Soma's Aquatic Aesthetics

Released at the tail end of 2015, Frictional Games' latest project marked a significant environmental departure from the haunted halls and mineshafts of their previous Amnesia and Penumbra titles by taking players on a mind-twisting journey through the dilapidated remains of a futuristic facility called Pathos-II located on the floor of the Atlantic Ocean. I wanted to talk about the overall design and aesthetic of Soma's world as it's some of the best environmental design and art direction I've seen in a long time. I want to discuss the game's plot at some point as well because it's fascinating but that will be at another time.

Exploring Upsilon, Pathos-II's power station. Source: Section-Nine

The interiors of Pathos-II are an interesting blend of chunky utilitarian design similar to something like the Nostromo from Alien but with an oddly high-ceiling, almost cavern-like motif featured in much of the initial areas like, Upsilon pictured above. It's not nearly as claustrophobic as the suffocating Beebe Station from Starfish and sometimes almost feels too... roomy. Not in a "this is so scientifically inaccurate, these corridors should only be X feet by X feet!" way, but in an industrialized, cold way: it's obvious from the start that Pathos-II isn't exactly a homey, friendly place, and it seems to suit the remaining functioning robots and station-wide AI, the Warden Unit, better than it ever did the crew members.

A constellation of Structure Gel occupying a nearly-collapsed section of site Tau. Source: rythymblow

 Everything's surface is cold and sleek like a hospital. Deposits of mechanical "structure gel" are everywhere, and it's hard to tell if the Warden Unit is plugging leaks and propping the walls up or slowly smothering Pathos-II to death. The living quarters and medical wing of Theta are the only areas that offer a break from the rest of the station's starkly pre-fab, no-cubic-inch-wasted design. While the open space would normally make one feel a bit less closed in, the illusion of a roomier space only made me even more aware of the fact that I'm in one of the most precarious and hostile environments a human can occupy, feeding my dread. Not sure if I picked up exactly what Frictional was putting down with that, put it certainly was effective in any case.

A laboratory in the medical wing, site Theta. Source: thundra

The crown in Soma's jewel, though, must be the sections of the game that place you outside of the relative safety of Pathos-II and force you to traverse the hazy ocean floor itself. Admittedly I haven't played many games (or seen many movies, even) that feature ocean floor environments as much as is presented here, but I can pretty confidently say that the art direction of these areas will remain as just as impressive as it stands now. The only recent games I can recall that looked as good as Soma does during these sections are Abzu and Mad Max, both titles that are well known for looking stupid good.

The remains of an assembly line at site Delta. Source: DokiQuies

Dim lights of outbuildings faintly pierce the darkness while spindly guide lamps provide most of the illumination during these sections as your chief source of illumination, a small flashlight, is more of a comfort blanket than an actual navigational aid. Algae and other undersea plant life sway in the current as barnacles coat the exteriors of the various man made structures you find. The expansive emptiness provides little respite from the harsh confinement of the station's corridors and, as the game went on and I spent more time in the various underwater locations like the sunken ruins of the Curie, Pathos-II's supply ship, the harsh walls of the habitats started to seem a hell of a lot better.

An obelisk of unknown purpose near Upsilon. Source: Aethere

 Abandoned fish farms outside of site Omicron.

Abandoned and derelict outbuildings (like the empty fish farms above) are everywhere as it seems no one is around to tend to them by the time Simon finds himself waking up in the facility. This location in the game is near the abyssal plain's drop-off point, the descent to the terminal depths of the bottom of the ocean floor doable only with the aid of a shark cage-esque elevator known as the Climber (below). Easily one of the most powerful vistas in the game, the machine rests in its mount on an arm precariously hanging off the edge into what as well may be deep space. Strange and unseen-until-now aquatic life, most notably brilliantly luminous jellyfish, drift by through the void undeterred by the increasingly inhospitable pressure.

The less-than-rock-solid walkway leading to the Abyssal Climber.

Bio-luminescent life around the Climber as it makes its descent. Source: Impetus

Soma saves the best for last, though. Upon arriving on the ocean floor you find conditions that are only marginally more human-friendly than the surface of an alien planet: your vision blurs permanently due to the astronomical amounts of pressure being placed on your diving suit and the only respite from the crushing darkness are the decayed ruins of the Pathos team's makeshift storehouses and obersvation shacks and a series of small guideposts guiding you to your next objective. The mechanical influence of the station's warden unit is just as present here as above: inky tendrils snake off into the darkness, far from the feeble comfort the few remaining light fixtures bring. Combined with the bizarre lifeforms on display (yes, those are spiders below) and the torrential current of the trench's tectonic activity rendering you nearly deaf and blind, that this environment, despite still sticking with the mechanics you've grown used to through the course of the game and being fundamentally similar to the other "walking around the ocean" bits you've played, manages to stand out as something so alien and unnerving is a big testament to Frictional's design work here. The idea of setting a horror game at the bottom of the Marianas trench seems so obvious and it works so well here that I'm surprised by how seldom it's been attempted.

Near the Climber's landing point in the Abyss. Note the distorted vision caused by the immense pressure. Source: Rain

An outbuilding near the Climber. Clouds of phosphorescent jellyfish and the Warden Unit's tendrils provide much of the little available illumination. Source: Chewable C++

An undersea cave coated in pycnogonid. Source: Kodijack!

Near the hub of the Warden Unit, nearly 100% of the environment has been subsumed by tendrils and Structure Gel growth. Source: AZWew

A guidepost in the abyss. And something else? Source: Fernando Esra

The remaining Pathos habitats you explore during this stretch of the game reflect the hostility of the local environment by featuring the most cramped architecture to be found through Soma's many different locations. Hallways are narrow and poorly lit as you make your way to the narrative's conclusion, hopefully finally understanding what happened to the crew members who seem to have vacated the facilities along with the motivations and fate of Pathos-II's Warden Unit AI system.

Mess hall of site Tau, one of the final holdout areas of the Pathos crew. Source: DOOM

Site Phi, and the home of the Omega Space Gun. Source: SABINA

Curiously, the final area you visit (above) is also probably the environment that seems the least infected with black goop and tentacles, which is kind of interesting if you have the context for it from the situation in game. And that's pretty much it. Writing this has made me really want to play through the whole thing again, so I might just do that so I can add some screenshots of my own and not have to rely on the dubious Fair Use policies of Steam users' screenshots. If this whole thing seems kind of fellating than I guess it really is - Soma is an incredible experience that I can't recommend enough to anyone interested in sci-fi, horror, existential weirdness, or just damn good looking (and sounding!) games.