2016's Doom didn't need a sequel. I will never whine about receiving more Doom, but that game was damn near flawless. The art design was amazing, the campaign had the perfect length, and the lightning-quick combat was a breath of fresh air for the FPS genre. In my entry on the game I complained about its linearity and some other issues, but time away from Doom has reduced those gripes to background noise. Doom was a juggernaut that blew nearly everyone away, and repeated playthroughs has cemented it as one of my favorite shooters of all time.
So when Doom Eternal was announced, I was more intrigued than I was ecstatic. The gameplay was perfect, so what else could id Software add? Perhaps if they made the stages more non-linear, removed the self-serious cutscenes, and expanded the multiplayer, then I could see how Doom Eternal could rise above the Olympic heights set by its predecessor. The game wouldn't be nearly as revolutionary—there was no way of that happening—but I would definitely be down to play a more polished Doom clone.
Yet in the end, id Software did none of those things—in fact they did the exact opposite. Doom Eternal is more restrictive, more self-serious, and does away with the traditional deathmatch experience. What skeletal remains there were of the original '90s series have been further discarded, forging Doom Eternal into its own strange, nasty little thing. So I can't in all honesty claim that Doom Eternal is a better game than 2016's Doom... but I think I like it more.
What I love about Doom Eternal is simple: the gameplay is nuts. Not only is Eternal faster on every front, but it's far deadlier as well, mercilessly punishing the player for missteps and careless gambles. Doom's difficulty tended to peter off in its latter half, but Eternal pressures the player for the entire game, keeping a blazing inferno lit under their ass. And it's not just that the enemies hit harder and are more aggressive; you'll be required to use your entire arsenal if you want to avoid joining the ranks of the dead. The ammo cap has been massively reduced, meaning you'll have to constantly rely on chainsawing through fodder demons to restock your weapons. Grenades serve a much larger role this time around (I forgot they were even in Doom!), providing a burst of damage & stun when the player needs it most. There's also a flamethrower and power-punch to refill armor and health respectively; if you haven't been keeping track, this is a lot of additional keys to hit.
The new abilities radically change Doom's combat from a free-form death ballet to a chaotic weapon juggling brawl. It's still possible to get to the point where you're untouchable, but reaching that zen state requires a lot more work than it did in 2016's Doom. Here you'll need to learn how to switch away from your weapon while it's on cooldown, seek out weaker foes when you're in need of munitions, and utilize enemy weaknesses to rob them of their strongest attacks. Doom Eternal's fights are rigid—so rigid that the most memorable thing to come out of the game is an infamous nemesis that can only be harmed when his eyes glow green. I was terrified of the aforementioned Marauder during my first playthrough, but he really does help to teach how Doom Eternal prioritizes what you need over what you want. At the beginning you'll probably find yourself wishing that you could hold more ammo or that the arachnatron wasn't such a bullet sponge, but you'll come to realize Doom Eternal shines brightest when you have to use every tool in your arsenal to survive.
A lot of folks are quick to mention the ammo drought, enemy weaknesses, or implacable Marauder as the biggest shake-up to Doom's formula, but that honor belongs to the best upgrade in the game: the dash. No longer must the Slayer dance around an enemy in the hopes their fireball will miss—dashing affords Doomguy a new dimension of control, letting him skirt dangerous attacks and rapidly close in for a glory kill. Seriously, the dash is a remarkable improvement that transforms the player from a scrambling ranger into a blazing-fast buzz saw of bullets. There is no doubt in my mind that without the dash, Doom Eternal would be the inferior experience compared to its older sibling. With it however, Eternal has evolved the series into a veritable FPS/character action game hybrid—and it rules.
I immensely enjoyed my time with Doom Eternal, but that's by and large because I learned to play by its rules. I found the demands inherit in its gameplay to be intriguing and rewarding rather than complicated and limiting. Plus I adored how ferocious the combat had become—especially on Nightmare, where being struck by two enemies at once is basically lethal. But by narrowing down its audience, I don't think I can comfortably call Doom Eternal a better game than its predecessor. In many ways Doom was the ultimate FPS power fantasy: despite the chunky gore and grim atmosphere, it was a welcoming experience that let you kick off your shoes and slay some hellspawn. Doom Eternal on the other hand is relentlessly austere, both in its gameplay and its lore.
I immensely enjoyed my time with Doom Eternal, but that's by and large because I learned to play by its rules. I found the demands inherit in its gameplay to be intriguing and rewarding rather than complicated and limiting. Plus I adored how ferocious the combat had become—especially on Nightmare, where being struck by two enemies at once is basically lethal. But by narrowing down its audience, I don't think I can comfortably call Doom Eternal a better game than its predecessor. In many ways Doom was the ultimate FPS power fantasy: despite the chunky gore and grim atmosphere, it was a welcoming experience that let you kick off your shoes and slay some hellspawn. Doom Eternal on the other hand is relentlessly austere, both in its gameplay and its lore.
And I totally understand—id Software was at impasse. Although they could've continued with a light-hearted "Hell on Earth" storyline, I think the plot would've suffered from a "been there, done that" feeling. Instead they dove even deeper into the lore, weaving a sci-fi tale about two clans of aliens and their history with Hell. Surprisingly, I didn't mind the focus on the Sentinels and Hell Priests, partly because I like how stupidly in-depth it was, and also because 2016's Doom had primed me on what to expect. I think the story of the previous game is more captivating—especially because you don't need to look into the lore to comprehend it—but Doom Eternal manages to stand on its own... for the most part (prepare for a lot more cutscenes you have no control over).
Almost everything else about Doom Eternal is on par with 2016's Doom. The progression system offers a lot of variability, the changes made to the weapons are excellent (the super shotgun meathook is a godsend), and the visuals are constantly captivating—an endgame area sticks out in particular, being one of the coolest and most unique alien worlds I've had the pleasure of rampaging through. There's no singular track that reaches the heights of BFG Division, but there are plenty heart-pounding, foot-tapping tunes that are guaranteed to get the blood surging through your veins. And lastly, I uh... have no idea how well the multiplayer holds up. The single player campaign was all I needed, and it fulfilled its purpose very well.
Doom Eternal isn't just more Doom—it's Doom-on-steroids. Some really big, demonic gut-ripping steroids. The game provides you with a lot of flashy tools and then warns that they are there for your survival, not entertainment. You can still flaunt your battle prowess, playing with imps and cacodemons as if they were newborn kittens, but the journey to get to that stage will be a lot more taxing. And honestly, some may not be ready for that. 2016's Doom remains the better game on the principle that it's the easier title to get into, but Doom Eternal managed to do the impossible: it improved on an already immaculate combat system. Eternal is a fearsome, chaotic, energizing beast—and I loved loved loved all three of my playthroughs of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment