El Paso, Elsewhere may seem a mimicry of multiple games and ideas. But its impeccable writing and vibrant soundtrack carve a path through evolving chapters of demon hunting and introspection, leaving the player thirsty for more.
If there has been one game I’ve referenced more than any other–especially in the context of a review–it’s been Hotline Miami.
Dennaton Games’ masterpiece has acted as a kind of zenith in both the independent gaming space and as an inflection point for games that are relatively mechanically simple but coated in an effervescent style making them unforgettable. There’s just something infectious–or borderline pervasive–about that hyper-violence, blood-soaked in its one-hit kills and glitzy, moody synthwave. In the years since its release in 2012, Hotline Miami has been a touchstone in many ways, undeniably making it a fixture in how I place other games in its context, even tangentially.
El Paso, Elsewhere thankfully does not reside in a crypt of wannabe imitations that attempt to say or do something yet cannot rise past an initial throbbing pulse. While I have no misgivings about the tedium behind crafting any kind of video game, there seems to be an instinct that an attractive soundtrack and a thrilling mechanical hook are enough to carry the weight of hours of narrative and/or gameplay.
Don’t get me wrong, El Paso, Elsewhere has a very appealing soundtrack. Its hip-hop beats and on-the-nose lyrics that at one point become enmeshed with the flashing lights of a spiraling, infinite room prick one’s ears up many times. And it certainly has a flashy mechanical hook, one inspired by 1999’s The Matrix. But these elements could have been tossed into the mix of several other games to relative degrees of success. Why then, does Strange Scaffold’s smoothie of ideas enrapture so efficiently?
One might be reductive and say that El Paso, Elsewhere shamelessly borrows from many sources, creating a referential topiary that any player worth their salt would be able to pluck a few noteworthy flowers from.
Fan of Remedy Entertainment? El Paso, Elsewhere bursts at the seams with Max Payne‘s pill-popping angst. Keep the bullet time dives, replenishing health with an addiction to medication, but replace the criminals and family murderers with vampires and other demons. Cull some Alan Wake referential fourth-wall breaking. Take Hotline Miami‘s relentless flood of baddies and cramped hallway back to the root of why it’s all so familiar.
James Savage is the centerpiece at this buffet line of wanton death and destruction. The player almost immediately understands Savage to be molded in the same vein of tortured, hard-boiled detective as Payne. Savage’s gruff, despondent narration is an instantaneous knife in the gut, delivered by unquestionably masterful writing.
There’s no denying that El Paso, Elsewhere is a game crafted on a small budget. But at every turn, Strange Scaffold bucks this assumption. Yes, it is initially jarring to watch James Savage look directly at the camera and his face literally being a grainy texture slapped onto a chunky polygon. A close-up of any character or enemy encapsulates a visual style reminiscent of a PlayStation 1 era game in a pre-alpha state. Think the Final Fantasy tech demo for the Nintendo 64 but in HD. Yet it works. The thick nature of the game’s visuals may be a result of some kind of constraints but, more importantly, they feel purposeful, raw.
El Paso, Elsewhere slaps the player in the face with a kind of matter-of-fact attitude enhanced by Savage’s bluntness and despair when directing his thoughts at the player. You see, the world is falling apart all because of his ex, Draculae, a vampire. She is performing a kind of ritual in a hotel in El Paso that is beginning to distort reality.
Players will pull at narrative threads over the course of the game, usually spaced out between a few chapters. James literally goes into an elevator and begins a descent into a never-ending void distorted and shaped by memory. It’s a visual treat to have the wavy ebb and flow of the colored void always visible above the player. Multiple disparate elements are sewn together to befuddle the player while still giving them a sense of place.
And it’s Savage’s evolving narration that often causes the game to transcend past any hesitant impressions. El Paso, Elsewhere has a tightly written script that cycles between humor, emotional fatigue, and mystical lore all to equal degrees of success. I was blown away by the phenomenal quality of Savage’s weary musings to the player. He constantly peels back layers of himself and his relationship with Draculae. To him, the fantastical world of demons and ancient Egyptian terrors is second nature and he presents it to the player as such. Given more gravitas by Xalavier Nelson Jr.–who also directed the game–and Emme Montgomery, Savage and Draculae are riddled with humanity and it makes any scene with narration the more enrapturing to watch.
Is it bad to be shocked at a high bar of quality, especially when having no expectations? Perhaps that is one of the primary strengths of El Paso, Elsewhere. It is such an approachable game that offers no definitive impression at first glance. Watching the game in action, one might think it is literally a corridor shooter from an almost bygone era of PC games. A quick trailer that pieces together some cutscenes offers only a surface-level primer on the cavernous depth of the two main characters. As the journey through El Paso, Elsewhere‘s numerous and quick chapters, the story becomes more intimate, more painful, more expansive, and all the more captivating.
There is an unprecedented amount of style and polish for a game that seems to operate on such a micro level. But I think the deception is a massive part of its appeal, luring players into its embrace much like the void continues to lead Savage deeper and deeper into the depths of chaos.
And mechanically, I think El Paso, Elsewhere‘s combat is perhaps the most unremarkable thing about it but even that is done in such an honest, satisfying way that one can’t help but have fun.
As I mused with Hotline Miami, El Paso, Elsewhere does not impede the player’s journey with complexity. Over the course of the game there are only a handful of enemies introduced. Basic vampires are alerted to sound and the presence of Savage, bursting through doors and giving chase. Werewolves stalk slowly until they quickly leap at the player in a kind of jump scare. Screaming banshee maidens teleport and toss balls of energy with high damage. Strange Scaffold gives players plenty of time to become familiar with one enemy type before introducing a new one, slowly incorporating new tricks and scenarios meant to challenge the player in small ways, pacing the intensity throughout.
Eerily identical to Max Payne, James Savage can dive and shoot his guns. If he has enough of a meter, time can be slowed to do better, more precise damage. A limited number of wooden stakes can be held that allow for one-hit melee kills to almost everything.
But I had played over ten chapters of El Paso, Elsewhere before I truly remembered all the tools at my disposal. The player is gently nudged at times to remember these things, placing walls in front of the player with only a waist-high opening that must be dived through. Stakes can be found simply by breaking wooden objects and the player may forget how useful they are until they forget about manually needing to reload a gun. Suddenly, vampires were coming from all angles and werewolves were stalking me and puppets were dancing towards me while banshee screams made me afraid of incoming splash damage.
Then you begin to slow down time more. You empty a clip of dual pistols. Rush in with a couple blasts of a shotgun. Douse a horde in the spray of an uzi. You forget to reload, or remember to. At its default difficulty with no modifiers, El Paso, Elsewhere is generous with ammo and health if one is thorough in exploration. But a challenge still exists.
When the void begins to bob and weave out of being a hotel or a graveyard or a medieval manor and begins to mutilate these settings, coagulating them into each other, things start to become increasingly intense. Open spaces become less frequent. Enemies seemingly bleed out of the walls or appear out of nowhere. Strange Scaffold distorts expectations and plays with level design.
You see, the goal of many levels is quite easy. Find and free hostages and then go to the exit. At first, the path forward is linear and the path back to the elevator is almost a literal backtracking, done by following glowing green exit signs. Because the void has no ceiling, players can often see a beam of light indicating where a hostage is and where the exit is. And then color-coded doors appear that need locks. Or a previously inaccessible path will open up while another is closed off.
While I do not think it is impossible to become lost in these levels, it could be a bit confusing, a slight bit of visual noise where all the elements look a bit similar to each other. But momentum is the purpose here. A pulsing soundtrack that infrequently transforms and syncs up with the narrative’s current theme or predicament makes the player feel like a badass sawing through demons. With a small arsenal and limited mechanics, El Paso, Elsewhere allows itself to be focused on raw shooting, briskly charging in and out of rooms to dive deeper and deeper into the void.
El Paso, Elsewhere is unflinchingly simple in ways… ways that matter most. Because Strange Scaffold doesn’t get lost in the weeds of incorporating too many twists into the gameplay, it allows players to grow confident in Savage’s ability and heroic purpose. Because that sense of self is needed when the utter shellshock moments of style and narrative continue to raise the bar. Like biting into a chocolate truffle only to find that the nougat inside is dense with personality.
These are the elements that tend to make a game exponentially memorable. Yes, your game should be fun to play. It does not have to be uniquely different in terms of shooting and navigation. Nor does it require a story that defies expectations and is packed with surprises. Here is a collection of thoughts and ideas that are honed in such a way that I was constantly on the edge of my seat not only wondering what was next but excited to continue extending my skills into unfamiliar challenges.
El Paso, Elsewhere is an audacious game that, while not afraid to borrow inspiration, plays with expectations. At its beating heart is a brisk, fun shooter. But that core is supplemented by an incredibly powerful narrative both expertly acted and expertly written, allowing all the action to be drenched with meaning. Style and substance don’t have to clash or supplant each other and in the case of El Paso, Elsewhere, it’s rife with both.
