Phoenix Springs is a neat noir detective adventure that revels in nonsense.
It feels like games in a point-and-click adventure format are prime subjects for experimentation in terms of visual style and even gameplay. Take one look at Phoenix Springs, and you will not be able to help but admire just how far Calligram Studio has taken it stylistically.
I cannot deny, though, that I had some doubts about whether a point-and-click adventure title, a genre I had only dabbled in as a child playing a game like The Hardy Boys’ Treasure on the Tracks on the Nintendo DS, would be able to keep me interested enough to complete a playthrough.
I must admit, the bar is very low for me in this case, but my recent mention of how TikTok and doom-scrolling on other social media platforms have rotted my brain in my review of KILL KNIGHT should give you an idea of what sort of gamer I have become over the years.
Despite my shortcomings, Phoenix Springs does have a narrative that is miraculously able to hold my attention. The game throws you right into the deep end on a train with none other than the main female lead of Phoenix Springs as the sole passenger. Her name is Iris Dormer, and she is in search of her brother, Leo Dormer, who has distanced himself from her both physically and emotionally.
It took me a second to realize what I had to do in the very first scene. Phoenix Spring really does not give you an introduction when you start it. As a point-and-click adventure, you can click on things of note, and you can talk, look at, or use them. Interacting with them always follows with a nonchalant piece of dialogue from our lead, Iris.
There’s also another mechanic—when you right-click with your mouse, you get a pop-up menu of all the clues you have collected from interacting with the objects and people around you.
If you are familiar with Sherlock Holmes, you can think of this as Iris’ “Mind Palace.” You can click on one of them and then, subsequently, the object in the environment you think is correlated with it and see if that leads you anywhere.
In the first scene of Phoenix Springs, you must click “Leo Dormer” and then on Iris to let her inner monologue give you some context on where you are and what your goal is. As soon as you uncover the main clue from an area, you are met with a smooth transition that takes you to the next area or zone.
And, of course, every detective piece of media needs to have a character whose inner monologue you can hear. Iris is no exception to that rule. You can hear her monologue whenever you interact with things, and it is her monologue that you hear only for the entirety of Phoenix Springs. Even during interactions with other people—like with the landlord in the house next to Leon Dormer’s old place on 17 Taibao Street—you only hear dialogue through Iris’ monologue.
I think Phoenix Springs is as raw as it can possibly be while being simple. If you’ve ever thought to put yourself in the shoes of a detective in the real world, I think a lot of people would have the question, “Where do you even start?”. The game is very straightforward with the answer to that question; well, of course, you start with whatever nonsense is in front of you.
What do I mean by that? Well, in any scene in Phoenix Springs, there will be a ton of mundane objects, and when you interact with them, you will even populate the clues menu bit by bit.
However, you will soon realize that a lot of the clues you pick up on are simply nonsense that only happened to be there next to the significant leads that will progress the game. These red herrings, as you would call them in book terms, then get grayed out when you transition to the next scene.
I don’t know whether it’s a sense of relief or satisfaction that I feel when the clues I painstakingly collected in an area become grayed out as I manage to piece together enough information to take me to the next area, but it’s certainly there every time I make progress.
In terms of narrative, the theme of nonsense continues. You can tell there is an obvious inspiration from David Lynch’s works in the story. It starts with Iris investigating where Leo Dormer lives, then goes off on tangents and leads to wherever next that makes some sense.
Interestingly, the story of Phoenix Springs is told non-chronologically, with frequent jumps in time. So the beginning is actually the middle, and then we go back to the start, back to the middle, only to replay part of the beginning and return to the middle.
Finally, we reach the end—or rather, a part of the beginning with elements of the middle. If that confused you, I wouldn’t blame you. I can’t begin to explain the story to you despite reaching an ending.
Despite this, Phoenix Springs has a certain charm. Calligram Studio does not consider itself a game development studio but rather an art collective. When you keep this in mind, the structure and gameplay of Phoenix Springs begin to make sense.
From the visuals to the literary devices used, Phoenix Springs strives to put you in the shoes of Iris and have you piece together the clues that ultimately resolve nothing in the end. The use of Iris’ monologue to convey everything in this game makes you wonder how much of what is relayed to you is colored by her subjective view of the world. Her monotonous delivery of each line conveys a sense of detachment that seems to be present in other aspects of the game as well.
The world of Phoenix Springs seems to care little about being realistic and instead tries to be as far removed from the real world as possible. It’s a mix of cyberpunk and retrofuturism, so it’s impossible to pinpoint exactly when or where the story takes place. It looks dark, disheveled, and dystopian, with many areas feeling abandoned. Each interaction just ends up leaving you feeling unsettled.
I’ve mentioned the artistic visuals of Phoenix Springs before—I think each frame, from the dynamic camera angles to the colors and the use of rotoscoping, feels like an art piece. It all works towards making you feel as uncomfortable as possible. It goes with the theme of this game perfectly.
The music can sometimes be the darkest ambient drone you’ve ever heard, and at other times, it sounds like a synth wave. Again, it all works to make you feel uncomfortable.
It is difficult to rate Phoenix Springs as a game. If you enjoy reading books, especially those with detectives, you might find yourself enamored. But suppose you are expecting an action-packed or emotional adventure. In that case, you might want to look at something like Nobody Wants To Die instead.
The unresolved ending of Phoenix Springs works less as an artistic statement and more as pretentious, despite the game being atmospherically great leading up to it. At about four hours in length, Phoenix Springs feels like an emotionally exhausting interactive film that is visually stunning, but it is hard to recommend for everyone. Still, though, I enjoyed my time with it, and I think Phoenix Springs deserves to be played at least once by anyone who can appreciate art.
