Pointless Nostalgia: Wolfenstein 3D

100% Historically Accurate.

Wolfenstein 3D. The game's very name evokes a simpler time, a time where gameplay in three whole dimensions was worth noting in the title. While it wasn't really the first of its kind, Wolfenstein 3D was certainly the first successful first person shooter, and it's often considered the grandfather of the genre. Whenever I replay the game, it's obvious that modern classics like Call of Duty and Half-Life owe it a tremendous debt. That said, it is sometimes a little difficult to pin down exactly what this game's appeal was, even at the time of it's release (1992.) It's certainly has its fair share of problems.

The level design, for example, can be downright infuriating. Did you ever see that movie Shock Corridor, where the title shot was of a really long hospital corridor? Well, the corridors in Wolfenstein 3D are far, far longer than that. Whoever designed the levels of Wolfenstein 3D had a serious corridor fetish, because they're everywhere: corridors of metal, corridors of brick, corridors of wood, and corridors of stone. Straight corridors the length of a football field, and winding corridors that zig-zag more than an inebriated mosquito. Some of them are decorated with swastika banners or pictures of Hitler, but most are absolutely bare of any sort of landmark, and since there's no map whatsoever, you'll often find yourself wandering in the wrong direction or, worse yet, in a hopeless circle. Some of the more straightforward of the game's 60 levels can be easily beaten in under 2 minutes, but if you get trapped in a corridor maze you can expect to spend upwards of half an hour faffing about looking for the silver key, with only a low-fi version of the "Hort Wessel Lied" to keep you company.

The deluge of corridors isn't the only strange level design choice plaguing the game. For example, I don't think there's a window to be found in the entire game. No idea why. Frankly, if I were designing a castle, I would insist on windows. Everybody needs a little sunlight every once in a while. Maybe the level designer fell out out of a window as a kid, and now he has some sort of pathological fear of them. Actually, that would be a convenient and time-saving explanation for a lot of the other puzzling design decisions he made. Why are guards made to hide in tiny alcoves not much bigger than their bodies? Why are there chests full of gold coins lying around a prison? Why are there so many cavernous rooms decorated only by a single chandelier? Why are the keys to important sections of the castle left lying on the ground? And why the @^%! did the Nazis build movable panels behind pictures of Hitler, leading to rooms filled with goodies? Well, the level designer fell out of a window when he was little. What can you do?

So it's not the level design that elevated the game to its classic status... maybe the story and characters are a little sturdier. Well, as far as the story goes, you're B.J. Blascowitz, and as the game opens you're a captured American soldier who for some reason is the only the living prisoner in a 10-story castle. Patriotic fellow that you are, you quickly break out of your cell, and begin making your way from level to level, until you finally defeat the chief guard and escape. That's, uh... that's pretty much it for the first episode. In the next one, you break into a Nazi castle, make your way from level to level, kill the chief scientist of a Nazi mutant-making program, and escape. And it goes on like that until all six episodes are complete. As for characters, you've got the rather nondescript Mr. Blascowitz, as well as an array of foes both orthodox and bizarre:

Nazi Dogs - German shepherds, of course. The only enemy without a long-ranged attack, these bloodthirsty pooches will charge right at you and rip your throat out with their fangs if you're not careful. Fortunately, one bullet will bring them down. If you feel a little twinge in your heart at machine-gunning these critters, just remember: they're not just dogs, they're Nazi Dogs.
Brown Shirt Nazis - Armed with a pistol and, to judge by their battle cry of "halt, dawg," eager to dazzle you with impressions of American Idol judges, these guys are the basic workaday guards that you mow down by the dozen in every level of every game you've ever played. No big deal. Interestingly enough, they're the only type of enemy smart enough to wear a helmet, but the extra armor doesn't do much for their durability.
Blue Shirt Nazis - Every single one of these fellows loudly proclaims himself a "Schutzstaffel!" but since the real SS wore black uniforms as a rule, my guess is they're Castle Wolfenstein maintenance staff trying to artificially inflate their importance. Whatever the case, they carry a submachine gun and can take a lot of bullets. When they're killed, they yell out "mein leben!" ("my life!") an oddly profound death cry that ought to be right up there with "Et tu,Brute?" in the annals of fiction.
White Shirt Nazis - Sort of like the Brown Shirts, only faster on the draw. So fast, in fact, that they'll often appear to spot you through walls and half-opened doors, and shoot you before you have any chance of shooting them! Clumsy programming, or Matrix-like reaction times? You decide.
Nazi Frankensteins - If there's one thing I hate more than a Nazi, it's a Nazi Frankenstein. Wielding pistols embedded in their chests, a Johnny Unitas haircut, and an ashen face that only a mother could love, they're the most difficult enemies in the game. Fortunately, they don't show up too often. On an important side note, I've often heard these guys described at "mutants," and I'm here to tell you they're not. I know a goddamn Nazi Frankenstein when I see one. Don't believe the lies.
Flying Hitler Wizards - These strange creatures only appear on a couple levels. I'm not sure what they're supposed to be (clones? Robots? Robot clones?) but they look exactly like Hitler, wear black robes, hover through the air, and shoot out blobs of red pixels that cause heavy damage. Luckily the blobs move with an almost laughable lack of speed, and you can usually weave around them without breaking a sweat. Fun fact: if you dance around them while making the "Bionic Man" sound, you'll feel really cool.

Those are your enemies. There are bosses, too, but they're a pretty forgettable bunch. The only really memorable one is good old Hitler himself, who you fight at the end of Episode III. The rest are mostly Ivan Drago-looking fellows with chainguns for arms. Ho hum. All of the bosses can kill you in a big hurry if you're not careful, but they all end up being push-overs because their floors always have convenient secret rooms crammed with health packs and ammo.

So the story is virtually non-existent, and the characters, while eclectic, don't exactly demand an emotional investment. So what the heck is the secret to this game's success? Well, if you ask me, there's one thing that the game does very, very well: it lets you kill Nazis.

Yeah, that's right, that's the secret. Killin' Nazis. Killin' 'em dead. When you get right down to it, that's all the game is really about: wandering through corridors killing every Nazi you find, until you reach the Naziest Nazi of them all. And what do you do when you find him? If you guessed have a cup of tea and a discussion about the later works of Chaucer, you're wrong. Dead wrong, if you know what I mean. Killing Nazis is what drives the game forward: all of the key collecting, door opening, wall pushing, and chicken-dinner-eating is just a way to ensure that you get to kill the next group of Nazis. It really is a perfect premise: Nazis are the one group of human beings that almost nobody can object to the idea of massacring. The game even gives you 4 different ways to do the job: a knife, a pistol, a submachine gun, and a big ol' gatling gun, which for some reason has absolutely zero recoil or spin-up time. Sure, the knife is completely useless, and the pistol fires far too slowly to be useful against the more powerful enemies, but hey, they're better than nothing at all.

Anyway, as long as you have one of the two better weapons, the Nazi-killing aspect of the game is fun, satisfying, and surprisingly deep: since every enemy has an audio cue for when they spot you and start attacking, you can almost always get a grasp of what you're facing beforehand, and form a quick battle plan. You'll need it, too: your life drains quickly, and enemies often attack in huge groups, so effective crowd control and prioritizing your targets is imperative if you want to survive. The game is also a pretty good test of reflexes: you'll often turn a corner and run smack into an enemy, giving you only a split second to take him out before he grinds away half your health. And you'll want to stay alive at all costs, since whenever you die you go back to the beginning of the level, armed only with a pistol and with all enemies respawned. Of course, you could just save constantly and load whenever you take too much damage. It wouldn't be very sportsmanlike, but I'm just saying... it's an option.

After all, if there's one thing Wolfenstein 3D teaches us, it's that when it comes to Nazi killing, you've got to jump on every advantage you can. Those Swastika-sporting bastards will resort to almost anything: dogs, Frankensteins, or even miles of pointless corridors. No trick is too dirty for them, and if you're going to beat them, you've got to be willing to do whatever it takes. It's a lesson well worth learning, and it's the reason why Wolfenstein 3D remains such a valuable piece of edutainment so many years after its release.