I Heart Painkiller
Mar 21st, 2008 by jacob.pederson
At first glance, the Painkiller series of first person shooters are a
mindless romp through fluttering bloody giblets garnished with the
occasional demure demonic locale. At second or third glance, you might
be moderately nauseated by a female lead character who dresses herself
in the morning by patiently gluing stands of polygonal hair to her
stone hard nipples. I suggest skipping the cut scenes. In fact, lets
go with deleting the cut scenes, and running them through your basic
freeware bit-shredder. Feels better doesn't it? I'm on my fifth or
sixth glance for the first two games currently, topping off the
experience with the eighty-four minute loading screens of Battle out
of Hell (dun dun dun). This time through, I realized that I've spent
more time with the Painkiller engine than any other first person
shooter. There gotta be something going on here. Doesn't there?
First person shooters are all about the guns. Your gun is your
interface. Your gun is your friend. Nothing is worse than mouse
wheeling out with that same decadently unoriginal assault rifle or the
fabulously infinite but slightly defrosted pea shooter for the
billionth time or so, all while playing as the flirtatious assault
marine of doomcry shooter 4. Ok, maybe there is something worse,
realistic weapons . . . but we won't go there. It's no accident that
Painkiller contains three of my all time favorite fps weapons, it's
devastating helpings of plain ole developer lovin. First, the
pneumatic sling stakegun, aided by one of the first truly great
applications of the still young Havok physics engine. Not only does
the stake gun contain more badass manhood power than the entire
Spartan army, but it requires considerable skill to score a hit on
anything more mobile than the broadside of a barn. I didn't really
begin to get the hang of it until the fourth play through. The six
foot long wooden ballistic is more spear than stake, flying with a
ever-so-subtle arc and bursting into all-fucking-holy-fire if fired
over range. There is nothing more satisfying in PC gaming than letting
fly with the wood rocket at a dead run and nailing a partially
decomposed corpse head to the wall from two hundred yards. Oh, and did
I mention it also lobs grenades?
Additionally, in lieu of your standard issue infinite squashy pea
tosser, Painkiller does not disappoint with its title and default
weapon, the painkiller. Simply holding this weapon is enough to
promote invariable artistic envy, although your first thought is
likely to be what the hell is this thing, mommy? Your primary fire
button starts up the spin attack, which falls somewhere between
chainsaw and airplane propeller. Pressing secondary fire after
achieving spin-up launches off the whole gyroscoping contraption into
a nearby standing crowd of hellspawn, demon children, or mall
shoppers. Dodging meat chunks is optional. But, Tom Waits! that's not
all! Pressing secondary fire by itself, lets loose the deadly tip of
the painkiller, which will pick up your average 350 pound biker dude
and suck his lifeless corpse directly into your face. Miss with this
plan, and the painkiller's tip sticks to a wall or floor. Keeping the
tip aligned with its base produces a beam of true destruction, tearing
through all flesh in its path. If you've been keeping count, that
comes to four strategic options on the pea shooter replacement. One
more thing though. Even if you've picked up the bigger and better
weapons, you may still map the painkiller to any key you wish,
unleashing its holy exotica without even bothering to switch weapons.
And if that doesn't do it for you, you shouldn't be playing FPSes!
My third favorite weapon has more to do with simple design that
strategic options. The electrodriver is just so . . . Steampunk
fucking Ninja. It looks like a cross between a robopeacock, a Japanese
fan, and Philip K. Dick's typewriter. Primary fire turns out a misty
stream of shurikens likely to turn enemy and bystander alike into
artsy pincushions. Secondary fire sends out an arc of chain lighting
sure to bring any dance party crowd into an intimately twitchy
relationship with conductivity. Extremely boss.
Any painkiller treatise would be amiss to go without mentioning the
games outright athleticism requirements (one reason for its appearance
in the Cyberathlete Professional League 2005 tournament). To put it
mildly, pansies need not apply. Painkiller expects you to be able to
double leap from the ground, ricochet off a railing and a moderately
unstable dumpster lid, to reach destinations which might call for say,
a blue key, in other games. I might also mention the requirement of
balancing your collision box on cables 3 pixels wide, stretched out
over thousand foot drops into industrial wastelands. Then there is the
prancing requirement. Constant and perfectly timed leaping is a must
in many combat sequences. Masters of the unholy strafe jumping modus
operandi of Quake 1 will do well here. Rocket jumping comes in handy
also, all while dodging tank projectiles, chunks of zombie limbs,
poison gas clouds, silently screaming disney witches of slow
blindness, and, of course, the endless onslaught of hell's own minions
and dance squads. Keep in mind that that description fits the game's
default difficulty setting. I wouldn't really know about the upper
levels of difficulty. Perhaps impromtu choreography for razor blade
tap shoes while juggling moonbeans enter into it.
Athleticism and suffering is all good thick gravy, but level design is
where you pickup your gameplay protein. Although Painkiller can't
match the beachhead assault on Nova Prospekt, it does contain several
of my all time favorite mashups. For example, we have the Asylum
level, opening with a pivotal scene in which you face off the spooky
haunted structure one on one. You wander the grounds wondering what
possible vile filth might reside within, finally discovering the
inevitable Han Solo door. A standout moment for this level is the
attic scene. It's always been tough to be truly scary in games, and
no, slithering down the narrative sewer pipes into boo-land does not
count, ID. FPS games whose claim to fame is throwing monsters at you
till your blue in the trigger finger have it even worse. Ironically
it's much easier to be silly (Serious Sam) in the mass murder genre,
than truly disturbing. These caveats turn People Can Fly's achievement
in that attic scene into a genre busting consummation of horror. The
keys are scene development, pacing, and character design. In that
bepenticled attack you'll find your self hopping right out of your
squashy chair to escape the leering eyes and lurching attacks of the
asylums undead residents. Trust me.
No mater how much I might want too. I simply can't give away the
premise of Painkiller's last level. It's that good. I simply can't
ruin it. So you better persevere through Painkillers crash-prone
engine and turd cutscenes to make it there yourself. Many put the game
down foolishly. I know I did. Piece of advice though. Don't worry too
much about the end boss, he's a dirty cheater, and he knows it.
Addition:
I gotta disagree with Yahtzee on the soul spawns. The reason that
they take so long to pop out is so you have to think strategically
about crowd control. In order to successfully collect souls from
large groups, you'll need to be able to lead them around in a circle,
so that you may start consuming souls from earlier kills while
continuing your spree. Vicious.
Mar 21st, 2008 by jacob.pederson
At first glance, the Painkiller series of first person shooters are a
mindless romp through fluttering bloody giblets garnished with the
occasional demure demonic locale. At second or third glance, you might
be moderately nauseated by a female lead character who dresses herself
in the morning by patiently gluing stands of polygonal hair to her
stone hard nipples. I suggest skipping the cut scenes. In fact, lets
go with deleting the cut scenes, and running them through your basic
freeware bit-shredder. Feels better doesn't it? I'm on my fifth or
sixth glance for the first two games currently, topping off the
experience with the eighty-four minute loading screens of Battle out
of Hell (dun dun dun). This time through, I realized that I've spent
more time with the Painkiller engine than any other first person
shooter. There gotta be something going on here. Doesn't there?
First person shooters are all about the guns. Your gun is your
interface. Your gun is your friend. Nothing is worse than mouse
wheeling out with that same decadently unoriginal assault rifle or the
fabulously infinite but slightly defrosted pea shooter for the
billionth time or so, all while playing as the flirtatious assault
marine of doomcry shooter 4. Ok, maybe there is something worse,
realistic weapons . . . but we won't go there. It's no accident that
Painkiller contains three of my all time favorite fps weapons, it's
devastating helpings of plain ole developer lovin. First, the
pneumatic sling stakegun, aided by one of the first truly great
applications of the still young Havok physics engine. Not only does
the stake gun contain more badass manhood power than the entire
Spartan army, but it requires considerable skill to score a hit on
anything more mobile than the broadside of a barn. I didn't really
begin to get the hang of it until the fourth play through. The six
foot long wooden ballistic is more spear than stake, flying with a
ever-so-subtle arc and bursting into all-fucking-holy-fire if fired
over range. There is nothing more satisfying in PC gaming than letting
fly with the wood rocket at a dead run and nailing a partially
decomposed corpse head to the wall from two hundred yards. Oh, and did
I mention it also lobs grenades?
Additionally, in lieu of your standard issue infinite squashy pea
tosser, Painkiller does not disappoint with its title and default
weapon, the painkiller. Simply holding this weapon is enough to
promote invariable artistic envy, although your first thought is
likely to be what the hell is this thing, mommy? Your primary fire
button starts up the spin attack, which falls somewhere between
chainsaw and airplane propeller. Pressing secondary fire after
achieving spin-up launches off the whole gyroscoping contraption into
a nearby standing crowd of hellspawn, demon children, or mall
shoppers. Dodging meat chunks is optional. But, Tom Waits! that's not
all! Pressing secondary fire by itself, lets loose the deadly tip of
the painkiller, which will pick up your average 350 pound biker dude
and suck his lifeless corpse directly into your face. Miss with this
plan, and the painkiller's tip sticks to a wall or floor. Keeping the
tip aligned with its base produces a beam of true destruction, tearing
through all flesh in its path. If you've been keeping count, that
comes to four strategic options on the pea shooter replacement. One
more thing though. Even if you've picked up the bigger and better
weapons, you may still map the painkiller to any key you wish,
unleashing its holy exotica without even bothering to switch weapons.
And if that doesn't do it for you, you shouldn't be playing FPSes!
My third favorite weapon has more to do with simple design that
strategic options. The electrodriver is just so . . . Steampunk
fucking Ninja. It looks like a cross between a robopeacock, a Japanese
fan, and Philip K. Dick's typewriter. Primary fire turns out a misty
stream of shurikens likely to turn enemy and bystander alike into
artsy pincushions. Secondary fire sends out an arc of chain lighting
sure to bring any dance party crowd into an intimately twitchy
relationship with conductivity. Extremely boss.
Any painkiller treatise would be amiss to go without mentioning the
games outright athleticism requirements (one reason for its appearance
in the Cyberathlete Professional League 2005 tournament). To put it
mildly, pansies need not apply. Painkiller expects you to be able to
double leap from the ground, ricochet off a railing and a moderately
unstable dumpster lid, to reach destinations which might call for say,
a blue key, in other games. I might also mention the requirement of
balancing your collision box on cables 3 pixels wide, stretched out
over thousand foot drops into industrial wastelands. Then there is the
prancing requirement. Constant and perfectly timed leaping is a must
in many combat sequences. Masters of the unholy strafe jumping modus
operandi of Quake 1 will do well here. Rocket jumping comes in handy
also, all while dodging tank projectiles, chunks of zombie limbs,
poison gas clouds, silently screaming disney witches of slow
blindness, and, of course, the endless onslaught of hell's own minions
and dance squads. Keep in mind that that description fits the game's
default difficulty setting. I wouldn't really know about the upper
levels of difficulty. Perhaps impromtu choreography for razor blade
tap shoes while juggling moonbeans enter into it.
Athleticism and suffering is all good thick gravy, but level design is
where you pickup your gameplay protein. Although Painkiller can't
match the beachhead assault on Nova Prospekt, it does contain several
of my all time favorite mashups. For example, we have the Asylum
level, opening with a pivotal scene in which you face off the spooky
haunted structure one on one. You wander the grounds wondering what
possible vile filth might reside within, finally discovering the
inevitable Han Solo door. A standout moment for this level is the
attic scene. It's always been tough to be truly scary in games, and
no, slithering down the narrative sewer pipes into boo-land does not
count, ID. FPS games whose claim to fame is throwing monsters at you
till your blue in the trigger finger have it even worse. Ironically
it's much easier to be silly (Serious Sam) in the mass murder genre,
than truly disturbing. These caveats turn People Can Fly's achievement
in that attic scene into a genre busting consummation of horror. The
keys are scene development, pacing, and character design. In that
bepenticled attack you'll find your self hopping right out of your
squashy chair to escape the leering eyes and lurching attacks of the
asylums undead residents. Trust me.
No mater how much I might want too. I simply can't give away the
premise of Painkiller's last level. It's that good. I simply can't
ruin it. So you better persevere through Painkillers crash-prone
engine and turd cutscenes to make it there yourself. Many put the game
down foolishly. I know I did. Piece of advice though. Don't worry too
much about the end boss, he's a dirty cheater, and he knows it.
Addition:
I gotta disagree with Yahtzee on the soul spawns. The reason that
they take so long to pop out is so you have to think strategically
about crowd control. In order to successfully collect souls from
large groups, you'll need to be able to lead them around in a circle,
so that you may start consuming souls from earlier kills while
continuing your spree. Vicious.
