[REVIEW] Miasmata

Christopher Sheridan
(PC [REVIEWED])

The more gaming attempts to move towards realism, the more it seems to be held back by its natural attributes as a videogame. For every numerical value, or meter that must be managed, said management generally only goes so far as pressing a button, or performing a simple action. Two-brother team IonFx seems to be keenly aware of this trend, and in response have crafted an admirable antithesis to this trend. Miasmata sometimes falls victim to its own ambitions, but it’s still one of the best exploration games you’re bound to find on the PC.

Miasmata opens with a brief explanation. You are a man stricken with a strange and deadly illness, the only cure for which appears to be on a remote island where a group of scientists have been working on combating the illness. Upon arriving at the island, however, it becomes clear that something has gone very wrong—there is a chilling stillness in the air, and the scientists are nowhere to be found. Constantly on the verge of death, the man must find the cure alone and figure out what went wrong.

Miasmata succeeds most definitively in its overall tone; one which juxtaposes fear and peace, and smoothly blends feelings of isolation and the feeling that you’re being watched and hunted. The game constantly feeds a sense of creeping dread; not only is the main character slowly dying of a disease, there is a distinct sense that something terrible has happened on this island. Vestiges of a bygone group of intellectuals can be found at every hut on the island; a group that, until some horrific incident that wiped every trace of their clan from the island, had stumbled upon a cure for the fever that plagues the protagonist. It creates a building sense of unease that does not subside over the course of the game.

There’s also the monster: a fearsome horned feline that could be anywhere on the island. In the game coding itself, the monster could appear anywhere, at any time; its presence is seemingly random. Look closely at that patch of grass up ahead: that rustling may be the predator waiting for its quarry. Look over your shoulder, and it could be right there. Every second that the monster doesn’t appear increases the certainty that it will be waiting ahead.

There is an attempt at making the game inhabit some sense of realism in its mechanics. Arguably the most important of these is cartography. Indeed, the game refuses to serve up a magical piece of paper that instantly reveals the world; instead, close attention must be paid to the world and its defining features and landmarks, so that said landmarks can be used to triangulate your position and pinpoint your position in the world, as well as use real-world distances to develop an accurate map. Running headlong into the forest is not only foolhardy, but deadly: getting lost in the world is a one-way ticket to death. It’s almost too easy to get lost, so it’s important to keep close track of your position on the map.

The second major mechanic involves picking flowers, taking them to any nearby laboratory (situated in the huts sprinkled around the island), synthesizing them to determine viable combinations, and then crafting them into various tonics and medicines to keep the fever under control and improve attributes and abilities. Until a sufficient botanical journal can be assembled, picking and studying flowers is a matter of experimentation, though there are long stretches in which there are no flowers to be found, making for periods of searching and hoping for the best while the clock ticks. This will not sit well with some players.

If you’ve ever started to trot down a hill and found yourself quickly losing control as you pick up speed, Miasmata’s momentum mechanics will not seem unusual. Sudden actions such as quickly turning, or slipping as you move down a mountain, will cause you to lose balance or to simply tumble entirely. The latter can be particularly terrifying as anything you’re holding goes flying and the entire world spins until you mercifully hit the bottom of the slope. These are fun, but sometimes felt just a little bit excessive.

Further selling the immersion is the audio and visual design. In both aspects, Miasmata is beautiful. Subtle music and robust sound effects will suck players into the game, and make headphones almost a requirement. Visually, the game also shines. This is never so true as during the sunsets, which light up the horizon with beautiful orange and yellow hues. If you have the machine to run it, this is one of the best-looking independent games ever made, even if some of the textures and animations take a hit.

Obviously, Miasmata is not for everyone. It’s a quieter, more reflective game, with that sense of peaceful exploration at the head with an undercurrent of tension and dread flowing behind. It’s not an action-packed adventure, and certain segments can feel like a slog, particularly when there are long stretches of nothingness. Indeed, it can get frustrating to have the fever get worse by the minute and there are no flowers in sight. Still, it’s hard to resist the beauty of the game, and the creeping dread it instills. The industry needs more realistic, quiet games like this.