Title: Doorways (Chapters 1 & 2)
Format: PC
Price: USD 9.99 (Steam)
One of the most frequently repeated pieces of advice for those writing fiction is “show, don’t tell.” In addition, one of the most common comments from critics reviewing horror film is “less is more” – in other words, it is atmosphere and the feeling of dread which fosters fear in an audience, rather than overt displays. Horror is a challenge then: show, but don’t show too much. This is a line which Doorways (Chapters 1 & 2) sets out to walk. It is admirable, but has mixed results.
For starters, it is not entirely clear who you are as the protagonist. This is not Amnesia: The Dark Descent style loss of identity; it’s not even clear whether the protagonist character does know who he is, and the game just isn’t telling you. There is a statement early on which does seem to indicate he knows who he is; it is simply that this information isn’t shared with the player (beyond a name). This mystery extends to what you’re doing, where, and why. There is a reference to “Doorways” that seems to imply it is an agency of some kind; after that, nothing. A sense of mystery can be a good thing, but in film, TV and gaming alike there is a risk in not giving the audience or player enough to engage; even great mystery characters like Doctor Who have a context.
So you start out with the mystery protagonist in a mystery location, but the game is at least determined to teach you the controls. These are simple and fairly instinctive for PC gaming – WASD for movement, space to jump, CTRL to crouch and the inventory on TAB. There are a few oddities however: Shift slows you down, rather than the more conventional run function, and menus are entirely controlled by the arrow keys and enter key. On first starting the game, I wondered if the game had a problem with my mouse as I was unable to select anything until I figured out this odd restriction. You can also enter your inventory and select an item in traditional puzzle-solving mechanisms (poke inventory item at highlighted things to trigger events), except if you have the wrong item out, there is no ‘put it away again’ key, so your redundant item hovers at the right of your screen, reminding you of your puzzle-solving ineptitude until you find the right glowing interaction point, a cut scene happens, or you die.
And die you can. The slightly woolly controls shouldn’t really impact what is at heart meant to be story and atmosphere driven – except at the start there is a section comprising one of my pet peeves: the first person, woolly control, fall-to-your-death platform jumping section. Seriously, if I wanted to hop platforms, I’d dig out my SNES and fire up Super Mario World. Dying simply causes a fade to black and a restart at the nearest checkpoint, which minimises the impact, but missing the same bit of wooden planking in near pitch black for the 7th time in a row is still wearing. There is also something not quite right with the first person view – throughout the castle level, I felt as though the protagonist was less than two feet tall, a peculiarity fixed when I moved to the farmhouse basement, but revisited in the auditorium. This does unfortunately distract from the game’s attempts to immerse you. Finally, there is the inconsistency of running. I didn’t even know the protagonist could run, until suddenly this ability unlocked in the castle, without any reason. It then disappeared again, similarly without reason, after I left the castle. It would sporadically appear and disappear thereafter.
There is some effort to vary the game’s environments, from castle to dingy farmhouse to horror movie basement to grand ‘auditorium’ (at least architecturally distinct, even if nothing like any auditorium I ever saw). The soundtrack is effective, without overusing sudden, loud minor-key chords, which are used far too often in all media to create shocks. Bar the dodgy controls and occasional odd feeling of being stunted, the game does draw you into its world. The puzzles are not challenging, but are not meant to be; they are a means to walk you through the experiences on offer, which are chilling walks through the minds of psychopaths. The farmhouse basement section in particular is very unsettling.
But this experience focus is both a strength and a flaw. By attempting to immerse you and make you experience the game’s story, rather than outright tell you, the result is the feeling of having missed something. I will avoid spoilers to the extent possible, but on completing the first chapter I was none the wiser as to what had actually happened. Perhaps this is resolved if every last collectible is located, but as many of the locations are close to total darkness (with some fatal results if you linger too long) this is not an attractive proposition.
More depth and understanding for the player may come with further chapters, and gradual exposition of a story world is a satisfying way to approach narrative, but ultimately for a story and atmosphere driven game, there is not enough to latch onto to make you want more.
This review was originally published on Fextralife.com. Used with permission
- Where’d you come from? This doesn’t look good
- Nope. Not good at all
- When the Professor asks his guests to ‘stick around,’ he really means it
- I’m glad I’m out of that castle. Perhaps I can take shelter at this warm, welcoming abode
- ‘It’s a good thing sentient human victims don’t just get up and walk away,’ thought the inventive murderer as he penned his latest design
- I don’t get it. If the Professor can impale hundreds of victims in his castle, and burn hundreds more, why did he depart to a dingy farmhouse basement to despatch future victims one-at-a-time? Bit of a step-down isn’t it? Was he demoted or something?