The (dare I say it) cinematography is another notable feature of Indigo Prophecy, but with varying results. The game makes clever use of dramatic camera movement and composition, particularly during the many scripted cutscenes scattered throughout (which is good, because they're unskippable). Occasionally, the screen even splits into multiple views to show a secondary event on a collision course with your own, whether a goal you must reach or a threat to avoid. It's a simple technique, but very effective at ratcheting up the tension. Unfortunately, the same can be said for the default cameras during player-controlled gameplay, but for much different reasons. The game alternates between fixed and roaming cameras depending on the environment, and though serviceable, neither is particularly intuitive. The fixed camera angles don't always let you see or move where you're trying to go, and the roaming cameras need constant adjustment that never gets comfortable. Fumbling awkwardly with stubborn cameras is anything but new to third-person games, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating. Since this is such an integral aspect of a player's experience, it's a wonder why developers feel the need to sacrifice accessibility for artistry. The only thing riskier than tinkering with cameras is messing with the control scheme…

Of course, by now it should come as no surprise that the control scheme is yet another area Quantic Dream designed from the ground up. Seeking to create a greater sense of physical immersion for the player, Indigo Prophecy takes direct control to a whole different level. Once again, however, what begins as a commendable ambition occasionally becomes all thumbs in its execution. In this case, I mean that both literally and figuratively, as navigating the game feels more natural using a gamepad with dual analog sticks (after resolving a strange glitch that leaves the right stick unassigned by default). The PC version can also be controlled with a mouse/keyboard combination, but this setup takes more getting used to, and probably a certain amount of customized button re-mapping. Fortunately, the game wisely utilizes a screen-relative orientation for gamepads and character-relative orientation for keyboard.

The interface has no cursor and no inventory, consisting instead of icons at the top of the screen that indicate available options. You can only perform actions the game enables you to, as interactive freedom has its limitations here, as well. Whether it's lighting a candle, breaking a window, or choosing dialogue options, typically this involves nothing more than moving the stick or mouse in the direction indicated, but other times the actions are a little more complicated. Intended to mimic the onscreen activities, you'll need to simulate the motion demonstrated by the icon. So doing around-the-worlds with a yoyo (I kid you not) or climbing a fence is meant to feel more like you're actually performing the actions yourself than abstractly directing your character. Frankly, there seems to be no rhyme or reason for which actions are chosen for this treatment, and any connection between wiggling my mouse back and forth and pushing a mop is tenuous at best. In any case, the finicky controls tend to pull you OUT of the game instead of immerse you more deeply in it. Thankfully, these special activities are few and far between.

Much more frequent are the game's genuine action sequences. Yes, we return at last to the unavoidable issue of "gameplay" in this interactive drama. The game initially revolves around exploring various environments, interacting with objects, talking to people, searching for clues, and generally advancing the story in logical, meaningful ways. Before long, though, the focus starts to shift. While forsaking anything resembling traditional "puzzles" (okay, maybe a couple — barely), Indigo Prophecy builds an increasing dependence on rudimentary mini-games to oppose progress. Regrettably, this sounds far more fun than it really is (even if it doesn't sound like much). What initially promises a new layer of energy and excitement quickly gives way to boredom and/or frustration as you slog through one tedious and sometimes surprisingly challenging reflex exercise after another.

The most prevalent of these is a twin version of Simon… That's right, Simon — you know, the electronic game of Simon Says that dates back to the late 1970s. At regular intervals throughout the game, a pair of translucent coloured rings will appear overlaid on the main game screen. As the colours light up, you'll need to match their orientation with your controller of choice. The speed and duration of these 50-plus(!) sequences vary according to the tempo of the events of the game. Again the theory is to have the directional controls coincide with what's physically onscreen, but concentrating on the rings makes that a pointless distinction, as you can't focus on the action to see the correlation. So while the game has Lucas dodge a car in the same direction you pressed your buttons, you'll be far too busy pressing the next set to notice. You're free to try observing both at once, but expect to spend the rest of the day cross-eyed if you do. The long sets that occur during certain dialogues are even more of a nuisance, as they're an actual hindrance to following the story. If asked what I learned from the autopsy on my trip to the morgue, I'd be forced to answer something to the effect of, "The knife was [red-blue-green-red-red]… the arteries, causing [blue-red-yellow-green-yellow]… victims all [green-yellow-blue-blue-yellow]." Everyone catch all that? Right. Me either.

Then there are the button-mashing segments. Though not as frequent as the Simon exercises, what they lack in number they compensate with aggravation. When your character is required to do something extremely strenuous, you'll need to fill up a bar by hitting alternate buttons in rapid succession. The only question besides whether this is harder on your nerves or the controller is: WHY?? Beating the bejeebers out of your keyboard simply does not emulate physical exertion, though it does provide the identical absence of fun. Even worse are the eight or ten dramatic combat or chase sequences that combine the two activities, ramp up the difficulty significantly, and force an abrupt "game over" if you lose all of your accrued "lives". The first of these will probably send many people scrambling to drop the difficulty settings to easy, but even that's no guarantee of success. Veteran action gamers will certainly overcome, but these are NOT forgiving sequences for anyone unaccustomed to dexterity-based challenges, and they occur too often to luck your way through. So be forewarned. If you're already asking yourself right now, "Does he mean me?", then yes, I do.

Make no mistake: I'm not criticizing the game simply for including action sequences. My complaint is that most of them don't accomplish what they set out to do. While they certainly get the adrenaline pumping, they fail to create the desired tactile immersion with organic, physical challenges. Instead, they actually sever the connection to the narrative and force the gamer to play the interface rather than the story. Nothing says "arcade" quite like the GET READY! message that flashes onscreen every time Simon Says. When we're finally treated to some variety, Indigo Prophecy is far more refreshing, including two clever sequences of controlled breathing, a precarious balancing act, and target practice at a shooting range. Even the now-apparently-requisite stealth sequences provide a welcomed change of pace, despite relying too much on trial and error. With a little more diversity and relevance in its action, IP truly could have been the well-rounded experience it aspires to be. In an otherwise innovative title, it's disappointing to see such uninspired, derivative gameplay elements featured so prominently.

Before all is said and done, one thing that should not be overlooked about Indigo Prophecy is its overall polish. Where so many games seem to cut corners wherever possible, Quantic took no such shortcuts with the game, and it shows. Even before gameplay begins, players are treated to an interactive quiz about the game's themes that runs during installation, and a helpful tutorial narrated by a digitized version of writer/director David Cage. The game is completely stable throughout, and offers a nice selection of unlockable bonus features, where you can finally see those impressive Hollywood-style cinematics that you missed while playing Simon through them originally. And despite not having a manual save feature, IP is quite user-friendly for those who wish to replay parts of the game without starting over from the beginning. The game is split into 44 short chapters, auto-saving on completion of each (and occasionally during), and you can pick up from any chapter and resume under a new profile so your existing progress isn't lost.

It should go without saying (but obviously won't) that any game involving a ritual murder in the opening scene isn't shying away from mature topics, and that's certainly true of Indigo Prophecy. However, the game is by no means gratuitously violent or gory, opting instead for a psychological focus. There is also a small amount of swearing and mild sexual content — the latter being all that remains after the well-publicized censoring of the European Fahrenheit version, along with some farcical measures to remove the game's brief nudity. So while the game handles its adult themes quite tastefully, bear in mind that it's still not a game for the kiddies.

By now I hope you've drawn your own conclusion about whether Indigo Prophecy is right for you, because a title this unique is sure to have extremely subjective appeal. There are those who will reject it as a hybrid scourge and others who will herald it as the saviour of adventures, but the truth lies somewhere in the middle. While the action sequences will surely alienate a fair percentage of the hardcore adventure fanbase, the game also brings innovative new ideas to a largely complacent genre, so those with enough ability and tolerance for the arcade elements will find much to value here. The game's strong cinematic presentation, dynamic gameworld, increased player options and interactivity, and top level production values put it head and shoulders above most of its traditional genre contemporaries. Where it stumbles is in pushing its ambitions too far with poor plot development, camera control, and interface implementation, and not far enough in its repetitive mini-game activities. Action-oriented or not, resorting to a 27-year old electronic toy to supplement gameplay doesn't qualify for the label "evolutionary".

Perhaps the only thing that can be said for sure is that there's nothing else quite like it. Part movie, part game, part action, part adventure… call it what you will, Indigo Prophecy is a daring, original experiment in interactive storytelling, and well worth its eight to ten hours of gameplay for anyone feeling adventurous. If you're up to the challenge, Simon Says give it a try.