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.
