In the days since wrapping up the final chapter of A Plague Tale: Innocence, I’ve been left wondering one thing: Why is this fun?
The Black Death was responsible for wiping out over half of Europe’s population in the 14th century. One of the world’s most infamous pandemics is a dark period of time mainly left to the history books. We read about the horrific suffering and disease with hundreds of years of separation, yet the slightest hint that the bubonic plague has sprung up in a remote location or with a handful of people is enough to conjure thoughts of rotted flesh and disease-infested rats.
This is not the kind of material one might use to craft a game but developer Asobo Studio thought it a proper setting for a story of two siblings fighting back the darkness of our world at its most bleak. How then, could can this game be fun?
After my second day with A Plague Tale: Innocence I described the plot to a friend and noted that I was enjoying my time in this game about The Black Death, to which she replied along the lines of, “I’m sure the people back then would be glad to hear you’re having a good time.” Of course, this was a friendly jab but for the remainder of my time with the game and many of the moments I reflected on it, that simple commentary was lodged in my brain. Were you to travel back in time and tell a person ravaged with plague that a game was being made about the experience, would they think their suffering was worth it? I can’t imagine so.
Then I thought back to Call of Duty and wondered how any war-torn soldier or civilian would view their experience reflected back in such radicalized, action-packed terms. Telling a story rooted in reality is volatile. Television crime dramas use “ripped from the headlines” events as their bread and butter. Horror films are more “based on actual events” than an original thought. Looking at the past through the lens of a documentary often makes tragedy and strife entertaining from an educational standpoint. We see how events played out, what their repercussions were, and how we can possibly learn to be and do better. This cause and effect mentality captivates our curiosity. Since we are far removed from these events, we can breathe a sigh of relief knowing that we are better informed and less likely to suffer the same fate.
The Last of Us taught many players that the spectrum of human emotions is a source of entertainment. Whether or not you argue that Naughty Dog’s masterpiece of interactive storytelling was “fun” is up to you. But the relationship between Joel and Ellie was fraught with pain, joy, loss, love, and hope. The game’s ability to juggle moments of catharsis between gameplay and cutscene remains an example that others strive for. And it’s in that same vein I found myself so strongly enamored by A Plague Tale: Innocence.
On a fall afternoon in mid-1300s France, Amicia de Rune is out hunting with her father. Kissed by the sun, the forests and its leaves are bathed in oranges, yellows, and reds–a stark contrast to the game’s title screen where a swarm of rats churn on a corpse. Immediately the player is asked to be comfortable, to embrace this casual moment between father and daughter. But this juxtaposition nearly strips away the safe space of a tutorial where we learn to crouch and climb over obstacles and use Amicia’s sling to knock apples off a tree. That dire image of black rats with glowing red eyes is seared into the brain, a foreshadowing.
Despite the ill omen, players have ample time in this moment to acclimate to the idea of playing as a young aristocratic French girl. Amicia has a determination that gives an edge to her carefree attitude. She is quick to prove her skill to her father but becomes distressed when the mood goes awry. The afternoon foray takes a sinister turn as Amicia’s dog Lion (pronounced like the French would say it, mind you), yelps in pain and you watch as he in pulled into a hole in the ground. This crescendo resists a payout as Amicia and her father return to their estate to inform her mother Beatrice of what has transpired. For both Amicia and the player, the unease remains as the time for mourning a furry friend is overtaken by the thought of what lies beneath.
In a short span of time we are introduced to Hugo, Amicia’s young brother who has been kept in seclusion. Beatrice spent much of Amicia’s youth tending to Hugo and ignoring her daughter. Though brother and sister are nearly strangers, Hugo holds child-like fascination with a sister who holds back resentment for him. These emotional bonds between the characters are not given to the player easily. By venturing around the estate, players can interact with certain characters or seek out collectibles that offer a few hints.
France at this point in history is also embroiled in the Hundred Years’ War with England. However, that fact does not explain why the de Rune’s community is attacked by the Inquisition who seeks Hugo. Commandeered by an imposing Captain, the Inquisition begins to set ablaze Amicia’s world. In an effort to escape, Beatrice leads her children past guards, teaching us the game’s basics along the way.
The bond between Amicia and Hugo is at the core of A Plague Tale: Innocence. Regardless of the lingering negative feelings she may have, Amicia does her best to keep Hugo safe. Nearly every moment the two appear on screen together they are holding hands. Imagine Ico, except the two characters have an even deeper intrinsic bond. Amicia is Hugo’s rock and if she tells him to wait in place and moves far enough away, he will become scared and shout for her, drawing attention to anyone nearby. If a barrier must be crossed, the time must be made for Amicia to lift Hugo up first, then herself. But both of them are still nearly powerless against soldiers with weapons, so the first major slice of gameplay has Beatrice directing players on how to toss stones and jars as distractions.
When against stealth titans like Metal Gear Solid and Splinter Cell, A Plague Tale: Innocence‘s tactics of sneaking around walls and through tall grass is paltry. Again, keep in mind these are children and it would make little sense for these systems to become overly complex. Over the course of the game, newcomers to Amicia and Hugo’s team will tend to stick close to Amicia. Friendly AI is sensible and will almost never get you in much trouble because their focus is being directed by the player to interact with enemies or the world. Reducing the amount of literal and figurative babysitting makes a more enjoyable experience.
Suffice it to say, Amicia and Hugo are soon orphaned and the first chapters of the game conclude with a chase. The Inquisition is baring down on the siblings and Amicia screams for Hugo to run as fast as he can. The ground begins to violently shake and the soldiers shooting arrows and brandishing swords are unnerved by an unseen force. It’s an incredible rush of adrenaline and genuine tension that the game frequently capitalizes on. Cinematic moments are never cheap, instead they frame the drama for what is about to come and captivate the player, or just give them a moment to catch their breath. And the rats are still about an hour away.
A Plague Tale: Innocence does its damnedest to straddle that uncomfortable space between fiction and reality. Skew too far into either direction and one side becomes the weaker. Asobo Studio spends a crucial amount of time characterizing its two protagonists in the real world. That sunlit fall afternoon is replaced by a dilapidated town. Without a person in sight, the rotted fruits and meats of a riverside market paints a small hamlet with Lovecraftian hues. Any player who knows their history will recognize a town in the midst of the plague. Bodies are being burned and houses are being marked as villagers turn to violence to make sense of the madness. Brought together by tragedy and the confusion of this desolate outside world, Amicia and Hugo begin the process of getting to know each other. Hugo asks questions of everything and Amicia replies with bewilderment, confusion, and frustration.
The voice acting in A Plague Tale: Innocence is stunning. The main leads capture the essence of youth and maturity on the brink. As great as the French voice work is for a game set in France developed by a French company, the English audio is baffling in its delivery. For smaller studios, budget can always take hold when extracting quality actors who put everything into a role. I feared the same would befall Amicia, Hugo, and the rest of the cast. Thankfully, that does not happen. Even the chief antagonists know when to play to the extremes and be an evil super villain and when to dial it back for more subtlety.
The game truly began putting its narrative hooks in after Amicia kills someone for the first time. I’ve always lamented the reception Lara Croft got in the Tomb Raider reboot where she agonizes over killing a person for the first time and shortly after goes about her day shooting people in the head with arrows. In a game like that, such deliberate growth is hard to do, especially if you want to make an action game. For Amicia, she uses her sling to pelt a villager in the head who is threatening her life and Hugo’s. A young girl threatened by an imposing man takes one life to save two. The gameplay reflects this because players are forced to dodge and run away until they have a free opening. After the bloodshed, Amicia is left in tatters, crying, horrified, and pleading to the gods. Players can feel her pain and it only makes us further attached.
Amicia is not forced to take a life until later in the game. Her and Hugo make a desperate escape into the safety of a church and hide from any potential danger. This allows her pain over killing another human to have an impact that shapes how players may approach future encounters with enemies. Do you see her as a vengeful girl who kills to stay alive in a violent, grisly world or does she stay in the shadows for fear of death?
These emotional moments are frequent in the game and unquestionably amplified by Olivier Deriviere’s haunting soundtrack. I try to avoid hyperbole when writing reviews but often I am a sucker for exceptional soundtracks in games. Deriviere’s score is in the upper echelon of those that not only compliment what is unfolding on the screen but enhancing it. Using string instruments as a backbone, the heartbreak and terror of each moment was etched with tension and mourning. Small pockets of hope are plucked to life and give the player momentary relief. It is not often that a game’s music feels so important to the structure and enjoyment of the overall experience. Without it, the story may not have resonated as much.
To spice up gameplay, players are able to craft different ammunition that can be put into Amicia’s sling. One ammo type sets torches and other objects on fire, while another can be tossed on the ground and cause any nearby rats to swarm to it. Along the way, players can upgrade Amicia’s sling and equipment to make her more effective. The introduction of a new character often means a new mechanic is being introduced and I appreciate that these are drawn out during the first half of the game. Later upgrades and crafted items do lose a sense of purpose but, in the final chapters, do make Amicia a force to be reckoned with.
When players are introduced to the rats, it is not with a trickle but a deluge. They burst through the walls and floors and consume any warm flesh that is not bathed in light. Firelight is safety and Amicia and Hugo are exposed to this new dread in the crypt of a church–not exactly a haven of warmth and light. A Plague Tale: Innocence begins its dive into the supernatural, dancing with the notion of a “tale” and an alternate version of history.
More than any human foe in the game, the literal sea of rats that players come into contact with are ruthless. They are an exaggeration of what most of us perceive to be the cause of The Black Death. They are a destructive force giving fuel to the main antagonists. Not only are they what changes the course of history, they are what brings these protagonists closer together. Over the course of the game, Amicia and Hugo will meet four other orphans: Lucas, an alchemist’s apprentice; Mellie and Arthur, thieves with no home; and Rodric, who lost his blacksmith father to the Inquisition. Rather than get bogged down by a bloated cast, the stakes are further raised because each new friend is sympathetic and easy to bond with.
Over the course of A Plague Tale: Innocence‘s 17 chapters, I couldn’t believe that each new revelation or impactful moment hit so close to the chest. The supernatural roots of the rats and the connection to Hugo’s illness isn’t dangled in front of players. As viewers, we are likely more privy to information or assumptions than a band of children who likely aren’t 18. Instead, it’s the delivery of narrative moments and how the characters are written that sell each part of the journey. Amicia’s rudeness towards Hugo at first is an expression of her resentment, then it stems from panic and desperation. She at first hides information from him because she is overwhelmed, but then does so to protect him. Even when unfolding before the increasingly surreal odds, the relationship and actions of these characters makes sense and feels like a reward for all previous exposition. Against such an intangible threat, Amicia and Hugo still fight for each other and it’s absolutely gut-wrenching to watch the horrors they go through.
A Plague Tale: Innocence is a powerful game built on the spectrum of human emotions. The crippling sadness of losing loved ones, the joy of a small victory, the pain of ultimate sacrifice. Through Amicia and Hugo, players are given one of the most resounding narrative experiences in recent memory. An incomparable soundtrack and deep world-building only serve to elevate the game to a higher tier of quality. Only after its relentless, taught grip on your heart does A Plague Tale: Innocence finally let you breathe and even then, it’s a feeling you won’t soon forget.