Quake

Quake is a remastered compilation celebrating the 25th anniversary of id Software’s iconic first-person shooter, featuring the original game, its expansions (‘Scourge of Armagon’, ‘Dissolution of Eternity’, ‘Dimensions of the Past’), and a new expansion (‘Dimension of the Machine’). Set in a dark fantasy world, players assume the role of Ranger to battle the mysterious entity Quake through labyrinthine levels filled with Lovecraftian horrors. The remaster includes technical enhancements like 4K resolution, dynamic lighting, cross-platform multiplayer, and curated mods while preserving the game’s fast-paced, atmospheric combat.

Quake: Review

Introduction

In the pantheon of first-person shooters, few titles loom as large as Quake. Released in 1996 by id Software, it redefined the genre with its groundbreaking 3D engine and pioneering multiplayer, yet its development was fraught with turmoil and creative compromise. Fast forward 25 years, and Nightdive Studios’ 2021 remaster revitalizes this legendary title, bundling the original game, two official mission packs, and two new expansions—including Dimension of the Machine, a fresh episode from MachineGames. This comprehensive package seeks to honor Quake’s legacy while adapting it for modern platforms. As a foundational pillar of FPS history, Quake introduced true polygonal 3D worlds, client-server networking, and a modding ecosystem that birthed classics like Team Fortress. The remaster’s success hinges on balancing reverence for id Software’s vision with contemporary enhancements. This review will dissect Quake through the lens of its tumultuous past, enduring design, and the 2021 re-release, arguing that despite its age, the core experience remains a visceral, influential masterpiece—now more accessible than ever.

Development History & Context

Quake’s genesis is a microcosm of id Software’s innovative but volatile culture. Initially conceived as a side-scrolling RPG called The Fight for Justice (1991), starring a hammer-wielding D&D warrior named Quake, the project was shelved due to technological limitations. By 1994, John Carmack began developing a revolutionary fully 3D engine, while John Romero envisioned a fantasy action-RPG inspired by H.P. Lovecraft’s cosmic horror. However, Carmack’s simultaneous pursuit of a TCP/IP networking model and the engine’s relentless evolution caused chaos. The team burned out, and in a pivotal 1995 meeting, exhausted designers opted for a “safe” Doom-style FPS over Romero’s ambitious RPG vision. This decision fractured the studio; Romero departed shortly after release, and the original lineup—including Sandy Petersen, Michael Abrash, and American McGee—disintegrated.

Technically, Quake was a marvel. Its engine pioneered real-time 3D rendering, polygonal models (replacing sprites), dynamic lighting, and OpenGL support. Yet, this came at a cost: level designers constantly scrapped work as the engine shifted, leading to the game’s infamous tonal whiplash—futuristic bases colliding with gothic castles. Programmed on NeXTSTEP before being ported to MS-DOS, the engine’s complexity exposed hardware limitations; Intel’s Pentium processors outperformed rivals in floating-point math, causing performance issues on non-Intel CPUs. Carmack’s insistence on a unified development space exacerbated tensions, but the result was a landmark. By late 1995, with the engine stabilized, id crushed the remaining gameplay into seven months of crunch, delivering a game that was both a technical triumph and a creative compromise.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

Quake’s narrative is intentionally elliptical, a product of its fractured development and Carmack’s infamous dismissal of story as “expected but not important.” The player assumes the role of Ranger (voiced by Trent Reznor), a soldier sent via slipgate portals to stop an invasion by a codenamed entity, “Quake.” The plot unfolds through terse manual text and interstitial screens, revealing an invasion by interdimensional forces led by the Lovecraftian elder god Shub-Niggurath. Each episode revolves around collecting a magic rune—Earth Magic, Black Magic, Hell Magic, and Elder Magic—to open a gateway to Shub-Niggurath’s lair.

Themes of cosmic horror permeate the game. The disjointed levels—military bases, decaying cathedrals, and lava-filled catacombs—mirror the narrative’s disintegration, creating a sense of unease. Enemies like the Shambler (a living thunderstorm) and Spawn (resembling tentacled horrors) evoke Lovecraft’s dread, while the manual’s lore hints at a larger mythology (e.g., the “Formless Spawn of Tsathoggua”). Yet, the story’s minimalism is both a strength and weakness. It fuels speculation but lacks cohesion, with levels feeling like disconnected vignettes rather than a cohesive journey. The remaster preserves this ambiguity, adding minor lore tweaks but avoiding exposition, ensuring Quake remains a game of atmosphere over plot.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

Quake’s gameplay loop is deceptively simple: navigate non-linear levels, defeat enemies, find keys or switches, and locate exits. What sets it apart is its verticality—a direct response to the engine’s capabilities. Romero mandated that no room could be replicated in Doom, forcing designers to exploit Z-axis movement. Platforming challenges, such as jumping across pegs or using elevators to traverse underwater sections, add tension. Combat is relentless and unforgiving, prioritizing speed and precision over cover-based tactics. The arsenal, while iconic, suffers from balance issues; the shotgun feels weak early on, and the rocket launcher overshadows most weapons. Movement mechanics like strafe-jumping and rocket-jacking (using explosions to propel oneself) became foundational for speedrunning and esports, though the remaster simplifies these with accessibility options.

Multiplayer was Quake’s true revolution. Initially limited to LAN play, the free QuakeWorld update (1996) introduced client-side prediction, enabling stable dial-up internet matches. Deathmatches were chaotic and skill-based, spawning esports legends like Dennis “Thresh” Fong, who won Carmack’s Ferrari in 1997. The remaster modernizes this with crossplay, up to 8-player online matches, and 4-player split-screen co-op. Nightmare difficulty—reducing health to 50—adds brutal replayability. Critically, the remaster’s UI overhaul introduces quick-slots and widescreen support, though purists may lament the loss of software rendering’s grim aesthetic. Systems like rune collection and secret areas retain their charm, but mission packs (Scourge of Armagon, Dissolution of Eternity) introduce questionable elements, like reskinned weapons and underwhelming power-ups.

World-Building, Art & Sound

Quake’s world-building is a patchwork of discarded concepts, resulting in a unique aesthetic. Environments alternate between sterile military outposts (Episode 1) and decaying medieval fortresses (Episode 2), with later episodes descending into Lovecraftian nightmare realms. The art direction, helmed by Adrian Carmack, blends heavy metal and horror influences, using browns, greys, and sickly greens to evoke decay. Textures are often muddy in software rendering but gain clarity in hardware modes, and the remaster’s dynamic lighting and 4K support amplify this, adding fog and particle effects that enhance atmosphere without sacrificing the original’s oppressive tone.

Sound design is Quake’s greatest strength. Trent Reznor’s Nine Inch Nails soundtrack—ambient drones, industrial clangs, and distorted whispers—creates an unsettling tension, with tracks like “Quake Theme” and “Anarchy” defining the game’s auditory identity. The absence of traditional music during firefights heightens chaos, while weapon sounds (e.g., the shotgun’s BOOM-SJK-BOOM) and enemy vocalizations (e.g., the Shambler’s guttural roar) are iconic. The remaster restores the CD soundtrack, though some purists lament the loss of its lo-fi charm. Enemies are visually distinct but polygonal, with the Shambler and Vore standing out as memorable horrors. Ultimately, Quake’s world is less a coherent setting and more a psychological landscape—an amalgam of dread and adrenaline that remains influential in its grimness.

Reception & Legacy

Upon release, Quake was a critical darling, praised for its innovation and multiplayer, but criticized for its thin narrative and inconsistent level design. PC reviews averaged 93%, hailing it as a “technological marvel” while noting its “monotonous” visuals. Sales were strong (1.4 million copies by 1997) but hampered by shareware piracy, with id canceling its ambitious distribution model after 150,000 unsold units. Ports fared variably: the Saturn version lambasted for omitted multiplayer and blurry graphics, while the N64 port earned 76% for its smoother frame rate. Culturally, Quake birthed machinima (e.g., Ranger Gone Bad) and modding legends like Team Fortress and Threewave CTF. Its esports legacy cemented competitive FPS as a viable sport.

The 2021 remaster recontextualizes Quake for a new era. Critics lauded its content value, performance, and accessibility—Nintendo Life awarded it 100%, calling it the “definitive version.” Yet, some noted minor performance hiccups on Switch with maxed settings, and Hooked Gamers deemed it “basic” compared to modern shooters. Commercially, it succeeded as a budget-friendly nostalgia package, but its true legacy lies in preservation. By including Quake 64 and mod support, Nightdive Studios ensured Quake’s influence endures. As John Romero reflected, Quake “tore id apart” but paved the way for Half-Life and online shooters. Its source code release (1999) fueled countless ports and mods, proving that even a flawed masterpiece can catalyze evolution.

Conclusion

Quake is a study in contradictions: a game born from chaos that defined order; a relic of 1996 that remains compulsively playable. Its remaster is a triumph of preservation, offering both historical fidelity and modern conveniences. While the narrative feels fragmented and combat unbalanced, the vertical level design, atmospheric dread, and revolutionary multiplayer ensure its relevance. Nightdive Studios’ enhancements—dynamic lighting, crossplay, and new content—honor id Software’s vision without sanitizing its rough edges. Quake is not merely a museum piece; it’s a visceral experience that demands precision and rewards exploration. For FPS historians, it’s an essential artifact; for modern players, it’s a challenging but gratifying dive into gaming’s past. Ultimately, Quake’s legacy is sealed: it didn’t just change gaming—it built the foundation upon which modern shooters stand. This remaster isn’t just a re-release; it’s a testament to a flawed, brilliant landmark. Verdict: Essential.