As I levitate with almost complete freedom around the Brutalist atrium of the Central Research area – all clean concrete walkways broken up by formidable trees – I have a sense that this is finally the game that Remedy always wanted to make, the developer’s creative promised land.
Conversations around Remedy games revolve as much around their constraints and shortcomings as their brilliance and ambition, but Control feels liberated, untethered from past limitations. A big part of that is the hub-based and more systemic structure of the game. Control has something of the immersive sim, encouraging you to explore rooms you might otherwise miss to pick up new powers. You can watch over-saturated videos of scientists talking about dimensional fissures, and shuffle through documents that fill you in on the disaster that befell the place you’re exploring. This place is the Oldest House, the headquarters of the FBC – a government division that investigates paranormal activity. You are new boss Jesse Faden, and it’s your first day on the job. The thing is, instead of being shown to your gold-plaqued desk and arranging a ‘getting-to-know-you’ conference call, you arrive to find people floating eerily in the building’s vertiginous expanses – presumably dead – and black glitchy vortexes of violent energy swirling and crunching towards you. It’s a unique vision of the ‘science gone wrong’ trope so beloved by videogames.
In a way, the tone is post-Lovecraftian, set in today’s age where beliefs in gods and squid-faced deities have made way for the cold power of physics, and a sense that whatever’s beyond the tenuous veil of this dimension is much less tangible and
anthropomorphic. But where the laws of cosmic physics are normally terrifying through their stark apathy to humanity, in Control they’re something more malevolent, as I discover in my hands-on. The corrupting force throughout the facility, known as The Hiss, manifests in all kinds of strange forms. It possesses people, for example, and sets them out to kill you. I encountered regular gunning grunts on the ground, but also more powerful levitating enemies, telekinetically hauling chairs, tables, chunks of concrete, you-name-it, at me.
FLYING DEBRIS
In a ghoulish callback to Alan Wake, these people ramble insane scientific nothings to themselves (at least, nothing that my non-sciency brain can translate). You get the sense that their minds have been
stripped of the human component and left only with formulae and theories attempting to make sense of whatever dark energy has taken over the building. The good news is that you, Jesse, have powers of your own. You can levitate high into the air to meet your flying foes, then engage in a duel of flinging whatever the hell your telekinetic pull ability can reel in towards you. Within moments, the courtyard of Central Research is strewn with debris as we entwine ourselves in a gravity-free tussle of office objects. But there’s more to Jesse than impossibly red hair and levitation. By aiming at the enemy and clicking the right analog stick, we dash through the air, slamming into them and disintegrating them into a shower of sparks. That airdash contributes to the liberating weightlessness of controlling Jesse. You can only levitate for a limited amount of time, and can’t keep going up forever, but you can airdash in any direction level with or below you, which means you can, for example, dash over to a ledge and haul yourself up, or dash into the ground to convert it into a devastating ground pound.