Doom 3
One of the signs of getting older is when your nostalgia predates some people's entire memories. It comes as no small shock to me when I realise that there are people out there, proper gamers, maybe even reading this right now, who missed Doom entirely. A violent orgy of blood and demons, and more blood, all in glorious very-nearly-3D. With the best shotgun ever.
But that was all a decade ago. Given its lack of attractiveness in the light of modern gaming, it is unlikely to gain any new fans. A blast from the past for those who were there, and little more than an ugly curiosity for everyone else.
This is where Doom 3 comes in. It's not a sequel. It's not even a prequel. The clue is in the logo: This is Doom3; The original masterpiece, cubed. The levels are new, of course, and we're now on Mars itself rather than the ill-fated moons, but other than that we are right back at the start of it all, watching Hell break loose from behind the safety catch of a pistol.
For those new to the whole thing, let us pay a quick visit to the storyline. A Martian science base has discovered the secrets of teleportation, potentially opening up a new era for human civilisation. What it does open up, however, is a gateway to Hell. Literally. Now the demons are on the loose, most of the base is dead or insane, and it's up to you to sort it all out. Got that? Good. Now forget it. It's simply half-hearted justification to mix space station technology with good old-fashioned fire and brimstone. The only thing deep here is the lake of blood.
So far, so Doom. It's the game you may have played back in the nineties, but requiring ten times the processing power on the graphics card alone. It is here where Doom 3's meat really lies. Every single frame looks like pre-rendered promotional art, but thrown up at sixty promo shots per second. The rusty Martian base is perfectly mapped for bumps, with high-poly scenery liberally strewn about. Heat sources gently ripple the surrounding air, inch-thick plastic windows offer a distorted view of the room beyond, and showers of sparks bounce from fizzling electronics.
Lighting has always been an important part of the Doom series. The interplay between light and dark, and how the safety of the former can quickly give way to terrifying pitch black rooms, is a significant part of the atmosphere. That shotgun, lying innocently in a single spotlight, is going to trigger a trap when you wander over to collect it. Pressing a switch leads to lights out, and the inevitable WHOOSH of secret doors sliding open to let in the imps. Out in the darkness, danger lies. Fear what you cannot see.
Doom 3's dynamic lighting is nothing short of breathtaking. Rarely is a room adequately lit, and those that are rely on flickering bulbs and swinging striplights to break through the gloom. And everything - everything - casts a perfect shadow. The effect is stunning, creating a world so real that you can almost feel the darkness surrounding you at every step, even if it does mean everything has a tinge of reflective plastic to it. Unlike this year's similarly poorly-lit epic Thief, however, the low-light is far from your friend. Your torch is essential for finding your way around and examining the scenery, but crucially cannot be used along with a weapon. It's your choice: Find false security in the small cone of your flashlight, or hide behind your loaded shotgun and risk not seeing the demon before it tears you a new throat.
Or you could download a mod to put a light on your gun, but really now. That's just cheating.
Ah, the demons. New are the shambling zombies, former workers who owe more to Resident Evil than anything else, bursting out of every alcove and sucking up your ammo. The old Doom favourites also return with a makeover from Hell. The once-humble Imp, for example, is now a lightning-fast beast who will crawl out of air ducts and launch itself at your vulnerable form, as well as hanging back and lobbing the traditional fireballs. Your first encounter with a pink Demon, greeted by a short in-engine cutscene, is one you will never forget. I shall end the descriptions here, and hold back on the screenshots, as the joy is in the surprise.
That and you can't really see anything without the torch. It's really hard to take pictures while you're getting mauled by crazed monsters.
Atmospherically, Doom 3 accomplishes exactly what it sets out to achieve. The repulsion of dim rooms coated with blood, the ever-present darkness mixed with the distant laughter of hellspawn, and the true stomach-churning discoveries of disembowelled marines, still living, crucified by the fleshy growth that has spread throughout the station. It's highly effective, but also very shallow. The corpses, the suffering; It's all happening to Just Another Model. Some emphasis on character development might have provided the emotional attachment needed to make a truly involving experience, but psychology is not exactly what Doom 3 is about. See the evil, shoot the demons, move on. The world it does create, however, is rarely broken. Interacting with computer terminals takes place in situ - your crosshair simply becoming a cursor on the screen - and the first person viewpoint is only broken during the short cutscenes and when checking story details via the PDA. Even as you yourself are driven insane by the forces of Hell, the hallucinations are shown through your own eyes.
In Conclusion
Put aside the graphics for a moment (yes, I know it's hard) and you're left with... Doom. The slight nod to modern gaming techniques, in the form of occasional character interaction and the loss of coloured keys, is a step backward to the pre-Half-Life era, and all the visual splendour means enemy count is more Quake than Sam. As a game, it's really nothing special. As a technology demo, it's groundbreaking. And as an experience...
It's Doom. All over again.
| Pump Action |
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| Cacodemons |
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| Final Score |
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| Nearly out of Ammo |
| Like going for a midnight snack and accidentally treading on the cat: Short, dark, shocking, and ultimately unfulfilling. |
