Connect with us

Editorials

Why ‘Control’ is at its Best When it Puts the Guns Down

Published

on

Ever since the release of Max Payne, it was clear that Remedy Games was capable of creating a satisfying combat loop. Control (Bloody Disgusting’s Game of 2019) is no exception, giving players a delightful combination of tight gunplay and entertaining powers that keep the combat encounters fresh even when the enemy variety isn’t the strongest. There’s a smart design decision that ties both the gun ammo and powers to separate meters that recharge individually, forcing you to swap between them while waiting for one to refill, creating a symphony of chaos. Throwing up a shield, blasting away with your Service Weapons, then hurling a desk at a crowd of people while levitating away to a higher ground will always be satisfying.

As much as I love that loop, it’s not my favorite element of Control. What stands out to me the most is the unique mood it creates through a combination of setting and world-building. Your journey through Control takes you to strange parts of the seemingly boring brutalist building known only as the Oldest House. In my opinion, Control is at its most interesting when these missions take your gun away and force you to contend solely with the weird and wonderful world it presents.

—–SPOILERS FOR CONTROL—-

Even though the game grabbed me right out of the gate, the first time I sat up and said “this game is something special” was the first time I pulled an out of place light switch cord and was transported to the simple, yet enigmatic Oceanview Motel. It’s one of the first times where the game takes away your powers and gun, instead, focusing on puzzle solving. It’s a jarring move at first, but eventually seeing that light switch cord elicited a Pavlovian response in me, getting me ready for another moment of brilliant surrealism. 

In fiction, the Oceanview Motel is a “Place of Power” that acts as an interdimensional travel hub. Notes in the game describe how it was first accessed during an Altered World Event in 1992 when the aforementioned light switch cord was discovered to be at the center of a series of disappearances in Butte, Montana. Agents discovered that the cord transported them to the Oceanview after being pulled three times, and performing a ritual there allowed them to open a mysterious door with an inverted black pyramid, transporting them to the Oldest House. 


The Oceanview operates entirely on dream logic, creating some of the most interesting puzzles outside of early Silent Hill games. Much like P.T., you revisit this same space over and over again, with things subtly changing, challenging you to figure out the obtuse ‘ritual’ needed to get the key for the black pyramid door. With no combat possible, it’s clear that you can only progress by observing and interacting with the environment. It never explicitly tells you how to get through, but it does a smart job of communicating solutions without being obvious. 

The first time you go there, the only thing you can touch is a bell at the front desk. Since you got there by pulling the cord three times, you can make the leap that maybe everything here operates by threes. Ring the bell three times and a door opens giving you the key. A later iteration, one of my favorite Oceanview puzzles, involves you going between nearly identical rooms, adjusting things to make them the same, again without communicating directly that this is what you need to do. In a world where most “puzzles” involve just finding the right key for the right door, it’s refreshing to have a game not only give you something to rack your brain, but also trusts you to be able to make logical leaps. If you still had access to your powers here, you would likely be searching for a solution with those, so limiting your verbs lets you engage with the surreal setting in a direct way. 

The final chapter in Control uses these limits to outstanding effect, playing with the conventions of the video game medium itself to make its point. After the rollercoaster ride of the Ashtray Maze and the seemingly climactic release of Polaris, the player is transported to an average, day-to-day version of the offices in the Oldest House, casting protagonist Jesse as an office assistant. Sticky notes on a corkboard tell you to do menial tasks like picking up coffee cups and scanning forms, which is oddly reflected in your mission log. As the player, you know this is wrong, but you perform these tasks anyway as Jesse slowly comes to the realization of what’s going on, changing your objectives as you go. It’s a beautiful illustration of how you can take the language of video games to communicate something about the mindset of the character. 

Control is a rare game that can do different ends of the spectrum extremely well. While the Ashtray Maze is a memorable adrenaline rush likely to end up on several “Best Gaming Moments of 2019” lists, quiet moments like the Oceanview Motel are what end up staying with me the most. The lore notes of the game communicate a strange and wonderful tone, and the moments where they take away the action and force you to interact with the world directly allow you to fully live out that tone through gameplay, rather than getting the information secondhand.

Game Designer, Tabletop RPG GM, and comic book aficionado.

Editorials

‘Leprechaun Returns’ – The Charm of the Franchise’s Legacy Sequel

Published

on

leprechaun returns

The erratic Leprechaun franchise is not known for sticking with a single concept for too long. The namesake (originally played by Warwick Davis) has gone to L.A., Las Vegas, space, and the ‘hood (not once but twice). And after an eleven-year holiday since the Davis era ended, the character received a drastic makeover in a now-unmentionable reboot. The critical failure of said film would have implied it was time to pack away the green top hat and shillelagh, and say goodbye to the nefarious imp. Instead, the Leprechaun series tried its luck again.

The general consensus for the Leprechaun films was never positive, and the darker yet blander Leprechaun: Origins certainly did not sway opinions. Just because the 2014 installment took itself seriously did not mean viewers would. After all, creator Mark Jones conceived a gruesome horror-comedy back in the early nineties, and that format is what was expected of any future ventures. So as horror legacy sequels (“legacyquels”) became more common in the 2010s, Leprechaun Returns followed suit while also going back to what made the ‘93 film work. This eighth entry echoed Halloween (2018) by ignoring all the previous sequels as well as being a direct continuation of the original. Even ardent fans can surely understand the decision to wipe the slate clean, so to speak.

Leprechaun Returns “continued the [franchise’s] trend of not being consistent by deciding to be consistent.” The retconning of Steven Kostanski and Suzanne Keilly’s film was met with little to no pushback from the fandom, who had already become accustomed to seeing something new and different with every chapter. Only now the “new and different” was familiar. With the severe route of Origins a mere speck in the rearview mirror, director Kotanski implemented a “back to basics” approach that garnered better reception than Zach Lipovsky’s own undertaking. The one-two punch of preposterous humor and grisly horror was in full force again.

LEPRECHAUN

Pictured: Linden Porco as The Leprechaun in Leprechaun Returns.

With Warwick Davis sitting this film out — his own choice — there was the foremost challenge of finding his replacement. Returns found Davis’ successor in Linden Porco, who admirably filled those blood-stained, buckled shoes. And what would a legacy sequel be without a returning character? Jennifer Aniston obviously did not reprise her final girl role of Tory Redding. So, the film did the next best thing and fetched another of Lubdan’s past victims: Ozzie, the likable oaf played by Mark Holton. Returns also created an extension of Tory’s character by giving her a teenage daughter, Lila (Taylor Spreitler).

It has been twenty-five years since the events of the ‘93 film. The incident is unknown to all but its survivors. Interested in her late mother’s history there in Devil’s Lake, North Dakota, Lila transferred to the local university and pledged a sorority — really the only one on campus — whose few members now reside in Tory Redding’s old home. The farmhouse-turned-sorority-house is still a work in progress; Lila’s fellow Alpha Epsilon sisters were in the midst of renovating the place when a ghost of the past found its way into the present.

The Psycho Goreman and The Void director’s penchant for visceral special effects is noted early on as the Leprechaun tears not only into the modern age, but also through poor Ozzie’s abdomen. The portal from 1993 to 2018 is soaked with blood and guts as the Leprechaun forces his way into the story. Davis’ iconic depiction of the wee antagonist is missed, however, Linden Porco is not simply keeping the seat warm in case his predecessor ever resumes the part. His enthusiastic performance is accentuated by a rotten-looking mug that adds to his innate menace.

LEPRECHAUN RETURNS sequel

Pictured: Taylor Spreitler, Pepi Sonuga, and Sai Bennett as Lila, Katie and Rose in Leprechaun Returns.

The obligatory fodder is mostly young this time around. Apart from one luckless postman and Ozzie — the premature passing of the latter character removed the chance of caring about anyone in the film — the Leprechaun’s potential prey are all college aged. Lila is this story’s token trauma kid with caregiver baggage; her mother thought “monsters were always trying to get her.” Lila’s habit of mentioning Tory’s mental health problem does not make a good first impression with the resident mean girl and apparent alcoholic of the sorority, Meredith (Emily Reid). Then there are the nicer but no less cursorily written of the Alpha Epsilon gals: eco-conscious and ex-obsessive Katie (Pepi Sonuga), and uptight overachiever Rose (Sai Bennett). Rounding out the main cast are a pair of destined-to-die bros (Oliver Llewellyn Jenkins, Ben McGregor). Lila and her peers range from disposable to plain irritating, so rooting for any one of them is next to impossible. Even so, their overstated personalities make their inevitable fates more satisfying.

Where Returns excels is its death sequences. Unlike Jones’ film, this one is not afraid of killing off members of the main cast. Lila, admittedly, wears too much plot armor, yet with her mother’s spirit looming over her and the whole story — comedian Heather McDonald put her bang-on Aniston impersonation to good use as well as provided a surprisingly emotional moment in the film — her immunity can be overlooked. Still, the other characters’ brutal demises make up for Lila’s imperviousness. The Leprechaun’s killer set-pieces also happen to demonstrate the time period, seeing as he uses solar panels and a drone in several supporting characters’ executions. A premortem selfie and the antagonist’s snarky mention of global warming additionally add to this film’s particular timestamp.

Critics were quick to say Leprechaun Returns did not break new ground. Sure, there is no one jetting off to space, or the wacky notion of Lubdan becoming a record producer. This reset, however, is still quite charming and entertaining despite its lack of risk-taking. And with yet another reboot in the works, who knows where the most wicked Leprechaun ever to exist will end up next.


Horror contemplates in great detail how young people handle inordinate situations and all of life’s unexpected challenges. While the genre forces characters of every age to face their fears, it is especially interested in how youths might fare in life-or-death scenarios.

The column Young Blood is dedicated to horror stories for and about teenagers, as well as other young folks on the brink of terror.

Leprechaun Returns movie

Pictured: Linden Porco as The Leprechaun in Leprechaun Returns.

Continue Reading