El Paso, Elsewhere is beautifully simple.
Its levels are labyrinthine, its hunger for carnage is nearly endless.
El Paso, Elsewhere review
It comes in layers.
But there’s more to it, still.
But there’s something deeper and more rarified in its pulpy strangeness here.
El Paso, I decided after a few hours, really reminds me of Repo Man-era Alex Cox.
It’s witty and also kind of serious.
It’s shlock, but strikingly so.
It’s Americana but someone’s taken a step back to reveal the domestic oddness of it all.
And then it goes wild.
Objectives are simple enough.
you’re able to see where they are, sure, but getting to them is another matter.
God, though, it’s fantastic.
Enemies, meanwhile, are a similarly tight group.
Even early on, El Paso understands the liminal twitch and shudder of motels.
Then when things get berzerk, everything starts to shift.
The motel phases into misty graveyards, ancient tombs, rotting mansions and abattoirs, before restlessly recombing assets.
Literally, one level of hell is just toilets.
El Paso’s wonderfully direct, but it’s also just a lot.
But I powered through, and I’m glad I did.
El Paso’s final level is gorgeous and unexpected and a perfect cap for everything that preceded it.
Rattle the pills, ready the Cavalry, and call the elevator.
And maybe afterwards give Repo Man another watch.
