The Confusion of the Sinkhole

Dylan Faden’s first adventure out of the Federal Bureau of Control’s Oldest House in almost two decades is one drenched in urgency. His sister, the now director of the FBC, is missing, and the cataclysmic Hiss has overwhelmed Manhattan. What should be a simple objective is fittingly confusing in the standard Remedy formula, and despite enjoying the combat, my first hours with Dylan were underwhelming.

Then came the sinkhole. 

The objective was simple. Head down into the sinkhole that had opened up using a large drill, and go deeper than any normal FBC employee had done. Only Dylan was believed to be capable enough, and by proxy, that meant only I was capable. At first, it was your standard affair for the game. Fixing problems no one else could.

By this point, Dylan (and therefore, you) should know how to switch surfaces. It’s a mesmerizing mechanic that even the strongest Gravity Rush players will feel disoriented with at first, and I am one of those. Normal apartments in the sinkhole pattern the depths, forcing you to engage with this mechanic to not only survive, but to fight the Hiss. 

Even with the bending of normal walls, contorting into a kaleidoscope of confusion, the sinkhole mission doesn’t become engaging right there. In fact, even as you enter a large cavern that, in comparison, feels like a simple arena, it’s still not truly interesting. Waves of enemies assault you, and a boss makes things somewhat challenging, but it results in what feels typical. Go in, kill enemies, get out.

Except, one small problem. Getting out ends up being much harder than entering. Stuck as things go awry, you hear a song play as the apartments that you had gotten used to eventually have now become a spiral, with a simple cable from the drill leading you back to the surface. Zoe’s voice comes through on the radio, but she doesn’t respond to Dylan’s assurances. Instead, she simply narrates.

There’s a strange hopefulness to the music, but it’s a slight whisper in the background as Dylan’s traversal abilities become the main soundtrack to your escape. The whoosh of the change in gravity echoes across the empty apartments, with the soft blue glow of TVs lighting your way up. Zoe’s constant chatter, with it being clear she’s been speaking for quite some time—despite feeling like mere minutes to you—keeps the pressure of the story going. 

Unlike Control’s Ashtray Maze, which serves as a massive action-packed sequence that shows how far Jesse has come—and serves as a twisting hallway to let you use her arsenal of powers to the tune of a rock song—Dylan’s isn’t a climatic point, nor is it near the end of the game. In fact, it serves as a transition towards Act 2, and for that, it feels far more involved in Dylan’s place in the world.

This isn’t a Dylan comfortable in the world. This isn’t a Dylan who has secured a range of powers to defeat the Hiss. This is a Dylan who is both physically and mentally lost. The sinkhole’s twisted take on something normal serves as a reminder to what Dylan has been used to. Routine, repetition, and no escape in sight. 

As Dylan started reaching the conclusion of the sinkhole, the surface becoming teasingly close, it finally clicked with me. Things continued to get strange as the complex expanded, a large void opening up in the centre. The more twisted it became, the more simple it felt and the easier it became to navigate a world without rules, but the essence of something remarkable was clear. 

There’s no enemies blocking your path and breaking up the pacing, nor are there any cutscenes stopping you from experiencing it all with your own hands. I was enamoured by the world and the lore, but I was engaged due to the combat. Strip the latter away, and yet, Resonant doesn’t become less. If anything, it becomes stronger.

Control Resonant, itself, is fairly simple. The world is messed up, a sister is missing, and there’s a reality-ending threat (or two). It’s nothing overly original, at least at a meta level. What makes Control Resonant wholly original is what it does with those reality-altering problems—ones that will see you both mesmerised and lost—and make them a highlight, while also connecting it directly to the character’s own agenda.

While Resonant doesn’t deliver an exemplary sequence like this again, it did make everything before and after feel more than just style. And, a late-game level design only pushed the idea further, although I won’t spoil it—it’s something you should experience for yourself.