Over the past years, gaming has evolved as a storytelling medium to rival film in its nuance and narrative complexity. That has opened the gate for complex, morally gray characters. Joel and Ellie to Lee Everett, Snake, and James Sunderland, we’ve now been conditioned to expect protagonists who are deeply flawed, emotionally scarred, and often one bad day away from becoming the villain.

But after playing Doom: The Dark Ages, it hit me — I missed this. I missed heroes who don’t brood or question or compromise. Just pure, mythic purpose and a single-minded focus on doing what’s right. Even today, some old-school archetypes feel fantastic and enjoyable when done right.

Doom: The Dark Ages reminded me the true meaning of a Hero

That’s Hero with a capital ‘H’

Last month wasn’t just about Doom: The Dark Ages. Watching Ethan Hunt in the latest and final Mission: Impossible movie made me realize just how good it felt to root for a hero with a capital ‘H’. Hunt is the definition of an indomitable force for good, leaping off cliffs with zero hesitation to save lives. At the same time, I played The Dark Ages, slicing hellspawn in two with my Shield Saw as the Doom Slayer. There was no internal conflict, no shades of gray to mull over. There was just righteous fury and unrelenting drive.

Ethan Hunt and the Slayer are indomitable, incorruptible forces for good.

Now, some of my favorite characters ever — Niko Bellic, David Martinez, Booker DeWitt, Ellie Williams — all have complex character arcs and narratives you could dissect for weeks. Regardless, there’s a reason that BJ Blazkowics and the Doom Slayer make me go starry-eyed even while I’m closer to 30 than I am to 20. These guys don’t flinch, overthink, or spiral into existential crises. They see evil, they know it’s evil, and they destroy it with extreme prejudice and overwhelming force.

I’m not tired of antiheroes — I just like being a kid sometimes

Questionable motives are great, but a tunnel-vision for doing the absolute right thing? Sign me up

BJ’s arc in the new Wolfenstein games is surprisingly human, but even in his most vulnerable moments, he never questions whether the Nazis need to be eradicated. The distinction between good and evil is clear as day throughout the game. Likewise, the Doom Slayer isn’t here to talk morality — he’s here to rip and tear until evil ceases to exist. And I’m here to smile alongside him as he makes even the prince of demons cower in fear.

It’s so rare now to find characters this morally absolute and narratively empowering. I love a tortured antihero as much as the next guy, but there’s a special kind of thrill to playing someone who represents unshakable justice. There’s no room for compromise, and that clarity? That’s refreshing in a world that feels more complicated every day.

Simple characters, simple stories — and why that’s not a bad thing

Dante, Blazkowicz, and the Slayer — they transcend plotlines and become reliable anchors

We’ve hit a point where “simple” is sometimes seen as a dirty word. If a character isn’t multi-layered and conflicted, or if a story doesn’t twist your mind into a pretzel, it’s labeled basic. But Doom and Wolfenstein prove that you don’t need narrative convolution to create something powerful. In both franchises, it’s good vs evil. You’re the good. Evil must die. That’s it. And it works. There’s no harm in a good ol’ fashioned story that puts a smile on your face.

Same goes for Devil May Cry’s Dante. On paper, he’s a snarky, cocky demon hunter — exactly the kind of character I should be tired of. But he’s written and performed with such an unapologetic style and self-awareness that he transcends parody. He’s not bogged down by emotional realism, ever. Instead, he’s elevated by theatricality (Michael Jackson’s moonwalk, anyone?). It’s not always about complexity. Sometimes it’s about confidence and execution.

One loading screen, one objective — the joy of level-based storytelling

I don’t always want to recall long, drawn-out conversations to remember what to do

While I’m still going to play the next big open-world adventure the medium offers, I must admit that I’m tired of bloated open worlds. I don’t want to hunt 35 bandit camps before I remember the main quest. Doom: The Dark Ages seemed to understand that perfectly. Each level is a self-contained playground of carnage, introduced by a short, punchy cutscene that sets the stage, then gets out of the way. One loading screen. One objective. Let’s go. Rip and tear.

The arena shooter formula might be considered old-school, but when you’ve got 40 minutes to unwind after work, nothing hits better than booting up a level, crushing it, and logging off without needing to consult a wiki. That kind of streamlined pacing is underrated, and it’s an archetype in itself — classic, efficient, and supremely satisfying.

Archetypes owning their identity makes everything so much fun

The confidence of camp can be unparalleled

Not every archetype needs to be gritty or grounded to work. Sometimes, they just need to go all in. That’s why I adore characters like the Slayer, Ethan Hunt, and even Resident Evil’s Leon Kennedy asking about bingo or suplexing infected villagers. They’re stylized to the max — over-the-top action heroes with exaggerated dialogue and impossible aura — and yet, they land because they own their identities. The Slayer walks everywhere slowly, knowing that demons, humans, and gods fear him. Leon might not always know what’s going on, but you can be sure he saves anyone who needs saving, even if they stab him in the back later.

There’s power in embracing the absurd. When a game or character stops trying to subvert expectations and just leans into its genre roots, it creates an experience that feels timeless. It’s not trying to be meta. It’s not winking at the camera. It’s just delivering the fantasy you signed up for. That confidence is magnetic.

Why archetypes are timeless — and why they’re making a comeback

Old-school energy meets modern flair

Look around and you’ll see it — audiences are starting to tire of endless deconstruction. We’ve seen the brooding protagonists, the plot twists that undermine the whole story, the endless irony. And now we’re circling back to basics — but not in a regressive way. Games like Doom: The Dark Ages, the Hitman trilogy, and Devil May Cry manage to reclaim old-school energy with modern flair.

After all, archetypes endure for a reason. They’re primal, instinctive, and universal. Whether it’s the indomitable hero, the evil empire, or the vengeance-fueled crusader, these story patterns hit something deep in us. And when games execute them well — with sharp design and bold commitment — they don’t feel dated. They feel eternal (wink, wink).

Sometimes, it’s just good versus evil, and that’s enough

We’ll always need complex characters and morally tangled stories — they’re important, and often beautiful. But once in a while, I need my dose of “bad-guys-go-boom”, and nothing more. There’s something irreplaceable about the archetype-driven experience — Doomguy doesn’t talk. He just acts. BJ doesn’t sulk — he resists. And Dante? He stylishly annihilates to get that SSS rank.

Doom: The Dark Ages reminded me that in a world full of gray, it’s okay to love something black and white. Good. Evil. Action. Purpose. Sometimes that’s all you need. And it still kicks ass.