Doom Eternal: Rip and Tear and Start Again
Images courtesy of Bethesda
There’s a large number of videogames that can be boiled down to three core actions: moving, jumping and killing. Mario moves, jumps and stomps turtles back into their shells, which he then kicks into the faces of other turtles. Ryu paces back and forth in wide-open yet weirdly confined spaces while slowly punching and kicking the consciousness out of friend and foe alike—sometimes while jumping. Doomguy, or the Doom Slayer, or just The Slayer, has to stay in constant motion, both on the ground and in the air, lest he be killed while in the process of slaughtering wholesale populations of demons.
I’m going to talk about that last one. I’m going to talk about the Doomguy. Ol’ Doomerino.
Doom Eternal loves the moving and the jumping. I am not generally a Doom man—younger me felt the original sent games as a concept spinning off into the conjoined shitty paths of thinking violence equals maturity and that heavy metal made with computers is actually listenable—but Doom Eternal is one of the least Doom-like Dooms I’ve ever Doomed. It’s also 100% certified Doom, just like a pure unfiltered toot of the totality of Doom. No, these thoughts don’t contradict each other.
What could be more Doom than chewing through a Monster Manual full of different demons, almost all of which combine human corpses and guns in fun and innovative ways, while hunting down Hell Priests through an Earth that’s been scarred and twisted into a frightening mockery of itself? What could be more Doom than spontaneously generating more bullets by running a chainsaw through a shambling hell beast’s engorged guts? What could be more Doom than feeling like I’m at a rave at a shooting range inside a Dio album cover? What could be more Doom than Doom Eternal?
And yet here I am, not killing things for minutes at a time. Here I am, jumping from ledge to ledge, swinging off bars like a gymnast, dashing through the air, and trying to angle it just right so I can grab onto the side of a mountain that’s conveniently jagged enough for me to get a good grip on. Here I am exploring, looking for permanent power-ups and other secrets, like I’m a roid rage version of Samus Aran. And I’m doing it a lot. This Doom has more on its mind than just wanton destruction—there’s also some wanton rambling around going down.