Waking up in the world of Frictional’s SOMA I found myself surrounded by the dirtiest bachelor’s pad I had ever seen. I knew this guy, Simon Jarrett, had been through some shit. Car crash. Brain injury. But I found the state of his living conditions pretty unacceptable, so I did what any upstanding citizen would do for their friend who has also suffered the medical condition of ‘having been through some shit’, I began to clean his apartment for him.
It was here that I got acquainted to SOMA’s controls and graphics. It had that familiar indie game control scheme of using your mouse to pick up an object, examine it, and chuck it across the room once you got bored. Having played this in so many other harmless games I was lulled into a dull sense that this too would be a harmless experience. I put away Simon’s dishes, I threw out his garbage, I re-organized his camera shelf and I made sure his affairs were in order for work and his doctor’s visit. The graphics similarly gave me environments that served humdrum world but did nothing to really grab my attention. One fairly mundane train ride and slightly odd receptionist desk stop later I found myself and Simon in some kind of bizarre high tech facility so screwed up it made Simon’s apartment look like a four star resort. Simon uttered a meek “This is starting to stress me out.” This, I thought, was a gigantic understatement.
The game’s true atmosphere sets in almost immediately at this point. Getting acquainted to mundane, normal, everyday life. Feeling like a mundane, normal, everyday guy. It all made me feel immediately helpless and in over my head. This station I was on, where ever it may be, also lacked the polish of other places I had been left to struggle on my own such as Alien: Isolation’s Sevastopol or BioShock’s Rapture. Instead this place felt archaic, rusted, inherently dangerous with signs of lifeforms that shouldn’t be in the form of slick black tendrils and eerie blue pulsating organs. The game used two design styles to “trick” me. One where I was given a banal world with a sense of safety and to and fro. The next I was…’here.’ There was also something else in ‘here’ with me. Something I would be helpless to fight against if I ever met it up close.
After the really simple task of trying to recover a tool to help me start my journey through this dilapidated piece of architecture I was already pretty jumpy. The game has now told me to hide. To peek around corners. I’m not sure if I was in any actual, scripted or unscripted danger or not yet, but it sure felt it. Then once I get my omnitool and the station’s computers up and operational I find out this place is underwater. I find drawings that indicate to me the sinister things behind the walls may be inexplicable creatures of the deep.
Now let me tell you something about me, dear reader. This is usually the part where I go on about how many survival horror games I’ve played and how I’m hot shit. However I have a love/hate relationship with the water, and while I have only one true fear it’s a greatly irrational one. It’s a fear of deep sea creatures. I’m not sure what you call that, seathingaphobia? Cthuluaphobia? Whatever it is, I don’t appreciate what Frictional Games set up here. Before I was simply nervous because of their atmosphere and design scheme. Now I was shaking because it was one of the few video games to ever tap into the one thing able to (and I want to put this scientifically) truly freak me the fuck out.
Though I do have to admit a few of the individual enemy encounters weren’t too frightening by themselves. At the end of the day this is another run and hide title. Once you get a feel for enemy AI and manage a good long look at their grotesque features you mind and stomach will start to settle a bit. It’s then left up to you to navigate the remaining rooms and clear the remaining puzzles as you dance around your stalker. It’s a mechanic almost as old as the genre itself and used increasingly more in survival horror titles, so there’s nothing here that’s incredibly new or surprising, however I will say that I appreciated that Frictional games incorporated a lot of the hiding spots naturally into the environment which made for a seamless transition from being out in the open to diving for cover. It’s not a full reinvention of the wheel, but at the same time I wasn’t always searching for conveniently placed beds or lockers. Natural, seamless, fluid without the silliness of ‘time to duck under my desk!’
There are also very long pauses between the action. At first this helps build tension, but as the game gets into the later hours this is mostly to deliver story. While this isn’t exactly scary I can at least say I really enjoyed SOMA’s narrative. It’s a tale firmly routed in transhumanism, and I personally find most pieces on transhumanism to either be very convoluted and obtuse, too philosophical or a bit dry. SOMA managed to make the story compelling and complex and yet easy to follow and understand. There are elements of Simon’s story and his impact on the game’s world that are really cool. Even the misdirects and twists worked for me, a storytelling area most video games and even movies and books falter. The only pitfall for me, without spoiling it, is cleaning up Simon’s apartment ended up being a waste of time. But seriously, since that’s my only real criticism I can safely say Frictional Games managed a fascinating narrative.
Character wise the game could have used a little work. Simon and his main sidekick, Catherine Chun, were somewhat typical, with Simon adapting incredibly and admirably well to his situation, almost too well. Catherine meanwhile made for that snarky atmosphere breaking sidekick whose chattiness and barrel loaded quips often broke immersion and atmosphere. A lot of the secondary cast you encountered however proved to be richer and interesting. Be ready to encounter tons of strangely philosophical sort who have worked out that life and death are pointless and that probability is the only stress worth worrying about in their lives. While you will find others who have stumbled across a hopeless fate denying their inevitably painful end.
At the end of the day SOMA is an imperfect game. The controls aren’t anything too special for an indie, and they can be both limited and a bit glitchy. However it’s that same limit in technology that also adds to the tension and fear, something that feels very intentional by the developers. The environments are pretty cool and well thought out, with plenty of little details from one stage to the next that aid in making this world feel rich and developed. Enemy AI was never too stunningly impressive, with instant kill foes that would either keep the pressure on you to run or force you to adapt to their movements while you solved puzzles and hid but like most other things nothing was ever too mold breaking. However with its rich world, interesting take on transhumanism and ability to tap into an innate fear of the depths of the unknown SOMA is definitely a strong entry into the survival horror genre and something Frictional can hold up proud.
EDIT: I later discovered I might for real truly have a mild case of Thalassophobia. So yeah, if you’re one of thems thalassophobes forego any prior recommendations. If not, or it’s not that bad, enjoy!
