IN EXTREMIS
In space, no one can hear you scream. But aboard the Ishimura, anyone can hear your heartbeat through your bulky suit as you fight your way through a waking nightmare. Dead Space arrived to much fanfare in the late aughts, scaring the hell out of players with its Alien-inspired claustrophobia and an onslaught of grotesque monsters. I bought a copy for my PS3 ages ago but never mustered the courage to play it—until now. Having finally finished it, I must admit I didn’t find it quite as horrifying as I’d anticipated, which might not be a bad thing.
That said, the atmosphere created by the setting is undeniably effective. Running through dark, narrow corridors, reacting to every sound as if it might be the last thing you ever hear, can be genuinely stressful. You constantly expect to see the silhouette of a monster against the dim fluorescent lights. Before long, Dead Space begins sending enemies your way—from air ducts, through the floor, or lying in wait just around the corner.
Eerie silence gives way to deafening noise. Loudspeakers suddenly blare shrieking strings. It doesn’t take long before the atmosphere is drowned out by gunfire and roaring beasts. Whether they attack in swarms or alone, there’s usually a fairly straightforward way to deal with them—especially once you start upgrading your favorite gear with the power nodes scattered around the ship. Once I found my rhythm, the monsters stopped being frightening. That made the experience far more manageable, sanity-wise.
As Isaac Clarke—an awkwardly silent protagonist viewed from a third-person perspective—you’re tasked with investigating strange events aboard the USG Ishimura, a massive mining vessel orbiting a distant planet. You’re part of a repair crew, but it quickly becomes clear the ship has been overrun by an alien lifeform known as the Necromorphs. Let me get this out of the way: I don’t like silent protagonists, at least not in story-driven games where the character has a name and a visible presence.
Aside from that, it’s an excellent, Half-Life-inspired setup, supported by strong level design and pacing. The visuals hold up well, and the audio—whether sparse or overwhelming—is tormenting in all the right ways. Unfortunately, the promise of an intriguing story eventually collapses into predictable genre clichés. I found it hard to care, and when the final twist arrived, it struck me as one of those contrivances that retroactively casts doubt on everything that came before—unless I missed or misunderstood some crucial detail.
Despite the weak overarching plot, there are plenty of strong, surprising story beats that lead to memorable gameplay moments. The Ishimura is in a constant state of disrepair. Your progress is repeatedly halted by power failures, collapsed debris, malfunctioning elevators, and similar obstacles. Each chapter sends you on an urgent task to fix—or shut down—some critical system.
At times, this takes you outside the ship, navigating zero-gravity environments with limited oxygen while remaining alert for ambushes. Since sound doesn’t travel in a vacuum, you receive no audio cues and must constantly scan your surroundings, all while watching your oxygen supply steadily drain.
The ship’s crew has been slaughtered. By listening to audio logs and communicating with surviving contacts, you piece together the events that led to the disaster. While the story itself rarely surprises, the way it’s delivered is excellent, unfolding seamlessly with minimal interruptions. The only loading screens I recall were between chapters. One particularly inspired design choice is the use of Isaac’s suit as the HUD: health and stasis meters are displayed along his spine, and the inventory appears as a holographic projection that you navigate in real time, unpaused, while danger lurks nearby.
The Necromorphs themselves are revolting to behold—amalgamations of flesh twisted into horrific forms. Anyone familiar with John Carpenter’s The Thing will immediately recognize the influence. They emerge from vents, ambush you around corners, or wander aimlessly behind glass walls. Though generally humanoid, they seem capable of adopting almost any shape, reinforcing the unsettling sense that you’ve yet to encounter them at their worst.
Combat is both distinctive and highly effective. Rather than aiming for the head, you must dismember the Necromorphs by severing their limbs—if that’s even the right word for the protrusions they sport. This places heavy demands on your aim, and by extension, your nerves. A stasis module allows you to slow enemies temporarily, buying precious seconds to line up your shots. If ammo runs low, a kinesis module lets you hurl nearby objects as improvised weapons.
These modules also double as puzzle-solving tools. You’ll slide heavy objects into place or slow malfunctioning machinery long enough to slip past it. The puzzles themselves aren’t particularly difficult, but they often require execution under pressure as enemies close in from all directions. They add a welcome layer of tension, as do the dreadful turret sections, tricky boss fights, and various countdown-based scenarios.
Since the Ishimura is a mining ship, all weapons are repurposed industrial tools—designed to cut, crush, or incinerate material. Some excel at precise limb removal, while others are better suited for dealing with hordes and require less accuracy. You can only carry four weapons at a time, making anything beyond that a poor investment. Survival hinges on selecting the right tool for the job, whether it’s a pulse rifle for swarms of writhing flesh or the devastating contact beam against larger foes.
Dead Space also carries a curious anti-corporate undercurrent. Weapons, health packs, and ammunition must be purchased from terminals—items you’d expect miners to receive as standard equipment. Unsurprisingly, this theme bleeds into the narrative, which revolves around hubris, greed, and religious fanaticism. It’s another familiar notion: sometimes, humans are the real monsters.
That said, exploration yields plenty of supplies. Even as the GPS highlights the fastest route to your objective, it’s often worth detouring into side areas for valuable loot. I never truly ran low on resources, though the game flirts with survival-horror conventions. A limited inventory forces some planning—bringing what you need while leaving room for new finds—but it never reaches the nail-biting tension of Resident Evil. Quite simply, you’re showered with too many items.
Playing Dead Space for the first time seventeen years after its release was surprisingly enjoyable. Its reputation as a classic is well earned. What lingers are its inventive approach to third-person combat, excellent arsenal, tight controls, oppressive atmosphere, stressful zero-gravity sections—and a weak story told in a compelling way. The relative ease of combat and my abundance of resources dulled the horror somewhat, but the game has aged remarkably well. Even if the remake looks tempting, I’d urge anyone interested in the evolution of game mechanics not to overlook the original Dead Space.
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