WORDS: Eoin Moore
Beyond: Two Souls is a source of great frustration. It’s a game which holds, in perfect balance, unquestionably great potential and irritatingly overwhelming flaws. This most recent project from the people at Quantic Dream – outspoken supporters of the “videogames as art” argument and responsible for popularising the term “interactive fiction” – retains the ambition of their previous projects, yet it also retains the frequent feeling of disappointment and wasted potential also associated with their work.
The major difference between Beyond: Two Souls and its predecessor, Heavy Rain, is that it is a much more linear game. The playable cast has been cut down to just two inseparable characters. Player choice has largely been removed, even over minor things such as the camera and simple interactions in the environment. By removing many of these non-linear elements, the experience is made more refined and precise. However, with this removal of freedom comes a feeling of claustrophobia and player abstraction, which ultimately pervades every aspect of the game.
The gameplay remains much the same as that of Heavy Rain in the case of the main character, Jodie. She moves and interacts with her environment like a Heavy Rain character, using the analogue stick (or touchscreen if you decide to use your iPhone or Smartphone as a controller) to utilise objects and partake in quick time events. However, a distinct difference is the fact that the options for Jodie seem altogether more limited: she’s generally only allowed a single path of action. When multiple options appear, they are generally arbitrarily different paths to an identical end, included more for the illusion of player choice rather than actual player agency.
The falsity of the illusion of player choice becomes all the more apparent during a second playthrough: it’s disheartening to give the opposite answer to a multiple choice question only to find the exact same scenario playing out regardless. It’s even more disheartening to replay the quick time events, mess them up, and see the exact same results occur. This is a game that won’t even allow the player the freedom to fail.
Aiden, the other titular “Soul”, is more interesting. The player controls the invisible spirit from a first person perspective, interacting with the environment to cause mischief or aid Jodie. Being able to roam freely around his environment, he seems like a refreshing break from the standard level of extreme player limitations. However, though Aiden possesses an array of powers, the player may only interact with any specific object or person in the specific way that the developers intended. The player very quickly becomes aware that they will only be allowed to enact their modicum of control when and how the developers say so. Exceptions to this rule of complete linearity do appear near the endgame, but they seem paltry in comparison to the rich availability of choice in their previous titles.
It can’t be denied that this is a beautiful game. In both its spectacular set pieces and its quiet, scenic environments, the world is impeccably and intricately designed and rendered. Character models are also extraordinarily well captured, allowing the game’s heavy acting talent (including Ellen Page and Willem Dafoe) to display fully the range of their abilities. This is where the game’s excessive linearity pays off: by narrowing the number of optional scenes and placing most of the game in cutscenes, writer/director David Cage is allowed full manipulation of the in-game camera. This makes it his most visually arresting project ever, but it also emphasises its linearity even further. Even in instances where the player is allowed to manipulate the camera, Cage’s overbearing hand is always there, edging it back into the “correct” position.
Without being able to control the narrative, the camera, or even individual moments of player interaction to any meaningful extent, at best this could be called an animated film with some elements of player interaction. However, is this necessarily a bad thing? Possibly not, however Beyond: Two Souls also falters in this category.
The narrative is presented, ironically, in an entirely non-linear format. It hops forward and backwards in time almost at whim. As with many of the game’s other elements, this works at times and seems pointless at others. Occasionally nice juxtapositions come out of this as the player jumps massive distances across the 15 years of the game’s narrative: beginning in Jodie’s childhood and eventually reaching her mid-twenties, but often this storytelling mechanic seems simply unnecessary.
The elements of that story are all over the place. Some, such as the childhood scenes developing the relationships between Jodie, Aiden, and Dafoe’s Dr. Dawkins, show just how good this game might have been, had it been a more consistent experience. Overall though, the narrative is largely a sprawling, directionless mess. In a game which sacrifices so much for the sake of narrative, this is simply unforgivable.
Perhaps this is too harsh an account of the game. If so, it’s only because its negatives are so crushingly disappointing when compared to its positives. Once again, this is a Quantic Dream title which absolutely overflows with potential and possibility, yet fails to capitalise on this in so many ways. Many gamers will love this, but in order to experience its best, its worst must also be endured. Beyond: Two Souls is a complete mess of a game: a beautiful, innovative, engaging, and, at times, wonderful mess.
