By Matthew Codd
It's a rare and welcome treat to play a game that sticks to a core idea and absolutely nails it. This is especially true with AAA games, where there's constant pressure for "more, more, MORE!", but even with indies, it's far from uncommon to play something that falls short of its lofty ambitions.
So, you can understand my slight reticence going into Submerged, even though it was mixed with genuine excitement. Everything I'd seen made it look stunning, and Uppercut Games' goal of creating "a serene and relaxing game experience" - in stark contrast to the industry standards of conflict and tension - certainly resonated with me. But I'd been burnt before.
As it turns out, that reservation was misplaced. Submerged is a work of art and a breath of fresh air; a humble and intimate affair, but one from which even the biggest blockbusters could stand to learn a lesson about focus and commitment to an idea.
Submerged opens with a simple cutscene that sets the tone for the whole game: a haunting piano melody scores a shot of a small fishing boat slowly drifting through the waterways of a sunken city that, despite its weathered, ruinous look, is immediately recognisable as something from the modern day.
A closer look shows us that one of the two people onboard the boat - Taku is his name, we'll learn later - is injured, and the other (Miku, though her name is never actually mentioned in the game) is caring for him.
Like the game that follows it, this scene is slow and deliberate, beautiful and serene, heartfelt and bittersweet. It tells little, but shows so much - about the world and Taku and Miku's place in it, about their relationship to one another, and, most importantly, about the lengths Miku will go to save her little brother.
Which is exactly what the rest of the game has you doing. As Miku, you're tasked with exploring these ruins in search of various supplies to help care for Taku; bandages to stem the bleeding, something to ease the pain, and so on.
The first step is to actually find these supplies, but thankfully Miku's got a telescope with which you can scour the horizon, and any points of interest will be automatically marked on your map (it's a lot like the Shard Collector sidequests in Dragon Age: Inquisition, if you've played that).
The next step is to actually to get to the supplies you've located, which means boating through the city, finding somewhere to disembark, and navigating the ruins. In this, Submerged feels like Uncharted distilled to its most central element; none of the over-the-top set-pieces, wisecracks, or tired gunplay, just you and the ruin you're climbing.
On a purely mechanical level, that's all there is to Submerged, but the way this pulls you into the game and gets you invested in this world and these characters, without a single line of exposition, is remarkable.
Miku never speaks a word, but through her actions at your hands, you get a real sense the sacrifices she'll make for Taku. At the same time, with no enemies to fight, risk of falling to your death, or any kind fail state whatsoever, you're left free you free to just explore at your own pace and appreciate the serenity.
I can't think of any other games where doing almost nothing is so rewarding.
And it's here that Submerged really strikes gold. I can't think of any other games where doing almost nothing is so rewarding. A lot of my time with the game was spent simply boating around the canals, taking everything in for its own sake, and enjoying Jeff van Dyck's beautiful score.
Dolphins would follow my boat, as is their wont, playfully leaping out of the water and chasing the wake of the little petrol motor. Occasionally, I'd run into a manta ray or whale going about their business, or even a whale shark. The first time I saw one of those, my heart skipped a beat - sharks are almost always coded as a threat, something to fear - but a moment later, I realised that's not the case here, and I was able to just appreciate its majesty.
Before long, these animals start to take on a personality of their own, and become your friends. Importantly, they're not Miku's friends; she doesn't interact with them at all. They're your friends - you, the player - and a near constant source of companionship in an otherwise isolated world.
As you explore and find supplies and hidden objects, you'll unlock pictures that piece together the history of the world, and of Miku and Taku. These are simple, almost crude images that resemble Aboriginal rock art, and yet they come together to tell a deep and moving story, particularly in the case of the two children. In keeping with that calm, peaceful aesthetic that permeates the rest of the game, there's an underlying theme of support, companionship, and togetherness that's imperturbable.
Submerged won't be a game for everyone, in the same way that the likes of Gone Home and Dear Esther aren't for everyone, but that doesn't make it any less remarkable. But if you can hear the music that this game is playing - and I'd urge you to give it an earnest go - you'll find something that may just take your breath away.
Four-and-a-half stars.
NZGamer.com
Submerged :: Developer: Uppercut Games:: Format: PlayStation 4, Xbox One, PC:: Rating: PG