Through
the beams of my headlights, I could see the FedEx shipping
box propped
up against my garage door. It was 10:10 pm on an unusually
cool August night. I had just arrived home from work. I
had the
house all to myself, and the
game that I had been waiting for years to play was finally
here - Doom 3.
After a quick install
and configuration, using FRAPS to ensure my framerate
stays above 30, I settled upon "High" quality
at 1024 x 768 with 4x aa, all while trying not to
see too much of the
game before I "really" began. Once set, I turned
out the lights and cranked up the volume.
A commanding
voice directs my spacecraft to land; I receive orders
to search for a missing scientist. I had to see everything,
spending a full hour exploring the Martian base before
even firing my first shot.
And
then, it begins. With the words, "The devil
is real. I know, I built his cage," Mars City transforms
itself into a 21st-century dark ride. When I was growing
up in 1970's Pittsburgh, one of my favorite thrills was
to ride the Ghost Ship at Kennywood Park. Ultraviolet
skeletons and psychedelic ghouls popped out of the
darkness. Even though I visited here every May with my
school class, I still jumped at the "surprise" splash
of water when the ride ends. I like being scared.
Doom 3 was about to become my new Ghost Ship.
Except that this dark
ride doesn't last just a few minutes. In fact, moving
from
one room to the next sometimes takes several minutes
in itself. With each footstep a possible trigger
for another zombie spawn, I moved hesitantly. The distant
cries of Marines succumbing to God-knows-what were
perfect
examples
of the imagined being more terrifying than the realized.
Trap doors, false walls, and pitch-black corners held
legions of the undead, ready to spring out at the slightest
provocation. I played on a 76-inch
projected screen with 5.1 surround sound.
With the volume way up. In a dark, empty house.
Suffice to say I was immersed.
Doom 3 was clearly capable
of rattling my bones, but after a while I needed
a break. The time
was
now well after midnight. I sat at my computer trying
to clear my mind by surfing the Web. Not five minutes
later, the power in my house went out and I heard
a distant "pop."
I had just exited the
terrifying dark corridors of Doom 3 to find myself,
alone, in a dark, silent, rural house with nothing
but the light of my cell phone to pierce the night.
Why
was
the power
out? There were no storms, no lightning, no wind. It
could only be zombies. Surely the yard outside was
crawling with the flesh-eating undead. I knew it was
irrational to seriously think that this was anything
other than a routine power outage. Zombies aren't
smart enough to cut the power. I was terrified. I
called
my mother.
I'm
39.
I'm not kidding.
I have to give 5 stars
to any game that scares me enough to call my mother
in the middle of the night. (By the way, we talked
for 90 minutes and after a few tense moments while
she checked the TV for a possible Fox News Alert it
was a fun call. I never did discover why the power
went out, but BG&E
had service restored by 3am.) Doom
3 has been critiqued by some as an old-school linear
shooter, but it is such a well-crafted experience that
I have
had
more fun playing this game than any single-player game
I have ever played before.
The experience is
intense like no other. Thoughtfully so. The decision
to force
either a flashlight or a weapon is
a brilliant gameplay device. This ride is all about
being scared, and that means sometimes fighting blind.
It means not knowing how many foes are surrounding
you,
but getting a hint by hearing a nearby
growl. Or several.
Game balance builds in
intensity as the game unfolds. Newer, more powerful
enemies are matched by your acquisition of even more
powerful weapons. I played on the Veteran difficulty
setting
and was
frequently overcome by the force of the heavier-hitting
demons and occasionally by swarms of the lesser foes.
Pacing is intense -- I needed frequent
breaks
and
could rarely play for more than an hour at a time.
The story unfolds through
in-game cutscenes, emails and audio journals
reminiscent of those in System Shock 2. The voice acting
is excellent.
Especially noteworthy is the voice of United
Aerospace Corporation. The contrast between the
slick presentation in the UAE video disks and their
catastrophic content is rather comical - "Safer worlds
through superior firepower" - as is the satirical
use of spam from Martian
Buddy.
Doom 3's level of polish
and scripting detail pushes gaming's production
values to new heights. Hollywood blockbusters and
video
games may someday merge into a single form of entertainment.
If that happens, it will have been because of titles
like Doom 3. While some have criticized Doom 3 for
being a repetitive shooter, which to me is like criticizing
Myst for having too many puzzles, this game is
in my mind a masterpiece - the current pinnacle of
the survival horror genre. The way I see it is this:
you
can either
roll with the fun
and
actually
enjoy
the thrill ride that is Doom 3, or you can hang with
the
too-macho-to-be-heard-screaming
crowd.
The choice is yours -- I'm having fun. Just so long
as my mom is only a phone call away. -
Last Update 6/14/08
Through
the beams of my headlights, I could see the FedEx shipping
box propped
up against my garage door. It was 10:10 pm on an unusually
cool August night. I had just arrived home from work. I
had the
house all to myself, and the
game that I had been waiting for years to play was finally
here - Doom 3.
And
then, it begins. With the words, "The devil
is real. I know, I built his cage," Mars City transforms
itself into a 21st-century dark ride. When I was growing
up in 1970's Pittsburgh, one of my favorite thrills was
to ride the Ghost Ship at Kennywood Park. Ultraviolet
skeletons and psychedelic ghouls popped out of the
darkness. Even though I visited here every May with my
school class, I still jumped at the "surprise" splash
of water when the ride ends. I like being scared.
Doom 3 was about to become my new Ghost Ship.
