Editorials
‘Doom 64’ Feels Like a Low-Poly Tribute to Ray Harryhausen
Doom 64, which recently received a port to PS4, Xbox One, Switch and PC and was bundled with Doom Eternal as a preorder bonus, is a classic creature feature in video game form.
The only Doom game developed outside of id Software, Doom 64 was farmed out to Midway while Doom’s creators were hard at work on Quake II. Many players assumed the 1997 game was a port of the original Doom— after all, the SNES received a straight Doom port four years earlier. But, playing the game for any length of time reveals something quite different and more ambitious.
Doom 64 is an unholy fusion combining the level design philosophy of Doom and Doom II: Hell on Earth with the 3D graphics afforded by the N64’s 64-bit GPU.

The result is a complete reimagining of Doom’s odiously fleshy menagerie. Adrian Carmack’s original pixel art designs gave the Doom series one of the most memorable bestiaries in all of gaming. The bulbous pink cacodemon. The spiky, brown, fire-hurling imp. The gruesome spiderdemon; a mass of brains mounted on an eight-legged Gatling gun. All wonderfully imaginative and impressively timeless — these demons have all returned in fully-realized HD form in Doom Eternal.
Doom 64 becomes all the more fascinating in retrospect. Carmack’s designs for Doom and Doom II are memorable, but primitive, and each game from Doom 3 onward has embraced increasingly high fidelity realism (that is, whatever realism means when demon guts are the thing being rendered). Doom 64 is a fascinating lost chapter; a footnote in the story of our photoreal present. While its graphics were almost certainly seen as a step forward at the time, with the benefit of hindsight, they’re maybe more accurately viewed as a step sideways.

One effect of the weirdness of early 3D graphics is that Doom 64’s demons have added polygons but no added realism. Instead, they read as an embrace of stop-motion; an artificial attempt at recreating the jerky tactility of 1933’s King Kong or 1954’s Godzilla. Doom 64’s creatures move in more or less the same way as the demons of Doom and Doom II, cycling through animations with little in the way of transition between sprites. But here their bodies appear to be built out of clay or rubber.
The roster splits the difference between Adrian Carmack and Ray Harryhausen.
As a result, Doom 64, more than maybe any other Doom game, feels like it has roots in effects-driven horror. Id Software has long described Doom as a mash-up of Aliens and Evil Dead 2, and that combination was never more obvious than in Doom 64; the one game in the series whose monsters wouldn’t look out of place in a classic horror film.
Editorials
André Øvredal’s ‘Troll Hunter’ Remains One of the Best Found Footage Movies
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.

Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.

Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.

A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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