Arkwright's most infamous invention to date – an aquatic mutation if you will – is a liquid-based lifeform he's dubbed a Fluro. Fluros are cute little critters – one eye in the middle of an amorphous and generally translucent blob that boasts leg-like appendages and the apparent consistency of Jell-O. Fluros are not only cute, they're global too. You see, corporations worldwide were quick to pick up on a worker that does not fatigue, does not make errors, does not complain, and is instantly replaceable. Thusly, Fluros veritably litter the planet.
Sadly, it turns out the little buggers are not perfect. Indeed, some have gone a bit wacko in Arkwright's own sprawling lair – generally being naughty and doing things they're not asked to do – and at the outset of the game Arkwright has taken it upon himself to solve the problem. As good fortune would have it, that's precisely when you enter the picture.
Into this Steampunkish environment you wade, with little grasp on the story and what's to befall you other than a quick glance at several still photos and a scant few words from Arkwright's journal. This is one of the joys – or pitfalls, depending on your perspective – of this game named Vessel. There are no instructions. There are no hints. In fact, apart from a list of commands, you are for all intents and purposes on your own. Even the gameplay interface is blissfully free of control overlays and operational icons.
Vessel is distinctive in that the ubiquitous antagonists – the Fluros – aren't always antagonistic. In fact, they're more mischievous than hateful even when they're behaving badly, and they’re always useful.
In Vessel, you solve puzzles in one location in order to unveil the opening that takes you to the next location. You do so by operating machinery (interesting, throwback machinery – think Wild Wild West), which in turn involves jumping on raised platforms (that behave like big on/off buttons), leaping into the air to grab levers, swinging back and forth on pulleys and chains a la Tarzan, and much more. Why anyone would build such elaborate craziness simply to activate machines is another question altogether.
The central focus throughout is…liquid. Developer Strange Loop games has apparently taken great pains to at least semi-accurately model the physics of liquid as it moves about, and that's a good thing because it is essential to just about everything within the game. And in Vessel, liquid acts as liquid should.
Liquid is, of course, the substance from which Fluros are made. And it is you who most often creates them, usually by aiming various liquid-propelling nozzles/guns at various spots and watching as little Fluros take shape. This is something you'll want to do quite often, as most Fluros can and will help you achieve your goals, sloshing about hither and thither to obediently operate stuff you either can't reach or don't have the time to reach. To paraphrase the old adage, you can't live with Fluros, but you definitely won't live without 'em.
But you'll use liquid for other things too, spraying it into tight spots to make something happen remotely or using it in conjunction with Fluro "seeds" to hatch little helpers in what otherwise are inaccessible locations. And when you're not using it, you're experiencing it. You'll wade through liquid, you'll be soaked by it as it cascades down from above, and you will undoubtedly be harmed by it as you move forward into the meat of the game. Here, Fluros show their versatility and could well be comprised of molten lava rather than water, with disastrous repercussions if you don't handle the situation correctly. Indeed, once you've acquired your portable nozzle and backpack – likely after several hours of gameplay – the danger level is ramped up considerably. Sure, you can create Fluros wherever you want, but you're now, quite literally, playing with fire. This is precisely when the do-overs begin in earnest.
If there is one unshakeable fact about Vessel, it's that seemingly everything of importance is intended to interact, one way or another, with numerous other objects/items of importance. With such vague instructions at your disposal, it's up to you to decide which parts go where – and when. It is a very clever concept that Strange Loop hath wrought, and even cleverer (some might say diabolical) puzzle design, and it often takes all your brain power, gobs of experimentation, and sometimes every last ounce of your patience to find your way through.
This cannot be overstated – Vessel is definitely not an easy game. It's casual insomuch that there's no official timer, but it will otherwise demand your full attention. And it will on occasion confound so much that edgy types will want to crack their keyboard in half and stomp their mouse into its base elements. If your attention span is so short you have trouble making it to the end of this review, this is not the game for you.
But even for those who actually enjoy finishing Rubik's Cubes, Vessel can be frustrating. And not in a good way. You see, the game's mechanics are loose - real loose - as is object interaction and even the boundaries that make up those objects. Many times Arkwright will fail to hurdle a given object repeatedly until suddenly and without reason he's successful. Many times Arkwright appears to be suspended in space, clearly levitating above the object he's supposed to be standing upon. And many the time he tries to aim a nozzle or throw a Fluro seed or even move in a given direction, only to be rejected because what you see doesn’t quite line up with what the game thinks you should be seeing.
Thank goodness for the game's musical score. The last thing you need when stressing – either happily or unhappily – is to be walloped over the head with mondo tuneage, and thankfully Vessel is all about the subtle and the atmospheric. Piano diddling, a little synth – good thinking man's stuff. Audio effects range from subdued to rough and mechanical to just plain cute, and all seem nicely suited to the subject matter.