Few games are as compellingly unique as The Thaumaturge, a murder mystery set in 1905 Poland, brimming with magical realism, intricate writing, and enough clever ideas to cover up a few shortcomings.
The Thaumaturge is a strangely cozy game, personally speaking.
Of course, one might not think such things about a game set in 1905 Poland, a country dealing with the encroaching threat of Revolution amidst Russian occupation. Soon the entire world would know war. Industry, culture, and technology were shifting.
In The Thaumaturge, the streets are lined with muddy poverty, upper-class parties, and the unseen spirits of numerous demons attaching themselves to humans with powerful emotional flaws.
It’s a strange concoction that dismisses extravagance, delivering a cohesive world that celebrates text-heavy narratives and clever synergy between gameplay and setting. For some reason, The Thaumaturge worked in a way that tickled my brain throughout its 20-ish hours. Most of that time was spent in two long weekend sessions that saw me absolutely absorbed in its dingy universe, one ripped from history but soaked in magical realism.
Behind the helm is developer Fool’s Theory. Set to work on The Witcher remake, it is difficult to ignore a personal gravitas present in The Thaumaturge with Fool’s Theory being a Polish developer. While I do not purport to be well-versed in the pre-World War I conflicts of Eastern Europe and Russia, one can’t ignore the rather precarious period of the early parts of the 20th century. And much like Indika developer Odd Meter–who left Russia amidst the conflict with Ukraine–there’s a palpable tension with Fool’s Theory’s tackling of the Polish/Russian conflict in The Thaumaturge.
The personal nature of the game is what made it frequently enthralling but all the more intimate. As Wiktor Szulski–spelled with a “W” not a “V” as he reminds a postman minutes into the game–players roam the streets of Warsaw, taking in a few districts from an isometric perspective. Wiktor can visit a secluded apartment to view some “late-night” entertainment, sample a pastry from a local bakery, or learn more about fancy new photography innovations.
Mechanically, these distractions are the primordial soup of RPG side-questing. Players run to a location, investigate a point of interest, and are rewarded with experience points, flavor text, and a stylized drawing of what that specific historical moment in time would have been. The Thaumaturge is peppered with moments like this, fleeting bits of content that can balloon a pool of skill points but are important because they establish a sense of feeling and place to a slice of the world not really touched upon in gaming.
I commend any developer who wishes to craft a game that experiments with the seemingly mundane, the reality of existing in the real world, in history. And The Thaumaturge does that quite well.
You do not need to be versed in world events surrounding the first decade of the 1900s and Fool’s Theory does not force it down players’ throats. The muted colors of the muddy streets and ramshackle homes of the impoverished district speak for themselves. The glitzy shops and tall buildings of the main city are brimming with sights and sounds and people are less prone to pick fights. The Thaumaturge‘s paintbrush doesn’t shy away from the uncomfortable reality of a citizenry clawing for meaning.
One of the first things seen when booting up the game is a message from Fool’s Theory stating that The Thaumaturge is developed by a team of diverse viewpoints. But it is also a game that takes place in a strikingly different world from current day, at least in some ways. And the player is told that unsavory dialog and situations are written as such. Racism and misogyny are just a sampling of what’s to be expected. Harsh views against the Jewish people are spoken with ease. Women are deemed less capable of running a business. Prostitutes are easy fodder for a serial killer. Children play in roads where blood was previously spilled.
But seeing that all so plainly, it doesn’t seem such strange fiction, does it?
The thrust of The Thaumaturge is the sudden death of Wiktor’s father. Wiktor hasn’t been home in 15 years, spending a significant amount of time wandering the world in search of answers to fully understand the gift and curse of being a thaumaturge. Upon returning to Warsaw, Wiktor sets out to solve the mysterious occurrence behind his father’s death, all while becoming involved with familial drama and other characters he comes to meet.
Wisely, the boundaries of this premise are not pushed to an unrecognizable state where Wiktor is wandering countries and following absurd red herrings to a grandiose solution. And that’s why The Thaumaturge was such a comfort to play.
What separates the experience from being too grounded is the existence of thaumaturges like Wiktor. Based on a real term, thaumaturges in this game are more than just simple healers and those who dabble in “magic.” Wiktor is among a group of people who can sense the emotions, history, and feeling of the world around him. It’s embedded into objects a person has interacted with. It glowingly pulses in the chest of a human. And it can manifest as demonic entities.
In the universe of The Thaumaturge, humans possess Flaws which draw in salutors who are demonic manifestations of said Flaws. Wiktor’s Flaw is Pride and its salutor has been following him around for years. The game opens with Wiktor seeking out Rasputin–yes, that one–to restore his connection to Upyr, his Pride salutor. We also learn that Wiktor has been piecing together how to attach multiple salutors, a rare feat for any thaumaturge.
Interestingly, this mystical element of The Thaumaturge never overpowers its more grounded nature. Wiktor is investigating the death of his thaumaturge father and the populace at large understands their existence isn’t entirely secret. More importantly, players use Wiktor’s talents to amplify the investigative portions of the game.
Throughout quests, the player can interact with numerous objects like a pearl necklace, a crumpled letter, or a bottle of alcohol. All of these items contain traces of the person who has interacted with them. Think of them as leads into a particular quest or query that will be taken on. Once collecting enough, Wiktor forms a conclusion that often unlocks a piece of dialog that can be asked of an NPC.
It is a fairly rudimentary process and one that is made simpler by the fact that players can hit the R2 button to pulse Wiktor’s “perception” either causing a crimson mist to snake towards a goal or trigger particles in the air that converge the closer he gets to an object of interest. These mysteries aren’t difficult to solve and aren’t really presented as puzzles. More so, they are seen as chunks of narrative that the player can often guide depending on their choices.
I relished in the quality of writing in The Thaumaturge‘s dialog and the text that accompanies the numerous discoveries to be made. Both Fool’s Theory and the localization team have done stellar work to draw players into the fiction, where it often reads like a thoughtful pulp novel. This is a game dense with text and players should prepare themselves if they expect any different. But at no point was I exhausted by the amount of spoken and written word, constantly wanting to see and do everything I could.
As an RPG, players have the option to invest upgrade points into 4 skill lines. At times, certain clues or choices won’t be available unless these have been unlocked. Additionally, Wiktor can respond in different ways but because his Flaw is Pride, often there will be a Pride-based choice that feeds into that Flaw. Sometimes a dialog option will only be available if players have chosen a Pride option enough times. Though it may add a bit of spice to alternative playthroughs, I was disappointed that the same options didn’t seem to exist for the other Flaws that Wiktor acquires through the game.
There is a sense that Wiktor can be tailored a bit towards the player’s proclivities. While he won’t turn into a mustache-twirling villain and players aren’t riding some Rogue/Paragon path, there’s flexibility with how snotty he comes across–being a prideful member of the societal upper crust after all–or how kind and appreciative he is of both family and community. Like any good RPG, there are several times where players can bypass combat or investigations if they say or do the right things.
Potentially the most absurd and magical thing in The Thaumaturge is its combat sequences. You’ll be impressed by how many times a man can be shot, stabbed, and bludgeoned and still attend a soiree in the evening. Jokes aside, the turn-based combat is ultimately satisfying despite its standard presentation and approach.
Nine times out of ten, Wiktor is going to be assaulted by a group of people. In the prologue, everyone seems to be after his shoes and coat. As the game progresses, fights will be picked over any manner of things: approaching grave robbers, asking the wrong question about a child in a bar, picking up a clue in the wrong part of town, or appearing too rich for a group of laborers. Most confrontations lead to Wiktor fighting a handful of opponents in a series of turn-based rounds.
A helpful timeline indicator at the top of the screen shows how long it will take an action to complete. Quick attacks are executed instantly but slower, more impactful moves can take two or more turns to trigger. Though the odds seem against Wiktor, players can instantly select one of his numerous salutors to aid him in battle. While only one salutor can be used per turn, it’s helpful that players have the ability to switch back and forth based on the needs of combat.
Enemies may have specific traits that minimize damage received or reward them with health after each round. These traits can only be removed by attacking with a specific salutor. Both Wiktor and enemies have a Focus bar that, when depleted, open them up for a devastating attack. Combat in The Thaumaturge becomes a delicate game of learning how to inflict status effects on opponents, maintain Wiktor’s health through salutor abilities, and whittle down HP bars.
The arithmetic doesn’t change much from this core. At times, a boss will appear that can’t be targeted and will grant a buff to opponents or inflict something on Wiktor. As player’s invest points into their skills, they unlock new abilities and modifiers that can be applied to skills. With the sheer amount of skill modifiers it would have been nice to have one or two loadouts but gracefully, players can adjust their skills and modifiers before any battle.
All these simple elements do paint The Thaumaturge as a thoroughly enjoyable package and that is mostly true. But there are some nagging issues that somewhat weaken the experience.
Combat, for all its simple enjoyment, is never that hard on any difficulty level. While it’s fun to get experimental, a handful of core strategies can provide smooth sailing for most of the game. When it comes to traversal, the game’s isometric view offers a striking glimpse at Warsaw but also can mean a lot of back and forth between familiar streets. While I don’t doubt Fool’s Theory’s technical chops, on PlayStation 5 The Thaumaturge does have a dated feel both visually and technically. In one instance, Wiktor’s head wildly twitched during an entire conversation. The camera can cut around oddly between cutscenes and transitions. The game’s graphics, while capitalizing on the tone of the world, lack a certain fidelity. But perhaps my biggest issue was the game’s spotty voice acting. While most of the key cast are handled with gravity and nuance, there’s a lot of voices that just made me scratch my head. There seems to be no way of knowing what kind of accent a character will have. I heard American, European, squeaky child, and something from the United Kingdom. At times it provided a bit of a laugh, other times it was too strange. A great solution? Put it on the Polish voice acting for the most authentic experience and the VO syncs up great with the mouth movements of the characters.
It should be a testament to Fool’s Theory that these issues didn’t lessen the overall impact of what The Thaumaturge was working to accomplish. I truly didn’t want to put the game down as I often felt attached to Wiktor as a character and invested not only in the main investigation but the world as a whole. It truly makes me wonder if there is a future for this mysterious group once some Witching is done.
The Thaumaturge is a compellingly unique game. It brims with magical realism, intricate writing, and a gripping mystery set in a rarely visited place in history. With clever ideas and a memorable turn-based combat system, players should be able to look past a few shortcomings that would otherwise trip up a less fascinating RPG.
