Oh, Dead Space. You truly are a game to remember. You’re the first game I ever played where decapitation wasn’t the monster killing strategy. Your version of jumpscares somehow, somehow, didn’t get old to me. You never lost sight of what you were truly trying to be: a survival horror game set in the monumental expanse of space.
So why did you stray from your golden path? Why did you put more emphasis on the guns and the thrill of shooting as you advanced your series instead of finding more clever ways to terrify your audience? Why did you sacrifice environment and monster designs for what appears to be just like any other action shooter? You had a good thing going, Dead Space, a real good thing. Shame on you.
Now, I get it. Not everyone agrees with what I’m about to say. Some people really enjoy action shooters, and the inclusion of monsters only fuels the fire of passion in their little gamer hearts. I’m not ragging on those people. What I am doing is letting you all know how disappointed I am with such a great game falling hard enough to become a generic shmup.
Don’t get me wrong, this game has shooting. A lot of shooting. But the difference between it and its unfortunate successors is that the focus is not on upgrading your shooty-bangs or customizing your appearance to look more like a badass walking cavalry. The only reason you have guns is to defend yourself – yeah, self-defense. You don’t do any of the instigating, here, you’re more of a victim in this situation.
You play Isaac Clarke, an engineer stranded inside the Ishimura accompanied by chief security officer Zach Hammond and technology specialist Kendra Daniels. You came because of a distress call and found the ship, the USG Ishimura, dead in the water. But mechanical malfunctions aren’t the only problems abound – you might end up being more concerned about the ravenous alien flesh-eaters writhing around and drooling in the ventilation system.
One of my favorite things about this game is its atmosphere. The creaking metal and hissing steam, the rumbling of the engine through the walls, the ticking and scratching of bony claws from the infected crew inside the vents – that’s right, the monsters infesting the ship? They were the crew. Once you know this, you can’t unhear the pained human moan under the gurgling screeching. Oh, and you know what’s better than grotesque mutated humanoids? One massive, amorphous, 10-kiloton amalgamation of once-human flesh known as the Leviathan. You’ll find that one poisoning the ship’s atmosphere snugly from the bowels of hydroponics.
The variety of monsters is endearing to me – well, as endearing as reanimated human corpses with a serious case of psoriasis can be. There are fifteen unique necromorph designs in the game, each type with their own name (slasher, leaper, lurker, brute, infector, etc.) and easily distinguishable features. They aren’t cookie cutter designs, monsters that try to look different but are only a color swap of the original like that weird coworker that didn’t get the message about the costume party. However, they all have two things in common: they were once human beings, and they can be taken down with a good ol’ downsizing of the limbs. And there’s definitely many ways for our silent protagonist Isaac to get it done.
The USG Ishimura is what the game calls a Planet Cracker vessel, as in its main purpose is to bore into barren planets and mine out resources. It goes without saying that there would be mining equipment aboard said ship, right? All of the weapons that Isaac finds and uses on the Ishimura are conceivably used for mining - the plasma cutter is a laser shot (and it, well, cuts), the ripper is essentially a chainsaw, the force gun is a powerful pushing tool, and so on. Don’t be fooled by the miniature arsenal – indiscriminate shooting is not wise, as an attack that works on one monster can make things even harder against another (I’m talking about the fat ones that explode into a swarm of tiny grappling crawlers if you puncture their bellies).
Dead Space is great. It’s a great game. And I’d love to say the same about the next installment. Tune in to hear how the changes in second and (mostly) third parts of the trilogy led to the series’ downfall.