Much like The Elysium Enigma, Floatpoint sets me down on a strange planet with a familiar-but-alien culture. As in Elysium, I arrive with straightforward orders from my superiors, but I soon discover secrets on the planet which prompt me to take things into my own hands. Floatpoint, however, has no naked chicks in rivers. Or at least none that I could find.
In spite of this, in many ways it's a better game than Elysium. The odd bug aside, it runs much more smoothly; the puzzles (such as they are) are much more natural and integrated much better into the environment. I needed the hints to uncover Elysium's secrets, but I could find everything here myself -- at least, I was left with no open questions at the end of the game. Some obscure actions and unusual verbs are well hinted (such as >REPLYing to mails, or >SINGing in a certain place). The interaction never felt forced or awkward.
Floatpoint's story is a bit further in the background than I'd like it to be, but at least it and the worldbuilding aren't dumped on me. It's a more ambitious and less pulpy story than the one in Elysium, a work of more unity and consistency, with characterisation more subtle and more nuanced. The Floatpoints of the title exploit a force which attracts from afar and repulses up close; no doubt a metaphor for the meeting of different cultures in the game (and also perhaps some of its personal relationships). The protagonist of the game attempts to tackle a difficult moral and political question, which has some relevance in the current world: whether or not to accept an alien culture in our backyard, and on what terms. He can take many different courses of action, for which arguments are carefully detailed on all sides.
But in spite of all this, I found Floatpoint a less compelling experience than Elysium. Its world-building is more comprehensive, but also more decorative; I had the feeling that most of its locations were skilfully made out of tinsel and chipboard. I didn't believe in the place. The Aleheart colony is on the verge of being engulfed by glaciers, but after the first location I never got an impression of coldness, advancing ice, imminent apocalypse. Crowd scenes are always difficult to pull off in IF, and it was jarring here to be reminded that certain locations were supposed to be full of people. The park seemed just as empty as the PC's private restroom. I also didn't believe that the PC's big choice was something that would have been left up to just one person, or that his choice would necessarily make such a difference in the long run. In such situations, there are larger, objective forces involved, huge masses of historical and political and economic inertia to overcome, which are not dismissed so easily.
As in Best of Three, the PC is that uncomfortable almost-everyman again. He has a background and opinions that aren't mine, which are thrown up at odd uncomfortable moments, but doesn't otherwise have the assertiveness to establish himself as a separate character. Most of the time he seems like the standard ageless faceless genderless PC. I'm reminded of his masculinity by the occasional reference to his physical features, such as the way the white jacket makes him feel "as though all his chest hair is being forced to lie flat". Myself, I can't say I've ever felt such a sensation, despite all my spandex T-shirts and my 70s Lothario chest carpet.
Most crucially of all, I never get the impression that the PC has an opinion on the big choice he has to make. The flashes of characterisation he is given just work against the structure of the game. If the PC has an independent opinion on some issues, why doesn't he have an opinion on the big issue? Why leave the final choice entirely up to me, when I didn't choose anything else about my character? What does the PC bring to the party?
I would have welcomed some of his guidance on the final decision, because to be honest I didn't have much of an opinion myself. Floatpoint follows the same basic outline as Slouching Towards Bedlam: I spend most of the game gathering information, and then I act on it; there are multiple endings. And while I think it's a much better game than Slouching, and while its big moral question is much more relevant, I still found myself apathetic when it came to deciding on an answer. In the end, I just tried every combination of colour and gift, just to see the outcome.
The outcome is always a little postludium in which the PC or some other character tries to justify the choice, weighs up the pros and cons, and wraps everything up in neat little phrases, eliciting solemn nods all round. This just distances me even further. There's no point in consoling me about my choice of ending, because I don't choose any ending. I have no personal stake in any particular one: I just want to see them all, and I go through them methodically like the options on a conversation menu. It's an odd case where greater freedom of action makes a game less interactive.
I think the author made a mistake in trying to balance the question so carefully: since the PC has no opinion either way, the final decision is just a matter of arbitrarily upsetting some people and pleasing others. I was never immersed enough in the game to favour one side over any other. I might bring in some general moral preferences myself, but the even-handedness of the outcomes gives me little reward or incentive to apply them in the game. Oddly enough, I think I would have warmed to Floatpoint more if there had been just one "winning" ending and several unsatisfactory ones, even if the ending was one I wouldn't have chosen myself. After all, none of the outcomes in the current game are really my decision, and it's no use pretending that they are.
I never really warmed to it, but I still think Floatpoint is a very good game, well-written, well-designed and with lots to keep a player occupied. It's another game I wouldn't be surprised or disappointed to see winning the competition.
Rating: 8