Indigo Prophecy
One of the biggest problems with Quantic Dream's first game, Omikron was that the engine wasn't anywhere near competent enough to delivery the kind of atmosphere and scale that the developers wanted to convey. IP's engine is more than up to the task - at least on the PC. The PS2 version stutters a bit, and there are some downright choppy sections, but one very important thing still rings true: this game has atmosphere in spades.
From the way thick snowflakes continually flutter softly to the ground and snow drifts pile up against dumpsters and the sides of buildings to the way huge, smoky shafts of light pour through the cracks in a floorboard, the attention to detail in presenting a world that is slowly growing colder and more dead is amazing. Even Lucas' physical transformation is handled subtly enough that when you're finally reminded of what he looked like at the beginning of the game, the two people are scarcely the same.
The game also benefits from scads of motion capture data. Literally almost every cutscene in the game has the characters either interacting with each other or using some kind of set piece in some way. No where is the mocap footage more impressive than in the fantastically choreographed fight scenes.
Watching Lucas slowly come into his own with some seriously cool wire-fu sequences is a blast, though it should be noted that these are almost always carried out via the previously mentioned Simon says events, and because you're often concentrating so hard on the patterns, it's hard to see what's going on, even with the option to move the patterns to the top or bottom of the screen. Luckily, most of the major events can be watched again from the extras menu once you've beaten the game.
As good as the characters move, there are times when the voice don't quite give off the same sort of resonance. Sure, most of the dialogue is fantastic, but there are a few parts that don't quite nail the spoken word every time. The mere fact that I'm complaining about a few parts just means that the rest of the game was presented so close to a movie that such a minor thing was noticeable. Most of the effects - if you can call them that - are minimal at best, and usually amount to a lot of blowing wind and a few light footsteps most of the time.
The one area of the game that doesn't fail, though, is the music. The composition team of Angelo Badalamenti (who previously worked with David Lynch on his earlier movies), Farid Russlan and Normand Corbeil's orchestral score is so perfectly fitting, the game wouldn't be nearly as good without it. Somber, almost melancholy cellos build and ebb perfectly against some of the most moody, captivating movements I've ever heard in a game.
Here's the bottom line: if you enjoy an old-school adventure game and don't want the genre to die, for the love of all that is good and right in this world, buy this game. Sure, the game leaps over a few plot holes, and the ending is more Alex Proyas than it ever is David Lynch, but the complete package is one of the most engrossing and incredible I've played in a long, long time.




