Quantic Dream’s Playstation 3-exclusive, “Beyond: Two Souls” is a peculiar outlier in today’s video game industry. It looks more like a movie and defies many of the conventions held sacred in other games.
There are no health kits or level-ups. No free-roaming exploration. No heads-up display. No rooms filled with infinite waves of bad guys that have to be defeated to progress to the next level.
Instead, “Beyond” plays like an interactive movie that lets you make choices that affect the path the story takes in a “choose your own adventure” type of way.
In fact, the genius of “Beyond” is that you don’t need to have ever played a video game at all. It doesn’t ask you to “win.” It only asks you to sit back and enjoy participating in a story.
Reminiscent of old point-and-click adventure games of the ‘90s, “Beyond” gives you very little influence on character and camera movement. And with no fixed control scheme, the game opts for contextual button prompts on-screen that correspond to certain actions you can take. Consequently, player-controlled sequences transition almost seamlessly into cutscenes.
And with the game being fully motion-captured and starring Ellen Page (“Juno”) and Willem Dafoe (“Spiderman”) as the leads, you’d be even less to blame for confusing “Beyond” with a film.
Because of this limited gameplay interaction, story takes precedence over all else. It’s a game that asks how you confront despair, and more importantly, how you cope with death.
The story chronicles fifteen years in the life of Jodie Holmes (Page), from her early childhood to troublesome adolescence, and ultimately, to her confrontation with death as an adult. Since birth, Jodie has exhibited supernatural powers because of her link to a paranormal entity known only as Aiden.
Aiden can never leave Jodie’s presence, and his sole purpose is to protect Jodie at all costs, even if the means are destructive to others. When you’re not controlling Jodie, you float around as Aiden, who can physically interact with much of the world. His actions usually boil down to mind controlling others, choking, removing obstacles, eavesdropping through walls, triggering flashbacks, and more.
Although Jodie has no direct influence over Aiden, he often does as she asks. During Jodie’s childhood, however, Aiden becomes increasingly troublesome. Fearing for their safety, Jodie’s parents leave her in a governmental research facility led by Nathan Dawkins (Dafoe).
During her time growing up in the facility, Nathan becomes her father figure. And though he genuinely cares for her, she is ultimately his lab rat. She’s afforded no normal life and serves more as a tool than a person.
As Jodie learns to control Aiden, the government learns of rifts into an “Infraworld” that contains spirits like Aiden. Unfortunately, many of those happen to be deadly, and after accidentally opening a rift, the government calls upon Jodie to close it.
This sparks the interest of the CIA, which quickly drafts her into service against her will. Realizing that she’s being used, Jodie flees and embarks on a search for her place in the world.
Her life is a miserable roller coaster.
Whenever a glimmer of happiness appears, it’s immediately snuffed out by the cruelty of those who wish to abuse her. Her only lasting relationship is with Aiden, and yet she does not know who or what he is.
What then is the point of living when one has nothing to live for? That’s the harrowing question the game asks with thought-provoking choices concerning life and death.
Through these choices, Jodie becomes entirely molded to the player’s attitude, creating a powerful experience unique to each player. Some of these choices are as minor as choosing whether Jodie responds sarcastically or aggressively to a question. Others can be as colossal as deciding between life and death for certain characters.
Aiden’s interactions in particular can be a lot of fun when his actions lead to scenes with different outcomes. A romantic date for Jodie could go perfectly if you let Aiden observe idly. Or perhaps you hate the guy’s guts and cut the date short by wreaking havoc in the room.
Several students watching me play gasped at my decision to use Aiden to exact revenge on teen bullies at a party who locked Jodie in a closet. I saw no harm at first –– until a knife somehow landed in one bully’s arm and the house burned down.
For another player, that scene never happened. Perhaps Jodie was graciously forgiving and just left. Choices like these make for a very personalized experience.
And because there is no “game over” in “Beyond,” the experience becomes even more personalized. If you screw up, the story adapts. Your mistakes become Jodie’s mistakes and your decisions can lead to radically different conclusions to Jodie’s story.
Another wonderful thing about “Beyond” is that it can even be experienced in cooperative play with a friend. In this mode, one player controls Jodie while the other controls Aiden.
Much of “Beyond’s” emotional impact is owed to the fantastic performances by Page and Dafoe. With the help of motion-capture, every tear and raw emotional outburst from Page’s vulnerable performance, coupled with the almost lifelike visuals, makes the game incredibly lifelike.
The game also features a riveting and heart-pounding musical score composed by Lorne Balfe and Hans Zimmer, who have previously collaborated on games and movies such as “The Dark Knight,” “The Bible,” and “Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2.”
Those not interested in storytelling might find “Beyond” difficult to enjoy because of the limited interaction you’re afforded in the moment-to-moment gameplay. And though controlling Aiden gives you a little more room to explore, don’t expect the versatility of “Grand Theft Auto” here. It’s largely a guided experience.
Despite some incredible action set pieces, most of the game’s ten hours is spent on dialogue and interactions that seem mundane by other game’s standards (You get to cook Asian Beef. Not joking).
And that’s OK because we need more games like “Beyond.” Narratives in games will never mature if they’re constrained to justifying why you have to shoot thirty guys every time you enter a room.
Granted, the story’s supernatural elements sometimes plunge into absurdity, but it always remains intensely personal to the player. We all experience loss, and like Jodie, wonder what lies beyond. If there truly is a beyond, why stick around in this grimy, unforgiving world? The Jodie in my story was a fighter. I wanted her to live so badly because there’s more to life than the grime. There’s also a light at the end of the tunnel that’s worth fighting for.
Few stories have made me tear up like “Beyond.” I’ve never cared much for the debate over whether games are art, but if this isn’t art, then it’s pretty damn close.
