"Game Over" screens deliver a simple message: the fun is over. However, just because the message itself is simple, it doesn't mean that the messenger has to be, and that's what I'm hoping to honor with this new (semi) regular (maybe) series, "Glorious Game Overs!" 

Whether visually, narratively, emotionally or more, some "Game Over" screens have gone above and beyond when it comes to making their simple message not-so-simple, taking things to a level that one might even be able to consider a unique art (not unlike the "lost art" of Title Screens)

Obviously, not every "Game Over" needs to go beyond its intended purpose, so this series isn't suggesting that everything that isn't featured is terrible. Instead, I'm just going to highlighting the ones that, for whatever reason, stuck with me throughout the years, along with others that are totally awesome in their own right. 

For this series' inaugural entry, I decided to go with a "Game Over" screen that has haunted me ever since I first laid eyes on it: Donkey Kong Country.

Moments after turning on the game, I was totally enthralled by the graphics, the antics of the intro and, my God, the theme music, which gave me chills all over my body. I actually ended up watching the intro repeatedly because I couldn't figure out how to work the controller... but I'm not complaining.

Finally, upon truly getting started, I was fully immersed in the jaw-dropping, gorgeously rendered jungle environment, its rich atmosphere, and infectious music. I was having an absolute blast, and will never forget discovering the secret tunnel bonus room, or how the sun would set at the end of the stage. 

The fun wouldn't last though: I was a kid, and DKC was hard.

Deaths came often, and so did the "Game Over" screen.

​Frankly speaking, Donkey Kong Country's Game Over screen scared the shit out of me. I knew it was an inevitability that I would see it sooner rather than later, but even that humble acknowledgement of my fate did nothing to dull the terror of its terrifying appearance.

Gone were the the colorful visuals of the jungle. Gone were the cartoonish antics of jumping on a malevolent beaver. In their places were beaten, battered, broken and bruised Kongs. They had clearly suffered, and they had suffered because of me and my failures. 

Bathed in stark light amongst a sea of darkness, the pain and disappointment in Diddy's eye seemed so real, and it struck a chord in my soul that resonates to this very day. 

This emotional burden was only amplified by David Wise's chilling score. It's one of the most defeated and depressing pieces I've ever heard, and even its scattered instruments seem like they're too exhausted to even continue. 

What solidified this nightmare, though, was that no matter what I tried, I couldn't seem to skip this screen or proceed past it. It was like I was locked in hell as punishment for my foibles. The only escape was resetting the system... but this screen has never stopped haunting me. 

With the mind-blowing release of Banjo and Kazooie, the announcement of Fatal Fury's Terry joining the roster (even though it should have been King of Fighters' Iori) and the promise of even more DLC characters to come, it once again feels like "anything is possible" in the world of Super Smash Bros.

In other words, there's no better time to discuss our hopes and dreams for who we'd like to see as playable characters, no matter how bonkers (I'm looking at you, Goku enthusiasts. JUST GIVE IT UP) and I've got a few I'm dying to talk about!

Admittedly, most of my choices are fairly conservative in nature and in tune with what I would assume most people would consider as "reasonably possible." This means no non-video game characters (though Tekkaman Blade would be a delightful addition) and nothing too absurd (like a playable Vic Viper from Gradius or a minor character from an ultra-obscure JRPG.)

Because I want to talk about my choices in detail (move lists, stages, etc.) and preserve your sanity, I decided to break each contender into their own, separate post... the first of which being about the character that I want most of all: Doom Guy!

​Since the initial announcement of DLC fighters in Ultimate, rumors have circulated that "Doom Guy" would be amongst the chosen. Surprisingly, there's been a good amount of evidence to support this belief (including official sources!) so it's not too much of a stretch to think that the possibility of Doom Guy's inclusion might end up being far greater than a snowball's chance in Hell.

Who He Is And Why We Need Him:

"Doom Guy" is the name lovingly bestowed upon the lone space marine that not only fought back against the invading forces of Hell singlehandedly, but actually took the fight to them on their own turf.

One of the key figures in establishing, cementing and popularizing the first-person shooting genre, Doom Guy is nothing short of an icon, and has appeared in a multitude of games, including an epic N64 exclusive, a 2016 "reboot" (which has essentially been confirmed to be a direct follow-up to Doom 64) and its upcoming sequel, DOOM Eternal.

Considering his legacy, historical importance and the fact that he's so beloved that his fan-given nickname has essentially become canon, he's the perfect addition to Super Smash Bros.' ever-expanding roster of icons. 

Unique Traits and Special Details:

The first thing that will set Doom Guy apart will be his appearance: rather than being a high-quality 3D model of his old look or 2016 design, Doom Guy will instead by an HD, 2D sprite of his original in-game appearance, just with a more angles and frames of animation (for the most part.)

In fact, his idle animation will be exactly as your remember it, with him facing the camera and "marching" in place with limited frames of movement. 

His side-dodge will be the infamous "circle strafe," but it has a twist: much like how Luigi's taunt is the only taunt in the game to inflict damage (measly as it is), Doom Guy will fire off a round of his currently equipped weapon during the maneuver (though it'll be slightly stronger than the sheepish Luigi kick.)

His alternate colors include pixelated renditions of Doom Guy's DOOM II, DOOM 2016 and DOOM 3 looks while his costumes feature a helmet-less Doom Guy variant along with the old-school version of B.J. Blazkowicz from Wolfenstein 3D. 

General Stats / Traits:

Much like his in-game appearances, Doom Guy's oddly incongruous physical prowess and arsenal of abilities carry over into Smash, specifically in terms of his inexplicable strength and superhuman speed.

In other words, his attacks will be heavy-hitting and slow (focusing heavily on brass-knuckle punches, hammer drops and kicks)  but his movement speed will be as feared by opponents as it is the denizens of Hell.

That said, Doom Guy has very little platforming experience, and it shows. 

His jumps are pathetic, and his Up Special is unwieldy, which puts his recovery abilities into question. 

Poor recovery aside, Doom Guy's heavy weight, powerful close-range attacks, deadly speed and arsenal of long-distance chipping moves make him a tank to be reckoned with. ​

​​Move List:

Although classic Doom Guy doesn't seem to do much of anything but shoot guns at demons, 2016's Doom Slayer showed us that he's got plenty of savage fighting techniques up his sleeves (despite not having sleeves). That barbarous style of combat is reflected in Doom Guy's basic attacks, but his gunslinging (and chainsaw wielding) roots take up the brunt of his special moves. 

Basic Attacks:

Doom Guy's basic attacks will consist of heavy punches and fisticuffs. Nothing fancy, just brutal and to the point. Some combos might even end with a surprise chainsaw attack... but not enough to take away from his Side Special. 

Special: Hit-Scan Weapons

Doom Guy can fire his famous weapons, all of which have varying effects.

Although weak, the starting pistol doesn't actually have to be aimed; just like the game, there's a chance it'll hit anyone in its general direction (though the closer and more in line the better). Additionally, the pistol fires at a fairly slow pace, but has a one-in-three chance of staggering an opponent. 

The Super Shotgun is a devastating close-range weapon, but has a lengthy reload time. Surprisingly, it can be fired from afar and have decent results, though the spread of its projectiles are greatly increased and land with minimal impact.

The Chain Gun is a weak but fast-paced rapid weapon that can keep opponents at bay like the Super Scope, though it's a bit slower and saddled with a cool down timer.

Doom Guy's Plasma Rifle fires extremely fast and always staggers opponents with its surging electrical damage, but it lacks any real knockout power. Coupled with the fact that it quickly overheats, the Plasma Rifle requires serious skill to wield.

The Rocket Launcher shoots only a single rocket before needing to be reloaded, but its accurate, fast and deals solid explosive damage. Unfortunately, the rocket is fairly easy to dodge (or detonate in mid-air), and each shot moves Doom Guy backwards. There's also the possibility of getting caught in your own explosion, which isn't too great... 

Up Special:  "Barrels o' Fun"

Doom Guy puts an explosive, toxic barrel beneath his feet and jumps up, causing an explosion that launches him into the air, but also damages the area beneath him. If used in the air, the barrel is launched quickly downwards, exploding on impact. 

Although he gains decent height, there isn't much maneuverability with this recovery move. 

Side Special: Chainsaw 

Doom Guy lunges to the side with his chainsaw. Although relatively low in range and immediate power, it's capable of sucking multiple foes into its roaring blades, causing constant damage that rapidly adds up. This move can be charged by holding the combination before letting go, which increases lunge distance and changes the type of attack i.e. forward stab, downward swipe, etc.

Down Special: Weapon Switch

Although he'll be vulnerable, Doom Guy can switch his "Special" weapons by using this move. As mentioned above, his options are the hit-scan pistol, Super Shotgun, chain gun, plasma rifle and rocket launcher. 

*Alternative Special Move Variations/Notes:

Considering the fact that the chainsaw is such an iconic weapon, it's possible that the standard Special, rather than the Side, would use it. If that's the case, then the Side Specials would fire the weapons. While that sounds awkward, there's something funny about the idea of being forced to move while shooting... an integral part of the classic DOOM experience. 

I also wonder if his arsenal of firearms should be tied to an ammo counter, with similar mechanics to how the Dragon Quest Hero's magic points work. 

​Final Smash: 

​While there's no way in Hell (lol....... I'll see myself out) that Nintendo would let Doom Guy go full-on Fatality in Smash Bros. like he does in DOOM 2016, there were still plenty of options for a Final Smash. I couldn't decide on just one, so here are four! 

Rip and Tear:

The camera smash zooms into Doom Guy's face, and through his helmet, we see his evil grin. The opening line of DOOM 2016 is spoken: "Rip and Tear... until it is done!" He opens up a black, "Berserk" power-up box and his eyes glow as if the "God Mode" cheat was activated. Now buffed up, Doom Guy loses access to all his weaponry, and instead relies solely on his almighty fists and unholy speed, sending his opponents flying with ease. 

Knee Deep in the Dead:

Doom Guy lets out a guttural roar, sucking anyone near him into a teleporter to Hell. Upon reaching the flaming realm, Doom Guy stands atop a crag surrounded by lava, taunting his opponents to attack. As they lunge at him, he strikes his iconic pose from DOOM's cover art, going nuts with the entirety of his arsenal... including the BFG.

Alternatively, this Final Smash could be Doom Guy doing the famous pose on the crag, then leaping away and leaving his opponents in his place. Just like the box art, legions of Imps and demons swarm the helpless character(s) and, as the bottom-left demon ( as pictured above) turns to smirk at the camera, the monsters leap into the air and at their prey. The screen turns black, damage is dealt, and we're back to the melee! 

BFG Division:

Doom Guy grins that infamously toothy grin, pulls out the BFG and lets one of its explosive, green energy bursts out. The discharge travels across the screen shooting out damaging lightning to anyone near it while sucking in everyone who's too close, dealing constant damage before delivering a spectacular (and explosive) finish. If you somehow avoided the initial shot and the lightning, there's still a good chance you'll get caught in the explosion, paying the price anyway. 

Circle Strafe:
​
That not as dramatic as the previous entries, "Circle Strafe" would be an extremely fitting nod to the series: Doom Guy circles his adversaries at a blazing speed, unleashing the entirety of his arsenal against the defenseless foes........... okay, this one was a joke. Kind of. Maybe.

​... I secretly want it. 

Taunts:

For someone who doesn't say much, Doom Guy has a lot of personality, and I think these taunts show it off best. 

1. Doom Guy strikes the iconic box art pose, beckoning his opponents to bring it on!

2. Doom Guy revs up his chainsaw.

3. Doom Guy checks his collection of Key Cards. 

*Alternate Taunt: Doom Guy looks left and right, mimicking his character portrait. Obviously the effect will be lost if he's wearing his helmet, so this would probably only be available with the helmet-less costume, replacing the Key Cards. 

Stage(s):
​
I've got three stages in mind for Doom Guy, almost all of which are deliciously chaotic:

The first one, titled "E1M1," has players fighting atop the DOOM status bar, which would travel throughout the entirety of DOOM's very first level. Imp fireballs would hit the arena and cause fiery damage to anyone in range, Doom Guy's ever-switching arsenal would act as a temporary platform, but would cause various types of damage to anyone unfortunate to be on it when it went off (in other words, explosive damage from the shotgun, constant chain-damage from the chainsaw, being sent flying from a punch, etc.)  

Other hazards would include toxic waste splashing onto the stage, the occasional monster accidentally jumping from the background and into the foreground, and, on the other end of the spectrum, health potions and armor helmets would occasionally be flung onto the playing field, healing anyone who came in contact with them. 

All in all, it would be a mostly flat, straightforward "Final Destination"-styled experience, but with the random hazards (or help) and the occasional existence of a variety of platforms (thanks to Doom Guy's weapons), it would be a highly-themed (and highly-unpredictable) mayhem-filled fracas.

The second stage would actually take place inside a DOOM level, but with a twist: "Automap."

Like the name suggests, the starting platform would be white outlines over a black background... at least at first. Soon, the background would fill out with the Automap of one of a handful of classic DOOM levels, causing the main platform to take on the properties of whatever stage/style was chosen. Such properties include walls, doors, teleporters, platforms, hazards and more.

For example, "Outpost" levels will cause doors to spawn (which can be opened by attacking or tossing players through them), toxic waste and some basic monsters.

Other options would be a hellish level, complete with Cacodemons, lava and those weird, gnarled Hell trees. The most dreaded stage layout, however, would be "Tower of Babel," where a gigantic Cyberdemon appears in the background (like "Brinstar Depths'" Kraid), attacking players with his claws and rockets. After a few minutes in whatever variation was chosen, the stage would revert back to its basic Automap look before choosing a new locale. 

The third and final option would be somewhere in Hell, such as versions of either DOOM's "Mt. Erebus" or DOOM 2016's metal album-inspired "Titan's Realm." Unlike "E1M1" and "Automap," this stage would be far less chaotic and interactive, instead going for atmosphere and visual splendor (like catching a swarm of Cacodemons flying by in the distance, or seeing a Titan crossing a sea of fire.)

The only hazards would be the occasional appearance of teleporters, which you can use to travel quickly from point to point... or perhaps weaponize by sending opponents to a new location with a well-aimed smash attack.

Music:

The DOOM franchise has a rich history of memorable, head-banging tunes, so only picking three wasn't easy. My logic was to give us the icon we all want, with a taste of the series' history to follow, and then one to show off Nintendo's history with the series. 

1. A remix of "At Doom's Gate" (otherwise known as "E1M1")
2. A remix of "Running From Evil" (DOOM II)
3. A remix of the Doom 64's main theme

Castlevania: Legacy of Darkness isn't exactly treated with respect by the majority of the Castlevania fanbase. 

A wonky camera, odd level design, frustrating puzzles and clunky controls are just a few of the issues that plague this game and cement it as yet another ill-advised (and sloppy) jump to 3D for a 2D franchise.

Still, for those who can look past its technical flaws, there's something special to be found: the stellar music, haunting atmosphere (which actually scared me) and, perhaps most intriguingly, the story and characters. 

Spanning multiple decades and following four separate characters, ​Legacy of Darkness tells a surprisingly well-developed story, but there are two moments in particular that cross the line between "good storytelling" and "holy shit, this is awesome," and that's what we'll be talking about today, in this Halloween edition of Shatterpoint!

Initially, I was only going to talk about Renon, but there's no way I could pass up an opportunity to discuss the unnecessarily satisfying subplot regarding this stubborn old bastard.

When playing as either Reinhardt Schneider (who's basically a Belmont in everything but name) or Carrie Fernandez (a member of the magical, Belnades bloodline), you'll run into Charlie while investigating the eerie, vampire-infested Villa. 

You're just minding your own business when this guy suddenly (and shockingly) bursts into the room, cross drawn, believing you to be a creature of the night. 

Proven wrong, he recommends that an "amateur" such as yourself should leave all the hard work to him. Your character warns Mr. Vincent that Dracula is no ordinary fiend, but Charlie doesn't back down, and decries you for being an "obstinate youth" before warning you one more time to retreat and let him handle the situation.

While this boastful bastard seems imposing enough (armed with holy water, crosses and more) it all seems kind of laughable considering that you're playing as a descendent of the ​Belmonts.

Who does this guy think he is? Hell, he even takes a nap after the initial meeting, like some lazy bum. 

"Lol," you think to yourself, "what an idiot."

So the game then continues, and you meet your fair share of other characters, including an odd little boy named Malus. He claims to have been kidnapped from a local village... but there's something rather off about him.

As the story goes on, it's revealed that Malus is actually the reincarnation of Dracula, and upon reaching his full power, he turns into an adult and you are forced to do battle with him. 

After his defeat, he transforms back into a little boy. 

Confused, shaken and scared, Malus reaches out and your character goes to help him... only for the boy to be consumed in the flames of holy water as a voice calls out "YOU CANNOT DECEIVE ME!" 

Heralded by dominant, pounding timpani, the camera reveals Charlie Vincent (channeling Peter Cushing's bad-assery from The Horror of Dracula) who is hellbent on ending this once and for all.

"Do you still not understand?" he asks your supposedly-educated and skilled character, "this child is really Dracula!"

He turns back to the writhing child, laughing: "Try and stop me, would you?"

And although Charlie's character model doesn't actually smirk here, you can 100% feel it.

This is such an epic moment, and you're forced to admit that you're cocksure idiot for initially disregarding Charlie Vincent. Holy whips and magic spells mean nothing if you lack the basic knowledge and experience to see through the facade of a devil, and neither a Belmont or Belnades could. The world came this close to Dracula killing our heroes and taking over... and we have an old, cranky bastard to thank for stopping him. Thank God he took his nap.

(You can view Charlie Vincent's epic appearance here, starting at 1:19:30)

​That said, there's another element about Charlie Vincent that's "Shatterpoint!" material, and it's what happens if certain conditions are met (or not, depending on how you look at it.)

I won't reveal them here (because it's more fun that way), but if you meet certain conditions, Charlie doesn't make a surprise appearance to save you from Malus. 

Instead, he will have become the very thing he hunts, and it's up to you to put him out of his misery.

Accompanied by a mocking rendition of "Vampire Killer," the former hunter warns you that, even as a vampire, his skills are still far greater than your own, and his experience will give him the edge (with the implication being that he's aware of everything a hunter would try against a vampire.)

He's quite right, too, particularly on "Hard:" weapons that were formerly used to hunt the night, such as Holy Water, now have decidedly deadly and poisonous properties against the living.

When defeated, Charlie will deliver his own finishing blow, dousing himself in holy water.

This sad-yet-poetic conclusion shows just how dedicated Charlie Vincent was to the destroying the scourge of the vampire... even if it meant destroying himself. 

​(The entire "Vampire Vincent" sequence can be seen here.)

Countless video games have merchants that offer to sell items and goods to players in need.

Most of these characters are generic salespeople, like the staff at the Celadon Dept. Store or any of the shopkeepers in Dragon Quest. Others have a little more character, such as the delightfully friendly (yet incredibly suspicious) Merchant from Resident Evil 4, or Soulcaster II's surprisingly powerful Merchant who isn't afraid to support his best customer in battle. 

The Castlevania series, in particular, has a collection of odd venders, like Librarians or members of the US Military... but none match up to Renon. 

I genuinely believe that Renon is one of the best "merchant" characters in all of gaming (if not the best) and although he may not be as quotable as a certain purple-clad, glowing-eyed broker with good manners who lovingly says "stranger" like it's a term of endearment, Renon has much more going on. 

Players are introduced to this peculiar salesman upon picking up a mysterious contract on the floor of the Villa.

Clad in a drab suit with a tie around his neck, a bowler hat on his head and a briefcase in his hand, Renon seems like an ordinary salesman... well, except for his devilish tail. 

Renon is a demon... but he's quick to make it clear that he's not an enemy. In fact, he's here to help. Considering how many folks make their way to Dracula's castle, he decided it would be in his best interests to supply them with items for some coin. Of course, if that wasn't enough to put you at ease, maybe his smooth-as-hell bow and hat-tip will. 

Regardless, the arrangement is simple: pick up one of his contracts and poof! he'll appear with his item-filled briefcase, ready to deal. 

His level of class (theme song and aforementioned bow included) is enough to set Renon apart from other digital merchants, but its his mannerisms and subtle characterizations that make him even more a treat. For example, he heavily implies that life in Hell is getting rough, and despite the fact that it's "shameful for a demon to be working," he had to develop his business because "one needs gold even in hell these days."

Renon becomes a welcome sight throughout the game, especially when playing on "Hard," where resources are exceedingly scarce.

Hell, by the time you reach the end of the game, there's almost something friendly between the two of you:

During your final meeting, Renon explains that news of an "impending global war" has reached his ears, and, considering that the "death of millions is a wonderful business opportunity," he'll be closing up shop at the Castle. With a glance at his shimmering pocket watch, he simply states "I must be gone. We shall not meet again.... not during your lifetime, anyway." It's a bittersweet departure between partners... nay... friends, and that last drop of pitch-black humor conjures up a wee tear in my eye. 

But, then again, there's something about this final meeting that's a bit odd... even threatening. 

And if you're unlucky enough, you might just find out why...

"That scroll you have used so often... did you read what it says?"

What should have been a satisfying farewell suddenly becomes an uncomfortable situation. Shouldn't Renon just take his leave? What's this business about having to deal with one last thing?

If you've played your cards wrong, Renon reveals that the scroll (which, admittedly, we did not read) is written in a demonic script... and it says we have made an agreement with Satan. 

According to Renon, using more than a certain amount of gold means your soul is forfeit... and, as the camera lowers itself and pulls closer to his face, he reveals that we've used "far more than that amount."

The entrancing theme music stops, lightning begins to surge around Renon, and our once-classy salesman pal becomes his true demonic self, promising to enforce the contract we unwittingly signed.

This is a fantastic and genuinely unexpected twist, and the ensuing fight for you soul is one of the most difficult and emotionally satisfying in the game... all of which makes me love Renon even more. 

While neither Charlie Vincent's arc nor the true purpose of Renon's contract really measure up to the level of Ganon's "shatterpoint" moment in Ocarina of Time, I think it's definitely safe to say that they're still worthy of being included in the same circle. 

The air is crisp and cool. An Autumn breeze chills the night even further. There is a desolate village surrounded by an eerily barren landscape. Battered, wooden homes creak, anxious townsfolk whisper, and an overwhelming aura of melancholy pervades every corner.

Down its beaten roads, one finds the decaying ruins of the town's graveyards and mausoleums... and then a massive structure. 

A derelict, crumbling church, with an otherworldly orange glow emanating from its basement, stands ominously against the night sky. 

This desolate village is Tristram, and something evil flourishes within the catacombs of its church...

Earlier this season, I revealed just how terrified I was (am?) of Diablo's desecrated church and its orange, otherworldly glow, but there is a positive side to that potent nightmare fuel: "Tristram," the excellent musical theme for the town that the church resides in.

"Tristram" is a fantastic piece that is both a perfect slice of the musical apex enjoyed during the classic Blizzard era and a prime example of a theme that encapsulates EVERYTHING about the subject it represents.

Let's give it a listen:

Dissonant guitar strumming and mournful horns start the piece, creating a cacophony that both unnerves the listener and hints at the town's inner turmoil.

After the intro, the guitar takes center stage and the song transitions into something far more melodic... but there's an underlying (and unyielding) sense of dread and menace, thanks to the slightly "off" guitar playing, and the deep, descending bass notes that manifest beneath its surface.
​
However, it's only after these disparate musical elements meld together that "Tristram" becomes something immensely intriguing:

Tristram's theme is like a zombie, outwardly monstrous but bearing a resemblance to its former self. This haunted, sullen town has fallen on dire times, and the palpably sinister tone does a great job of conveying it, yet, at the same time, there's still some semblance of the town's previous, better days left in the music.

It's an awesome way to thematically convey what's going on with the town, and the idea is perfectly executed. 

Another highlight of the piece includes the ethereal respite starting at 1:30, which culminates in the form of a fantastically dreamy guitar flourish around 2:15.

Following this is an introspective guitar solo and then a variation of the main theme, featuring the addition of an almost ghostly flute that makes things even more unsettling and eerie than they were before.

Finally, the song reaches its thematic climax: starting at :400, after a frenzied and sonically prickly guitar sequence, we enter what I'd describe as "the breakdown." 

Joined by somber and foreboding strings and horns, the guitar plays a quicker and more downtrodden version of the main theme, that gives off an unnerving sensation of things "winding down" into oblivion.

While the majority of the theme is an impressive mix of malice and the broken memories of happier times, the finale is a direct and truly haunting warning.

Tristram is cursed. Stay away.

​"This ride through hell was somewhat clever using lighting and mechanical creatures quite effectively. When combined with with the track pattern, some good frights were produced. As far as ride-throughs go, it was noteworthy."

​

I'm something of a latecomer to the DOOM franchise.

I had played the first one briefly as a kid at a friend's house, and while our playtime was brief, he was keen on showing me Doom Guy's malicious grin upon acquiring a shotgun, which stuck with me for years (along with us replacing the wall textures of the classic Windows 3D Maze screensaver with "tomatoes," otherwise known as Cacodemons.)

The only other person I knew who had it was my best friend, Michael, but we never played it because it was absolutely terrifying to him (no surprise there!)

When it came to DOOM II, my family ended up getting a copy for Christmas, but since gory first-person shooters were kind of a no-go in my house, I was only able to play the first level a couple of times with my Dad. Heck, I even gave DOOM 3's demo a very brief try in about 2005, but it was too scary for an innocent 8th Grader such as myself (perhaps this was karmic justice for roasting Michael and his fear of clowns for years?)

Many moons later, I finally decided to get "knee deep in the dead," purchasing DOOM I and II on the Xbox Arcade, and then following up with DOOM 64 a year or two later.

All three were awesome. DOOM the first, in particular, easily stands out as one of the best games of all time, with an intuitive design that's immediately understandable and immensely satisfying.

Then came DOOM 2016. 

I was excited to see a game that boldly embraced an old-school mindset, cleanly breaking from what had become the modern-day standard of the genre.

With bated breath, my Tomato-wallpaper-painting pal, along with myself, giddily rented the DOOM's triumphant return... and we hated it. 

Too imprecise, grating music, lack of a genuine visceral crunch, hollow-feeling guns and movement, and a general sense of floatiness turned us off to the experience, and we went back to tearing through DOOM I's co-op to wash the taste out of our mouths. 

As seems to be my fate with this demon-slaying franchise, I decided to get DOOM 2016 for Switch, believing that my initial, incredibly limited hands-on experience wasn't painting the whole picture, and I was right. 

This time around, I loved it. I played obsessively, seeking out every secret and bit of lore I could find, and relishing in the increasingly frenzied combat. While my initial complaints regarding a lack of a sense of weight and impact still stood strong (for the most part), I finally understood what the game was about, and thoroughly enjoyed it.... at least for a while.

About three quarters of the way through, DOOM 2016 started to make my stomach churn. Even now, as I type this overly-long article, I'm feeling uneasy.

As weird as this sounds, DOOM 2016 started to weigh on my soul. 

The source of this growing discomfort wasn't the incessant violence, sensory overload or gruesome demons, though the combination of the three may have played a part. No, the actual core to my increasing anxiety wasthe game's story. Yes, a DOOM game's story, of all things, started to freak me out. 

What began as a genuinely hilarious skewering of late-stage capitalism (the UAC ignoring the obvious insanity and clear dangers of mining actual Hell in order to get rich) and the cult-like mindsets of corporations (UAC employees and higher-ups literally joining a cult, complete with human sacrifices and abhorrent experiments) started to become all too real. 

At first, I was legitimately laughing out loud. As you go through the ruined halls of the UAC compounds, you see holograms of cheerful corporate spokespersons singing the praises of the company, but there's always an ironic edge to it. 

Things like "look around you; these happy faces don't lie! Life at the UAC is one filled with endless joy!" while the floor is littered with piles of butchered corpses, or how, after a particularly inspiring speech about the importance and meaning of even the smallest tasks, the Spokesman ends with something like "and remember, the Council of the Forgotten Ones is always watching. You have been warned."

But as the game went on, things became... more grim. 

The macabre and disturbing imagery of torture, sacrifice, and God knows what else, coupled with the increasingly threatening holograms and heartless entries from the "employee handbook" made me realize just how real this whole thing really is. 

It may have been presented as a joke at first, but it really dawned on me that the subjects the game is so violently skewering are how our world actually is. How greed and corruption permeates our governments and societies in a way that feels almost irremovable. How relentless capitalism cares about absolutely nothing else but squeezing as much power and profit as they possibly can out of everything, regardless of irreversible consequences (think the environment, human life and value, etc.), or how corporations don't genuinely give a single damn about their employees, barely treating as anything more than expendable slaves while fully expecting theme to give their all for a meaningless cause without a second thought.

All of this filled with me hopelessness and despair, to the point where not even tearing literal demons limb-from-limb with my bear hands could make me feel better. 

Of course, I was already aware of these awful cancers that make our reality a genuinely sick place, but for whatever reason, the way DOOM 2016 presented its nihilistic viewpoint of the subject matter was extremely... impactful... unlike its action and gunplay. Go figure.

(Editor's Note: yeah, I realize this essay abruptly ends right as it's getting to the meat of the subject, but I felt so bad revisiting these thoughts that I really didn't want to elaborate on them any further. It's lame, I know, but it probably ends up doing a better job of explaining how much Doom 2016 scared me more than anything I could have written.)

In 2018, two of my staunchest beliefs were not only challenged, but utterly destroyed:

1) There would never be a Halloween movie that lived up to the original. 

2) I would never buy the entire soundtrack to a horror movie (though Hellraiser and its sequel were pretty tempting.)

Against all odds, the latest Halloween film was nothing short of a modern-day slasher masterpiece that miraculously managed to nail just about everything that everyone adored about the series while simultaneously infusing it with new life in unexpectedly satisfying and spectacular ways. 

Likewise, the legendary John Carpenter returned to the franchise that put his name on the map and he, along with his son, Cody, delivered a soundtrack that, much like the film, contained the essence of what made the original so compelling while imbuing it with a contemporary edge that proves just how much Carpenter has grown as a composer and musician.

While the entire soundtrack is absolutely worth a full purchase, there are three pieces in particular that I wanted to discuss for this Halloween edition of "Weekly Soundcheck," so let's head to Haddonfield to celebrate "the night HE came back home..."

Arguably the most popular cue on the soundtrack, it's not hard to see why: "The Shape Hunts Allyson" is the perfect evolution of the style and substance of Carpenter's earlier work, taking what worked and amping it up to the next level.

The spine-tingling synths, the increasingly powerful (and threatening) pulses of digital distortion and the subtle additions of new elements all come together to create a tense track that not only does its job in the context of the film, but is so musically compelling that's worth listening to on its own. 

Absolutely brilliant. 

"Prison Montage" is one of the more massive departures from the core sound of classic Halloween music, but it's also a prime example of Carpenter's expanded and refined style, not to mention an absolutely outstanding piece of music.

Expertly paced, emotionally impactful and fully immersed in an intoxicatingly heavy atmosphere, "Prison Montage" may seem somewhat repetitive first, but it's continually evolving, slowly creeping towards an incredible climax that culminates in an impressive integration of classic Halloween synth sounds and the iconic theme itself.

This is a piece you can easily get lost in: it rhythmically and methodically drawing you into its relaxing, yet simultaneously sinister, world.

Although I'm excited this movie is getting a sequel, there's a part of me that's actually kind of bummed.

Halloween (2018) is the perfect conclusion to the franchise: there's a general sense of finality permeating the film, as long-standing character arcs come to a close and the tables are satisfyingly turned against the Shape, once and for all.

After years of suffering, Laurie Strode gives Michael Myers a taste of his own medicine, beating him at his own game. In the end, the Shape created a monster that surpassed even himself and, in (what should have canonically been) his final moments, he can do nothing but silently stare at the woman who killed the Boogeyman, while burning into oblivion. 

"The Shape Burns" is not only the ultimate exclamation point for this sequence and the film's finale, in general, but the definitive capstone for the entire franchise. 

Masterfully taking the iconic Halloween theme and transitioning it towards the major mode, the once-ominous and unnervingly tense cue finally reaches a resolution, decades later.

As the track goes on, additional synths join the celebration, each of which adding in elements of hope, triumph and relief.

In incredibly fitting fashion, these triumphant elements (possibly representing Laurie and her family) eventually overwhelm the de-fanged Halloween theme, taking center stage as the piece that once represented a seemingly unstoppable serial killer becomes nothing more than background noise.

"The Shape Burns" is a thematically perfect conclusion to the entire Halloween saga. It takes everything that the series embodied and, much like how Laurie turned the tables on Michael, flips it upside-down.

With the film channelling everything that has ever worked for the Halloween series, and the music flawlessly complimenting it by embodying the emotional core, I'm hard-pressed to a think of a more ideal conclusion to a long-running franchise than Halloween (2018.)

As I said earlier, I'm definitely still excited to see more of what this creative team has to offer in terms of a sequel, but something tells me that, no matter what it happens, it'll never be as lushly fitting of a finale as what we got here, thanks in no small part to "The Shape Burns" and the rest of the stellar soundtrack. 

For the entirety of my educational life, up until college, I went to Catholic School.

They weren't draconian (though I had a nun for a teacher in 2nd grade) and I think I turned out alright (hell, we were learning about evolution and man-made climate change as 9 year-olds), but they definitely instilled some kind of religious fear into my soul. For whatever reason, this psyche-haunting fear only showed itself when it came to the devil, the desecration of sacred areas and objects or a combination of the two. 

For example, in third or fourth grade, I was at a sleepover and, after we had had our fill of video games and Eiffel 65, the birthday boy's mother offered us the choice of two movies: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, or The Exorcist.

Like the woefully ignorant and bravado-filled youths that we were, we had a good laugh and picked The Exorcist.

We were wrong. We were fucking wrong.

By the time we had seen the first subliminal image, we were basically shitting ourselves. And while that moment certainly played a part in my nightmares for the next few weeks, one image in particular scared me the most: the vandalized statue of Mary. 

That thing haunted me in a way that I can barely compare to anything else. 

I eventually got over it, but something I never got over was the similarly religiously-charged, pants-shitting terror I feel when I look at the desecrated church in Diablo.

Playing the demo as an innocent youth, I was blown away by the perceived vastness of Tristram, the game's hub world.

Dreary, downtrodden and bathed in moonlight, Tristram made an immediate impression on me, and I began to explore it and its surroundings in earnest. Despite the absence of anything remotely threatening, the town's foreboding atmosphere began to eat away at my comfort level. 

Soon, I wandered a bit too far off the path, and began panicking. I had a fear of getting lost at the time, like being separated from a parent at a store or being left at the edge of the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland (thanks, Dad!), and this situation was conjuring the same feeling. 

I rushed through a forest of dead trees, nearly crapped my pants when I ran into a cow, bumped into a mausoleum and then saw a road. Still thoroughly unsettled, I did my best to regain some composure and began walking back towards what I thought was civilization.

That's when I saw it.

It stood off a worn path to the North of town, surrounded by the black of night and a foreboding wilderness. Once the house of God, this massive, deteriorating building had become the home of something else entirely. 

Unexpectedly coming upon the building was a shock to my system, especially after the frenzy of being lost for so long. Then there was the fact that it was a church, and not just any church, but the church that the townsfolk had told me about. And its decaying, dilapidated structure? Terrifying. 

But it was the glow from deep within, the unearthly, hellish glow that struck the deepest chord within me. 

Something burned bright in the belly of this church, and it was not of this Earth. 

The way the rays of orange light stretched out of the windows and across the cemetary, and how the dim, sinister glow acted like some kind of ominous invitation as it filled the church's doorway made my heart pound. 

This place was haunted.

In my mind, this is the picture in the dictionary of what a haunted location looks like. This isn't some poltergeist or dead grandpa ghost, either; this was sinister. 

My mind raced: who knew what kind of foul, sacrilegious and blasphemous rites were being carried out at that very moment? Who knew what demons and devils awaited in the basement? What unholy and torturous acts would I bear witness to?

With a lump in my throat and sweat dripping down my face, I decided to find out...

My warrior said it best: "the sanctity of this place has been fouled."

The jarring silence of the loading screen was replaced with pulsing, threatening music that was beyond fitting. 

Something truly malevolent was at work within this basement, and the forces of Hell seemed to be taunting me to seek them out. And, despite being filled with fear, I did exactly that... at least until the demo ended. 

I'll be the first to admit that I've done a fairly poor of job of conveying what it is about Diablo's church that's resonated with me so much over the years. 

But maybe that's okay; maybe it stands for itself. 

Diablo's atmosphere remains incredibly impressive, even today. The aesthetic, the music, the writing, the graphics, the overall design... everything works in perfect tandem to create a powerful sense of dread, with the exterior of the haunted church being the ultimate example.

Still... there's just something about this abandoned church in the dead of night with an unexplained, unearthly light emanating from deep within that touches a nerve in my soul.

In fact, it's one of the few things in my life that's actually given me literal nightmares, all of which involve a building standing alone against a clear, night sky, bathed in moonlight as an orange glow burns within its depths...  

After far too much Summertime suffering, the sun and its ilk have finally weakened, and the ghouls, ghosts and goblins have begun to stir from their slumber, bringing overcast skies, dreary weather and bitter temperatures with them. Indeed, the Halloween season is upon us, and with it comes Halloween blog content! 

Today we're going to be discussing the moody title screen of the SNES adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula.

The game itself isn't particularly special: it looks and plays like a Castlevania knock-off and, while it has its moments, it fails to offer anything as exciting as its fellow non-Castlevania peer, Nosferatu (especially when it comes to that game's impressively epic intro.)

All faults aside, though, it's impossible deny how unflinchingly bad-ass Bram Stoker's title screen is:

The film's batshit prologue is one of its best parts, and the game wisely chose to emulate that sequence for its title screen... somehow making it even trippier in the process.

Following​ silent credits over a black background, you're soon blindsided by a splash of vivid purples and pinks. 

Accompanied by bursts of lightning and an increasingly sinister theme that sounds like something Jesper Kyd would have cooked up in his earlier days, the camera pans across a battlefield littered with billowing flags and impaled corpses, until finally setting on a shadowy figure. 

Another bolt of lighting reveals it to be Dracula in the film's satanic, red armor, and just as we come to grips with this imposing figure, he disappears in a flash, revealing the game's title. 

While certainly not one of the most impressive title screens we've ever discussed, Bram Stoker's Dracula still manages to make a bold (and eerie) statement with its powerful imagery and heavy atmosphere.

“BoJack Horseman? I don’t want to watch that boob!”

You may have had similar (or even these exact) thoughts at some point when scrolling past, abandoning early on, or otherwise dismissing this series as just another loud, transgressive “adult” (aka middle school audience-aiming) cartoon. But, with the trailer for the final season having just dropped, I am here to tell you that you have been mistaken in doing so.

​Here’s the case for this beautiful, hilarious, and sometimes all too real show. 

First off, for those of you completely unfamiliar with the topic, here’s the general concept--BoJack Horseman is about the titular character, a washed-up TV star from the 90’s sitcom Horsin’ Around.

BoJack is insecure, heavily depressed, and, well, a horse. He’s a misanthropic anthropomorphic tour de force horse, of course. And he is surrounded (for a while, at least) by: 

• Diane Nguyen, a writer who feels she is never quite living the life she is supposed to be
• Todd Chavez, a twenty-something stoner who sleeps on BoJack’s couch and gets into various hijinks (varying from comic relief to comical plot movement and then some)
• Princess Carolyn, a pink cat (stay with me here) who is BoJack’s agent and on-again-off-again lover in pursuit of starting a family
• And, lastly, Mr. Peanutbutter (“peanut butter” is one word), a labrador retriever who is overly optimistic, but not always as carefree as he may seem

Okay, so now you have the basis of the show and see how absurd it all sounds (if not already a tinge sad), but I’m telling you: shit gets real.

To go into all the heartache would give too many major plot points away, but each of these characters goes through it to varying extents. I will, however, touch upon beats that hold up a mirror to society.

“Hank After Dark” is an exceptional episode in juggling a number of these concepts as well as some culminating/ongoing character storylines. The main premise is that long beloved TV personality, Hank “Uncle Hanky” Hippopopalous faces late-in-life allegations of (what the show never actually goes so far as to say, is otherwise assumed to be) sexual offenses (See: Bill Cosby). We are shown how fans do not want to believe the accusations, how the women who stand up are perceived and are subsequently treated and portrayed by the media, and how when Todd interrupts all this drama to bring everyone’s attention to a currently ongoing foreign genocide (which he may be accidentally directly responsible for), no one wants to hear it and no news outlet is reporting it because that’s not the story that people want to hear. This is an outstanding use of Todd, because he is not purely comic relief as he tends to initially be seen as. And despite how much I just told you about this episode, there’s still so much more packed into it for you to see for yourself.

Quickly hitting some other notables: 

“Thoughts and Prayers” which hammers home the titular platitude at every new mass public shooting that occurs during the course of the episode (yes, there are multiple, but how exaggerated is that even, America?)

“BoJack the Feminist” in which Hollywood forgives celebrities for their atrocious transgressions as long as they publicly apologize. Looking at you Mel Gibson. Hugh Grant. Christian Bale. Jeffrey Tambor (wait did he apologize?) List goes on.

​And then you have episodes like “Escape from L.A.” in which an incident on a boat involving a couple characters leaves you shook. You need a breather after that moment. 

Let’s take a closer look at that phrase here, because it needs extra attention: Comic. RELIEF.
This show necessitates it and addresses this on multiple levels of comedy. There are animal-based site gags (i.e. a homeless raccoon digging through a dumpster), party banners with mistyped messages, strings of fun dialogue (“I would love to take down Hippopopalous and finally topple the acropolis of monstrous hypocrisy that ensconces us.”), continual jabs at the TV/Film industry, and general lunacy that helps lighten the mood (I chuckle every time I see the Cartindale Cargoship because that’s just absurdity gold to me). But watch out for those final punchlines at the closing of episodes—they aim for the gut.
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Of course, there are many familiar voices that bring life to numerous characters, comedic personas such as— Will Arnett, Amy Sedaris, Alan Arkin, Stephen Colbert, J.K. Simmons, Olivia Wilde, both Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer, list goes on for days; just about every character is someone. So, it’s got the support of some of your favorite comic celebrities.

So, at first glance, this may not be your preferred aesthetic for a series, and I’ll admit, it took a minute for me to get on board. But, again, I believe this show looks as it does, because it is how it should look given the darker subjects the series handles (“That’s Too Much Man”). But beyond the initial style of animation by Lisa Hanawalt, you have these standout episodes that accomplish so much through animation –

”Fish Out of Water” is a nearly dialogue free episode spent almost entirely under the ocean and pays homage to silent cartoons while telling a beautiful but somewhat tragic story. (“Fish Out of Water” deserves an award of some kind and it’s a travesty that it doesn’t have one)

The show continues to push its artistic story-telling boundaries in episodes like “Time’s Arrow” which portrays aspects of dementia while delving into a character’s past, or the setup of “Ruthie” and how that makes its final spoken line nothing short of heartbreaking in context. 
​
“Yeah, well, it makes me feel better.” (I’m not crying, you’re… the one… who is also not crying…)

Yes, sometimes this show has a lot of real things to say about a lot of real subjects (coming back to this after the breather. See how I did that? Did you get it?). But I will tell you, the best times I have had watching this show were when I was already feeling down in the dumps.
 
I think, sometimes when you’re feeling sad, there’s nothing quite as comforting as knowing that you’re not the only one who feels like a failure, like a fuckup, like you can’t get your shit together. The exchange when Todd says he feels like his whole life is just a series of loosely-related wacky misadventures and Diane responds, “I think that’s just what being in your twenties is.” is a warm blanket on a cold night. After a date with someone who should probably just be a friend, BoJack asks, “What are we doing?” and a number of people watching at home are all too familiar with that question and how it feels to be unsure of the answer. Worse, maybe we also know the feeling of the answer given. Of course, who can’t relate to BoJack’s inner monologue, “These are cookies. This is not breakfast. You are eating cookies. Stop it. Stop eating cookies and go make yourself breakfast. Stop it. Don’t eat one more cookie. Put that cookie down. Do not eat that cookie. I can’t believe you ate that cookie.” These moments resonate with people and make them feel less alone in their own daily woes (and breakfast choices.)

I know people in my life who are BoJacks, Dianes, Mr. Peanutbutters, Princess Carolyns and Todds and I believe most fans of the show see themselves in at least one of the characters. Despite that maybe being sad, I think it’s also kind of a nice thing. We’re not alone when we relate to these characters (though that’s not to excuse any behavior we have in our real lives, as the show also had to address at some point.)

The biggest pitfall to overcome for BoJack Horsemanis the first half of the first season. I typically adhere quite strongly to the Three Episode Rule— If you don’t have me hooked in the first three episodes, you’re not worth watching.

Thank God I let Netflix autoplay run.

If you read reviews of this show from back in 2014, before it was released on Netflix, there were those who had viewed the first half of the season and they were not kind. It was basically dismissed by critics as loud and immature and not good.
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And that’s not to say there’s not good content in those first few episodes, but the show hadn’t nailed the perfect balance it seems to achieve by the end of the first season. Let that autoplay do its thing.

BoJack Horseman is unlike any other show I have ever seen. Its blend of comedy, drama, reality, absurdity, laughs and cries is nothing short of extraordinary. It expertly walks that line without having negative tonal dissonance. Raphael Bob-Waksberg, with the art of Lisa Hanawalt, bring us a ridiculous world that is all too much our own and if you do not give the entire first season of the show a real watch through, you are only doing yourself a disservice. 

So, what are you doing here? Go watch Bojack Horseman.

You can stream seasons 1-5 on Netflix now before the two-part season premiere on October 25th.