Syberia

The Good

By now, Syberia has become one of the classics of an almost dead genre. Yet at its time, it was anything but that; it was a mad attempt to breathe life into a corpse. The problem, however, is that this breath of life was, in fact, terribly stale. While the game may be appealing to the newcomer, for seasoned adventure players, it's almost embarrassing. Consider this a rant on why Syberia is not a classic, or even a good game.

First things first, though: the game is gorgeous. The graphics have aged gracefully; the combination of 3D characters and prerendered backgrounds still looks very good (compared to Grim Fandango or The Longest Journey), while the backgrounds themselves are stunning. It's clear the prerendered images were meticulously touched up by hand, with a consistent art style, looking almost like a pencil drawing inked over. FMVs are a different kettle of fish, with wooden animations and a few ugly effects (oh, the explosions!), but the rest of it? Beautiful; and one of the best-looking games I have ever seen.

I also rather like the interface, which is a logical conclusion of the trend adventure games have been following for years: single button point and click. It's barebones, and gives an extremely limited control, but it is a clear, reasonable design decision and as such, I can get behind it.

Sadly, however, it is now time to move to the next section.

Unusually for video games, Benoît Sokal has something of an auteur thing going on in Syberia. He's the lead designer of the game, but also a comic book artist, which explains a lot. As I have said, he certainly can draw, and he has an artistic vision. But he can't really write, and, worst of all, can't design games.

The soul of any adventure game is the writing. None of the true classics became a classic because of its puzzles, or its graphics, or anything else: it was always writing. And this is where Syberia fails tragically; and comic books are perhaps to blame. First of all, the story is simple. The whole thing can be retold in one paragraph, with nothing significant being omitted. American lawyer tries to find a missing, eccentric old man, whose eccentricity is an excuse for populating the world with all sorts of mechanical contraptions. That's pretty much it. It's a story worthy of speech bubbles, but certainly not branching adventure game dialogue. It also doesn't end; and I mean at all. Imagine listening to a story where the narrator suddenly pulls out a watch, looks at it, and says "Alright, so she went outside and there he was, sitting on a bench. Now go home." The ending gives a clear "to be continued in the next issue" vibe; and suddenly we learn the rather large amounts of backstory were just window dressing. Just an excuse to show more pretty pictures.

And regarding dialogue - there's nothing to write home about. There are characters in the game, and they talk. Everything about them is completely forgettable. There is just one exception of a dialogue that stands out: an old sailor who is talking in a hodgepodge of about five languages, curiously interpreted into English by his wife. The more of the languages you recognise, the more hilarious the exchange is. That's all, though, really. The dialogue system is simplistic, with a handful of the same, universal topics for every character, which certainly doesn't add any spice to it. It does the job. Full stop.

This single-purpose writing is actually one of the tell-tale aspects that reveal the true nature of Syberia's game design: things were put in just because adventure games, a genre Sokal has chosen for Syberia, usually have them. Their implementation is entirely superficial and often plain wrong. They are there just because a pure comic book videogame, where you would just keep clicking Next, would be too boring.

Yet this half-hearted implementation of the staples of the genre makes Syberia exactly that: boring. The game world is almost entirely dead. As I have said, visuals triumph here, which means the game is full of gorgeous, yet absolutely empty screens. My conservative estimate is that in about 70% of the game's screens, perhaps even more, absolutely no "gaming" is going on. They are there just to walk through. Every once in a while, a minor character is inserted into such a screen for local colour (and I do mean once in a while; there are about half a dozen of them altogether) who repeats the same mechanical response over and over again. The whole game is incredibly, mind-numbingly static.

And this brings me to the other major point, this one caused by something else than comic book design mentality. It takes a while before the penny drops, but the secret is that while the game pretends to be a classic third-person title, it is, in fact, a Myst clone. Gorgeous, yet empty and dull, fascinated by mechanical contraptions and puzzles that are not a part of the game world, but that exist only to be solved. It's quite obvious, really.

To put it simply, the puzzle design in Syberia is atrocious. It's an almost completely linear sequence of events, some of which are not connected at all yet have to be performed in the prescribed order, with copious amounts of backtracking through dead scenery. The train won't start because you haven't retrieved the MacGuffin yet. The train won't start because you have the MacGuffin in your inventory, but haven't put it in its proper place on the train (and after the train stops again, you'd better pick it up again, because you'll need it). Follow the numbers. Of course it makes no sense for your heroine to waste time doing this or that, but the story can't continue if you don't. The puzzles are not a part of the plot, they are added in, as an afterthought. The consequence, naturally, is that Kate is sometimes forced, by the twisted "there ought to be a puzzle here" logic, to do things in a needlessly complicated manner. There's a puzzle arising from the fact that she isn't willing to jump over a small brook, and another, involving running all over the place and talking to everyone who will listen, just because shooing away three cuckoos is apparently too difficult. The logic of the puzzles is twisted, yet the over-convoluted solutions are usually very apparent, because the extremely linear nature of the game means there simply is nothing else to do. And if the solutions aren't apparent, it's probably because you overlooked a hotspot in one of the screens which there was a good reason to consider useless. It's maddening; and I often caught myself wishing there was actually a "next" button to turn the pages of the comic book, skip a puzzle or two and view some more pretty imagery.

And that, to sum it up, is the sole reason why I can't consider Syberia a classic, its most peculiar characteristic: gameplay for gameplay's sake. It shouldn't have been a video game in the first place, that's what's wrong with it.

If writing is the soul of an adventure game, and puzzles are its flesh and bones, the only thing Syberia has going for it is a beautiful skin. Thinking back, there is nothing memorable about the game at all, except that it is gorgeous. And that's not even remotely enough.

The Good
Syberia was released to nearly-standing ovation from many fans of adventure games. Some went as far as to proclaim it the promised savior of the agonizing genre. So, what are the reasons for the overwhelming praise this game received from critics and players all around the globe?

Syberia was developed by a company that, by that time, had had some experience with adventure games; their previous works were Amerzone and Road to India. Syberia got rid of their "disturbing factors" (the overused Myst-like perspective and atmosphere of the former, the demo-like size and non-existent challenge of the latter) and expanded itself to become a more mainstream, full-fledged adventure game of the ever beloved third-person, point-and-click variety.

Though it does borrow a few elements from Amerzone, it cannot be denied that Syberia has a strong sense of style. That's its most appealing aspect, and that's how it managed to capture the hearts of so many players. The creators of the game let us enter a unique world. Usually, science fiction novels, movies or games are concern with either space travel or all kinds of futuristic machinery. The word "science fiction" becomes immediately associated with highly advanced electronics, spaceships, robots, and overly intelligent maniacal computer systems. But a "retro" science fiction of the beginning of the 20th century, science fiction in little quiet European towns of yesterday - that's quite unusual, and that's what Syberia is about. A strangely interesting world of automatons - mechanical robots - is definitely stylish. This is something no one has probably thought of before, and for that idea the game deserves credit.

A few of the locations are rather imaginative, with some interesting architecture and the elusive mechanical toys contributing to the peculiar charm. There are some nice gameplay elements here and there. You may rejoice at the occasional good, fulfilling puzzle and a bit of lively dialogue happening when you least expect it. I liked the idea of the protagonist communicating with her friends and family over the phone - particularly because that wasn't connected to any in-game activity and was there simply to flesh out the rather indifferently-acting main character a bit more.

Syberia has good production values. The pre-rendered background graphics are detailed and aesthetically very pleasing - though, in my opinion, the art is somewhat cold and cannot quite compare to the majestic beauty of the similarly-looking The Longest Journey. Also, everything is done in grayish tint - which is probably intentional, conveying the occasionally atmospheric, bleak solitude of the game's world.

The Bad
Syberia may be the next hippest thing in the world of 2D background art or even a clever metaphorical tale of human life for all I care, but it is not a good adventure game.

Most adventures live and die with their puzzles, and that's where Syberia fails utterly. There is no spark or inspiration in the puzzles at all. After you finish the game, only the cocktail preparation and perhaps one or two other tasks would linger in your memory for a while. Everything else is forgettable at best, and more often irritating. The mechanical puzzles are uniformly dull; inventory-based activities come across as pathetic shadows of the merry experimentation we knew from the comedy adventures of yore. Worse, however, is the fact that most objectives force you to run back and forth through lifeless landscapes from a solitary character to an obscure item well-hidden in the backgrounds, to an extent rarely seen in the classic representatives of the genre due to the game's abysmal linearity and lack of interaction. Even more so than other contemporary adventures, Syberia discourages experimentation and any kind of creative thinking; it contains almost no optional actions at all, grabbing your hand and sending you on an on-rails museum tour, occasionally sticking your nose into a puzzle that has to be solved here and now.

The puzzles are also poorly balanced. You encounter them virtually in every location you visit, and many of them are elementary easy to solve right away. As a result, you are able to actually solve many puzzles without even knowing that. Since you can't get stuck or die in the game and there are usually only very few things the game allows you to do, the puzzles often refuse to follow the cardinal rule of logic (first find out why you need to do something, then do it). Because of that, most puzzles feel like amateurish imitations of classic gameplay devices pasted into the game without a good reason.

The story of Syberia starts strong, but unfolds itself much too slowly. There is absolutely no sense of urgency in the development of the plot. It is as if the designers decided that the stylish setting alone would be enough to guarantee good storytelling. The whole game is spent overcoming ridiculously irrelevant obstacles while searching for a missing person. You could sum up this story in a couple of sentences. Nothing really significant happens in the game. True, the ending is not bad compared to the rest of the game, but to suffer hours of unexciting gameplay without any real story advancement just in order to see this ending is a bit exaggerated.

Syberia is also a very dry game. It sorely lacks emotions. Its attempts at humor are infantile at best. Its characters feel artificial and uninspired. You know there is a problem with the character cast of a game if its most interesting character is a mechanical robot, and even he comes across as forced with his uneasy goofiness. And all those dry characters will force you to engage in equally dry conversations with them. There's a lot of dialogue in the game, and almost all of it is dull. Almost the only exception I can think of is that guy hitting on Kate in different languages.

The Bottom Line
Syberia was met with joy by critics and players alike. People were longing for an adventure game, and this one was undoubtedly better than most of its genre cousins released at that time. To me personally, the success of this game only highlighted the gravity of the death sentence imposed on adventures. It's the story of The Longest Journey once again - except this time involving a lesser game.

The Good
* Unique story, characters, and setting not usually seen in games

• Good visual presentation

• No illogical or unfair puzzles
  
  The Bad
  * Puzzles are too easy

• Script issues, including pacing

• Hit-or-miss voice acting
  
  The Bottom Line
  Upon its release in 2002, Syberia was hailed as an instantly classic adventure game. Some even referred to it at the genre’s savior. Written and directed by Belgian comics artist Benoit Sokal, the game is a followup to his 1999 adventure Amerzone and is set in the same universe. With a low, accessible difficulty and focus on narrative, Syberia is best viewed as a transitional game between the puzzle-driven adventures of old and the modern breed of adventure games from developers such as Telltale Games and Dontnod Entertainment, which are purely narrative driven.

  Syberia follows the story of an American lawyer named Kate Walker. Walker is trying to close a deal between the conglomerate Universal Toys Company and the Voralberg company in France which for centuries has been manufacturing mechanical wind-up toys and automata. In the age of computers and cell phones, Voralberg’s toys have become increasingly irrelevant. When Kate arrives in France, she is surprised to discover that Anna Voralberg, the factory’s owner, and the person whose signature is needed to complete the deal, has just died. After doing some investigation, Kate discovers that the company has a secret heir - Anna’s long-lost brother Hans Voralberg. Making use of a clockwork train and driver automaton named Oscar that Hans designed, Kate undertakes a journey across Europe and Russia, through significant places in Hans’ past, to hopefully track him down. All the while, Kate’s relationship with her boyfriend Dan becomes increasingly strained as she moves farther and farther east.

  Unlike most video games, Syberia’s plot is very relaxed, while still retaining an epic scope. There are conflicts to solve, but nothing particularly menacing or dangerous happens to Kate for most of the game. Everything is resolved without violence or even much conflict.The only exception to this comes during the game’s climax, which features an obvious villain trying to kill Kate. This actually comes across as quite jarring given the tone of the rest of the game, which up until that point has been focused on intimate conversation and world building, rather than action.

  The visuals and settings of Syberia are one of its main selling points. Drawing from art nouveau and clockpunk designs, Syberia presents a very original setting, with technology that is primarily powered by purely mechanical, rather than electrical means. The train that Kate rides throughout the journey is entirely spring-powered and must be rewound at every stop. Even the automaton characters are implied to be using incredibly advanced mechanisms rather than electricity. Of course, technology still hasn’t advanced to the point where even an electrical automaton like what is presented here is possible, but the rest of the setting helps you buy into it. Indeed, the conflict between the past (mechanical) and present (electrical) is one of the plot’s main themes. Most of the early environments are very mechanical and retro, but as you get farther along Kate’s journey and further into Hans’ history, the designs start to be come a bit more computerized, while retaining a mechanical feel. It’s a neat trick. Technically, the game uses the popular style of the era: 3D characters superimposed over pre rendered 2D backdrops. Many backgrounds have moving FMV elements, though there are a few times when details that should be moving are static (such as flowing water) that can make some scenes look a bit odd. Animations are fine, though there are times when characters are speaking that they can sometimes appear choppy.

  Mechanically, Syberia is as basic as inventory-based adventures get. Most objects can only be interacted with in one way, and nearly everything you pick up is either used to solve a puzzle or provide background information on the story. When talking to characters, Kate can choose several one-word options from a notepad which changes depending on the situation. This can make it tricky at times to figure out what Kate will actually say, as there are times where the option has the same name but the resulting dialog is different depending on the situation. I just ended up clicking on every response to see what Kate would say. Thankfully, this isn’t a choice-and-consequence game, so I could click on dialog options without fear of messing up.

  Syberia is primarily a narrative driven game. It’s easy to lose yourself in the game’s characters and lore, which showcases the broad and beautiful imagination of Benoit Sokal. The game is more about simply taking in the sights, sounds, and history of the world. As a result, the puzzles of Syberia are surely among the easiest to ever appear in an adventure game. I never even looked at a walkthrough one time, and only very rarely was I even close to being stumped as to what I was actually supposed to do. The vast majority of puzzles are simple use item on object puzzles. There’s no combining items in the inventory either. The rest of the puzzles are simply about figuring out how to use an array of mechanical devices. You’ll hunt for codes and keys to start machines up, then fiddle with them for a bit until they work. Only one early puzzle required any guesswork to solve, but even then the amount of guesses it takes is very low. I will say that there wasn’t a single puzzle that didn’t make logical sense, even if some of them felt a bit contrived. I almost have to wonder what the game would have been like if it had no puzzles, as these only seem to be here because the adventure game genre demanded it at the time.

  As a result of this approach, Syberia is sometimes bogged down with long, talky sections that seem to exist simply to waste your time. One part of the game requires you to talk twice to three different characters in order to obtain a key item. This means lots of traipsing through numerous screens and sitting through their banal conversations.

  The writing and voice acting are hit and miss but do manage to remain compelling in the end. Some of the characters have excellent voices behind them, while others seem to lack enthusiasm and emotion, which can make certain moments fall flat. Even the lead character’s acting can be inconsistent, as some lines land far better than others. The writing can be a bit stiff as well, with needlessly long conversations and responses that don’t entirely make sense given their context.

  The music can be good, but like recent games such as Breath of the Wild, the game mostly relies on ambient sounds to set the mood and only occasionally plays music. It’s often very melancholy but occasionally magical, which suits the game’s mood very well.

  The version I played on my MacBook Pro was clearly based off of a recent mobile port of the game and isn’t actually the original release. Parts of the interface have cheap-looking comic sans fonts and oversized icons that are clearly meant to be tapped by a finger. There are also annoying achievement icons for when you make progress in the game, and reading documents require you to swipe the mouse up and down in order to scroll through them. In addition, all interactive objects are marked, with absolutely no way of turning this off. This eliminates issues with pixel hunting, something that would make this game hard to play on a small screen. At the same time however, it can feel a bit too much like a gimme for a game that is already very easy. While I don’t regret experiencing the game in this manner, I will say that the only way to get the pure experience is with the Windows version.

  While I certainly enjoyed my time with Syberia, I wouldn’t necessarily consider it an amazing adventure game. The writing is stiff at times, and the puzzles are so easy as to be almost non-existent. Nevertheless, the world is beautifully designed and the story is compelling, even if you’ll have to wade through a lot of slow parts to experience it. It’s an adventure game designed for those who want to experience an adventure, rather than bust their brain over difficult puzzles, something that would eventually become the norm with the genre.