Hatredy Goes Away

Gaming's Image

It’s necessary to parse the Hatred Greenlight controversy without any sort of overly emotional sensationalism. Valve's suspension and ultimate reinstatement of Hatred on their Greenlight service deserves scrutiny because it reveals a lot about the gaming industry. Furthermore it’s worth examining whether or not Valve has any sort of abstract responsibility or duty as a private company towards fringe media like Hatred. I can only speculate on why Valve originally pulled Hatred beyond their explanation. If they pulled it due to the public outcry as an exception to how they normally do business, I would be comfortable to say Valve was complicit in the censorship advocated by puritans online. I have heard countless calls of removing Hatred based on it being abhorrent, it making games look bad, and that it comes at the worst possible time in games by being in close proximity to alleged death threats made by gamers against critics and developers. These calls think it fair to seek to pressure others to not purchase and sell the game based on public relations. A Polygon article on gaming’s perception said, “Gaming has a public relations problem, one so deep that parents fear the hobby will ensnare even their adult children. Games and gamers are regularly judged in ways that are totally unacceptable for any other modern artistic medium.” I think that estimation is fair, but framing a perception issue as a public relations problem suggests that the author thinks it’s right to use propaganda (the mean name for public relations) to manipulate others’ opinions towards gaming. Propaganda’s purpose is to get the reader to do something. In the case of Hatred, that was exclusion via the heckler’s veto in order to make gaming look more appealing to mainstream culture. I think criticizing the game is fair. I personally agree that Hatred is abhorrent and would not want to play it. But calls for and acts of exclusion are all forms of censorship by critics and companies alike.

Hypocrisy or the Heckler's Veto?

The possibility that Valve had pulled Hatred as a business decision offers a contrast to my original speculation. They stated, “Based on what we've seen on Greenlight we would not publish Hatred on Steam.” They justify pulling the game because it is not in line with what they seek to sell. Valve’s message has been criticized as hypocritical, citing the current sale of Postal 1, the obvious inspiration for Hatred. Exploring this criticism of Valve requires that I do close analysis of Postal 1 and the Hatred trailer. If Hatred is more extreme that Postal 1, I’m comfortable speculating that their refusal to sell it was in fact a business decision in line with how they normally conduct themselves. Their original decision would lack both in hypocrisy and in capitulating to histrionic cries, but it would have still been censorship via the heckler’s veto. Valve had sought to avoid the criticism of having Hatred sold on their service. In order to stem any controversy, they pulled the game, effectively suppressing the game on their service and relegating its sale to much smaller distributors and the developer's site.

As a business, Valve can sell what they please. I’m happy they put the game back up because exclusion has real consequences on how much freedom developers feel they truly have over the subject matter of their game, no matter how terrible. Destructive Creations, the developer of Hatred stated, “These days, when a lot of games are heading to be polite, colorful, politically correct and trying to be some kind of higher art, rather than just an entertainment – we wanted to create something against trends.” Making a horrific and uncomfortably violent game as an affront to politically correct trends is a statement. And excluding a game seeking to make others uncomfortable is also a statement, one saying that some art or entertainment will not be tolerated by the gate-keepers of the most popular digital distribution service in gaming. That in itself is awful, regardless of the games availability on other services. It is perfectly legal to exclude as one sees fit, but I do not think it’s the right thing to do in the medium.

"Hey, I'm just exercising my 2nd amendment rights"

Go Postal

Examining Postal 1 reveals whether or not Valve’s decision was hypocritical. Postal features the same isometric view and mass murder of civilians as the objective. While a lot of Postal 1 is unsettling, it contains tons of tongue in cheek humor. The humor is extreme, but effective nonetheless. The player controlled Postal Dude wears a trench coat and spits out condescending one liners. “Don’t be a sissy” and “Let’s blow something up” are among his repertoire as well as “Only my weapon understands me.”  His appearance is terrifying and resembles the stereotypical representation of a mass murderer while still having an air of being ridiculous and non-sensical. When he guns down an enemy, they drop and spin around in a circle with their feet as a pivot. The death animation along with the low resolution graphics and muddy art keep the game from being as disturbing as say Mortal Kombat 1-3’s realistic digitized sprites. Furthermore the civilian enemies attempt to defend themselves by firing guns and throwing grenades at the player. This lowers the extremity of the violence as the enemies provide some resistance rather than just being fodder for the player. I would argue that the whole game’s aesthetic and design suggests the developers sought to find a range between tongue in cheek “Ha ha” humor and genuinely disturbing material.

The voice acting follows suit, careening between funny and uncomfortable. Many times the enemies gunned down shout in a goofy yelp, suggesting that the characters are rednecks. These shrieks are silly and can elicit a chuckle. Civilians yelling “Ow, my leg” with even delivery and “Hay-elp (help)” are some of the funnier ones. But there are some horrifying and unsettling death shrieks too. When knocked to the ground and waiting to be finished off, some male characters repeat “Kill me now” in a hopeless manner. Some female characters in the same state shriek “Help! I can’t breathe.” What makes these lines so difficult to bear is that they’re delivered in a serious manner and escape any sort of caricature of human suffering. It sounds much like a human that was gunned down and thus elicits levels of discomfort.

Schizo Ambivalence

Before each level are entries from the Postal Dude’s diary. The entries continue the theme of humor and shock. My favorite humorous entry says, “Life is cheap-- death is free! Act now! Supplies are limited (Offer void in Arizona).” Most are silly like this throughout the game. Conversely, the more disturbing entries resemble the talentless ramblings of mass killers. The twisted attempts at imagery and metaphor heighten the discomfort when reading them. The best example: “I am the celestial gardener, policing the planet of the stink weeds and poisons which leak out even through the cracks in the cold asphalt sidewalks of the city of Sin!" This entry establishes the motive of the Postal Dude. His mission is to cleanse, police, uproot. He elevates himself with moral language, but his aim is subverted throughout the game with humor. A particularly disturbing yet subverted entry comes near the end of the game: “Black leather smoke coils up my nostrils tingling with death's surprise. Human remnants cling to my clothing like bloody briars as I continue to wade, hip deep in flesh, bone and viscera. Bad neighborhood coming up!" The majority of the entry consists of harsh and sophomoric imagery, reducing human remains to an annoyance and a hindrance to the Postal Dude’s clothing and movement. Yet the entire passage is subverted by the conclusion in which the Postal Dude seems to be excited about entering the ghetto, calling it a bad neighborhood as if he is a suburban housewife. The final sentence functions as a dumb non sequitur, standing out in comedic contrast to the horrifying imagery before to create tension.

The sound design in the game offers sparse but ambient effects in between the cacophony of screams, gun fire, and explosions. The guns and explosions are dull and lack any sort of punch making them completely forgettable. The finisher move in the game, wherein the Postal Dude executes a gunned down enemy by shooting them fatally, is preceded by a digital low-end brass sound effect going *dun dun*. It alludes to the Jaws theme, defining the Postal Dude as a predator who partakes in killing innocents. Each level intro offers churning and psychotic industrial sounds as the player reads the diary entries. These ambient tracks are very disturbing and lend to a feeling of schizophrenia while reading the sillier ones. Several levels contain blaring repetitive sounds that create a sick feeling as one plays. The first level has a chilling wind that overtakes all other sounds, defining the level as an oppressive wasteland. The air force base level has an alert horn blaring constantly throughout, lending quite a dangerous and eerie feeling to the level as a whole. The use of sound effects as ambient music placed very high in the master mix lends to the disturbing side of the game’s personality.

All these aspects create an incredibly ambivalent game. Although the violence, shrieks, and ambient cacophony of sounds make the game lean more as an uncomfortable experience, it still is balanced by goofy caricatures of violence and one-liners. If Postal 1 exists as evidence of Valve’s hypocrisy, then Hatred must resemble it closely. Hatred must match the ambivalent tone as well as presentation and justifications for violence. If it doesn’t, then Valve is exonerated of claims of hypocrisy.

"It's funny. Because it's not."

Hatredy

The Hatred trailer contains a cutscene as well as several bits of gameplay. Analysis will be pure speculation on the final product based on what the developers themselves have chosen to show the public. As such, I will compare the game to Postal, looking for similarities and contrasts. In the trailer, we witness the Hatred Guy’s motivation and his execution of it in some early gameplay footage. Much like in Postal, he seeks to murder civilians because of a deep-rooted misanthropy. He refers to everyone in the world as insects saying, “I just fucking hate this world and these human worms feasting on its carcass.” The statement contains the same ugly and bad metaphors that demonstrate the character’s stereotypical hate and tortured expressions. Unlike Postal, the Hatred Guy explicitly refers to his mission as a “genocide crusade.” Although this does elevate the extremity of the game’s goal above Postal 1, it does so in name only. Both games feature genocidal vocabulary. The Postal Dude’s diary entries always allude to his mission of cleansing and genocide via its reference to humans as insects or a pile of decapitated remains. As far as character design, the Hatred Guy dons a floor length black trench coat and sports long black metal hair. He is a stereotype of an abhorrent mass murderer, but does not fall into the caricature that the Postal Dude does, who sports odd looking glasses, a cross and smiley face pin. The seriousness of his presentation lends to the dark tone of the game.

The gameplay likewise defines civilians as the enemy. The player runs about shooting at enemies at a much brisker pace than Postal. Explosions abound allowing the player to take out multiple enemies at a time. Executions also make a return, allowing the player to kill downed enemies by either stabbing them, shooting them, or clubbing them viscerally with one’s weapon. The executions themselves are much more detailed and grim than Postal’s, featuring up close looks of terror. Here is where Hatred is vastly different from Postal 1. Whereas Postal 1 contained tongue in cheek humor, Hatred does not. In fact it amps up the extremity and excises any sort of humor that bought some balance to Postal’s fringe elements. None of the civilian enemies in the trailer are armed. They don’t stand their ground and attempt to defend themselves. As the player approaches and guns them down, they run away shrieking. The only enemies that provide any sort of defensive resistance are police officers who will stand and fire back at the player. This key difference is the root of the discomfort others feel when watching the trailer.

The sound effects and music in the trailer are horrific, much like the worst sounds in Postal. People beg for mercy, shriek, and cry in pain as the Hatred Guy enacts violence. Executions feature grimey sound effects such as blades going in and out of flesh. The voice acting is clear and never caricatures, opting instead to horrify the player. Targets begging for mercy abound as the Hatred Guy finishes them off and their bodies go limp covered in blood. The score is churning heavy metal that intensifies the feelings of horror as machine gun chatter pounds the player’s ears, heightening the brutality and horror.

The tone and presentation contrasts Postal 1. Aesthetically Postal 1 achieves an industrial look with goofy caricatures and harsh ambience. Hatred instead opts for death metal darkness and realistic representations of people. The serious tone of Hatred is why it affects people so much. Hearing one liners and silly cries of pain in Postal deadens the game’s horrid atmosphere and mass murder. Hatred offers no such solace. As such, Valve’s allowance of Postal 1 was not a precedent, making comparisons between Postal 1 to Hatred a false equivalence. The games are similar, but ultimately Hatred’s tone and goal of mass murder of unarmed civilians has no peer. Their decision was not one of hypocrisy, but one of business. I don’t think Valve gave into criticism as much as they were drawing a line in the sand with Hatred on the wrong side.

"The right which would be translated in latin
by the word 'vas,' meaning sacred duty"

Valve's Responsibility

I’m happy that Valve reinstated Hatred. Moral panic and exclusion is normal, but art and entertainment exist for their own sake and many times challenge the norms in existence. Was Valve’s decision censorship? Of course it was. Was it brought on because of the massive puritan campaign Hatred? I don’t think so. Valve sent a message by restoring Hatred on Greenlight, one saying that even games with fringe themes will be tolerated and sold. The reach and magnitude of Valve as a distributor affords them a responsibility to dictate what is and is not acceptable to be sold. Their responsibility ideally involves selling products no matter the themes and making sure they work properly in order to protect the consumer from predators. Of course we have a long way to go concerning that. The ideal would be how Netflix treats film, allowing sexually explicit films such as Nymphomaniac, Blue is the Warmest Color, and Shame as well as violent media such as Only God Forgives, Reservoir Dogs, and Killing Them Softly.

The systems within Hatred have existed in many games. But the surface the developer chose in order to revolt against politically correct trends has drawn ire from many. It is exceptional in just how uncomfortable it makes people. Adrian Chmielarz, a game designer who directed Bulletstorm and The Vanishing of Ethan Carter, spoke succinctly in an interview on video game violence and how Hatred approaches it differently. He stated, “Violent video games satisfy the desires we don’t admit having, but being able to find an excuse for all the murder keeps us believing that we’re still rational, decent human beings. That we’re actually doing ourselves a favor, letting off steam in the most harmless way possible.” The excuse he speaks of is how games contextualize their violence. Postal does so with humor and by giving the civilian enemies weapons with which to fight back. One does not seem as cruel in the quest for catharsis when one kills another who fires back. But Hatred does not do this. Chmielarz continues, “Games like Hatred remove the veil.” One has no justification for shooting the civilian enemies. They do not fire back and in fact run away. The game revels in just how out in the open its horror and misanthropy actually is. The game is dark and playing it requires one to revel in harsh fantasy. Playing Hatred will be a horrid but ultimately victimless act. It’s one that should exist on Steam and I encourage you not to play it.

Forgotten Films: Only God Forgives

There are several films from the past few years that I think did not get enough attention or discussion. I’ll aid in ending this unfortunate reality by starting a series of posts called Forgotten Films. First is Only God Forgives by Nicolas Winding Refn, my favorite film of 2013. (Spoilers for the entire film ahead)

The Unnatural and Redemption

            Only God Forgives has a reputation. It’s a violently odd and incoherent beast. It presents dark themes native to Shakespeare and Greek myth, but in a post-modern vessel. The film aggresses one’s sensibilities while it pulls no punches. The exposition is confusing, vulgar, and violent. Its rising action is cripplingly slow, leading to a climax that explodes like very few films can yet still manages to subvert expectations. And its falling action does not just drop, it careens straight down, unraveling until you can barely stand to be alienated any longer by the oddness of it all.

            Only God Forgives immediately assaults the viewer with a strange world. It introduces the audience to Julian and his brother Billy. They run a muay thai gym for young men to train and compete as a cover for their drug business. During a trainees’ fight, their lieutenant does a drug deal with a woman. The boy ends up winning, is congratulated, and paid by Billy as Julian blankly stares. The room is dark and foreboding with extreme blood red light accenting it. Billy turns to Julian, uttering, “Time to meet the Devil.”

           

            Billy seeks punishment for his sexual relationship with his mother. During the film’s dinner scene, their mother Crystal says, “You know how boys are. Competitive. And with Billy being older and having the bigger cock, it’s not that Julian’s was small but…Billy’s was enormous!” The audience has their Oedipus. Instead of killing his father (Julian took that into his own hands), or blinding himself, the unnatural act pushes Billy to seek death. But he cannot facilitate death himself. He understands that he has committed a grave sin and his self-hatred pushes him to seek damnation by God, the ultimate authority.

            The film transitions to the neo-noir streets of Bangkok. Dark alleys, bright red and blue neon lights abound as Billy stalks the city. He stops upon a brothel and tells the pimp inside, “I want to fuck a 14 year old girl.” The pimp shrugs off the unnatural request in an attempt to redirect Billy’s attention to the girls in the window. Billy’s neon-lit ephebelia continues. “Do you have a daughter?” The pimp nods. “Bring her in. I’ll pay you 15000 Bat.” The pimp gives up and Billy assaults him and the women inside the brothel. Billy does not want to have sex with a young girl for the pleasure. One look into his and Julian’s face shouts that they are incapable of feeling pleasure, natural or not. The heinous crime he seeks to commit is to bring justice down upon himself. He continues down the streets, ambling like a barbarian waiting for civilization to strike him down.

            Billy smells the arm he beat the women with, taking in their perfume. He stops by a madame and her young daughter, fantasizing of murdering and raping her. A smash cut back to Julian looking at his hands connects the act of sex and violence to human hands. Julian holds them open then tightly closed. His upper torso and closed fists resemble the statue of a younger and more muscular muay thai fighter behind him.

            The film cuts to Chang, walking down the street. Chang’s otherworldliness becomes apparent by his manner of appearing rather than arriving. He enters a room with Billy on a bed and the young girl in a pool of blood on the floor. Billy sits there, no longer blank but withdrawn knowing that judgment has come and Hell will follow.

            The editing during the climactic fight scene reveals the statue near Julian’s ring to be of Chang. The film cuts between shots of Chang mercilessly beating Julian and the statue. Chang was a legendary fighter in addition to his supernatural position. Whereas Billy and Julian use their fists for unnatural acts (killing and raping young women, killing one’s father), Chang has used them to reinforce his dominion and dispense justice. The proximity of Julian to the statue suggests an inverted covenant the two have. Unlike the Binding of Isaac, Chang never asked Julian to kill his father as a test of his devotion. Julian is more like Macbeth than Abraham. The acts of patricide and filicide represent affronts against nature. God makes sin, man then sins, now man must seek redemption. And now the film begins suggesting that Chang is Old Testament. Both Billy and the father of the dead girl must be redeemed.

            Chang brings an old man into the room. He is Choi Yan Lee, the father of the young girl. Chang blankly looks at a saddened Lee and says, “How could you do it? How could you let this happen?” Lee is bewildered, replying, “I didn’t do anything.” Chang stares mercilessly and ends the conversation. “Now’s your chance to do something. Do what you want.” Chang leaves the room and the father brutally murders Billy. God is not seeking murder, but he is allowing it to occur to restore balance to civilization. Nature has purged the unnatural.

            The film cuts to a nighttime shot next to a highway. The police encircle Chang and Lee as low-end brass blares, summoning discomfort and foreshadowing Lee’s redemption. Lee sits on his knees cowering before Chang and begging for his life.

Lee: I’m sorry. My apologies. Don’t kill me.

Chang: What are you sorry for?

L: You were there. You know what I did. He killed my daughter.

C: Why did you kill him?

L: Because he killed my daughter.

C: You knew what your daughter was doing. Why didn’t you stop her?

L: How else was I to make ends meet. I have four daughters and no sons […] don’t you understand?

Chang approaches mightily and unfazed by Lee’s begging, causing Lee to look away in shame. Chang finally states, “This isn’t about your dead daughter. It’s about your three living daughters. This is to make sure you never forget them.” Chang materializes a sword from his back and slices off Lee’s right arm.

            Lee begs and deflects responsibility for what happened to his daughter, but Chang places the blame on Lee as it is his duty as a father to protect them. In order to redeem Lee, Chang slices off his right arm. Responsibility, action, and redemption are all values centered around the hands of the characters. Hands specifically are an important symbol in Refn’s films. They enact sex when open and violence when closed. Thus cutting off an arm is a neutering of power and sexuality while warning the rest of humanity about the wrath of God. The only chance at redemption is through physical justice. Lee now stands as a testament and has been redeemed for allowing his daughter to die. He is right with God and society.

            The next scene begins as Lee’s shrieks fade and Chang’s blade stops ringing. A steel eyed woman walks in. She is Mai, an exotic dancer in a strange relationship with Julian. He sits, blankly looking at her as she ties his hands to a chair. Sorrowful music plays as Julian looks longingly at Mai masturbating on the bed. He wants to engage with her physically but is unable to touch her. Julian murdered his father earlier in life out of jealousy for the father’s and Billy’s relationship with Crystal. Patricide began an Oedipal sin. His transgression against nature pushes him to fear redemption and its high costs, thus he is unable to experience physical pleasure.

            Julian begins to hallucinate, fearfully imagining himself walk down a hall leading to a dark room. He slowly places his arm into the darkness, reaching into the unknown of his subconscious. Chang appears and slices off his arm in the hallucination as the film quickly cuts back to Mai climaxing. Once again, violence, redemption, and sexuality are linked together. But more importantly, unnatural violence and sexuality has made natural sexuality impossible for Julian. The inverted covenant requires Chang to redeem Julian.

            Julian’s unnatural past followed by his final act against his mother of feeling inside the womb of her corpse illustrates his fractured psyche. He is not normal and cannot become normal on his own. His mother’s involvement only brings about revenge plots against Chang when she should be pushing for him to become redeemed. Her existence is that of a towering and incestuous hedonist. She spites Julian when he refuses to kill Choi Yan Lee. She arrogantly seeks the death of Chang. And when her warpath sets Chang’s sights on her, she invokes maternity so that Julian protects her only to later dismiss him as an after thought before her death by Chang’s sword.

            Julian’s exploration of his mother’s womb is fruitless. He returns to a club, watching women from a distance, unable to touch them or to feel peace. Chang enters, looking softer as and full of grace. The ending, alluding to the too-good-to-be-true hallucination at the end of Taxi Driver, finds Julian in a pastoral setting. Nature surrounds him, Chang, and the police encircling them. Julian holds his arms out, bloodied and dirty from killing his father and feeling his mother’s womb. Chang’s mystical sword comes down and the film ends. Julian is no longer unnatural, but he is now physically incapable of sex and violence. He is sterile, but he is redeemed.

The Purity of 1001 Spikes

1001 Spikes is a game of rigorous trial and error platforming. What sets 1001 Spikes apart from mainstream platformers is just how hard it is to learn and react to the rules guiding the enemy, projectile, and spike behaviors. Stepping on a block could activate a retracted spike or cause the block to crack (signaling a pifall). These world behaviors happen quickly with bottomless pits and spike floors surrounding the player. Any mistake in judgement or reaction will lead the player to a quick death. The player must navigate each level to collect the key to the exit and then continue through the level to reach the exit. That is 1001 Spikes in all it’s masochistic hours of play. It boils down to trying over and over to memorize each obstacle/enemy/world behavior and reacting appropriately. And you have 1001 lives to learn them all and beat the game.

The player can perform a low jump, high jump, and throw a dagger. Performing the low jump allows the player to travel farther horizontally while the high jump allows the player to cover more vertical space. The developers designed the levels around these two jumps in order to maintain the usefulness of both. Neither falls to preference as the level design alternates.  Some sections have a low ceiling, requiring a low jump to both clear obstacles and avoid the ceiling. Jumping into the ceiling reduces the horizontal distance one can jump as a penalty. Levels also require the player to scale vertically or hop over several enemies. The dagger allows the player to break away false walls, attack enemies, and trigger switches. Each tool becomes an essential part of the player’s repertoire.

One challenge involves fast moving boulders that flow from dispensers. The player can short jump over each one. The hook is that the boulders can come in sets of three with a small gap in time before the new set rolls out. Counting sets also comes into play when navigating between boulders to acquire the key to unlock the doors. One such level contains several skinny platforms over an abyss with the key over the rightmost platform that sinks when the player steps on it. The player has to keep count of the sets of boulders, making sure to hop over each one, reach the key, and jump back to the stable platform all while avoiding the boulders. One only has enough room to reach the stable platform if they jump back during the small gap in between deployment of the new set of boulders. This small detail in the behavior of the boulders allows the player to advance. The designers use these small details of behavior and the slight room for error as the guiding principle for every challenge in the game.

Players must also focus on the small details of each sprite. Pitfalls regularly occur throughout the game as well as faulty moving platforms that will break and fall. Many are clearly marked by cracks in their art. Other times, the player must be acutely aware of the auditory cue that the ground is about to fall and plummet them to yet another death. Steadfast awareness and reaction time are the player’s best friends. Some levels even feature long sections of spikes that alternate between 1.5 second protracted and retracted states. An auditory cue signals to the player to perform a high jump to clear the spikes. Once back on the ground, the player can continue advancing.

The game’s rigor tends to make it unfair. It is a masochistic platformer in the same vein as Super Meat Boy or the Japanese version of Super Mario 2. Like Meat Boy, the game’s abundance of respawns allows it to throw out ridiculous amounts of difficulty towards players who have honed their platforming skills in the past decade or two. But whereas Meat Boy gave the player infinite lives, here the player has 1001. That may sound like a lot, but this is one of the most trial and error fueled games I have ever played.

It was not uncommon during my playthrough to die over 150 times on a single level (An in-game stat system keeps track). The pinpoint accuracy required for the levels, especially the ones in the back half of the game, becomes maddening. Not because it requires the player to perform well, but because of how the Game Over system works. Once the player burns through all their lives, the game forces you to watch an unskippable 20-second game over screen with maddeningly slow text scroll. Then it respawns the player with 3 lives. 3 lives that will soon be lost and beckon the return of the 20 second game over screen. The taunting impedes the flow of the game and keeps the player from immediately experimenting with new ways to traverse the levels and clear obstacles. The only remedy is to suffer through the constant game over’s until one completes a world on the map, thus granting the player several hundred lives.

The combination of all these elements reaches fervor in the back half of the game. Sound cues for impeding protracted spikes, bouncing platforms with two different alternating jump archs, 2 or more dagger throwing blocks on different timers, all requiring the player to constantly try over and over to master timing, memory, and execution.

A player must perform at their best to succeed, lest they wish to beckon the return of the Game Over screen. The level navigation is sublime and incentivizes the player to discover hidden pathways behind breakable blocks. The player must constantly scour the board for shortcuts, firing a dagger into each one to get around difficult sections. These shortcuts are a way for the player to minimize risk as they continue their trial and error adventure. Searching for one of the thirty hidden collectables behind breakaway blocks elicits a great sense of discovery.

Bennet Foddy, creator of QWOP, called the game “too pure.” His statement is perhaps the best lens to view the game. Although Foddy’s comment is rather amorphous and abstract, purity is the ideal achieved with the gameplay of 1001 Spikes. It’s expectations, level design, and obstacle behavior all demand perfection. The trial and error masochistic platforming is well designed and innately unfair. One has to try over and over to beat a level. I have been playing platformers since I was 4. I died anywhere from 20 times to 190 times depending on the level. The game’s challenge keeps me interested as it throws new obstacles at me. Although the Game Over system is a stupid penalty and the trial and error gameplay can be maddeningly unfair, the sublime bliss of the game’s positives greatly outweigh any negatives.