This is the first in a series of short musings on Control.
When I want to write about a game I like, it takes way longer than you might think. There’s an obsession to assemble an artwork of words that befits the title, something that feels as unique as the experience it delivered. That process never feels like a natural consequence of a great game; it’s not as if a game is an untapped seam of minerals and all I had to do was mine it for words. I’m looking for an essay that gives me peace, that looks like I’ve bled the memory directly onto the page. Write. Delete. Write. Delete. Go to bed. Format the drive. Start again.
I feel some remorse over my brutal carelessness towards a game which inspires derision. I can be cavalier with the words as all you have to do is swing that axe and the job is done. But what about the shrug game, the “meh”? How much brain juice needs to be expended on something that’s, uh, okay, I suppose? I will send my finest soldiers to the four corners of the world in search of exotic prose that conjures the most average of reactions. Now that’s real tricky, I think, as I write up my feelings after three hours of Control (Remedy Entertainment, 2019).
I am not a big follower of $$$ games. When Control punctured my Twitter filter bubble, it earned my curiosity and, in time, my money. Control seemed right up my street – a secretive agency that takes care of “objects of power” and deals with “altered world events” – and I hadn’t really dabbled in chunky, high-powered game fare since Prey (Arkane Studios, 2017) which I adored for the superb freedom it granted explorers.
I bought Control a month ago but my current long-term project is Stephen’s Sausage Roll (Increpare Games, 2016) a Sokobanesque puzzler that has overrun my mind with babble about the grilling and the rolling and the grilling and the rolling and that’s enough, thank you. Something allowed me to break free of their grip and install Control two days ago. More shockingly, I even play it.
It takes forever and a day to start but the surface impressions are good. I don’t have one of them fancy RTX cards so it was no ray-tracing for me – yet it still looks terrific. I make the mistake of using the high settings which leads to a juddering in the motion which I would not describe as cinematic, more of a Summon Vomit spell. I scale back to medium settings soon enough.
Control’s camera swishes us through the glass doors of the lobby and then Control hands us control of the protagonist, Jesse. I spend a long time just gazing out into the street. Those strictly off-limits spaces which are designed to the hilt and filled with activity are Electron Dance catnip. I know just beyond the farthest visual reach of the glass wall there is void; I’m permitted to see a studio lot with objects following through their well-rehearsed script. But I don’t care, I love that attention to detail.
And I scurry around the abandoned lobby, examining every small detail, the alarms on the wall, the items on the desk, the grooves in the ceiling. Are you the person who put that there? I am there for you. Thank you for your service. The quiet, detailed office environment reminds me of the opening segment of INFRA (Loiste Interactive, 2016) in which all you do is potter around an office, generally trying to find a way out as people block the way and electronic doors “malfunction”. Control begins to unpack a little story and I admit I liked the little flourish of “the real world is behind the poster” from The Shawshank Redemption which is then realised in Control’s level structure if you’re paying attention.
Control wastes no time suggesting this building, “The Oldest House”, has a fluid structure, as I find myself walking back the way I came despite having been walking forwards the whole time. This introductory section is not mindblowing but it is delicious with a side order of creepy. I spend too much time staring at the alarms. The alarms are wonderful.
But I cannot stave off my transformation forever; slowly I change from a student of environment design to a player with a mission. I cannot ignore the HUD forever and when I see the HUD, the HUD also gazes into me.
There is a gun. I have a gun. Possessed people are attacking me, I shoot them. And it’s fine. The first big surprise is that I die easily. The second big surprise is that the checkpoints – yes, sir, checkpoints – are, uh, a bit farther back than I would like considering how often I get bulleted to death. The third surprise is how long I have to wait while it reloads the checkpoint… I mean, Holy Rip Van Winkle, Batman. Are there more surprises? I’m not sure I would collate the other revelations under the surprise column.
The truth is Control is losing my attention. The environment continues to be lovely to poke around but some areas controlled by our designated evil enemy, The Hiss, are bathed in red and are not as interesting to study. When you kick out The Hiss, the space reverts to a normal office palette, looking more lived in and less Christmas lights overheating.
I need explain something about my recent addiction to The Magnus Archives. TMA is a podcast in which an archivist commits reports of supernatural happenings to tape, stories that were submitted to The Magnus Institute for posterity. And slowly, ever so slowly, it becomes clear these apparently separate tales are actually part of something much more sinister… TMA is complex and to identify and comprehend all of the connections between the various tales requires some effort – there is indeed a wiki which is too dangerous to consult as I am not even halfway through the series.
But both Control and TMA have something in common: an organisation which collects paranormal stories and, occasionally, strange objects. Control simply cannot possibly compete with the depth and slow burn of TMA. This is proving to be an issue. I rushed over to Control for the story… only to discover, after crawling behind the poster, I was already having a better time where I was.
And the HUD is full of collectibles, story snippets and upgrades – the administrative bureaucracy of the modern $$$ game, which I’ll get used to I suppose. It’s always a little daunting when you see rows of empty tabs and empty scrollable lists, eagerly waiting for deliveries of stuff from the player’s explorations.
There are many locked doors which I assume I will get access to later. This fills me with dread because a lot of Control looks quite similar and I am not sure I am into sweeping through old areas looking for locked doors. Prey had a similar setup which was wild because of its open design, but I had little trouble making mental notes about areas I needed to return to. I’ve barely made progress in Control and I am already having difficulty remembering where and what.
I could write more, but perhaps I would just end up saying less. You may ask me questions in the comments. Perhaps I will answer them, too. I will write more when I feel I have more to impart. I can confirm that Control is 100% in the shrug zone and, while that’s not great, it’s not a bad thing. It really isn’t.
Next: Use of Weapons