Vampyr Review

Does it suck to suck?

It feels like forever since I’ve played a good vampire RPG — maybe I never have at all. While there are numerous successful translations of the subject material into other game formats, such as visual novels, something about the portrayal in RPGs has never quite clicked for me. Political intrigue and thematically relevant stories are abundant, but  actually playing as a vampire is rarely satisfying in a way that feels novel or unique. Oftentimes the vampire aspect is downplayed in combat scenarios, serving as little more than a garnish onto your bog-standard FPS or third-person action gameplay. The standard for many over the last 20 years has been 2004’s Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines, a game that remains so broken that it requires fan patches to even render it playable — not exactly an enticing offering. Even that game struggles to make vampirism interesting mechanically, as most of the fun comes from the role-playing and social contract aspects of the world. Enter Vampyr, perhaps the first and last of its kind. A game that not only utilizes its interesting world and characters to craft a dark and enthralling atmosphere, but also is sometimes fun to play.

Publisher: Don't Nod Entertainment

Developer: Focus Home Interactive

Platform: Played on PC

Availability: Released June 5, 2018 on Windows PC (Steam), PS4, and Xbox One. Released on October 29, 2019 for Nintendo Switch.

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The start of Vampyr sees Jonathan, our protagonist, turned into a vampire and taking a life before he even understands what has happened to him. As a doctor, his oath to do no harm has been broken; as a vampire, his lust for blood puts him on the run. But even as a vampire, the man Jonathan Reid remains, caring and compassionate despite his woes — if you let him be. The struggle to consume people is ever present narratively and mechanically, as devouring NPCs grants an enormous amount of experience, setting up Vampyr’s most interesting dynamic of first getting to know the citizens and assisting them before being able to or willing to consume their flesh. The predator and prey dynamic is a familiar one to many, as it is a recurring theme in games about vampirism and especially so in Vampire: the Masquerade titles.

Of course, the spectre of Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines still hangs in the shadows through it all. Vampyr takes great inspiration from it and the World of Darkness at-large, even using Vampire: the Masquerade series-adjacent terminology such as “Antediluvian” intermittently throughout. Despite this, Vampyr manages to craft its own world and story, set in post-World War 1 London, full of political maneuvering, threats mystical and mundane, and gloom. That setting is perhaps its most unique attribute, with London itself feeling lived-in, despite the horrors taking place around you. Tight, rain-soaked alleys are contrasted with the lush parks, grimy sewers juxtaposed against the gauche manses of the more affluent members of society, all accompanied by the strings and melancholy of the score. London is a city where people live, not just a playground for your vampirism, and right now things aren’t great! 

The precarious situation in London is central to the gameplay in more ways than one. As you explore, you come to meet the citizens, all of whom are struggling with life under the “disease” afflicting their communities. As mentioned before, you need to resolve their woes to make them more enticing targets by increasing the exp they grant you upon consuming them. Vampyr takes this a step further by tying the citizen’s well-being to the city itself. Every person contributes to the health of the district in which they live. Keeping the citizens happy and healthy through quest completion, curing them of diseases, and (most importantly) alive means districts remain stable. Stable districts mean fewer powerful enemies on the streets, and more quests to complete. It’s a delicate balance of decision-making — do you feed in order to gain power, or abstain to save lives? 

The precarious situation in London is central to the gameplay in more ways than one. As you explore, you come to meet the citizens, all of whom are struggling with life under the “disease” afflicting their communities.

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This dynamic comes to a head most prominently in combat and conversations. If you abstain from feeding entirely, as I did, you’ll be severely underleveled for many of the game’s encounters, requiring more precision in battle to advance. You’ll also miss out on some weapons or crafting materials, though these are mostly inconsequential aside from achievements. Perhaps expectedly, your feeding habits are also commented on by the characters who will acknowledge your restraint (or lack thereof), as well as modifying the ending you receive.

Those conversations and their depth are where the game truly shines. Each conversation is like a puzzle where you piece together bits of information received for collectibles, other characters and the current subject to open up new bits of dialogue. Occasionally, you’ll be presented with a “Y” choice that becomes consequential. Pick the right option and you’ll learn new hints, but pick the wrong one and you might be locked out of hints for multiple people and all of the experience that comes with it. The game doesn’t tell you what the “right” answers are, though. Instead, your best course of action is to piece together your conversant’s personality through your prior dialogue and gathered information, which can then be used to make an informed guess. You can always just pick what you want, too, as these choices don’t materially affect gameplay or story outcomes in most cases. In fact, many choices don’t give hints at all, but rather shape the tone and tenor of the conversation, forming the backbone of the dialogue system. This grounded approach was such a relief to me. Rather than focus on outcomes or rewards, I felt more free to roleplay and really dive into the text itself and explore Jonathan’s character. Free to really dive into that conflict between his inner selves: the man of science and compassion versus the mystical beast of rage and lust.

Even if you did regret a choice, you wouldn’t be able to change it, as the game uses a single save file for each playthrough. There are no manual saves, Vampyr relies on an auto-save only system that regularly updates as you explore or gather materials. Better get used to living with the consequences of your actions, as well as the follies of the game itself. I was quite fond of this save system in some ways, as it took the pressure off of making a perfect run happen. I could just play as I wanted. Whatever will be, will be. At least, until a major sidequest completely bugged out, rendering me unable to finish it and any associated character interactions. This bugged quest not only prevented me from getting hints for some characters, but locked me out of other goodies related to achievements. I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to correct or resolve the issue in some way, but the only reward for me was that I became more comfortable with letting go.

Vampyr is dark and dreary, yet full of life.

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As far as combat goes, it’s a mostly-shallow third person action game with limited abilities and minimal strategy, but it does succeed quite well at making Jonathan feel like a real vampire. The slow movement comes off as a bit ominous as you approach an enemy, and the animations are weighty and impactful. Each fight is a freakish dance of blood and claws and fangs that only ends when you or your enemies lie dead in the ditches of London. I played up my vampiric aspects in my build and combat approach, focusing on spending blood to sling abilities around only to stun enemies so I may feed on them for additional resources to do it all again. The brutality of the bite was probably my favorite aspect of the combat. The camera draws in closer to you and your victim as they struggle against you, and the animations and sound effects really sell just how vicious this whole ordeal is.

Which is probably why the disconnect between story Jonathan and battle Jonathan feels so awkward. In the streets, I was cruel and hungry, feeding off of each and every person I could sink my teeth into, but in conversation, Jonathan was adamant he would never feed on a human, keeping his soft and kind demeanor throughout the story’s events. I do understand that this is not something the game was designed around fully. Not being able to feel in battle would be massively restricting, so why punish you for utilizing the game’s core combat mechanics. That seems like solid reasoning until you enter a fight midway through the game and consumption does, in fact, count as feeding on a person for story purposes. I think the game could have really benefited from going all in on this choice in combat, offering better options outside of blood use and feeding for those who didn’t wish to partake. Instead it creates this dissonant structure of two separate experiences, only to flip that on its head in one single encounter part way through.

Each fight is a freakish dance of blood and claws and fangs that only ends when you or your enemies lie dead in the ditches of London.

Unfortunately, there’s a disconnect in the story dialogues as well, scene-to-scene. A majority of the time, Jonathan’s actions and demeanor are predicated upon your own choices. Whether it’s the actions you took prior to any given scenario, or the explicit “Y” choice you’ve made in a given dialogue, something you have done is informing the way each conversation moves. So when major plot points force you into specific scenarios that are incongruous with the character that you have helped shape, it leaves a bitter taste. This is exemplified best in the romance subplot throughout the game. Early on it does clue you into a bit of flirtation, but midway through the game it turns into a jarring and forced aspect that feels really awkward not to have any say in.

Ultimately, where I land on Vampyr is a bit muddied, as well. While I love the way the conversations and city maintenance aspects intertwine to make London feel lived in and consequential, I’m much more ambivalent toward some story beats and the combat. It absolutely satisfies that itch of playing as a true bloodsucker, but stumbles when trying to guide players from plot point to plot point. Combine these deficiencies with the bugs and somewhat repetitive world navigation, and you’ve really dampened what could have been an electrifying experience.

Verdict

Vampyr succeeds when it focuses on its cast of complex and interesting characters. There’s a great symbiosis between those characters and the world they live in that drives the game forward at all times. By focusing on the interplay between those characters, their stories, and their community, Vampyr forces you to sit with your choices. While it is ultimately dragged down by its bog-standard combat and disappointing story beats, Vampyr still stands as a great take on the Vampire RPG. It might even be the best we’ve seen yet.

Image Credits: Focus Home Interactive and Dontnod Entertainment