Transference
PC, PS4, PSVR, Rift, Vive, Xbox One
Developer SpectreVision, Ubisoft Montreal Publisher Ubisoft Format PC, PS4, PSVR (tested), Rift, Vive, Xbox One Release Out now
Elijah Wood and his collaborators at Ubisoft Montreal have, it would seem, played a lot of PT. The actor’s production company SpectreVision has so far overseen a series of twisted thrillers and horror films, apparently looking to birth the next contemporary cult classic. Transference only bucks the trend because it’s interactive, but while it undoubtedly benefits from SpectreVision’s genre experience, it owes plenty to Hideo Kojima’s terrifying teaser. It’s set in a single location that may be static but is never quite still. It’s disturbing because its domestic setting is at once so recognisable yet clearly a few degrees away from normality. And in a more straightforward sense, it’s a firstperson exploration game with some good scares.
It’s an experience that’s naturally best served by PSVR – not least since you’re essentially inhabiting a souped-up VR simulation anyway. Its premise imagines a piece of technology that can transmit one human consciousness into another. And who better to be the guinea pigs in such an experiment than one’s own family? At least that’s what Macon Blair’s scientist – occasionally calm, often manic, consistently dishevelled – believes, but as we watch him entertainingly unravelling in a series of video logs, it’s clear something has gone badly wrong. Hopping between his perspective, his musician wife and their son (whose apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree) over the three hours, we get to find out what that might be.
Not that the answers come easily. The story is necessarily fragmented, as technical hitches intrude, whoever’s head you’re currently inside. Floating lines of code denote an absent object; an error message will give you a clue to its nature, and it’s your job to retrieve it. These are not, fair to say, the most taxing puzzles, but several involve some enjoyably circuitous navigation. Doors you can pass through in one consciousness are obstructed in another, and in one sequence you find yourself looking up at the ground, opening filing cabinets that hang from what is now the ceiling.
This isn’t the kind of game that says ‘Boo!’ every five minutes, but there are jolts, and they’re efficiently delivered. One deeply alarming set-piece leaves you trapped as a strange, hostile anomaly manifests nearby, with no exits to run to; another forces you to head directly towards a persistent banging noise instead of doing what comes naturally – namely, backing away slowly and cowering in a corner. It clearly demonstrates that fighting off apparitions or gunning down zombies can’t hold a candle to simply being present and vulnerable inside a nightmare. That’s why, despite the occasional stumble and sticking point, Transference will frequently leave you transfixed.