A Hellacious Sense of Style

I recently had the chance to catch up with an old friend.

It’s been awhile, but what was clear at first glance was that with each passing day, she was starting to show her age. Yet the charm and fun that we’ve had in the past kept bringing us back together to the shores of hell. Deep within this inferno was the love of my childhood. Knee-deep in the dead, amongst all the loving memories and tender moments, she sits their fondly.

Installed on my computer.

Doom.

Oh, how I missed thee greatly.

The game was simple in nature. There was no alternate shoot button, no jump button, no crouch button. You didn’t get to pick a character or give him a name. You didn’t select between an easy, medium, or hard difficulty setting. Instead, you selected anything from “Hey, Not Too Rough” to the impossibly delightful “Nightmare.”

There were no special items to be found in the game, just basic health and ammo. What more do you need really?

There was no reload button; simply shoot till empty. Unlike all other games today, there was no cross hair in the middle of the screen indicating where you were aiming. As long as you were shooting in the general direction of the bad guys, the computer assumed that’s who you were trying to shoot and Bang! down goes the imp.

There wasn’t even a boss waiting for you at the end of each level, merely a red Exit sign hanging from the ceiling just above a golden door behind which was a silver button with red and green squares. It was your way out of the world and into the next level.

Despite missing features that have since been taken for granted, what this game had – beyond hours of fun and a high body count – was some of the most magnificent interior design in video gaming history. Never before have my eyes gazed upon the work of one of the world’s most anonymous yet finest interior decorators.

Scattered through the otherwise dingy interiors of Doom were yellow trident lamps to provide a lovely mood lighting for you and your pistol. If the trident lights were a little too pomp for your tastes, some levels were decorated with more conservative emergency lights, which were cute.

As I walked through those halls, my character’s face was constantly looking back at me while I looked at the road ahead for any enemies. The face was not gazing at the interior decoration. It didn’t even verbally communicate with me. The face indicated the type of mood that I should be feeling by mere facial expressions, a feet quite revolutionary for its time.

When I started the game, the face was all serious, with a tough-guy exterior extending deep into those black pupils. But grab that chainsaw? He was all smiles. Have his health fall below 20? He would look at me with those bloody temples, begging to know why I felt compelled to shoot that barrel full of green goo, a green goo that turned out to be highly combustible.

But if only that face could take a moment to stop and look around the large, industrial rooms, I’m sure that face would positively melt.

Not wanting to reinvent geometry, the levels consisted of mostly square rooms.

Green and gray dominated the color palette.

As I meandered through the straight halls, I would occasionally stumble upon a room with blue walls painted to look like a giant circuit board. If I were not inundated with soldier after soldier, I may have had a better chance to sense the cold feeling in the room. It was low lit, with the ceiling lights blinking on and off casting rigid shadows on the wall. The contrast between the wall and the shadows exhibited enough personality to provide warmth in this otherwise cold room. It was the kind of place I’m sure you could invite other Doom commandos to to share a cup of tea and reminisce about past slaughters.

For the most part, the rooms were basic in their shape and layout, with a minimal amount of clutter. Before you think these rooms were boring with no tables and no boxes, remember, it was all part of the minimalist design. To help break up some of the monotony, there would be a decadent corpse sprawled on the ground, completely decayed as indicated by the pixelated-blotches of red outlining the body.

One of the most difficult parts of the interior decorator’s job was the unique challenge of evaluating a green wall, then painting a small section with hints of silver. It had to be unnoticed, but still have a strong enough accent to indicate that wonders beyond your wildest dream – perhaps a med kit? – lay behind the wall. This wall had to be detailed to perfection while a rude imp hurled fireballs in the interior decorator’s direction.

Thankfully, Doom portrayed something all other games have missed and that is there is no loyalty amongst crooks and thieves. While the imp hurled flames, a pink pig-man with Tyrannosaurus Rex-sized arms would come along and eat it only to get shot by a shotgun wielding soldier. That is the genius of this interior decorator who managed to complement the colors of the world with the characters that inhabited it, knowing full well that they’ll all end up dead anyways.

Long before women were swooning over the fact that he went to Jared’s, eyes fell upon the exquisite placement of red buttons and silver levers and hearts a-fluttered over the possibility of which door may open or elevator would rise, opening new places to explore and wonders to behold.

That red key glowing in the distance? It. Took. My. Breathe.

Away.

I’m sure the interior decorator was faced with a deadline crashing upon him faster than he could strategically place the blue shoulder pads on the tall pillar to provide just a hint of color to an otherwise brown room. If not for the magical keystroke of I-D-D-Q-D, the interior decorator may not have been able to finish. But with his eyes glassed over white, the fireballs and green slime had no affect on his health as he dotted a wall with just a hint of blood. For added spice, he surrounded it with blue vials of health, a design decision so obvious that most people would try to place an army green box of ammo nearby that just wouldn’t fit. Not like those blue health vials. That’s what makes a good interior decorator.

For you snotty suburbanites out there who think they invented feng shui, head to the Phobos Lab level. A little ways down from where you spawn, take a right and notice the placement of the rocket launcher in relation to the half wall that looks out over a pool of green slime. You may have to mow down the invisible piggies to get a good look, but once you do, I think you’ll recognize the design element.

When I got reacquainted with Doom, I had to pause for the briefest of moments before I took my first step by pressing down on the UP arrow key.

As I gazed upon the terrace found in the first level – upon which was some green armor. Score! – I couldn’t help but think that this is why HG TV exists. It’s the interior blue pool next to the courtyard that kept me shaking my head, wondering why this interior decorator has not gotten his proper due. His vision and sense of style brought this world together and brought me closer to the game of Doom where my heart beat rapidly and my blood boiled steadily. It was either the clean lines of the area that caused my physical reaction or it was a result of the horned beast’s radioactive fireballs; it’s hard to tell sometimes.

As much as I would have liked to continue admiring all of the nuances in the design, sometimes in life, you have to put aesthetic tastes aside and start gunning down some demonic mofo’s. As I looked over those demon’s heads, I could spot the exit sign.

Those exit doors had an intricate weave of gold on the front. To create this elaborate door, the interior designer didn’t just possess a steady hand and keen eye. It took some serious balls to take the focal point of the room and indent it as opposed to placing the door flush with the wall, which was the common thing to do at the time. It was risks like this that won over my admiration. To take such a key component of a room and push it back…oh bravo, my friend.

Bravo.