People’s heads keep exploding for no good reason in I Am Your Beast and I’m very much onboard with it
Strange Scaffold’s newly released FPS I Am Your Beast is very fun for quite a few reasons, but chief among them is a deep appreciation for the poetry of good videogame violence. I’m not using the big P word just to throw out an overly worthy comparison to something we might associate with craft or beauty, but as a nod toward the game’s playful application of what I previously called ‘a euphoric splurge of murderous game verbiage’ one morning where I had clearly eaten my wordy Weetabix. The way its hurled knives and curb stomps and inexplicable decapitations flow together have an assonant, almost Suessian quality to them.
But it’s also, well, just a bit like Mad Libs. You play as Harding, a man who’s mythical lethality is established very early on. The showing is there in the moment to moment, but the telling is conveyed through cute tricks like how everyone you meet is so deeply afraid of Harding that they loudly keep track of exactly what weapon he’s holding at all times. The Mad Libs comes in through the fact that you can draw Harding a route between A and B, and it’s a given that multiple heads are going to come unstuck from necks along the way. You’re sort of just casually filling in the verbs that seem the most fun to you in the moment. One of the verbs is ‘hornet’. Hornet is a verb now.