like ‘that’s a bit much’ and they provide some great firefights; it’s not a case of who can pump the most bullets into the other first (although it seems to be them generally). They’re formidable. Most of the Strogg’s military is converted humans from past battles, adding a macabre element and there’s the standard gunners but also big rigs like the Harvester, a giant spider-like creature that reminds you of the striders from Half-Life – a scripted moment when one barrels towards you, legs stomping while you and your team are stuck in a corridor is awesome-scary. There’s freaks like the surgeon guys who haunt the medical bays; cut-off at the waist and hovering, they take great delight in swooping down, swinging surgical instruments, while returning from QII, the Iron Maiden has had an upgrade including the ability to teleport, going from nuisance to rocket-propelling threat. Meanwhile heavy-unit The Gladiator has to drop its shield to fire so it’s a quick-draw or run-quick. Q4’s enemies aren’t hugely original but they have some tricks up what’s left of their sleeves and while most of Q4 is close-quarter corridors, they’re nicely laid out with various ways to advance or get the upper hand if you spot them in time; the game balances slow, uneasy exploratory levels with throw-down shootouts keeping it interesting. Progressing often requires a bit of thought and backtracking, rather plodding ever-onward and there’s quite a few outdoor levels, including some vehicular action; hover tanks, exoskeletons and jumping aboard troop carriers to keep the Strogg off our tail. It is industrial in look and without doubt falls into a Doom 3 feel at times, being built on idTech 4 but it’s got some sci-fi to take the dreary edge off and Q4 quickly develops its own personality. Kane himself though is just a Doomguy; it has Doom 3’s weird ‘zoom out of his head’ cut-scenes and he’s the strong silent type, a grunt committed only to the mission – which the marines have started to lose the initiative on. Then, you lose more than that.

Roughly mid-way through, it’s all on you as you reach the final button that’ll stop the Strogg. Yeah, that room isn’t clearly set up for a boss battle is it. But it’s worse than that. What follows is a grotesque trip as Kane is ripped and rendered for Stroggification. At the last second, we’re saved by our squad but a glance in the mirror suggests we’d need more than an analgesic cream to clear that up. Ever stoic, Kane seems largely untraumatized after being buzzsawed to pieces and his head cracked open. While conscious. Without anaesthetic. Man, even Doomguy looked perturbed when he lost most of his health in one shot, but Kane doesn’t even blink when he loses most of his limbs. He doesn’t even check if little Kane is still there.

Once Kane escapes, he’s Robocop with a missile launcher. Faster, meaner, a better shot and you can hear the Strogg talking and interact with their equipment now. It feels like the game just changed, but not enough. Everyone bangs on about Kane now being the army’s most important asset but we’re back to getting doors open and babysitting. It should drastically alter the game but it falls into standard shooter tropes – even his squaddies are largely unfazed by their old pal looking like the enemy. It could have gone in all sorts of ways; Kane cast out to go it alone, or hunted by his own squad, or even have him completely assimilated and turn on his pals – Kane could have been biblical reference (sort of) so to have him start killing his bros would have been sick. At least have him turn into an infiltration soldier, walking the Strogg areas without threat as you try to bring down defences, see how far you can get before that itchy trigger-finger gets too much. It could have gone anywhere but it just keeps going until it becomes standard shooter fare. It just doesn’t alter the gameplay drastically enough considering what we just watched him go through. He’s just Doomguy on Steroids and doesn’t quite feel as key to the mission as everyone bangs on about; it’s all down to Super-Kane in the end, and it’s a good ending with a nice question-mark final shot, and it works, but it feels a little bit of a missed opportunity.

Stroggification disappointment aside, Q4 is a cracking shooter. It’s a real good’un. You feel like John Wayne in some 1940s war movie or western; Q4 holds up as a shooter from a period where all gamers banged on about was Half Life 2 – like Prey (the 2006 version) which this often reminds you of, Q4 has some great moments and it deserves to be played; it’s more than another Quake sequel built on Doom. It’s the Rogue One of the Star Wars movies.

Raven software; always the bridesmaid never the bride, most of their successes have come from playing in someone else’s sandbox; their early games were built with id (ShadowCaster ran on an id engine, Romero exec-produced the Heretic series), while their best games, Elite Force and Jedi Knight were fan-fave franchise licences; besides Quake they also rebooted Wolfenstein and then produced a shooter based on the magazine for gun-lovers, Soldier of Fortune, which is as odd as it was ultra-violent. Then they contracted with Marvel for a series of X-Men games. Everything Raven touches is a solid, likeable game – and in the case of Jedi Outcast, an absolute classic – yet they never had an in-house property; their most recent attempt, Singularity failed and now they just churn out Call of Duty DLC. They deserve better, and it’s a shame Raven got bought by Activision; if only id bought them instead – as each id engine evolved, their games devolved. Raven’s developer genius built on id’s technical genius could have staved both off from being bought out by the kind of soulless companies they once rallied against. Just think what Doom 3 could have been; The Doom Awakens.

2005 | Developer Raven Software | Publisher Activision

platforms; win | X360

Doom, Clones & Killers Pt4

Finally, FBT reaches the end of his quest to find the Doom Killer. Or does he?

Let’s hope so, he’s not doing a part five.

Part Four: Black Mesa Inbound

By now the vultures are circling, watching as Doom breathes it’s last. It’s faced inventories, 3D, character classes, cut-scenes and storylines. Sacrilege. It’s been backstabbed by Quake, bullied by Build and had strips ripped off it by clone after clone. Yet it’s not only survived, Doom’s seen off all pretenders – even LucasArts no less. Doom keeps on killing it – and while 1997’s games have done everything they can to topple it, we’re yet to play a PC game that stands on its own. And that’s because we didn’t have an N64.

Shooter. First Person, Shooter; GoldenEye 007 (Aug 1997) is further away from Doom than any FPS so far; it was a huge leap and is the Doom killer. But it’s let off on a technicality; being N64-only limited Goldeneye’s chances of influencing the FPS genre the way Doom did – PC was safe in its vacuum. But, N64 players got a taste of the future. It seems every genre was stepping up; behind the wheel we had Carmageddon, Gran Turismo and Grand Theft Auto, f fight!-fans were about to get Tekken 3, RPG had the first Fallout and Lara was back in the seminal Tomb Raider II. The most amazing thing about the 1996-97 period is how many of those franchises continue today. Midsomer Murders premiered in 1997 and even that’s still on, what happened to Doom?

While the N64 was changing everything, all we in PC-Land had were sequels. Hexen II (Aug 1997) continues to move further away from Heretic – this time we have 4 classes and a sort of XP system; but as I replay Quake-powered HII I realise Quake was even more boring than I thought. While it has some stuff going on (sheep on catapults for one thing) HII actually looks and plays just like Quake; it’s an incredibly restrictive engine – Here is the world id have provided; play through it quietly, please. Hexen II might be fantasy-based, but it’s striking how distant it all feels after Build’s close-quarter world. But it’s not just the environment. Quake is like Dad’s Army to N64’s Bond; nonthreatening, almost comfortable. This is depressing. No mayhem, no trouble, no edge or dirt to it; Where’s the energy, the risk, the breathless deathrun for the exit? Hexen II does look good, and feels good but it never gets going and it’s hard to keep going, it’s all so flatline constant. At the risk of labouring the point, I would have loved to see it in the Build engine. Yes, I am blaming Quake for Hexen II. If it had been built in a more fluid, freeing engine, it might have been a lot more involving. I’m also blaming Quake for something worse; indifference – after Quake, FPS became more than what we’d settled for. We could forgive Doom for its simplicity because it was so raucous, but Quake’s lack of heart exposed that simplicity without stepping up the mayhem and it’s made FPS meh. Quake is so horrific it ruined Heretic too. Maybe Quake killed Doom by embarrassment. God, I hate Quake.

Luckily, the other sequel we got in 1997 was closer to Goldeneye than Quake; Star Wars Dark Forces II: Jedi Knight: (Sept 1997). Proving how far the FPS genre has come, JK is miles away from Dark Forces and therefore, Doom. There’s a cracking plot; Kyle Katarn, the arm we played in DF is on the hunt for his father’s murderer. Along the way he discovers he can use a lightsaber and that dark forces are looking for a place that focuses force powers. As we shoot and saber our way through every Star Wars reference, Kyle gains force powers and wrestles with revenge vs the Jedi path; and how we wrestle dictates the ending. The plot, much like Blood is told through cutscenes but this time they’re in glorious FMV, complete with panto actors having no idea what they’re doing, fuzzy rotoscoping and cheesy dialogue only George Lucas could approve. It’s an incredibly good game, epic yet focused with good shootouts and set-pieces; it’s as close as a PC gamer is going to get to Goldeneye, and the furthest we’ve gotten from Doom so far; a story, choices, subtle advancements and technically dual-wielding with weapons and force-powers – this is good. It has aged, the force-powers are clunky, the lightsaber is just button-mashing, it’s blocky to the point of being blinding and the FMV is hilarious, but it sets a new bar. All we need now is for id to lower it again.

Quake II (December 1997). This is a new id engine so I’m going to give id the benefit of the doubt and assume they loosened some of Quake’s vacuum-sealed grip and really put us in the boots of whoever the hell the Quake character is; it does actually have a storyline, so I’m sensing a change in the air. Is id actually going to kill Doom?

The oddest thing about Quake II is it has nothing to do with Quake. It’s rumoured QII wasn’t even a Quake game during development, id just couldn’t come up with a better name. Just how unimaginative were id by this point? Quake II is set in a sci-fi environment where a Space Marine named Bitterman (Bitterman would have made a better title) is split up from his company when they’re deployed on the home-world of the Strogg, an invading force attempting to take over earth. A blazing opening scene sets the story in motion, unlike anything we’ve experienced before and exactly what I was looking for. This is epic, against the odds stuff! Finally, a war-movie shooter; tight, claustrophobic, brutal … wait. Goddamnit. The game is nothing like the setup; no desperation, no frantic firefights, no overwhelming odds, no ‘oh shit’ moments. The corridors are better looking than before, and the bad guys move with a fluidity we’ve not seen before, but it’s plain, straight shooting. QII doesn’t add anything to the experience, there’s nothing wild or unexpected; Bitterman is Doomguy with a name tag and while being more cohesive than Quake, having a singular forward-pushing level design, against Goldeneye and Dark Forces II, QII offers nothing; it’s a throwback on a shinier engine. It was hailed on release, but again that’s just the Multiplayer talking; at first I thought id were timid – unwilling to step away from their comfort zone, but no more excuses; QII, actually, is arrogant. id – you thought this would do? At least Doom II turned it up to 11, made you work for it; this is just filler. That’s it. id, you’re dead to me.

So that was 1997, a year where IBM’s Deep Blue beat chess master Kasparov. Afterwards he claimed the machine made imaginative moves, implying human interference but considering IBM dismantled Deep Blue immediately, I think it become self-aware and they shut it down before it could launch missiles against Russia. They should have given Deep Blue a job at id.

Once, someone (me) likened id to Nirvana and said Doom was their Nevermind. Now they’re corporate MOR, the kind of thing you’d find on Jeremy Clarkson’s Driving Anthems CD, given away free with the Daily Express. But thankfully, we had our Foo Fighters; Epic. Unreal (April 1998) follows JKDF II’s form and gave PC gamers their Goldeneye. This could be the Doom killer – just when I thought Doom died of old age.

You play an unnamed prisoner enroute to space-jail when the ship crashes, leaving you the sole survivor with a legion of baddies between you and freedom – but there’s another layer; the planet’s peaceful inhabitants are subjugated by the baddies, forcing them to mine a valuable ore abundant on their planet. Our hero fights through the invaders as per standard, but saves the locals in the process. Or not. As an escaped prisoner, it’s your (moral) choice.

Unreal seems to understand what’s been missing; it draws you in as much as you draw your pistol; this is a FPS that feels exciting but rather than Doom’s pure ‘oh shit’ mentality, you’re playing with a sense of curiosity and against a subtle threat. This is the most compelling world we’ve seen yet. You feel like you’re on an alien planet; it’s full of odd, weird but logical things, spread across a world you progress through. Diaries and notes left by the aliens and other survivors fill in the background of a world filled with puzzles, interaction and situations – Unreal gives you an exploratory feel as you find your way, and how you make your way is dictated by various power-ups and improvements you can make to yourself. Helping the aliens feels good, not just level-up friendly, while the slavers are brutal and varied enough to keep things interesting. It looks dated of course, but you don’t notice; you have a world to save. This is how it’s done; Unreal is real. But did it kill Doom?

Unreal wasn’t a Doom killer, it was an id killer. They never recovered after being roundly punched off their pedestal. Instead of striking back with something new, they dropped all pretence and returned with Quake III – as multiplayer only. They’re going backwards. But Epic were ready for them. Unreal Tournament and Quake III battered each other Oasis vs Blur style but that was the beginning of the end for id. Carmack once dismissed the Unreal engine with “you’re just never as big when you’re second in line”, and I could just end on that quote, leaving it to linger like a Redneck fart, but I can’t let it go; what did id do to justify their first-in-line status? Doom 3. Like I said, backwards.

Meanwhile, Epic’s Unreal engine became the industry standard, powering not only hundreds of games, but exploited in non-game applications too; the FBI use it for crime scene training and the US Army for IED defusing tactics. It’s been used in Hollywood for pre-vis work (by Spielberg amongst others) and it did real-time, on-set rendering of ‘Kay-Tuesso’ on Star Wars Rogue One. And it generated the virtual sets on Lazy Town; now that’s cool. id? id who? You mean the guys who followed Doom 3 with … Doom 3 remastered? Then Rage, aka Doom in the Desert? Least they came up with a new title. Then followed that with … Doom 4 – which was so bad it didn’t even get a release. id, get second in line.

There’s no denying id’s influence. They are gods. Carmack changed the world with his engines, but game wise, id couldn’t even get cloning right; the King of Clones, Call of Duty has been punting out a reskin for nine games in a row yet it’s huge, primarily for the multiplayer – which id pioneered. Somehow, id forgot how to game.

Knowing what’s coming, Unreal could be argued as the new Wolfenstein. Which makes SiN (Oct 1998) Blake Stone … Set in some not too distant future, our beefy hero, Blade (the last of the classic era hero names) is head of some security firm investigating a super drug which turns folks into mutants. The Sinclaire Megacorp, headed by the unnaturally sexy Elexis Sinclaire is behind it so Blade shoots through various locations to find her and the antidote.

Elexis is one of those characters you’re not quite sure how to take. Either a parody of sexism or just an incredibly sexist fantasy figure, she’s Jessica Rabbit meets Anna Nicole Smith at a Motley Crewe video shoot; so sexualised it’s difficult to watch without blushing. But she has her smarts. It’s a shame SiN didn’t do better, let us *ehem* explore her further as Elexis is not only a great boob-hiss villain, but has the opportunity to be a parody or celebration of feminism or sexism; the ending, a nod to Basic Instinct’s favourite moment is amusingly intercut with Blades utterly transfixed face; female empowerment using physicality to manipulate the male sex-driven psyche or just smut? I dunno, I’m gonna play it again to be sure – and there is a hidden scene where you catch Elexis masturbating in a hot tub. Not sure that helps the satire argument. Thank god we’re not playing as Lo-Wang.

Problem is, Blade’s world is as under-developed as Elexis isn’t. The AI, once out of scripted moments is idiotic and the level designs are hugely lacking, sparse and unfocused; you wander rather than push forward and worst of all, we’re playing someone we’ve already played; Blade is a muscled tough-guy with a dislike for orders and a huge weapon compensating for something; but unlike Duke, Blade is a strictly straight-to-video star; I’ve never played a game where the hero is so completely upstaged by the villain – I’d rather be working for Elexis.

There are some advances to be fair. Blade is also aided by a hacker called JC who works nicely to set the scenes, damage you deal relates to the body-part you hit, there’s a (not very good) interactive computer element, tons of destructive environments and some hairy non-linear moments; choices can make later events easy or a right pain.

SiN could have worked as a satire/throwback had it been a bit more polished, but what really sinks SiN is it just wasn’t quite ready to leave behind classic FPS; sticking to the kind of stuff that would amuse Lo-Wang is half its downfall – the other half was life; SiN was rushed to beat Half-Life to the shelves, and suffers for it.

With Unreal and Goldeneye out there, you can see exactly what needs to happen to deliver the killing blow, and SiN misses the mark. I’m kinda sad about it really, there is a game to be had, but it’s frustratingly out of reach. SiN did manage a not-quite sequel; intended to be split across DLC episodes, Emergence was the only one released and that showed some promise, a nice mix between solid gunplay and Elexis in a bikini.

Just coming in under the wire, the original clone closes out the era. Heretic II (Oct 1998) deserves a mention just because I love Heretic. HII gives our Heretic arm an entire body called Corvus (The genus for Ravens, geddit?) and puts him on the hunt to cure a plague that’s turned everyone conveniently into targets. Built on the Quake II engine and looking pristine yet vacant as only the Quake II engine can, HII isn’t remotely connected to Heretic OG; Ovum spell returns though. Still a classic. Rather than being a Doom Clone, HII is a Tomb Raider clone, an action-adventure-puzzler. In fact, Heretic II doesn’t even belong in a FPS review – it’s 3rd person for a start but I couldn’t miss an excuse to play in Heretic again. Raven, give up the CoD grunt work. I’ll even play Singularity if it helps.

And then, Valve released a game that during early demos, was as seen as an ego-piece. What was this Microsoft Millionaire Gage Newell doing, playing in our shooter sandbox? Stick to MS Minesweeper, leave the gaming to id. But somehow, Valve’s Half-Life (Nov 1998) got it exactly right; instead of a killing machine we were an unwilling lead – a scientist, a geek, one of us, finding a way out of this mess unlike every other shooter where you were looking for a way in. I’m no scientist but career choices don’t matter when there’s headcrabs on the loose. The story was as simple as it was effective; our science project goes wrong, opening portals from which all manner of nasties spill out. Armed with a crowbar, Gordon Freeman (Gordon; even the name is normal. No Duke or Blade here) begins a brilliant trek through the lab to get help, aided by less-able scientists and security guards all called Barney. Meanwhile, the army are making their way in, making sure we don’t escape and tell id this is how you make a next-gen shooter. Freaky creatures, a mysterious G-Man watching our progress, great AI from the soldiers, Half-Life is perfect start to near finish (The ending in Xen still grates) and despite Gordo being silent, you develop a strong desire to get him out of this mess. We’re invested. Best thing is, Half-Life was built on a jury-rigged Quake engine. This could have been id, they could have killed Doom. After Goldeneye, Jedi Knight and Unreal, Half-Life ironed out all the kinks and with SiN proving old-school is out, Half-Life’s wasn’t the exception; this was the standard. Doom doesn’t come to mind once.

Doom; 1993-1998 RIP

What a decade that was. It wasn’t the 60s – it was better. The 60s, the decade of change? Everything and anyone that was a vanguard of change got shot. The Sixties as an idea for the future failed. The nineties saw huge disruption in music, movies, art and gaming, plus changes in politics, equality and society that no decade has been able to top – Plus the nineties gave birth to the internet. Top that yer hippies.

As I mourn for Doom I realise now it couldn’t have gone any other way; I began this journey on the hunt for where it all went wrong, where FPS drifted from Doom’s pure experience but what went wrong was us; we killed Doom, the moment we deathmatched – once we were into Quake’s reign, and Deathmatch went Online, Multiplayer became the driver and the single player mode was just offline mode. It took Half-Life to convince us to save the day not the flag. Turns out I killed Doom?

There’s some who argue that Doom’s influence and impact is overstated, that it’s innovations would have happened naturally. I’m guessing they never played Doom in 1993. Its brilliance wasn’t the technical leaps, it was id’s capturing excitement and turning it into pixels; that joy is missing from games now and that came from a mutual understanding; the developers and gamers never met but we were mates – all those games I played; there’s love in every pixel programmed and we loved every pixel we played. That’s why Doom was incendiary, why it’s one of the best games of all time. Nowadays, I don’t imagine a developer I’d have a beer with, I see corporate nonsense; marketing, research. Games like Doom and it’s Clones are gone forever; gaming is worth over 90 billion dollars a year (compared to Hollywood’s 40 billion) and the mega-corps that run those empires don’t take chances. Those publishers wouldn’t have given Doom a second look.

But maybe, with GOG.com’s commitment to indie titles and Steam’s Greenlight, the Shareware era isn’t over. One day another Doom may slip by and make us go ‘the fuck just happened’. Until then, we still have Duke, Doomguy, Caleb and all the other arms sticking out the bottom of the screen. Come get some.

Train Simulator

A SECOND WIND REVIEW

FBT got Train Simulator from Secret Santa. All you had to do was follow the damn train, FBT.

Secret Santa. The frustration of trying to work out who in the hell Barbra is. Getting the guy who no one knows what they’re into. Or getting the boss. Then opening the tat you were given, realising no one at work knows you – or worse, something so on-the-nose they know you too well. This year I got Train Simulator: London to Brighton – my daily commute. I guess all I talk about in the office is gaming and Southern Fail. Well played Barbra.

I’ve always avoided those games like a plague sim. I don’t understand why anyone would want to play something real. I get realism, but I game to be better than I am in the real world (and avoid it); why would I spend my free time doing someone else’s job? I can’t imagine a worse game to play. But … I have suffered at the hands of Southern Rail for a decade now; I know the announcements, the excuses, the world-weary sigh in the conductor’s – sorry, On-Board Supervisor’s voice as they announce the train is no longer in service. I am a Southern Fail ninja, leaping from platform to platform, hopping trains as the service crashes to its knees at the sight of a falling leaf. I’ve been cancelled, delayed, abandoned at places I’ve never heard of. I’ve missed connecting trains, parties, birthdays, films, gigs, restaurant bookings. I can’t plan anything when Southern are involved; my homepage is their delay-repay. I have a “I survived the Southern strikes” t-shirt. Southern is so bad they have to be some sort of Government sociological test like MK Ultra or the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment. To actually spend free time playing as Southern is an insult, like the FIVE THOUSAND POUNDS A YEAR I PAY FOR THE PRIVILEGE OF TRAVELLING ON – And yet … what I have here is a chance to prove Southern can’t run a rail network; that it is as easy as it looks. I was once delayed for a total of 48 hours over a single month; enough to claim I was a missing person.

I am instantly in the mindset of Southern; I have no idea what I’m doing. There’s a HUD and the actual controls, but once past the tutorial (okay, I may have skipped most of the tutorial) and realising I can’t re-bind the keys, Driver FBT is just pressing everything to see what happens. Ohh train whistle! Toot Toot! I got this. I find the button to change view and lean out the window. The platform is basic, and there’s nowhere near the number of passengers usually at Victoria; aggravated commuters mixed with flight-missing tourists who have no idea what “cancelled due to train displacement” means. It’s a fairly accurate representation of Victoria though, even down to the lack of platform staff or helpful info. My train is announced and my passengers saunter up to the doors; boarding a Southern train is usually like a scene from World War Z but here they hang around passively. Oh yeah, the doors. Which key is it? One Google later and I have it. It’s the T key. Not D for doors. This being Southern I expected it to be C for ‘Cattle’ or some other C word. I check in on the passengers. There’s seats to spare! This isn’t realistic of Southern at all. Normally you’re so crushed together someone’s pregnant by Three Bridges. After lots of knob twiddling and pressing things, we rumble out the station. We’re off!

Southern commuters have a Bingo game; will it be congestion, ‘overrunning engineering works’, an ‘earlier incident’, ‘operator error’, a vague ‘disruption’ or the dog-ate-my-homework classic, ‘signal failure’? Yesterday it was the two-year-old announcement of Temporary Staff Shortages. Not on this train buster, this train will not be delayed. Even if it briefly starts going backwards and I get an emergency break alert. All right, we all make mistakes. Or ‘Operator Error’ as it’s called. So that’s what that means. Scary stuff. This game is giving me Siderodromophobia. AKA Southernphobia.

The game does reconstruct the journey incredibly well; the view from the windows is spot on, although it’s very 2002 graphically – fitting, that’s the last time Southern had a train on time. I’m kidding; they never had a train on time. I wonder if my real fellow passengers are confused by my laptop screen showing their commute – nope, they have the same listless, thousand-yard stare of my digital passengers; this is your life, and it’s ending one Southern delay at a time. Developers Dovetail Games got the Southern experience spot on.

My real train is delayed because we’re behind a ‘stopping service’. I on the other hand am blasting through the route. I’m ahead of myself. Wait, was I supposed to stop at Clapham? I hunt for a skip mission or speed up button, but this is real life. Real time. Real boring. There’s nothing to do. Oh East Croydon! As I slow down I realise it’s not going to happen. We screech past and I’m warned I’ve missed a station. Minutes later, while searching for the button to turn on the lights I run a red signal; Another Operator Fail – I’m fired. The union takes up my case, the whole network goes on strike. I’m reinstated. Bless the Union.

After several more operator errors, including trying to back the train up after I miss East Croydon again (it creeps up on you), I’m still determined to get to Brighton. I realise this is the first gaming experience where I have to behave and that’s hard to do, but after a while I start to get into it; there are challenges, there’s a lot to being a driver. Actually, there isn’t, the biggest challenge is not mucking about. Really, it’s stop in time and stay within the speed limit – which is interesting; on Southern’s Brighton route you get bounced about so much it’s like being on the Vomit Comet; I have gone Zero-G around Hayward’s Heath, but they insist it’s within speed limits; I was told not to sit ‘over the wheels’ if I wanted a comfier ride. What the hell kind of advice is that?! But here, whenever I get above 80 the train lurches and I get a speed warning. Suspect. I trust a computer game more than Southern.

“‘Do not lean out of the window’. I wonder why?”

It’s fair to say that some of my befuddlement and red-light running is caused by the confusing controls; at times it’s maddening. I spent most of the time with my head stuck out the window like a dog. V is for Window Wipers; what was wrong with W? But, ignoring the messy control system and basic design, Train Sim is surprisingly realistic – except the toilets, where I find a fully clothed man sat on the loo; weird – like any of the toilets work on Southern. But it’s strangely compelling, after a while I find myself totally into it; it becomes a point of pride to hit the stations bang on time, keep on schedule. Once I’m out of the city and barrelling along I enjoy myself. It’s not fun in the traditional gaming sense and I’m not a sim convert – I still try to crash it and misbehave, closing the doors before the passengers can board, but that’s me gaining a Southern attitude, not the GTA in me – when I reach Brighton I honestly feel like I accomplished something. I’m weirdly proud to watch my passengers disembark, headed for the heavily guarded ‘Meet The Manager’ stall. Some of that enjoyment might be down to the familiarity of the route, and the fact that unlike Southern, I actually want to get me home.

Dovetail could have made a Sim based purely on Southern’s management; choosing when to blame Network Rail or Thameslink, timing cancelling a service just after the next one leaves, or once it’s full, claiming it was wrong kind of rain on the track, or the wrong kind of track, last minute alterations, diverting trains, not assigning a driver, sending people to the wrong platform; as a Southern Sim it would be more realistic to stop passengers reaching their destination, but Train Sim isn’t a Passenger sim, it’s genuinely trying to give you the train driver experience. It may be a budget game, but there’s a lot of options, including events that cause changes to the route, weather, seasons, journey options and trains other than Southern’s Cattlecarts, as well as challenges and an editor.

I appreciate what Sims do now; the same as any other game – let people experience something they admire or may never get to do in the real world. For some, that’s driving a train not beating a Boss. I did get a train from London to Brighton and it wasn’t delayed. It really isn’t that hard Southern. I actually learnt a thing or two about trains, tracks and train management too; I’ll be using those in my next Delay Repay claim. Thanks Barbra.

2015 | Developer, Dovetail Games | Publisher Dovetail Games

Platforms; Win

Dark Forces Jedi Knight

A Blast from the Past review

FBT remembers playing on the carpet with plastic toys.

The Past

The Star Wars Dark Forces/Jedi Knight series might be my favourite franchise of all time. Unlike most series’, JK just got better as it went; Dark Forces might have been just a Doom clone and Jedi Knight a serviceable shooter with some cringey FMV, but Jedi Outcast was a tour-de-force; a solid FPS with a brilliant story, great villain (a T-Rex with a lightsaber, come on!), lightsaber battles and force-powers turned up to 11. I recall realising I’d largely stopped using blasters and thermal detonators and was prancing about like a fully-fledged Jedi. The final entry, Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy was a little more uneven, dropping series regular Kyle Katarn for a Padawan sent on milk-runs, but the Lightsaber had been perfected. DF/JK knew what SW meant to you as a kid, playing as either Luke or Han – the series let you be both, it was childhood re-enactments come to digital life (dictated by which toys you got for Christmas. Still waiting on that Death Star with working trash compactor, Santa).

The JK series also pioneered moral choices; it was up to you how light or dark you became but it wasn’t sign-posted. You only found out after each level how light or dark you’d been, and each game refreshed and refined your descent or ascent. I always wound up being a goody goody, but Emperor Katarn had a ring to it … even if the next game always assumed you’d followed the Light path. Going back to replay them all has Blast(er) written all over it. May the fond memories be with us.

Still a Blast?

The rumour was that Dark Forces began when Lucas heard about the Doom mod StarDoom, and saw a chance at even more of our pocket-money. Lucasarts were ordered to reverse-engineer Doom and the result was Star Wars Dark Forces (1995).

Kyle Katarn, an ex-Empire officer turned Han Solo stan, is hired to recover the Death Star plans then discover the truth behind the rumours of ‘Dark Troopers’, shooting his way through various movie and extended universe (sorry, Legends) locations. It’s a standard Doom era experience, and while there’s some improvements over Doom that’s not what we want. I don’t care I can look up or down, I care that I’m not terrified, exhilarated. I do feel Star Wars-ey but I’m jonesing for Doom or Duke – it feels like a kid’s game; Doom was shared around the playground like rumours about the Faces of Death video – Dark Forces is clean, safe and your parents would approve; no demons or bleeding Imp anuses in sight.

Besides the blandness in attitude, DF is a bland game to look at for the most part. It’s very muted, claustrophobic and blocky as hell. Whereas Doom, Blood or Duke work well enough to see past the bad graphics and basic controls, DF isn’t Star Wars enough or Doom enough to get past how bloodlessly derivative it is. It tries to be Star Wars, giving us digitised clips from the movies, but once we’re past the kind of cut scenes that make you want to replay Monkey Island, its back to FPS-lite; it feels designed by someone who’s played Doom, but didn’t get Doom. By not being SW or Doom, it winds up being a bit nothing, trading on my memories of Star Wars as a kid – if it had set on a 1970s carpet it would have been a classic.

The series isn’t off to the best start and while I wasn’t expecting much, I expected more than this. Up next though is where things got real. Like FMV real.

Thankfully, DF was a huge success and Lucasarts listened to the fan feedback, dumping the Doom-cloning and let the series find its own voice. Dark Forces II: Jedi Knight (1997) gave us what we wanted and FMV, which we didn’t. Fantastic in principle, Full Motion Video was intended to side-step the still basic graphics of the era, replace them with real actors. It was shocking, like 80s 3D bad and the problems weren’t just down to how they worked within video games – the budget, acting and scenes were classic Acorn Antiques; nowadays actors are used to being convincing during a greenscreen scene but back then, their lack of faith was disturbing. No even Lucasarts could crack it and it drains most of the drama when you’re watching actors looking slightly off-centre.

Our villain, Dark Jedi Jerec (who would be chewing scenery if there were any) murdered Kyle’s Pa while searching for the lost Valley of the Jedi, hoping it’ll imbue him with enough force power to kickstart the Empire (while Dark Forces was pre-Star Wars, the Jedi Knight series was Post-Jedi, no idea what Kyle got up to during those years). Kyle discovers he has force powers and must balance his new-found abilities with his desire for revenge.

JK is actually a cracking FPS. Way better than I remembered. I’d avoided it in favour of Jedi Outcast on replays, but I missed out. The first third is largely battling the extras from the Mos Eisley cantina, and no longer constrained by DF’s flat maze-runs, the levels are complex, with a huge amount of height and depth – scum and villainy are everywhere, alongside peaceful NCPs. We’re running through cities, cantinas, space-ports, warehouses; then later racing across parapets while tie-bombers take off, dealing with Stormtroopers, Officers, Interrogation and Probe droids in Imperial Bases with patrolling AT-ST. Some areas do drag, like Kyle’s family home which is largely platforming while being harassed by giant mozzies, and later levels aboard a Star Destroyer fall into linear run n’ gun, but for the most part, JKDFII is exactly what we want from a SW shooter – it’s perfectly balanced, ramping up the difficultly yet maintains the sheer fun of being in Star Wars. It’s great how purely exciting a twenty-year-old game can still be; CoD WWII takes up an eye-watering 90gb of disk space; JK is … 730mb and it’s 100 times a more enthralling, involving experience; volumetric dynamic shading whatevers don’t matter when you have a trusty blaster at your side, kid. And we had more than that this time.

The biggest change is the lightsaber. While it makes short work of the stormtroopers you are leaving yourself open; Kyle can deflect the occasional laser bolt but getting close enough to a Stormtrooper to cut him down usually means sacrificing your shield and since they’re rarely alone, it’s a dangerous tactic. Realistically, the saber is only for Jerec’s mini bosses and you’ll need more than a Lightsaber to take them out. You need the patience of a Yoda.

After a FMV cutscene hyping the mini-boss, we’re into a stand-off; who can button-mash the most. It’s not quite the balletic parry-riposte you’d hope for, besting the Dark Jedi is luck – but in my experience there’s no such thing as luck. Just a lot of reloading. But they’re all pretty cool opponents, using force powers as well as sabers and a standout is a MasterBlaster-like duo that’s harder than fighting with the blast shield down. Alongside the lightsaber, the force powers are also a little clunky; you have to chose to use force jump for example, but it’s not long before you’re force choking Stormtroopers, pulling their weapons away or shoving them about. Of course, all the fun stuff comes at a price.

Using dark Jedi powers increases your leaning toward the Dark side while not attacking NCPs and using light side powers keeps things Light. It’s a well done dynamic and the dark side is indeed quicker, easier. It’s inevitable that the more destructive powers are the ones you use the most, this is a shooter after all – no one’s going to use the Jedi mindtrick when you have force lightning at your fingertips and to be fair, the game focuses more on the consciously good/bad things Kyle does to decide if you’re Luke or Anakin. A meter at the end of each level tells you which way Kyle is leaning but no hint what caused it; it a really nice way of leaving it up to you to figure out.

For all its the distracting FMV panto, basic force use, wonky Lightsaber and age, you’re completely swept up in Kyle’s vengeance vs becoming a Jedi. When his choice comes, it’s Kyle’s not yours and the repercussions are pretty extreme; it’s worth a replay just to see how good/bad Kyle gets. It may look old and creaky, but all this bickering is pointless; JKDFII is a classic, and even better than I remembered.

Not long after JK, Lucasarts released Mysteries of the Sith (1998). The first quarter follows Kyle, now training fan favourite Mara Jade. When Kyle disappears while investigating a new Dark Side threat, Mara abandons her Jedi chores and sets out to discover her teacher’s fate.

I only played MotS once, having nicked it off a mate who nicked it back. But now I realise I should have bought it (Or hidden my mate’s copy better); MotS is a great, tightly-wound little Add-On and as much fun as JKDFII. It’s the same build and look but the best thing is what’s missing – no FMV this time. Instead, Kyle and co are animated and while it really shows the game’s age, MotS is cleaner and more detailed than JKDFII.

Mara gains additional weapons, including one that fires Carbonite with mixed results and a sniper scope, and she faces off against more nerfherders than Kyle did, including a Rancor. She has essentially the same Lightsaber and Force abilities and they’re more critical this time, but not a light vs dark path which is a shame; Mara originated in the Zahn series as an Empire Spec Ops looking to avenge the Emperor so she’d have been perfect for Dark side swaying.

One random thing that stops MotS being brilliant is the feet-tapping. It wasn’t this noticeable in JKDFII but it seems Kyle and Mara have a one-foot stride and wear tap-shoes. All you can hear is ‘tippy tappy tippy tappy’ and it’s so distracting I constantly jumped to avoid their feet on the floor – but instead you get ‘guh, huh, gah’ every leap; even when drowning they’re being dramatic, choking is a gurgle mixed with swallowing followed by throat clearing. Audio annoyances aside, MotS is a solid if dated game and there’s more than a few well-pitched levels – including a series-standout where Mara faces herself in a Dagobah-style greatest fear test. MotS can sit comfortably alongside the main games, not just as an Add-On. I’m really happy to honestly own MotS, it’s a great little game.

Star Wars Jedi Knight II: Jedi Outcast (2002)

The gloves were off with Outcast. Before I even load it up I’m excited, refusing to even consider it might not have aged well or not be as good as I remember. This is one of my all-time greats. Come on Kyle old buddy, don’t let me down.

Kyle has renounced the Jedi way and returned to his Han Solo cosplaying, doing Senate odd-jobs with pilot-pal Jan. They uncover a new Empire-like force, the Remnant led by an ex-Empire General, Fyyar and a very evil Dark Jedi called Desann – a huge Komodo dragon looking dude who was a student of Luke’s before he turned to the Dark side. Desann and Fyyar have amassed an army but it’s not just the usual Stormtroopers and folks who like to party at Jabbas. Desann found a way to infuse people with the force, turning them into Dark Jedi – as well as force and saber-resistant Troopers. Great. Picked a hell of a day to give up Jedi-ing Kyle. Somewhat repeating JKDFII’s plot, Desann’s acts force Kyle to rediscover his Jedi faith and set him off on a personal mission to take the lizard down.

JO is one of the best FPS, best Star Wars adventures, one of the best games of all time. And that’s not just the force talking. Once Kyle’s force powers are high enough he auto-deflects basic attacks, and there’s just something so cool about swaggering along flinging laser bolts back at hapless Stormtroopers like it’s nothing. The force powers are refined and intuitive, and Kyle quickly becomes an absolute badass Jedi Knight, to the point you barely use your blaster. Using force grip, pushing stormtroopers off cliffs, directing your Lightsaber, flinging force-lightning about, it’s great. Stormtroopers are quick off the draw and they’re coming at you from all angles, keeping you on your now quiet toes, and when a Dark Jedi gets thrown into the mix, it’s a furious battle. You can pull weapons away from Troopers but whereas in JKDFII they would stand around, in JO they either surrender or take off running; they’ll even recover fallen weapons.

The level design is detailed and complex, and on occasion we’re helped by Luke and Lando in extended cameos, plus we even get to stomp troopers with an AT-ST. It really is thrilling stuff, but it’s not all fanboy beauty; battling the Dark Jedi and the Dark Troopers is more of a bind that I recall, and my Jedi training still seems to consist of frantic mashing. But it’s worth it with the Dark Jedi, who are all arrogant and excited about killing a Jedi; their slow-mo death scenes are very satisfying as is pushing them off a cliff mid-taunt.

The biggest surprise is the lack of light-dark options. I thought that was a constant, but like MotS, Kyle is a straight-shooter throughout. While Luke bangs on about Kyle being driven by hate (and he cheated by stopping by JK’s Valley of the Jedi to superpower his force ability), as well as Kyle’s acts being deliberately manipulated by Desann, there’s no slow lean toward the Light or Dark. Other disappointments include the story starting to fall into fairly standard Star Wars sequel territory (ex-military/sith looking to restart the Empire; the bread-and-butter of all post Return of the Jedi stories) and it’s very similar to MotS but still, JO is an absolute joy to play, one of those great early to mid-Noughties games like Max Payne 2, FEAR and NOLF that got everything right. I actually preferred JK for the story, but JO has the Jedi stuff down perfect. JO isn’t just a great Star Wars game, it’s a great game period. I am a Jedi.

Star Wars Jedi Academy (2003)

Jedi Academy is perhaps the bravest of the Dark Forces series. It relegated Kyle to sidekick NCP and sent us all the way back to the beginning, as a Padawan learner.

Enroute to Luke’s Jedi Academy, we pick our gender and species, what they look like, even what kind of Saber they have. The only thing you can’t change is the name – I’m a unisex Jaden. There’s no back story to Jaden, and although she’s the first Padawan to have built her own Lightsaber, it’s all left unspoken. Given the light/dark moral choice is sort-of back, guess this is to let you decide on her background, and what kind of Jedi she’ll grow up to be.

How we reach that moment is a departure too. Rather than a constant story, we’re given a choice of self-contained Jedi odd-jobs – do enough and you unlock a story mission, like a fenced in free-roamer. This time, the Dark side is The Disciples of Ragnos, a dark Jedi cult somehow draining power from Force-sensitive places (maybe they got the idea from JK and JO …) The chores are a Star Wars geek’s bucket list; helping Chewie escape a lockdown on Tatooine, exploring Hoth while battling Wampas and riding Tauntauns, investigating a Sand Crawler (including Jawas; utinni! Which means Wow, I just found out. Thanks Wookieepedia), helping Wedge take out a Bespin-like gas mine, a speeder-bike run, face off Boba Fett, distracting a Rancor so it’s ‘game’ can escape, repairing your ship while avoiding a Graboid, and a standout mission where you battle on top of an out-of-control train rocketing through skyscrapers. There’s even a mission to Vader’s weekend retreat; an acid-rain hellhole where Darth stewed in peace. He even had a statue of himself in the lounge, the narcissistic emo.

If there’s a downside, JA is JO reskinned. The story is starting to feel very reheated while the look and level layout is the same. Force powers are roughly the same too, but they’re a lot more powerful; fully powering up lightning can clear an entire room while grip means Dark Jedi are flung willy-nilly. Enemies are largely the same as in JO, but there’s some Super-Jedi that take a beating and they’re all good fun to battle with.

The biggest and best change though is Jaden herself; wickedly acrobatic, she leaps, somersaults and backflips through fights; I force jumped across an exploding bridge then electrocuted two dark Jedi off a cliff; ran up a wall, backflipped over a stormtrooper then cut him to pieces in slo-mo; I roll and stab, do leaping swings down on villains, sliding sabre tackles cutting them off at the knees (and hands, in a nice little movie nod) – JA is pure Jedi wish-fulfilment and the saber is equally awesome to use. You have three different attack styles and they do seem to make a difference; best thing though, Jaden has three types of sabers to pick from – the standard single sabre which maximises ability, two sabres which looks incredibly cool and the Darth Maul staff. The Dark Jedi have the same abilities, and use them effectively; choking is a favourite of theirs, but they never fling you off a cliff. That’s unsportsmanlike even for a Sith.

Although we’ve been nagged at by both Luke and Kyle for favouring the Dark side (again, I’m not going to use Mind Trick when I can force choke a Dark Jedi and drop him off a bridge), the Light vs Dark path hasn’t really shown itself during the game; instead, after a sudden but inevitable betrayal we’re given a moral choice. Unlike JK where my acts dictate if I fall to the Dark side, I just have the choice to calm my anger or let rip. It’s a bit of a letdown, but you barely have time to grumble because the final quarter is a near-endless battle with Dark Jedi and a huge, bordering on unfair final boss. Two bosses, if the betraying NCP pissed you off and you went Dark side on their ass.

JK is another classic. The short missions do make it feel a bit less epic and the main mission is too familiar, but JK is even more of a fanboy game than JO and all the better for it. If JO made me feel like a Jedi, then like Yoda JA makes me feel.

It’s time for the Jedi to end. Just like Jedi Knight span off from Dark Forces, Jedi Academy could have span off into a whole another series of Padawns being sent on adventures, but it was not to be. But at least the series ended on a high note. Kyle is one of those Legend characters that fans adore – there was outrage he didn’t appear in Rogue One and that says a lot about how much those games mean to the Star Wars fans.

The Dark Forces series still stands as one of my faves – it may have begun as a clone but it carved its own path and each is worth a replay; despite the wobbly FMV, Jedi Knight wins it, as it’s closer to Star Wars than the others, especially with the light vs dark plot. But Jedi Outcast and Jedi Academy are the adventures we imagined while lying on the carpet surrounded by toys; you can’t play them and not feel like you’re IN Star Wars. Even if the reheated storyline makes you feel like you’re in VII-VIII. Maybe pass on Dark Forces, but the force is strong with the Jedi series still. Those are the games you’re looking for.

Dark Forces (1995) | Jedi Knight Dark Forces II (1997) | Mysteries of the Sith (1998)

Developer, LucasArts | Publisher, LucasArts

Platforms; Win, PS

Jedi Knight II Jedi Outcast (2002) | Jedi Knight Jedi Academy (2003)

Developer, Raven Software | Publisher LucasArts/Activision

Platforms; Win, XBox

Doom's Clones & Killers – Pt3

FBT survived Doom and Hailed the Build engine, baby. With Quake first on the list, is FBT’s quest to find the Doom Killer at an end? (Clue; there’s a part four)

Part Three: and I don’t love Jesus

It’s 1996, and- shut up, TFI Friday’s on. I can’t hear it over all your zigazig-ha’ing. And doesn’t Tony Blair seem nice? When we weren’t distracted by Loaded Magazine or giggling at Viz, we were cheering Cocker ruining Michael Jackson’s Earth Song at the BRITs and watching Oasis make history at Knebworth. Twice. We fell in love with the Spice Girls (well, their Say You’ll Be There video) and cried when Gabby left Big Breakfast. And cried again as mums kept buying Robson & Jerome singles. Just get back on Solider Solider. Or was it London’s Burning? We had Trainspotting, The Girlie Show, Dennis Pennis, Katie Puckrik in Pyjama party, Bizarre magazine, Kate Moss was Heroin Chic and amidst all this creativity and change the only Clone was Dolly the sheep?! Who, weirdly, has a twitter account (@dollyat20) and we still hadn’t had a Doom Killer, now three years old. The only FPS game to gain any momentum wasn’t found in your local Our Price, it was at the bottom of cereal packets. id had gone on a licensing frenzy, milking the Doom engine before it became obsolete and Chex Quest turned the best game of the decade into a commercial for a breakfast cereal and copies are still traded today.

Finally, in June 1996 we had something that kept us up so late we missed breakfast. I disliked Quake intensely on release – all the technological achievements were lost on me; I didn’t care about polygons and 3D, I wanted – expected, demanded – the shock and awe of Doom. Only id could do that, reclaim the FPS mantle after so many clones but to me, their return felt clinical and clean – It might have been a giant leap for game engines but it was small step for shooters; Quake was half the game Doom was.

When I restart Quake with a massive clip on my shoulder, I realise it is a thing of beauty. After all those minimal pixels, the similar environments, Quake is incredible, nothing short of genius at work. You can’t exist in this world and go back to Doom and think it’s better. But then, after a few hours play … I was right the first time. Quake is so polished, so perfect, so boring. You never feel like you won a level, that you pulled off a fast-one, a lucky streak, dragged a bloodied Doomguy to the exit hoping the next level has health at the start.

There’s four different worlds to fight through, but that’s not as refreshing as it might seem. It creates a disconnect – Doom had no real plot but you descended deeper into hell as you went, whereas four different worlds feels like starting over and over, relearning the world. It’s four mini-games not one epic gun-fest. The creatures move in realistic ways, the weapons are more varied and the world is full of stuff but you’re never really there. Quake feels at arms-length; Doom reached through the monitor and grabbed you by the scruff.

A key element to Doom was that feeling you were outnumbered, that you weren’t going to survive this; Quake may not have been able to replicate that original experience but it could easily have bettered the against-the-odds, breathless victory you got after beating a Cyberdemon. Quake is Blink-182 to Doom’s The Pistols; I don’t see how it’s considered one of the most influential games of all time. The Quake engine yes, but not the experience. Yet again I find new appreciation for what Doom did.

Quake didn’t kill Doom, it killed the single player. Quake’s multiplayer was an undeniable quantum leap – towards Single Player missions being little more than a five-hour tutorial for the online experience. There’s nothing wrong with Multiplayer – clearly that’s what id thought, given Quake III was MP only and it was done right in Quake – but Single Player was compromised. This is where the rot set in.

Meanwhile, genres other than FPS were stepping up their games. The Elder Scrolls proved they weren’t just a dungeon crawler with Daggerfall while Tomb Raider kicked off in October of ’96. If Doom was the King then the Queen was Lara Croft, easily the most iconic image of 90s gaming – but it didn’t change things in the way it should; we didn’t see a sudden shift to female leads, women treated any more equally or non-sexually in games. For all of Tomb Raider’s advancements it was Lara’s pixelated adolescent dream-figure that everyone remembered. 1996 also saw the beginning of the Resident Evil series and some company called Valve. It was a hell of a digital year, and what was FPS up to? Chasing a pig called Bessie. What, you too nervous about Y2K to build games?

I remember mucking about in Redneck Rampage (April 1997) and not really getting it; two brothers looking for their pig, stolen by aliens who have cloned their neighbours? Now I’m rescuing a pig? How far are those Doom Clones going to push their luck? Back then I found it too silly, sacked it off as undermining a genre that was just starting to get interesting. But after the deathly dullness of Quake, when I load up RR and hear a ‘yeehaw’ I think ‘Let’s do this’.

The opening level, where you cross a road while avoiding a car zipping around running over chickens, gives you an idea of what you’re up against and while I watch the car I get shotgunned by a Bubba in overalls screeching something in Redneck. I start again, trying to work out where the Redneck came from, and get run over. Man, being a redneck is hard.

Soon though, I get my eye in – which isn’t easy as RR is set at night and the blocky graphics of Build are grating after Quake’s smoothness, but there’s something to RR I hadn’t previously got wind of (not the fart-o-meter) – actual fun; we had Duke’s bluster, but otherwise FPS is a very serious affair; what we needed was pure nutso insanity and that’s what RR is; out of nowhere I discover a game I didn’t expect – a really good one. What in tarnation? I’m yeehawing like a good ol’boy.

There’s loads going on, to look at, to press and break, and instead of regular level layout we’re stumbling through farms, shacks, grain stores and trailers – it isn’t nonlinear but there’s a nice open world feel to it, something Duke also touched on and a further step from Doom’s corridors – later levels start to feel familiar once you’re in the towns but it maintains a quirky feel; a little unhinged level-design is refreshing and the enemies – classic rednecks alongside the aliens, including a dominatrix are great fun. Take heed RotT, this is how you do daft.

There’s the in-jokes too, and not all are aimed at the redneck caricature; while we’re somewhere between Deliverance and The Beverley Hillbillies, there’s a poster for a Troma movie, references to the artists on the soundtrack and typical alien tropes like crop circles and cows being mutilated – and tons of deep-south wisecracking from the heroes and the rednecks you gun down. The weapons are typical but there’s some homemade, jury-rigged backwoods style changes to the usual line-up, while a new trick is the burp and fart meters. Not exactly classy but they’re a fun way to add a penalty to using health powerups – drinking gets you drunk and impossible to control, eating makes you fart, giving you away. Redneck is really starting to stand out as something else; you can call it a hillbilly Duke but I’m having fun ya varmint – but not too much; it’s a subtly strong game, a lot more unforgiving than earlier FPS. Its psychobilly soundtrack (‘You Can’t Kill Me’ by Mojo Nixon is a standout as is Beat Farmers’ ‘Gettin’ Drunk’, proper psychobilly stuff not yer Cotton’Eye Joe, although now I have that stuck in my head) adds a new level too – instead of Doom’s dirge you merrily sing-along, to the point you don’t end a level ‘till the song’s finished. And you end levels by finding your dozy bro and clobbering him with a crowbar … it’s great to have a hero who instead of being heroic, complains ‘Ma head hurts, ma feet stank and I don’t love Jesus’.

You get the sense developers Xatrix had fun and it’s infectious – Saints Row and Borderlands owe RR a nod; it paved the way for the ridiculous to slip into shooters. It had sequels but RR was perhaps too silly to be remembered; I was equally guilty of dismissing it, but I missed out; open a can of whoopass and get ready to don’t love Jesus. It’s a great Doom-era shooter. Just remember those rednecks pack a punch; it’s not all banjo playing.

Redneck Rampage reminded me of another thing missing from modern games – extras. Games used to include entire Windows themes, screensavers, audio clips, pictures, all sorts. You just don’t get that kind of thing anymore, but I still have the ‘Cuss pack’ from RR; and now I have “I’m on you like flies on shee-it” as my ringtone.

Now, who want-a som Wang?

I recall Lo-Wang and Duke as buddies, equal in their abilities, including getting girls to show them their boobies. I’ve been looking forward to Shadow Warrior (May 1997) as I think I preferred Lo-Wang to Duke; he was a bit more mischievous, less Jock more Mock. SW was a straight-faced comedy, like a game based on some 1980s Ninja flick from Cannon Films. An Asian character – the kind created by a bunch of people who are not Asian – Lo-Wang revels in the innuendo of his name and doesn’t take anything seriously. Even when his old boss, Zilla, sends hordes of underworld forces to stop him, LW still treats it all like shit and giggles.

Much like Duke, Lo-Wang inhabits a world that’s fast leaving Doomguy’s behind – Build’s interactivity is at the fore in SW; LW can find repair kits to chug around in tanks, forklifts and boats, there’s puzzles and secrets that require some figuring out and he can muck about with little RC cars – we’re in the world more than ever before. It’s interesting that Quake far exceeds Build in terms of capability and environment, but SW just feels alive, immersive. The art design, which is Japanese influenced is detailed and like DN3D there’s loads going on. But Shadow Warrior starts to wear thin and one of the most important parts, one I previously loved, is to blame – Lo-Wang. Once he gets tiring, the game does. When he’s not making groan-worthy jokes about his name/manhood, he’s commenting on everything – ‘ohhh sticky bomb likes you’, ‘You are tiny grasshopper’, ‘You move like-a pregnant yak’ – he just goes on and on; an Eraser-inspired railgun is ruined by LW saying ‘you got Erased’ Every. Single. Time. And when he’s not commentating, he’s making Bruce Lee noises or giggling to himself. Super-health comes in the form of Chinese fortune cookies, which are puns like ‘man who farts in church sits in his own pew’. Okay I sniggered too and after nothing but ‘Ger, gah, uuugh’ sounds from my heroes, I should be happy to have a Chatty-Cathy for company but Lo-Wang is sidekick elevated to annoying hero.

Shadow Warrior is a case of diminishing returns – this is from 3DR again and like Duke, level design isn’t their forte. There’s a lot in it but it doesn’t go anywhere; it’s too reliant on the novelties but whereas Duke saved DN3D, once Lo-Wang grates some misgivings start to creep in. 3DR just cloned Duke thinking that would be enough, amping up his juvenile antics but Lo-Wang perpetuates the Asian stereotype with his ‘Engrish’ accent, Fu-Manchu moustache and kung-fu bants, and his Duke-lite persona falls into misogyny; Lo-Wang just accosts random girls – ‘Lo Wang drop soap,’ he says to a girl he corners in a shower, ‘you bend over and get it’ or telling a girl mechanic ‘chicky, you tighten my nuts’ – Plus, the girls all seem to love his attention, including one he interrupts on the toilet. In one secret area he comes across Sailor Moon on a bed – and asks ‘peaches’ if she’d consider Mooning him. Dick. Duke had an old spice swagger that justified his ladykiller ways and, politically correct or not, he paid strippers for a flash in a strip club; he didn’t sleaze.

I haven’t been this disappointed since my Tamagotchi died. I’m saddened Lo-Wang turned out to be Lo-rent, but it really is the weakest of the ‘Big Four’ Build games; and it’s 3DR’s fault again. They should have just licensed the Build engine and left the design to those who knew what they were doing. It bleeds the Build engine dry, making SW the most interactive, touchy-feely (Sailor’s Moon aside) game so far. But the only one really enjoying himself is Lo-Wang.

Stand back ladies and gents, we’re about to play the game that, if asked, I would have accused of killing Doom. Blood (May 1997) was the last notable game on the Build engine. Because nothing could top it, obviously. Blood’s Caleb was the Snake Plisskin of the gaming world; pissed-off, dangerous and with a singular purpose. He was awesome – the bleaker, darker anti-hero of the era who sounded a bit unhinged, muttering Evil Dead references and singing Frank Sinatra as he killed indiscriminately. I’ve been looking forward to this. Don’t let me down Caleb.

Blood has something all the others didn’t – a reason. This is where FPS actually got a story, a motive to maim your way to the end; The CGI opening sets the scene in a horribly morbid and cool way; Caleb, a brutal wild-west killer-for-hire was initiated into a dark cabal by his wife. Inexplicably, their dark god punishes them for some slight, and Caleb is buried alive after witnessing his beloved maimed by a demon. Escaping, Caleb goes on a rampage in the most imaginative levels we’ve blasted through so far.

One minute you’re in Camp Crystal Lake, the next fighting through a moving train, the mazes of the overlooked hotel, a fairground-circus, a remake of Dawn of the Dead; each level is a world we recognise from our VHS collection not Doom – Every other FPS you’d struggle to recognise one level from another if they were in a line-up; But Blood’s levels are all unique and fantastic to maim through. You never get bored in Blood – the story, level design, references, there’s so much going on yet it isn’t a distraction from some killer action; Blood is relentless, and the boss-fights for the first time are not OTT arena fights – they take some strategic foot-work and weapon-picking. The weapons too are nicely macabre – voodoo dolls, tommy-guns, his melee weapon is a pitchfork. When he lobbed dynamite with bloody results, Caleb cackles maniacally. Now that’s a hero sound, not Lo-Wang’s ehehehehe kid-being-tickled gurgle. Elsewhere Caleb’s rasping voice quotes everything from The Crow to a Harrison Ford The Fugitive/Air Force One mash-up … and he’s got sarcastic putdowns; upon finding a dead Duke Nukem, he double zings with ‘looks like I got time to play with you’ followed by ‘shake it baby’. If Shadow Warrior was an ill-conceived nod to Big Trouble in Little China, then this is John Carpenter’s The Thing with a nice sideline in They Live.

What is interesting though, is Blood’s story; something we’d not needed or wanted before. But Caleb had his reasons, and each episode ended with his avenging his wife and friends, headed towards a finale -with a god no less- only to leave empty-but-bloody-handed.

Of all the Build developers, Monolith is the one to really make the engine sing; sitting perfectly between SW’s novelty distractions and Duke’s outrageous set-pieces, Blood is brilliant and should be played just see how a shooter should work. Mindless killing and a mindful plot, it’s a perfectly balanced FPS and one of the best shooters of all time.

Blood didn’t kill Doom, the story-driver concept only really exists in the cutscenes and it still owes a debt to Doom but it provided that little edge as the endless blasting of FPS starts to get a little tiring. Blood is the first to seriously wound Doom.

There were Build games after Blood; TNT Team released Nam in July 1998, a reskin/mod of Duke with RotT-style scanned photos and flat environments. It did have some nice touches, like picking up orders from NCPs and having followers. Oddly, I didn’t see a heads-up display. But it had a semi-sequel in ’99, WWII GI. There was also Extreme Paintbrawl in 1998; let’s not talk about that. One thing to talk about though, is the argument that Build weakened the sincerity of FPS; that as soon as we were able to ask strippers to shake it baby, it became a battle of novelties and distractions; the visceral experience got watered down. I don’t think Build is to blame for that, indeed Blood’s bare-bones plotting makes it the best of the bunch – but 3DR were to blame; they just weren’t natural level designers like Romero – instead of using Build to enrich the Doom experience, they made theme parks; Romero raised level design to an art form, able to imagine not just the world, but you in it and then make it exciting to fight your way out. 3DR settled for boobs.

And that was it for Build, which really disappoints me; besides the technical marvels, Build games made you feel like anyone Kurt Russell played in the 80s; they were filled with refs to Evil Dead, John Carpenter, Sly & Arnie’s best 80s characters, even Elvira; so much was threaded through Build’s games that you felt as if the developers were mates; they were into what we were into – this was back when being a gamer was looked down on by Jocks and their new extreme sports like surfing on snow – Build let us know we weren’t alone. Build let us be heroes.

It’s a shame 3DR decided to spend all of their cash and good-will on the twelve-year development of Duke Nukem Forever; to piss away Duke Nukem was one (upsetting) thing, but to ignore what they’d achieved with Ken Silverman was unforgivable; just imagine what could have come next. Instead, Silverman stepped away from the gaming industry and became “CTO of Ardfry Imaging, responsible for the PNG Compression tool PNGOUT” which doesn’t sound like something Duke or Caleb would say. But I’m sure it’s had an effect on my digital life. He only made one engine, yet Silverman’s contribution was massive and it entertained and impacted beyond the games it powered; All hail the real king, baby.

So, Build was a shot across the bow, but no Doom-killing cigar. Onward. Maybe Elexis Sinclair has something to do with it. I’d better frisk her.

In Part Four of this increasingly indulgent look at the classic FPS era, FBT trades in his Portable CD player for a MP3, invents conspiracy theories to explain Doom’s death and spends most if the review trying to get in an Anna Nicole Smith reference.

Doom’s Clones & Killers – Pt3

FBT survived Doom and Hailed the Build engine, baby. With Quake first on the list, is FBT’s quest to find the Doom Killer at an end? (Clue; there’s a part four)

Part Three: and I don’t love Jesus

It’s 1996, and- shut up, TFI Friday’s on. I can’t hear it over all your zigazig-ha’ing. And doesn’t Tony Blair seem nice? When we weren’t distracted by Loaded Magazine or giggling at Viz, we were cheering Cocker ruining Michael Jackson’s Earth Song at the BRITs and watching Oasis make history at Knebworth. Twice. We fell in love with the Spice Girls (well, their Say You’ll Be There video) and cried when Gabby left Big Breakfast. And cried again as mums kept buying Robson & Jerome singles. Just get back on Solider Solider. Or was it London’s Burning? We had Trainspotting, The Girlie Show, Dennis Pennis, Katie Puckrik in Pyjama party, Bizarre magazine, Kate Moss was Heroin Chic and amidst all this creativity and change the only Clone was Dolly the sheep?! Who, weirdly, has a twitter account (@dollyat20) and we still hadn’t had a Doom Killer, now three years old. The only FPS game to gain any momentum wasn’t found in your local Our Price, it was at the bottom of cereal packets. id had gone on a licensing frenzy, milking the Doom engine before it became obsolete and Chex Quest turned the best game of the decade into a commercial for a breakfast cereal and copies are still traded today.

Finally, in June 1996 we had something that kept us up so late we missed breakfast. I disliked Quake intensely on release – all the technological achievements were lost on me; I didn’t care about polygons and 3D, I wanted – expected, demanded – the shock and awe of Doom. Only id could do that, reclaim the FPS mantle after so many clones but to me, their return felt clinical and clean – It might have been a giant leap for game engines but it was small step for shooters; Quake was half the game Doom was.

When I restart Quake with a massive clip on my shoulder, I realise it is a thing of beauty. After all those minimal pixels, the similar environments, Quake is incredible, nothing short of genius at work. You can’t exist in this world and go back to Doom and think it’s better. But then, after a few hours play … I was right the first time. Quake is so polished, so perfect, so boring. You never feel like you won a level, that you pulled off a fast-one, a lucky streak, dragged a bloodied Doomguy to the exit hoping the next level has health at the start.

There’s four different worlds to fight through, but that’s not as refreshing as it might seem. It creates a disconnect – Doom had no real plot but you descended deeper into hell as you went, whereas four different worlds feels like starting over and over, relearning the world. It’s four mini-games not one epic gun-fest. The creatures move in realistic ways, the weapons are more varied and the world is full of stuff but you’re never really there. Quake feels at arms-length; Doom reached through the monitor and grabbed you by the scruff.

A key element to Doom was that feeling you were outnumbered, that you weren’t going to survive this; Quake may not have been able to replicate that original experience but it could easily have bettered the against-the-odds, breathless victory you got after beating a Cyberdemon. Quake is Blink-182 to Doom’s The Pistols; I don’t see how it’s considered one of the most influential games of all time. The Quake engine yes, but not the experience. Yet again I find new appreciation for what Doom did.

Quake didn’t kill Doom, it killed the single player. Quake’s multiplayer was an undeniable quantum leap – towards Single Player missions being little more than a five-hour tutorial for the online experience. There’s nothing wrong with Multiplayer – clearly that’s what id thought, given Quake III was MP only and it was done right in Quake – but Single Player was compromised. This is where the rot set in.

Meanwhile, genres other than FPS were stepping up their games. The Elder Scrolls proved they weren’t just a dungeon crawler with Daggerfall while Tomb Raider kicked off in October of ’96. If Doom was the King then the Queen was Lara Croft, easily the most iconic image of 90s gaming – but it didn’t change things in the way it should; we didn’t see a sudden shift to female leads, women treated any more equally or non-sexually in games. For all of Tomb Raider’s advancements it was Lara’s pixelated adolescent dream-figure that everyone remembered. 1996 also saw the beginning of the Resident Evil series and some company called Valve. It was a hell of a digital year, and what was FPS up to? Chasing a pig called Bessie. What, you too nervous about Y2K to build games?

I remember mucking about in Redneck Rampage (April 1997) and not really getting it; two brothers looking for their pig, stolen by aliens who have cloned their neighbours? Now I’m rescuing a pig? How far are those Doom Clones going to push their luck? Back then I found it too silly, sacked it off as undermining a genre that was just starting to get interesting. But after the deathly dullness of Quake, when I load up RR and hear a ‘yeehaw’ I think ‘Let’s do this’.

The opening level, where you cross a road while avoiding a car zipping around running over chickens, gives you an idea of what you’re up against and while I watch the car I get shotgunned by a Bubba in overalls screeching something in Redneck. I start again, trying to work out where the Redneck came from, and get run over. Man, being a redneck is hard.

Soon though, I get my eye in – which isn’t easy as RR is set at night and the blocky graphics of Build are grating after Quake’s smoothness, but there’s something to RR I hadn’t previously got wind of (not the fart-o-meter) – actual fun; we had Duke’s bluster, but otherwise FPS is a very serious affair; what we needed was pure nutso insanity and that’s what RR is; out of nowhere I discover a game I didn’t expect – a really good one. What in tarnation? I’m yeehawing like a good ol’boy.

There’s loads going on, to look at, to press and break, and instead of regular level layout we’re stumbling through farms, shacks, grain stores and trailers – it isn’t nonlinear but there’s a nice open world feel to it, something Duke also touched on and a further step from Doom’s corridors – later levels start to feel familiar once you’re in the towns but it maintains a quirky feel; a little unhinged level-design is refreshing and the enemies – classic rednecks alongside the aliens, including a dominatrix are great fun. Take heed RotT, this is how you do daft.

There’s the in-jokes too, and not all are aimed at the redneck caricature; while we’re somewhere between Deliverance and The Beverley Hillbillies, there’s a poster for a Troma movie, references to the artists on the soundtrack and typical alien tropes like crop circles and cows being mutilated – and tons of deep-south wisecracking from the heroes and the rednecks you gun down. The weapons are typical but there’s some homemade, jury-rigged backwoods style changes to the usual line-up, while a new trick is the burp and fart meters. Not exactly classy but they’re a fun way to add a penalty to using health powerups – drinking gets you drunk and impossible to control, eating makes you fart, giving you away. Redneck is really starting to stand out as something else; you can call it a hillbilly Duke but I’m having fun ya varmint – but not too much; it’s a subtly strong game, a lot more unforgiving than earlier FPS. Its psychobilly soundtrack (‘You Can’t Kill Me’ by Mojo Nixon is a standout as is Beat Farmers’ ‘Gettin’ Drunk’, proper psychobilly stuff not yer Cotton’Eye Joe, although now I have that stuck in my head) adds a new level too – instead of Doom’s dirge you merrily sing-along, to the point you don’t end a level ‘till the song’s finished. And you end levels by finding your dozy bro and clobbering him with a crowbar … it’s great to have a hero who instead of being heroic, complains ‘Ma head hurts, ma feet stank and I don’t love Jesus’.

You get the sense developers Xatrix had fun and it’s infectious – Saints Row and Borderlands owe RR a nod; it paved the way for the ridiculous to slip into shooters. It had sequels but RR was perhaps too silly to be remembered; I was equally guilty of dismissing it, but I missed out; open a can of whoopass and get ready to don’t love Jesus. It’s a great Doom-era shooter. Just remember those rednecks pack a punch; it’s not all banjo playing.

Redneck Rampage reminded me of another thing missing from modern games – extras. Games used to include entire Windows themes, screensavers, audio clips, pictures, all sorts. You just don’t get that kind of thing anymore, but I still have the ‘Cuss pack’ from RR; and now I have “I’m on you like flies on shee-it” as my ringtone.

Now, who want-a som Wang?

I recall Lo-Wang and Duke as buddies, equal in their abilities, including getting girls to show them their boobies. I’ve been looking forward to Shadow Warrior (May 1997) as I think I preferred Lo-Wang to Duke; he was a bit more mischievous, less Jock more Mock. SW was a straight-faced comedy, like a game based on some 1980s Ninja flick from Cannon Films. An Asian character – the kind created by a bunch of people who are not Asian – Lo-Wang revels in the innuendo of his name and doesn’t take anything seriously. Even when his old boss, Zilla, sends hordes of underworld forces to stop him, LW still treats it all like shit and giggles.

Much like Duke, Lo-Wang inhabits a world that’s fast leaving Doomguy’s behind – Build’s interactivity is at the fore in SW; LW can find repair kits to chug around in tanks, forklifts and boats, there’s puzzles and secrets that require some figuring out and he can muck about with little RC cars – we’re in the world more than ever before. It’s interesting that Quake far exceeds Build in terms of capability and environment, but SW just feels alive, immersive. The art design, which is Japanese influenced is detailed and like DN3D there’s loads going on. But Shadow Warrior starts to wear thin and one of the most important parts, one I previously loved, is to blame – Lo-Wang. Once he gets tiring, the game does. When he’s not making groan-worthy jokes about his name/manhood, he’s commenting on everything – ‘ohhh sticky bomb likes you’, ‘You are tiny grasshopper’, ‘You move like-a pregnant yak’ – he just goes on and on; an Eraser-inspired railgun is ruined by LW saying ‘you got Erased’ Every. Single. Time. And when he’s not commentating, he’s making Bruce Lee noises or giggling to himself. Super-health comes in the form of Chinese fortune cookies, which are puns like ‘man who farts in church sits in his own pew’. Okay I sniggered too and after nothing but ‘Ger, gah, uuugh’ sounds from my heroes, I should be happy to have a Chatty-Cathy for company but Lo-Wang is sidekick elevated to annoying hero.

Shadow Warrior is a case of diminishing returns – this is from 3DR again and like Duke, level design isn’t their forte. There’s a lot in it but it doesn’t go anywhere; it’s too reliant on the novelties but whereas Duke saved DN3D, once Lo-Wang grates some misgivings start to creep in. 3DR just cloned Duke thinking that would be enough, amping up his juvenile antics but Lo-Wang perpetuates the Asian stereotype with his ‘Engrish’ accent, Fu-Manchu moustache and kung-fu bants, and his Duke-lite persona falls into misogyny; Lo-Wang just accosts random girls – ‘Lo Wang drop soap,’ he says to a girl he corners in a shower, ‘you bend over and get it’ or telling a girl mechanic ‘chicky, you tighten my nuts’ – Plus, the girls all seem to love his attention, including one he interrupts on the toilet. In one secret area he comes across Sailor Moon on a bed – and asks ‘peaches’ if she’d consider Mooning him. Dick. Duke had an old spice swagger that justified his ladykiller ways and, politically correct or not, he paid strippers for a flash in a strip club; he didn’t sleaze.

I haven’t been this disappointed since my Tamagotchi died. I’m saddened Lo-Wang turned out to be Lo-rent, but it really is the weakest of the ‘Big Four’ Build games; and it’s 3DR’s fault again. They should have just licensed the Build engine and left the design to those who knew what they were doing. It bleeds the Build engine dry, making SW the most interactive, touchy-feely (Sailor’s Moon aside) game so far. But the only one really enjoying himself is Lo-Wang.

Stand back ladies and gents, we’re about to play the game that, if asked, I would have accused of killing Doom. Blood (May 1997) was the last notable game on the Build engine. Because nothing could top it, obviously. Blood’s Caleb was the Snake Plisskin of the gaming world; pissed-off, dangerous and with a singular purpose. He was awesome – the bleaker, darker anti-hero of the era who sounded a bit unhinged, muttering Evil Dead references and singing Frank Sinatra as he killed indiscriminately. I’ve been looking forward to this. Don’t let me down Caleb.

Blood has something all the others didn’t – a reason. This is where FPS actually got a story, a motive to maim your way to the end; The CGI opening sets the scene in a horribly morbid and cool way; Caleb, a brutal wild-west killer-for-hire was initiated into a dark cabal by his wife. Inexplicably, their dark god punishes them for some slight, and Caleb is buried alive after witnessing his beloved maimed by a demon. Escaping, Caleb goes on a rampage in the most imaginative levels we’ve blasted through so far.

One minute you’re in Camp Crystal Lake, the next fighting through a moving train, the mazes of the overlooked hotel, a fairground-circus, a remake of Dawn of the Dead; each level is a world we recognise from our VHS collection not Doom – Every other FPS you’d struggle to recognise one level from another if they were in a line-up; But Blood’s levels are all unique and fantastic to maim through. You never get bored in Blood – the story, level design, references, there’s so much going on yet it isn’t a distraction from some killer action; Blood is relentless, and the boss-fights for the first time are not OTT arena fights – they take some strategic foot-work and weapon-picking. The weapons too are nicely macabre – voodoo dolls, tommy-guns, his melee weapon is a pitchfork. When he lobbed dynamite with bloody results, Caleb cackles maniacally. Now that’s a hero sound, not Lo-Wang’s ehehehehe kid-being-tickled gurgle. Elsewhere Caleb’s rasping voice quotes everything from The Crow to a Harrison Ford The Fugitive/Air Force One mash-up … and he’s got sarcastic putdowns; upon finding a dead Duke Nukem, he double zings with ‘looks like I got time to play with you’ followed by ‘shake it baby’. If Shadow Warrior was an ill-conceived nod to Big Trouble in Little China, then this is John Carpenter’s The Thing with a nice sideline in They Live.

What is interesting though, is Blood’s story; something we’d not needed or wanted before. But Caleb had his reasons, and each episode ended with his avenging his wife and friends, headed towards a finale -with a god no less- only to leave empty-but-bloody-handed.

Of all the Build developers, Monolith is the one to really make the engine sing; sitting perfectly between SW’s novelty distractions and Duke’s outrageous set-pieces, Blood is brilliant and should be played just see how a shooter should work. Mindless killing and a mindful plot, it’s a perfectly balanced FPS and one of the best shooters of all time.

Blood didn’t kill Doom, the story-driver concept only really exists in the cutscenes and it still owes a debt to Doom but it provided that little edge as the endless blasting of FPS starts to get a little tiring. Blood is the first to seriously wound Doom.

There were Build games after Blood; TNT Team released Nam in July 1998, a reskin/mod of Duke with RotT-style scanned photos and flat environments. It did have some nice touches, like picking up orders from NCPs and having followers. Oddly, I didn’t see a heads-up display. But it had a semi-sequel in ’99, WWII GI. There was also Extreme Paintbrawl in 1998; let’s not talk about that. One thing to talk about though, is the argument that Build weakened the sincerity of FPS; that as soon as we were able to ask strippers to shake it baby, it became a battle of novelties and distractions; the visceral experience got watered down. I don’t think Build is to blame for that, indeed Blood’s bare-bones plotting makes it the best of the bunch – but 3DR were to blame; they just weren’t natural level designers like Romero – instead of using Build to enrich the Doom experience, they made theme parks; Romero raised level design to an art form, able to imagine not just the world, but you in it and then make it exciting to fight your way out. 3DR settled for boobs.

And that was it for Build, which really disappoints me; besides the technical marvels, Build games made you feel like anyone Kurt Russell played in the 80s; they were filled with refs to Evil Dead, John Carpenter, Sly & Arnie’s best 80s characters, even Elvira; so much was threaded through Build’s games that you felt as if the developers were mates; they were into what we were into – this was back when being a gamer was looked down on by Jocks and their new extreme sports like surfing on snow – Build let us know we weren’t alone. Build let us be heroes.

It’s a shame 3DR decided to spend all of their cash and good-will on the twelve-year development of Duke Nukem Forever; to piss away Duke Nukem was one (upsetting) thing, but to ignore what they’d achieved with Ken Silverman was unforgivable; just imagine what could have come next. Instead, Silverman stepped away from the gaming industry and became “CTO of Ardfry Imaging, responsible for the PNG Compression tool PNGOUT” which doesn’t sound like something Duke or Caleb would say. But I’m sure it’s had an effect on my digital life. He only made one engine, yet Silverman’s contribution was massive and it entertained and impacted beyond the games it powered; All hail the real king, baby.

So, Build was a shot across the bow, but no Doom-killing cigar. Onward. Maybe Elexis Sinclair has something to do with it. I’d better frisk her.

In Part Four of this increasingly indulgent look at the classic FPS era, FBT trades in his Portable CD player for a MP3, invents conspiracy theories to explain Doom’s death and spends most if the review trying to get in an Anna Nicole Smith reference.

#FPS #Shooter #blastfromthepast #playthrough #FBT #extendedplay #Doomera

Doom's Clones & Killers Pt2

In the second part of Previous Weapon’s FPS retrospective, FBT makes like David Suchet and questions the clones about the identity of the Doom Killer.

Part Two: All hail the King, baby

Doom was out, and everything had changed. Even over at Apple. Bungie’s Marathon kept them going instead of Doom. It was a shooter with a storyline – a what? We don’t have time for that, Netscape Navigator was out and that meant 0.5% of us had access to the WWW – when we weren’t watching a Ford Bronco drive down the freeway that is. But the biggest news of ‘94 was still 93’s Doom. No one had touched it; well, there had been some inappropriate touching – a Doom Community sprung up thanks to the web, trading their own levels and mods; id’s decision to let gamers mess with Doom’s level design was another innovation and it turned kids into level designers and FPS into a multi-faceted hobby; playing, building and deathmatching. Doom also popularised web-chat, file-sharing and encouraged the uptake of the net; the world was changing, for us anyway. While our parents watched Blind Date and Beadle’s About, we had Terry Christian egging someone on to eat a sandwich of toenail clippings, were frothing to go on Nemesis at Alton Towers, whispered “UVAVU” while watching Geri and Kylie snog and the 11.30 Diet Coke break advert. The nineties were in full swing.

Released in December 1994, Heretic was the first Doom Clone but it wasn’t a cash-in; created by Raven, built on the Doom engine and exec-produced by Romero, it was less a clone and more a companion. You charged around locations taken over by a Saruman type, using magical weapons (a bow standing in for the shotgun, a claw that fired spells is your chaingun) while taking out Fantasy versions of Doom’s hell creatures. Okay, Heretic must have seemed a bit twee back then, a bit D&D; who wants to be in Dad’s Lord of the Rings when we had our Doom?

While Heretic is Doom reskinned, the art design is great and it’s learnt a lot about pacing and level design – It doesn’t have Doom’s aggression, you’re an elf waving a magical staff around medieval villages so not as cool as being a squad member from the Sulaco like Doomguy, but it’s good to have an alternative to Doom’s military setting which was replicated by most of the other clones.

Once I’ve got my eye past the minimal pixels and basic movement, I realise Heretic is really good; it has a great ambient feel – we hear groans and grumbles, chains rattling and whispers, the art design is really nice and it’s not stuffed with creatures; there’s areas and secrets to explore rather than just blast through, and it features an inventory (including a spell that turns creatures into chickens) – it gives Heretic an adventurer feel as we stalk through cathedrals and Mordor-like locations. When we do meet the bad guys though, they’re top notch; glamorous, chanting Wizards, giant skulls and the screeching little imps. It’s a lot further from Doom than I remembered, and while it’s possible they just got to work before Doom clone fever really gripped, maybe Raven are really good devs – they did go onto Star Trek Elite Force and Jedi Knight Outcast. Heretic doesn’t immediately call Doom to memory surprisingly enough, it stands up well despite its age and it’s got its own personality; I’m enjoying it for what it is rather than running on memories; it’s a great shooter and worth a replay. Heretic is memorable for another reason – It’s retail disk included DWANGO, the first programme to let you dial-up n’ deathmatch with folks further away than an LAN cable could reach. Online gaming was here.

I really liked Heretic. It’s one from this era that didn’t get a remaster and that’s a massive shame. Reboots you can keep but a refined Heretic would be awesome. One from this era that did get a reboot was Rise of the Triad (Feb 1995) and I have no idea why.

It starts off well enough; we’re the HUNT team on the, erm, hunt for bad guys who are on an island. Let’s go get those bad gu – wait, why are there trampolines in their secret lair? And why is everywhere filled with spinning coins like a Mario game, and platforms to reach them dotted around the castle? My god, RotT is awful. I thought we’d left this arcade kiddie nonsense behind. RotT came from 3DRealms and id co-founder Tom Hall; they knew intimately what Doom was and this isn’t it. Maybe that’s the point, but there’s different and then there’s daft.

I might have liked it at the time, back then you’d take anything you could get once you’d rinsed Doom but jeez this is annoying. There’s some progress here, you could dual -wield pistols and machine guns and had an assortment of explosive weapons rather than tons of oddities, there’s auto-aim too but it’s all buried under the silliness and digitised elements that don’t work; we’re being attacked by cardboard cut-outs – the sprites of Doom were 2D but they animated and moved in semi-convincing ways while those screengrabs look like a stiff breeze would blow them over. The weapons too look like photos which seem less believable. And there’s crushers, revolving walls, traps and spikes everywhere for no reason; one thing about Doom, it played by its rules – an invading force that you were repelling, but this gang’s gaff is a gauntlet the bad guys run as well. Half the time the traps kill the bad-guys for me. RotT is part Looney Tunes, Wolf-clone, arcade, platformer and forgets the FPS part. It’s so cheap looking you’d think it’s a quickie knock-off called Doomed. It’s not a Doom clone, it’s a first person Manic Miner. An Uwe Bol adaption of Doom.

Happy New Year, 1995. The year we all got to enjoy Toy Story, and Tommy Lee and Pammy’s honeymoon. The biggest clone of 1995 was a game we’d already played – not just in Doom mods but with our own toys; Star Wars Dark Forces (Feb 1995). Released by Lucasarts, a company that could punt out instant classics like Last Crusade and Monkey Island for breakfast, for them bettering Doom must be as easy as pulling an X-Wing out of a swamp. But always with Doom it cannot be done; while SWDF provided major advancements within the world and game play, this is just Doom with a John Williams score. There’s text explaining non-cannon events to tie it in but SWDF is the best example of a Doom clone yet. It’s not a bad game and playing Star Wars is always going to carry you some of the way, but it’s lacking Doom’s dangerous quality and fatally, keeps reminding you of it. It’s just a reproduction, not an innovation. Plus, the Stormtroopers can actually hit you, how unrealistic is that? It’s Doom on the Death Star and that’s not as cool to play as it sounds – Doom is still one in a million, kid. Sad to say but the Star Doom mods were better. Leave it back in a more civilized age, when Han shot first.

Dark Forces’ biggest contribution to the gaming world was its sequels – Freed of the beat Doom mentality, the first sequel Jedi Knight was a rocking Star Wars shooter with an add-on (remember those) called Mysteries of the Sith. The second sequel, Jedi Outcast got it right; it’s a fantastic SW game and FPS in its own right, and the final sequel, Jedi Academy is a solid game that got lightsabers so spot on they turned into John Woo-level ballet. Dark Forces started as a Clone but it forged its own path to become a classic series with a better legacy than Doom.

Build, the engine that would go onto power Duke Nukem launched its first game in 1995, Witchaven, a Heretic-style goth shooter. It didn’t have much in the way of smart-arse heroes or the level of interaction that later Build Engine games did, but it had a charm to it. Like Wolf, it was a warm up for what Build could do – and what it did next was present someone so legendary, so grand and awesome it’s tough to believe a simple game could contain such an iconic hero – William Shatner. Who were you thinking of? 1995’s Tekwar brought his sci-fi novels to shooter-life and included a digitised Shat; that gives you some idea of how powerful Build was.

In September 1995, the gaming world was shaken again. Not by a game, but by a new way to play, station. Sony’s “Live in your world. Play in ours” campaign was aimed squarely at the Doom generation; aka the MTV Generation (PlayStation sponsored the 1995 MTV Music Awards to prove exactly who PS was aimed at – gaming is not for the kiddiewinks anymore) and the PS made gaming as cool as the Music and Movies of the era. We had our console, our games, we were Sorted for E’s n Wizz and wondering who is Keyser Söze? Perfect.

Meanwhile, briefly distracting us from Xena Warrior Princess was Hexen: Beyond Heretic (October) and this time we weren’t a silent hero. We were three of them. A Fighter who is melee mostly, a Mage who uses long-range magic and a Cleric who uses lower-powered versions of both. Hexen is pretty much Heretic, although not a re-heat; aside from character classes, you also transport back and forth between areas to progress (why I’m not sure, I don’t have the manual) and while the sounds and certain art is the same there’s additions like breakables, leaves falling off trees and more detailed levels. Hexen is fun to play; while it feels Doom-like, unlike Heretic, the character class is a refreshing change; RotT had characters but they made no real change to the experience, whereas in Hexen each character provides a different experience; first time FPS had replay value. I chose the fighter class and melee’ing about is a welcome change from guns again. If Heretic was Legolas prancing about then Hexen lets us play as John Rhys-Davis, and what’s wrong with that? The magnificent wizards are back too, although according to a Heretic Wiki they were ‘Disciples’. Whatever they were, they rule. But they’re not the king, baby.

Doom was loud. Apart from the gunfire and exploding barrels there was screaming, shouting, growling, howling, all underpinned by the constant industrial score yet one thing was largely quiet – Doomguy. 3DReams, already a part of the id family as their shareware distributors, called in Ken Silverman to step things up after Doom. He gave them the Build Engine and that gave us giggles alongside the guts, rock-stars instead of serious and silent. While Carmack would disagree, Build was a huge improvement on the Doom engine; for gamers anyway – it let us misbehave; if Doom was the Father of FPS then Build was the uncle who gave you sweets and let you stay up late, and in January 1996, Duke Nukem 3D gave shooters a voice – Duke was the spokesperson for FPS, it’s ambassador, the entire experience distilled into one badass with a big mouth and bigger guns. Duke was mightily pleased with himself, had every girl at his feet and paused for one-liners before doing battle. Everyone remembers when Duke told a mini-boss he was going to rip off his head and shit down his neck, and when the battle was won, promptly pulled down his trousers, took out the paper and sat on the corpse, whistling. I remember Duke more than DN3D, so to attend a reunion now is a worry; if I find out the school hero who dated the cheerleaders is now a regional manager for an insurance company and bald instead of bold I’m gonna be crushed.

I start playing and he’s really not that bad. Phew. Sure, tipping strippers for a peek is juvenile and the pigs dressed as cops isn’t subtle, but DN3D is nowhere near as insulting as I expected it to be. Just shows how horrific Duke Nukem Forever was that it’s tainted Duke Nukem 3D as well. The earthbound locations he shoots through like Porn Theatres and strip-clubs are what they are and while girls in underwear dancing, the strippers, the women used as incubators and Duke being rewarded for his hard work with a three-way during the end credits are all tough to defend, Duke is a parody of those Bond-like heroes who seduced women through sheer masculinity. It is sexist but crucially it’s not misogynistic or mean-spirited like DNF – there’s no Boob-growths in the walls to slap, glory holes to stick little Duke through or incestuous twins dressed as schoolgirls who share Duke and joke about rape and abortions before dying as Duke comforts them with ‘looks like … you’re fucked’ – I’m not saying DN3D is acceptable because it’s not as appalling as DNF, but DN3D treaded that celebration vs parody line perfectly. Duke is still the voice of a genre and generation; Silent Heroes always felt a bit awkward, especially when they’re in cut-scenes. I wouldn’t want the quiet one saving the world, I want someone who’s going to be all out of gum. I feel like a Hollywood hero, shrugging off bullets and being the only guy for the job. Duke’s gabbing does dilute some of the tension and it’s hard to take it seriously, but it’s not supposed to be taken seriously; everything up to now has been bleak, against-the-odds stuff, but this is Cobra or Commando time. Duke enjoys the challenge. And so do I.

DN3D has some good opponents to battle against and Build gives them a fighting chance rather than id’s walk-this-way AI; in Doomworld monsters walked or floated toward you but Duke’s adversaries do both; they fly, leap, hover and hide, and they react to your attacks – we have to be a little more tactical but thankfully, Build has us covered – the pipe-bomb and mines lets us get sneaky. While Heretic had timed mines you dropped as you were chased by one of the splendid wizards and hoped it went off under his cloak, in DN3D we can set traps and lob controlled pipe-bombs; and Duke would reward your game-play with a one-liner worthy of Arnie. As is standard, DN3D has episode-ending mini-bosses but this being Duke’s world, mini means massive and besting them gets you a cutscene showing just how cool and heroic Duke is, as if there was any doubt. In order to combat such extreme monsters, Duke has the kind of arsenal only a super-hero could wield; aside from the standard there’s various explosive weapons and the freeze gun which lets you shatter opponents, and the shrinker – stomping on a now-tiny bad guy is a new one.

It’s not all Mr Bombastic though – it can be a slog to get through an episode and the first, set in downtown LA is largely the same design rejigged. The Lunar levels get dull very quickly and the third mission is a disappointing return to earth and the same look again; it gets very samey once you’re over the distractions. One reason I struggled to recall the gameplay of DN3D is how much it relies on the boss; this is Duke’s show. You can imagine Duke’s Superior yelling he’s caused more destruction than the bad guys, only to have Duke wink and walk off, taking the boss’s wife with him. There’s great fights, creatures and interactions but without the big man, DN3D would be a dull game – although Duke did get some cracking add-ons; Life’s A Beach had Duke holidaying with squirt guns and it’s worth a play just for the Pig Cops in Hawaiian shirts and the Octo-thingies in raybans.

There was another Build game in 1996, PowerSlave. Originally intended as a showcase for Build before Duke started to shape up, it was largely over-shadowed by its big brother, but remained popular enough for an unofficial remake.

DN3D is a huge improvement on what we’ve played so far, but the real show-stopper, the only thing to upstage Duke is the Build engine. Build provided a world to interact with, something we’d not had before. Doom was one thing only – serious about shooting. Besides the strippers, Duke could get distracted playing pool, staring at himself in mirrors, pinball games with him on the artwork (‘I haven’t got time to play with myself’), posters to look at, buttons to press, CCTV screens; we’re crawling through vents, sewers and diving under water, using powerups like holograms and the jetpack; I suspected DN3D would be where we leave Doom behind but while it’s the stuff that would make Don Simpson call Heidi Fleiss and celebrate, what DN3D did was diverge the FPS genre; from here the seeds of the more outlandish FPS game were sown. Down the pub, Doomguy is just Duke’s wingman but on the battlefield Doom still reigns. Case closed; Duke is innocent of killing Doom. Where is it? Man, finding Doom’s killer is hard. If she hadn’t been cancelled in 1996, I’d call Jessica Fletcher in on this. Maybe my Encarta CD has the answer.

In Part Three, FBT takes on the game convicted of killing Doom. But is Quake guilty as charged? And is all this just an excuse for FBT to play Blood again and google Dani Behr?

Doom’s Clones & Killers Pt2

In the second part of Previous Weapon’s FPS retrospective, FBT makes like David Suchet and questions the clones about the identity of the Doom Killer.

Part Two: All hail the King, baby

Doom was out, and everything had changed. Even over at Apple. Bungie’s Marathon kept them going instead of Doom. It was a shooter with a storyline – a what? We don’t have time for that, Netscape Navigator was out and that meant 0.5% of us had access to the WWW – when we weren’t watching a Ford Bronco drive down the freeway that is. But the biggest news of ‘94 was still 93’s Doom. No one had touched it; well, there had been some inappropriate touching – a Doom Community sprung up thanks to the web, trading their own levels and mods; id’s decision to let gamers mess with Doom’s level design was another innovation and it turned kids into level designers and FPS into a multi-faceted hobby; playing, building and deathmatching. Doom also popularised web-chat, file-sharing and encouraged the uptake of the net; the world was changing, for us anyway. While our parents watched Blind Date and Beadle’s About, we had Terry Christian egging someone on to eat a sandwich of toenail clippings, were frothing to go on Nemesis at Alton Towers, whispered “UVAVU” while watching Geri and Kylie snog and the 11.30 Diet Coke break advert. The nineties were in full swing.

Released in December 1994, Heretic was the first Doom Clone but it wasn’t a cash-in; created by Raven, built on the Doom engine and exec-produced by Romero, it was less a clone and more a companion. You charged around locations taken over by a Saruman type, using magical weapons (a bow standing in for the shotgun, a claw that fired spells is your chaingun) while taking out Fantasy versions of Doom’s hell creatures. Okay, Heretic must have seemed a bit twee back then, a bit D&D; who wants to be in Dad’s Lord of the Rings when we had our Doom?

While Heretic is Doom reskinned, the art design is great and it’s learnt a lot about pacing and level design – It doesn’t have Doom’s aggression, you’re an elf waving a magical staff around medieval villages so not as cool as being a squad member from the Sulaco like Doomguy, but it’s good to have an alternative to Doom’s military setting which was replicated by most of the other clones.

Once I’ve got my eye past the minimal pixels and basic movement, I realise Heretic is really good; it has a great ambient feel – we hear groans and grumbles, chains rattling and whispers, the art design is really nice and it’s not stuffed with creatures; there’s areas and secrets to explore rather than just blast through, and it features an inventory (including a spell that turns creatures into chickens) – it gives Heretic an adventurer feel as we stalk through cathedrals and Mordor-like locations. When we do meet the bad guys though, they’re top notch; glamorous, chanting Wizards, giant skulls and the screeching little imps. It’s a lot further from Doom than I remembered, and while it’s possible they just got to work before Doom clone fever really gripped, maybe Raven are really good devs – they did go onto Star Trek Elite Force and Jedi Knight Outcast. Heretic doesn’t immediately call Doom to memory surprisingly enough, it stands up well despite its age and it’s got its own personality; I’m enjoying it for what it is rather than running on memories; it’s a great shooter and worth a replay. Heretic is memorable for another reason – It’s retail disk included DWANGO, the first programme to let you dial-up n’ deathmatch with folks further away than an LAN cable could reach. Online gaming was here.

I really liked Heretic. It’s one from this era that didn’t get a remaster and that’s a massive shame. Reboots you can keep but a refined Heretic would be awesome. One from this era that did get a reboot was Rise of the Triad (Feb 1995) and I have no idea why.

It starts off well enough; we’re the HUNT team on the, erm, hunt for bad guys who are on an island. Let’s go get those bad gu – wait, why are there trampolines in their secret lair? And why is everywhere filled with spinning coins like a Mario game, and platforms to reach them dotted around the castle? My god, RotT is awful. I thought we’d left this arcade kiddie nonsense behind. RotT came from 3DRealms and id co-founder Tom Hall; they knew intimately what Doom was and this isn’t it. Maybe that’s the point, but there’s different and then there’s daft.

I might have liked it at the time, back then you’d take anything you could get once you’d rinsed Doom but jeez this is annoying. There’s some progress here, you could dual -wield pistols and machine guns and had an assortment of explosive weapons rather than tons of oddities, there’s auto-aim too but it’s all buried under the silliness and digitised elements that don’t work; we’re being attacked by cardboard cut-outs – the sprites of Doom were 2D but they animated and moved in semi-convincing ways while those screengrabs look like a stiff breeze would blow them over. The weapons too look like photos which seem less believable. And there’s crushers, revolving walls, traps and spikes everywhere for no reason; one thing about Doom, it played by its rules – an invading force that you were repelling, but this gang’s gaff is a gauntlet the bad guys run as well. Half the time the traps kill the bad-guys for me. RotT is part Looney Tunes, Wolf-clone, arcade, platformer and forgets the FPS part. It’s so cheap looking you’d think it’s a quickie knock-off called Doomed. It’s not a Doom clone, it’s a first person Manic Miner. An Uwe Bol adaption of Doom.

Happy New Year, 1995. The year we all got to enjoy Toy Story, and Tommy Lee and Pammy’s honeymoon. The biggest clone of 1995 was a game we’d already played – not just in Doom mods but with our own toys; Star Wars Dark Forces (Feb 1995). Released by Lucasarts, a company that could punt out instant classics like Last Crusade and Monkey Island for breakfast, for them bettering Doom must be as easy as pulling an X-Wing out of a swamp. But always with Doom it cannot be done; while SWDF provided major advancements within the world and game play, this is just Doom with a John Williams score. There’s text explaining non-cannon events to tie it in but SWDF is the best example of a Doom clone yet. It’s not a bad game and playing Star Wars is always going to carry you some of the way, but it’s lacking Doom’s dangerous quality and fatally, keeps reminding you of it. It’s just a reproduction, not an innovation. Plus, the Stormtroopers can actually hit you, how unrealistic is that? It’s Doom on the Death Star and that’s not as cool to play as it sounds – Doom is still one in a million, kid. Sad to say but the Star Doom mods were better. Leave it back in a more civilized age, when Han shot first.

Dark Forces’ biggest contribution to the gaming world was its sequels – Freed of the beat Doom mentality, the first sequel Jedi Knight was a rocking Star Wars shooter with an add-on (remember those) called Mysteries of the Sith. The second sequel, Jedi Outcast got it right; it’s a fantastic SW game and FPS in its own right, and the final sequel, Jedi Academy is a solid game that got lightsabers so spot on they turned into John Woo-level ballet. Dark Forces started as a Clone but it forged its own path to become a classic series with a better legacy than Doom.

Build, the engine that would go onto power Duke Nukem launched its first game in 1995, Witchaven, a Heretic-style goth shooter. It didn’t have much in the way of smart-arse heroes or the level of interaction that later Build Engine games did, but it had a charm to it. Like Wolf, it was a warm up for what Build could do – and what it did next was present someone so legendary, so grand and awesome it’s tough to believe a simple game could contain such an iconic hero – William Shatner. Who were you thinking of? 1995’s Tekwar brought his sci-fi novels to shooter-life and included a digitised Shat; that gives you some idea of how powerful Build was.

In September 1995, the gaming world was shaken again. Not by a game, but by a new way to play, station. Sony’s “Live in your world. Play in ours” campaign was aimed squarely at the Doom generation; aka the MTV Generation (PlayStation sponsored the 1995 MTV Music Awards to prove exactly who PS was aimed at – gaming is not for the kiddiewinks anymore) and the PS made gaming as cool as the Music and Movies of the era. We had our console, our games, we were Sorted for E’s n Wizz and wondering who is Keyser Söze? Perfect.

Meanwhile, briefly distracting us from Xena Warrior Princess was Hexen: Beyond Heretic (October) and this time we weren’t a silent hero. We were three of them. A Fighter who is melee mostly, a Mage who uses long-range magic and a Cleric who uses lower-powered versions of both. Hexen is pretty much Heretic, although not a re-heat; aside from character classes, you also transport back and forth between areas to progress (why I’m not sure, I don’t have the manual) and while the sounds and certain art is the same there’s additions like breakables, leaves falling off trees and more detailed levels. Hexen is fun to play; while it feels Doom-like, unlike Heretic, the character class is a refreshing change; RotT had characters but they made no real change to the experience, whereas in Hexen each character provides a different experience; first time FPS had replay value. I chose the fighter class and melee’ing about is a welcome change from guns again. If Heretic was Legolas prancing about then Hexen lets us play as John Rhys-Davis, and what’s wrong with that? The magnificent wizards are back too, although according to a Heretic Wiki they were ‘Disciples’. Whatever they were, they rule. But they’re not the king, baby.

Doom was loud. Apart from the gunfire and exploding barrels there was screaming, shouting, growling, howling, all underpinned by the constant industrial score yet one thing was largely quiet – Doomguy. 3DReams, already a part of the id family as their shareware distributors, called in Ken Silverman to step things up after Doom. He gave them the Build Engine and that gave us giggles alongside the guts, rock-stars instead of serious and silent. While Carmack would disagree, Build was a huge improvement on the Doom engine; for gamers anyway – it let us misbehave; if Doom was the Father of FPS then Build was the uncle who gave you sweets and let you stay up late, and in January 1996, Duke Nukem 3D gave shooters a voice – Duke was the spokesperson for FPS, it’s ambassador, the entire experience distilled into one badass with a big mouth and bigger guns. Duke was mightily pleased with himself, had every girl at his feet and paused for one-liners before doing battle. Everyone remembers when Duke told a mini-boss he was going to rip off his head and shit down his neck, and when the battle was won, promptly pulled down his trousers, took out the paper and sat on the corpse, whistling. I remember Duke more than DN3D, so to attend a reunion now is a worry; if I find out the school hero who dated the cheerleaders is now a regional manager for an insurance company and bald instead of bold I’m gonna be crushed.

I start playing and he’s really not that bad. Phew. Sure, tipping strippers for a peek is juvenile and the pigs dressed as cops isn’t subtle, but DN3D is nowhere near as insulting as I expected it to be. Just shows how horrific Duke Nukem Forever was that it’s tainted Duke Nukem 3D as well. The earthbound locations he shoots through like Porn Theatres and strip-clubs are what they are and while girls in underwear dancing, the strippers, the women used as incubators and Duke being rewarded for his hard work with a three-way during the end credits are all tough to defend, Duke is a parody of those Bond-like heroes who seduced women through sheer masculinity. It is sexist but crucially it’s not misogynistic or mean-spirited like DNF – there’s no Boob-growths in the walls to slap, glory holes to stick little Duke through or incestuous twins dressed as schoolgirls who share Duke and joke about rape and abortions before dying as Duke comforts them with ‘looks like … you’re fucked’ – I’m not saying DN3D is acceptable because it’s not as appalling as DNF, but DN3D treaded that celebration vs parody line perfectly. Duke is still the voice of a genre and generation; Silent Heroes always felt a bit awkward, especially when they’re in cut-scenes. I wouldn’t want the quiet one saving the world, I want someone who’s going to be all out of gum. I feel like a Hollywood hero, shrugging off bullets and being the only guy for the job. Duke’s gabbing does dilute some of the tension and it’s hard to take it seriously, but it’s not supposed to be taken seriously; everything up to now has been bleak, against-the-odds stuff, but this is Cobra or Commando time. Duke enjoys the challenge. And so do I.

DN3D has some good opponents to battle against and Build gives them a fighting chance rather than id’s walk-this-way AI; in Doomworld monsters walked or floated toward you but Duke’s adversaries do both; they fly, leap, hover and hide, and they react to your attacks – we have to be a little more tactical but thankfully, Build has us covered – the pipe-bomb and mines lets us get sneaky. While Heretic had timed mines you dropped as you were chased by one of the splendid wizards and hoped it went off under his cloak, in DN3D we can set traps and lob controlled pipe-bombs; and Duke would reward your game-play with a one-liner worthy of Arnie. As is standard, DN3D has episode-ending mini-bosses but this being Duke’s world, mini means massive and besting them gets you a cutscene showing just how cool and heroic Duke is, as if there was any doubt. In order to combat such extreme monsters, Duke has the kind of arsenal only a super-hero could wield; aside from the standard there’s various explosive weapons and the freeze gun which lets you shatter opponents, and the shrinker – stomping on a now-tiny bad guy is a new one.

It’s not all Mr Bombastic though – it can be a slog to get through an episode and the first, set in downtown LA is largely the same design rejigged. The Lunar levels get dull very quickly and the third mission is a disappointing return to earth and the same look again; it gets very samey once you’re over the distractions. One reason I struggled to recall the gameplay of DN3D is how much it relies on the boss; this is Duke’s show. You can imagine Duke’s Superior yelling he’s caused more destruction than the bad guys, only to have Duke wink and walk off, taking the boss’s wife with him. There’s great fights, creatures and interactions but without the big man, DN3D would be a dull game – although Duke did get some cracking add-ons; Life’s A Beach had Duke holidaying with squirt guns and it’s worth a play just for the Pig Cops in Hawaiian shirts and the Octo-thingies in raybans.

There was another Build game in 1996, PowerSlave. Originally intended as a showcase for Build before Duke started to shape up, it was largely over-shadowed by its big brother, but remained popular enough for an unofficial remake.

DN3D is a huge improvement on what we’ve played so far, but the real show-stopper, the only thing to upstage Duke is the Build engine. Build provided a world to interact with, something we’d not had before. Doom was one thing only – serious about shooting. Besides the strippers, Duke could get distracted playing pool, staring at himself in mirrors, pinball games with him on the artwork (‘I haven’t got time to play with myself’), posters to look at, buttons to press, CCTV screens; we’re crawling through vents, sewers and diving under water, using powerups like holograms and the jetpack; I suspected DN3D would be where we leave Doom behind but while it’s the stuff that would make Don Simpson call Heidi Fleiss and celebrate, what DN3D did was diverge the FPS genre; from here the seeds of the more outlandish FPS game were sown. Down the pub, Doomguy is just Duke’s wingman but on the battlefield Doom still reigns. Case closed; Duke is innocent of killing Doom. Where is it? Man, finding Doom’s killer is hard. If she hadn’t been cancelled in 1996, I’d call Jessica Fletcher in on this. Maybe my Encarta CD has the answer.

In Part Three, FBT takes on the game convicted of killing Doom. But is Quake guilty as charged? And is all this just an excuse for FBT to play Blood again and google Dani Behr?

#Shooter #FPS #blastfromthepast #playthrough #FBT #extendedplay #Doomera

Doom's Clones & Killers – Pt1

In this, the first of a four-part retrospective, FBT goes back to the best era in gaming (so he says) – The 1990s explosion and implosion of First Person Shooters

Part One: Gott im Himmel

They say in the Sixties everyone remembered where they were when JFK was shot. In the Eighties, everyone remembered where they were when John Lennon was shot. But in the Nineties, we remember doing the shooting – on December 10th, 1993, id unleashed Doom.

Built by gamers for gamers, Doom may have been underground but like an earthquake its impact was seismic, sending shockwaves through the gaming world and eventually reaching the real world; referenced in The Simpsons, Friends and ER, Doom was part of the nineties zeitgeist, gaming’s Nevermind or Pulp Fiction and in modern terms, it was bigger than Facebook, affecting workplace productivity and causing issues on company networks.

Doom even slowed Microsoft’s world domination; When their ads for Windows 95 asked ‘where do you want to go today?’ Gamers replied ‘DOS’ – the platform W95 was replacing and the only sure-fire way to game on PC. Gamers weren’t going to risk losing Doom (it was rumoured Doom was installed on more PCs than W95) and Microsoft, realising Doom’s dedicated fanbase was the future, developed Direct-X which allowed games to play ‘as’ a Window. It was a watershed moment; Doom was ported to Windows (by some bloke called Gabe Newell), and Bill Gates appeared ‘in’ Doom during a W95 Expo to prove Windows was the future – a video game created by a bunch of lads made Bill Gates, at the height of his power, say ‘if you can’t beat’em…’ It gave Gabe Newell some ideas too.

And Doom pissed off parents, like every good trend should. Doom wasn’t the first game to show death but this time you really were in there, up close – with a chainsaw. Stories of players passing out, getting motion sickness and post-traumatic stress triggered Parent Groups who classified Doom as top-tier evil alongside Ren & Stimpy. ‘Killology researcher’ David Grossman coined the phrase ‘murder simulator’ and it was said this new era of games could turn kids into killers; Doom was held accountable for the Columbine Massacre.

But none of that mattered to the gamers who discovered Doom that day; we had no idea we were loading up the You’re Gonna Need A Bigger Boat moment of gaming; we were in the Aliens Hive scene screaming ‘its game over man, game over!’ – And for any other game, it was. Doom was the new standard, and it launched a whole new race to be the biggest, baddest First Person Shooter – gamers couldn’t be happier. Parents, less so.

Games back then, loaded up through that DOS prompt and the shareware warning were way more exciting that anything around now. You really had no idea what you were getting into, even with a Doom Clone. It took commitment to finish a game in the nineties; we didn’t have any of your fancy auto-saves or mission skips, no walkthroughs; you had to really love a game to finish it and that stays with you. We sweated for the exit, got your head down and tapped spacebar until something opened. And the joy of finding the secret that had an exit! That meant secret level, that meant bragging rights, that meant pranks on friends. It was a great time. So, what happened? The FPS genre is awful now. Generic reheats, remakes, reboots; story-led, watered-down, XP-driven, gimmick-ridden bastard-childs of RPG. Thinking back to Doom, when is something gonna come out of nowhere and make us think ‘the fuck just happened?’ I’m going to replay FPS from Wolfenstein onwards until I track down Doom’s killer. Where it all went wrong.

Mein Leben! In May 1992 Wolfenstein 3D landed. We’d barely gotten over the Freddie Mercury Tribute concert and now we were blasting Nazis. Not sure what the connection is, but I admit I might have been listening to Extreme at the time. More than words can say how much I played Wolf back in the day; the only German I know is from Wolf (and Die Hard…) Replaying Wolf doesn’t just bring back embarrassing adolescent musical choices (I was also into Mr.Big for a while; don’t judge me, I liked Guitar Shredders at the time, Steve Vai rocks. Totally not a power-ballad phase), but it has fondly reminded me of Shareware; ripping a disk off the cover of a magazine I didn’t read and excitedly loading up every demo, game and crappy screensaver. Then borrowing the full game from mates. I think one of those mates still has me To Be With You CD single.

Wolf was Gamer’s You Know When You’ve Been Tango’ed moment. When we weren’t suffering tinnitus from ear-clapping each other in the playground, we were amazed at the fast-moving, unforgiving gameplay. It was exhilarating; Wolf wasn’t the first FPS but it was the first to get it right, to make you feel like you were there. I played Wolf endlessly, least when Gladiators wasn’t on. But unlike Jet, it’s not aged well. Really, Wolf is a maze layout fighting through pixelated Nazis over and over. I don’t know what I was expecting but once you’re through the first level you’ve played them all really, but you can appreciate the work, feel the energy that went into building this. It’s kinda quaint now and has that arcade feel but still, it’s fast and unforgiving – I expected years of digital shooting would make this a cake-walk but I spend as long reloading the game as I do the guns. If they had reload.

Wolfenstein is best left in the past; while it had me smiling, once those memories of singing Ebeneezer Goode stop flooding, the lack of ceilings and floors and the repetitiveness make Wolf a bit of a slog, but you must pay homage to the OG of FPS, the calm before the storm. What Wolf has done for me is get me excited for what’s coming next.

What came next was Blake Stone. I feel sorry for Blake, sent to a mad scientist’s space-station to stop his evil experiments; like the rest of us, he didn’t know what was coming. Released in December 1993, just before Doom landed, BS was completely steamrolled and I was mid-way through it when my friend appeared, waved a floppy and yelled ‘get ready to shit your pants’ – I remember it because I did shit my pants; that disc had Doom shareware on it. I also I never went back to BS. It felt like a kiddie game after Doom.

As I play it now, I realise I owe Blake an apology; it’s a really good game. It does look rough but there are some surprising touches absent from the others of the era; Blake gains health at vending machines and you’ll find scientists who give info – one of several ways this reminds me of Half-Life. Like all games of the era you’re looking for a key to progress but more logically, the keys unlock floors accessed via an elevator and you can return to a floor to further explore when better armed, rather than exit never to return – the floor layout, while basic is much more interesting than Wolf and the art design has a nice 50s Sci-Fi style to it, the antithesis of Doom’s slimy atheistic. It’s a lot more busy that Wolf’s basic look and while it may not have been intentional, BS feels like it was just having some fun; the monsters wouldn’t look out of place in a Goosebumps book and it has an Indy-inspired adventure feel to it. But that was exactly what we didn’t want at the time – Doom created the perfect run n’ gun; who wants to talk to Scientists, use vending machines, go back instead of relentlessly pushing forward? But there’s a lot to it, it’s harder than it looks and it’s crying out for an app re-release. It fun and worth a go if you’re bored of shitting your pants.

So this was it, September 12, 1993 – A moment I’ll never forget. Terri Hatcher in Lois & Clark. Three months later, Doom landed and nothing was the same again.

As the years passed I left Doom behind. I played it endlessly at first, but eventually recalled it becoming hollow once you’d gotten over shitting your pants and, especially after the Wolf and Blake experiences, I expect to find Doom equally dated – I’ve not played for at least ten years yet as soon as I get going, I remember secrets, barrels just around corners, which exit doors have an Imp behind them. Doom is so entrenched in my DNA, my first-born’s first word will be an Imp growl; and that familiarity isn’t the only thing I’m responding to – this is really good. Not in its scares or firefights, but the rhythm. I hadn’t appreciated how well balanced a game Doom is, how it subtly ratchets up the tension instead of exhausting you into giving up. Twenty plus years and modern shooters could still learn from this. Doom was like when you were a kid and found a wasps’ nest. You still poked it with a stick even though you knew better. Doom gave you a shotgun instead of a stick and there was no Mum with the Savlon and a scolding afterwards but you still went for it. That’s a good game.

Doom does, honestly, still have it. It isn’t even in my top ten but it should be; I realise now, Doom formed my opinion on every gun-orientated game since. It’s one thing to remember how good a game was, it’s another to be realising just how good it is. Doom 3 sucked because it went for the jump-scare. That’s not good level design or pacing, that’s lazy. No, worse than that, it’s a misunderstanding of Doom, where you hear the imp behind the door and you have to open it. That’s far scarier than something leaping out at you. You’re so into it that the minimal pixels and blocky movement melt into a pure visceral experience and while modern shooters may look the shit, they’re not In The Shit like Doom is – this is just a bunch of pixels, how is it triggering some caveman-survival instinct?

There’s a real subversive simplicity in Doom; you can describe it in a sentence, but you have to experience it to understand; Modern Shooters are nothing compared to your first Tour of Duty in Doom – take down a horde of invisible pinkie demons, then we’ll talk about your kill-streaks. Some of the impact has been lost, but when it all kicks off I’m still as mesmerised as when Terri Hatcher said “They’re real … and they’re spectacular.”

I wouldn’t have called Doom art back then, I do now.

Of course, Doom didn’t stop at the exit. The biggest shock was Deathmatch. Seeing your pal as a little Doomguy then fragging them with a rocket launcher was something gaming hasn’t ever surpassed; Multiplayer, co-op, online is a standard now but that’s nothing compared to LAN games where the only smacktalking was from your friend sitting opposite – this was just fun scrapping about, not a dickhead half-way round the word being a little big man on his mic. Fuck those guys, I miss the Doom Parties. Even when you were hilariously murdering each other, Doom brought us together. Nothing has ever topped that, and nothing ever can.

Replaying Doom does bring back some awesome memories, especially the best prank of all time on my ‘shit your pants’ mate – the secret level in episode 3. It’s a remake of the first level and I found it when I was playing alone. I saved it for future fun and at our next hang-out, suggested we speedrun episode 3. I went first and reached the exit … Then, when he was busy mocking my attempt, I loaded the secret level instead and let him have at it. His face when he hit the exit and sat back to crow but the Cyberdemon appeared instead – he actually jumped as if it was in the room with him. But then he sucked it down and got on with shooting, his voice trembling as he called me names. That’s Doom – panic and pals. I’ll admit the panic has waned, but it’s replaced with appreciation and the excitement is still there – Doom is brilliant. Who killed you? I shall avenge you. Just as soon as I’ve humped my rig over to my mate’s house and LAN’ed it up for old time’s sake.

By 1994, UK society was on the brink of collapse. Ch4 aired a lesbian kiss on Brookside and Frances Ruffle flashed Union Jack knickers (take that Ginger Spice) during a Top of the Pops performance; the children of Mary Whitehouse screamed the place down – they also felt affronted by Frances’ hip-swinging. The outrage. Hips! Swinging! Did we learn nothing from Elvis’ gyrations, sending an entire generation into an uncontrollable sexual frenzy? Good job that Brookside kiss turned us all homosexual otherwise it doesn’t bear thinking about. Society was at an end apparently though; our most beloved TV character (besides Beth Jordache) was Mr. Blobby?! How did he get a Christmas single and Zig n’ Zag didn’t?

There was little to do in the wake of Doom, except on Wednesdays when you’d get rudely awakened by the Dustmen. There was Pie in the Sky; while their game engine PitS was a bit Poundland, it was offered as an off-the-shelf product making PitS the archetype of Doom Cloning; dozens of PitS-powered shooters popped up and while they’re long-forgotten now, PitS should be remembered for filling many a floppy on the cover of PC Gamer while we waited, and watched Brookside.

And it was Doom II we were all waiting for. Released in September 1994, I was more excited about Doom II than Rachel’s haircut. I rushed it home and at first I was shrieking and screaming at the scale and intensity of it, but then I started to feel like I was playing mods of the original. And that bloody ending with the Icon of Sin – I do recall cheating and finding Romero’s head, although then I had no idea who it was. I had high-hopes for DII when I restarted this time, hoping for a new appreciation like the original, and to begin it is heart-stoppingly brutal; Those damn chain-gunners, that rocket-launching blob, the missile-launching skeletons, the goddamn Arch Vile, all (and more) between me and an exit that took effort to reach alive. Those are big levels. But then, that energy starts to dip. The expanded level-sizes are all good but it’s more of a survival game than an exhilarating rush like the original, and while the layouts are good, the larger size starts to be betray how little art design id had to work with – as good as it is, it gets samey; Doom was never a game to stand around and look at the wallpaper. It’s just not as much fun, like the id guys were distracted by what Carmack was cooking up for Quake. There’s some brilliant levels, and it’s still an awesome yardstick game, but it just doesn’t feel fresh. I’m never happy – had DII been a departure I likely would have moaned too, but DII should have been more than just more. For me, besides further improving the Deathmatching, DII greatest contribution was the killer Aliens Doom mods, complete with facehuggers, plasma rifles and Hudson as Doomguy; they’re better than Aliens Colonial Marines. But then, what isn’t?

Most games from this era punted out quickie sequels; Blake Stone turned in Planetstrike, Wolf repeated itself in Spear of Destiny – using left-over level designs, those retweaked remakes were low-cost, high-sell games and I would dismiss DII as just a Clone, but it was more than that; Doom might have been game-changing, but Doom II was industry-changing; no longer an underground, mythical thing traded in playgrounds like fuzzy VHS copies of Evil Dead, Doom II was a grown up, on the shelves game and a phenom on release – it netted id millions and cemented FPS as a major genre; it was everywhere, like that Meat Loaf song. I’d do anything for Doom but I won’t do that. It was so big even my parents knew it. I recalled my Mum saying she’s “read about some horrendous game that lets you chainsaw people, you’d better not be playing that” / “No mum, I just wanna listen to Mr Big. Did you buy the Radio Times with Lois and Clark on the cover?” – we have our first suspect in the Doom murder. Not Terri Hatcher, Doom II! The motive? DII brought FPS into the mainstream; every publisher that saw shareware as rinky-dink suddenly went ‘that could’ve been us’ and while the music industry was busy signing up every band that wore a checked shirt, publishers descended on devs and demanded more Doom. Doom II didn’t kill Doom with innovation, it killed it with success. Clone after clone followed, each a copy of a copy, until the pure Doom experience got fuzzy.

FPS was out now, there was no stuffing that demonic genie back in the bottle. As Doom II cleaned up, others were about to make things messy. But which game dealt Doom the killing blow? I had a few more suspects to question; Lo-Wang and Duke to name a few.

Check out part two of FBT’s ‘investigation’/excuse where he continues to blast his way through the best 90’s FPS had to offer while watching Earth 2 and Seaquest.