John Carpenter's "The Thing," a 1980s horror masterpiece that celebrates paranoia, follows a group of Antarctic researchers stuck on a base with a monster that wants to assimilate, mimic, and kill them. The film's characters don't know who their Thing is or where the Thing has escaped and disappeared to, so their confrontation with the creature becomes an internal conflict. Entertainment has explored this idea so thoroughly that, having experienced the perspective of a ferocious monster acting on instinct at the beginning of "Carrion," I felt a sense of calm at the simple, relatable motivation to simply consume and escape.

There is no over-the-top origin story, no scientist to tell the truth about the danger the seemingly underground laboratory is now in. People flee, the monsters eat those people, and since monsters really don't like to be shot, they should probably eat people before they get shot. This is Carrion's tutorial sequence, which introduces the player to smooth operation, attaching tentacles to every surface so that they can traverse the dank, underground laboratory without any interference or complication. Monsters move in the direction indicated, evoking the sensation of flight as they slither through the room and over the ceiling.

It is with the same enthusiasm that Carrion pursues all of its systems. The game's concept is Metroidvania, but it's an espresso shot version of it, with little actual exploration. You move monsters around the base, simply trying to get out, absorb biomass, grow bigger (and eat people), and then put that biomass in holes in the walls and scatter it around the lab. In doing so, you open the door to new paths and important advances that lead to new areas, which are also amazingly gross.

I rarely found myself not knowing where to go next, but I did get lost at times because there was no map of any sort. These cases are more annoying than necessary because of the maze of one-way drainage pipes, and for a game that relies so heavily on backtracking, the five-hour play time seems short.

While the puzzles themselves are quick to solve and do not take much time to execute, they can be a bit frustrating at times. In one situation, I killed a piece that was needed to solve the puzzle and had to start over from the previous checkpoint. Another time, I solved a puzzle in a way I did not intend, and had to start over for many frightening minutes, afraid that I had stopped the progress. Perhaps most infuriatingly, the checkpoints were only in certain rooms, and when I encountered combat in the distance, I was forced to repeatedly perform the puzzle I had solved in order to get back to where I had died.

The only enemies are humans, who either flee from the monsters or try to fight back, the latter action providing most of the conflict in the game. After a rough beginning, which is all about fast travel and carnage, Carrion transforms into a reverse survival horror scenario. Monsters are able to threaten enemies by growing, distracting them by breaking vents, and grabbing them with their tentacles when they are not looking. These combat scenarios become more difficult over time, but Carrion does not go so far as to frustrate the patient player.

Monsters gain power over time, but few truly change things in terms of mobility and are often essentially just keys to overturning different types of doors and obstacles. The ability to take over a human host is an interesting idea, but surprisingly rarely used in non-selective situations. As the monster's mass increases and it takes on the shape and form of a giant meat tube, it becomes somewhat unwieldy to control. It is no longer possible to consistently discern which end is moving forward or backward, as opposed to the more rapid and supple movements of the smaller forms.

"Carrion" captivates the viewer in an almost deliberate way. The monster, a mass of flesh, eyes, and mouth, twisting around corners and slipping through tiny crevices is nauseating, yet utterly mesmerizing. The room was quickly covered in blood and guts, which is a neat effect, but sometimes I couldn't see the pipe I was looking for.

I may not agree with the notion that "Carrion" is truly a great Metroidvania, but while there are old and new classics in the genre, this game at least takes it to a whole new level. The analog stick controls like a dream, and the monsters honestly have a fluidity to their movements that I've been looking for in other games for years. But far from being great, it quickly settles into a comfortable zone of a series of connected puzzles and doesn't surprise me much after that