Phoenix Springs review: A dazzling and disquieting sci-fi mystery

Playing Phoenix Springs feels like being trapped in a gorgeous dream that’s steadily becoming a nightmare. It’s a point-and-click mystery set in a bleak futuristic world of dramatic shadows and muted primary colors, its scenes connected by streams of anxious static. The game stars Iris Dormer, a technology reporter who’s searching for her estranged brother, Leo. Her hunt takes her from the abandoned buildings of a rundown city, to a rich suburb, and finally to Phoenix Springs, a desert oasis bathed in golden light and occupied by a handful of odd, disconnected people.

Iris is the heart of Phoenix Springs. She narrates the on-screen action in a stoic, unaffected tone that belies the cutting poetry of her observations. Iris has just three options when interacting with people and items: talk to, look at or use. Relevant concepts and objects are collected in her mental inventory, a simple word cloud of black text on a white background. Open the inventory with a right click and select a word to bring it into the scene, where it’s combinable with other ideas and with Iris herself, prompting her to remember the clue or provide more details about it. Making Iris remember certain things is a key mechanic throughout the mystery, and it’s a good move to keep in mind if you ever feel stuck in a point-and-click hole while playing.

Iris is the game’s only voice and she talks directly to the player, sharing unfiltered thoughts as she processes each new set piece. Iris is jaded, dogged and insightful, and her cadence is sedate but sharp. It’s the kind of voice that could make a take-out menu sound both sinister and profound, and it’s a thrill to listen to throughout Phoenix Springs.

Iris’ city is desolate and rife with inequity. The streets are dotted with deserted buildings and barbed wire, and only the richest citizens are allowed to use energy without restriction. Down one alleyway, an intoxicated man is passed out on top of a shipping container, while a mute boy sits nearby, making a plant dance with an electronic box. In an abandoned university, a DJ blasts a thundering playlist for days on end as part of a mass sleep-deprivation experiment, delirious dancers and unconscious bodies piling up on the auditorium floor. The city's shadows are tinged with green, oppressive and sickly.

There’s a mid-century edge to the game’s technology — globe lights, push-button intercoms, bulky computer terminals and long train rides — which makes the world feel intensely familiar, at least until the stasis pods appear. Make no mistake, Phoenix Springs is hard cyberpunk.

Oddly enough, this only becomes clearer once you make your way to the oasis. The lushness of Phoenix Springs is an immediate relief, its flowing waters, red wooden huts and vibrant natural textures highlighting the sterility of the city’s metal, glass and wires. It’s almost relaxing enough to make you ignore the high strangeness of everything and everyone there. Almost.

On top of combining items to generate new leads about Leo’s disappearance, it’s critical to speak with people, bring them relevant ideas from your inventory and listen closely to their answers. The game relies on making common-sense connections and following your intuition, and rarely are solutions provided at face value. At times trial-and-error is a valid way to progress, and in other cases it’s just a matter of taking a breath and thinking about the problem from a fresh angle. My advice is to have patience and try absolutely everything that comes to mind; if you’re paying attention, chances are, you’re on the right track.

Phoenix Springs occasionally suffers from the most common issue in point-and-click games, where it feels like you’ve tried every combination and nothing is working, so you just randomly click around until something happens — but I encountered only two instances like this in about six hours of playtime. Thankfully, Calligram Studio provides a link to a walkthrough guide in the pause screen, so hope is never truly lost.

The game’s simple control scheme supports a surprisingly complex narrative that unspools in Iris’ measured narration. There’s nothing rushed about Phoenix Springs. Iris walks leisurely across expansive wide shots, her light blue silhouette cutting through high grasses and across cold concrete at the same unhurried pace. When she speaks, she gives each thought time to permeate the scene, sentences short and powerful. Haunting choir chords and droning bass lines are eventually replaced by pristine silence and birdsong. Where the environments aren’t blanketed in shadow, their colors constantly shift like there’s a stop-motion river flowing just beneath the screen. Each second of Phoenix Springs demands your attention. In return, the game provides a million moments of intrigue for your eyes, ears and deductive mind. And at the inevitable conclusion, every small detail slides elegantly into place.

I want to print out this game, frame by frame, and plaster its hand-drawn neo-noir vistas over every square inch of my office walls. Phoenix Springs is an interactive art installation that happens to use point-and-click game mechanics, and Calligram Studio’s emphasis on creating something beautiful — and then using this canvas to tell a twisted story about biohacking and familial love — is clear.

What’s exciting about Phoenix Springs is that it excels as both a piece of art and a detective game. It occupies a similar territory as Kentucky Route Zero, another title that offers depressing social commentary in a visually fascinating package, also made by a small artist collective. In the case of Phoenix Springs, stunning art direction, expert writing, incredible sound design, fabulous voice acting and satisfying mechanics combine to create an unforgettable, utterly unique sci-fi experience. Sure, Phoenix Springs is a game — but mostly, it’s gorgeous.

Phoenix Springs is now available on PC, Mac and Linux, developed and published by Calligram Studio.

Phoenix Springs

$20 at Steam