We’ve seen so many IPs benefit from experimenting with ports or sequels specifically crafted for virtual reality headsets, including Half-Life and, of course, Resident Evil. Although I wasn’t an enormous fan of Metro Exodus, which dragged the series in an open zone direction I didn’t care much for, I am a big fan of the original games. Metro, on paper, reads like a title that’d be a natural fit for a format like virtual reality which is so immersive and particularly interactive. I hoped by taking it back to the tunnels, and focusing on the scrappy, survivalist elements of the originals, that Metro Awakening might feel like Metro of old.
One thing Awakening does to separate itself from the other mainline titles is that it places you in the boots of a new character, setting Artyom aside to help build out the universe’s dense canon. Having been penned in partnership with the novel’s author Dimitri Glukhovsky, there’s an evident care in fleshing out some characters we might not have seen before. You play as Serdar, a medical practitioner who’s surviving like everyone else in post-fallout Moscow. As other Metro games have, Awakening doesn’t shy away from its spiritual and supernatural side as Yana, Serdar’s wife, is tortured by memories and apparitions of their son, who’d passed at the beginning of their life underground, and sets off into the metro chasing ghosts.
This, of course, prompts Serdar to abandon his bedside manner and take up arms against the radiated monsters and raiders of the metro in an effort to save his grieving wife from herself. Metro Awakening’s place in the canon, and what they’re doing with a certain character’s origins, is telegraphed rather early and, due to a few reasons, never ultimately amounts to feeling like the twist in the tale it should be. That said, the story told is full of heart and does well to fill in a few blanks from before our time with Artyom.
To get it out of the way, and to clarify as it is available on multiple headsets of varying qualities, I did play this game on PlayStation VR2, having plucked it from the underdepths of my bed, like an ancient relic.
The last time I donned the visor was for Arizona Sunshine 2 which, funnily enough, was developed by the very same team who handled this game, Vertigo Games. With that being the case, there’s a huge similarity between the two in terms of how movement, level progression, and combat is handled, at least on the user-side. It’s also a very different game in so many ways, most obvious is that it’s a hard task to bask in the hot sun when in a nuclear winter.
In terms of combat, I’d say it leans more claustrophobic and tactical. Going from the undead shambling towards you, groaning with arms outstretched, to armed raiders rattling gunfire through windows while mutated dog things nip at your back after flanking you using their makeshift tunnel systems is a huge departure, and in an effort to add grounding and grit to the disparate setting, the gunplay loses its fun a little.
While using the guns themselves is great, as usual, I found firefights, particularly those at range, to be frustrating. I’d be popping hopeful shots off in the dark, aiming for the muzzle flashes of those who’d wish me dead, only for their perfect aim to tag me time and again, leading to either a retreat on my part or me running out of ammo, which is already scarce to begin with. When dealing with modest numbers, I’d often resort to running in and placing a swift pistol round to the dome—it felt counter to the game’s intent but undoubtedly visceral and effective.
An unfortunate byproduct of this being a VR title, but could be explained away by Serdar not being a militant fighter, is that the resourceful, makeshift nature of modifying guns from past Metro games isn’t present at all. All guns, and their bullets, are found about the metro itself, which does keep things simple, but it does feel like an extraction of something special.
With the underwhelming gunplay hamstringing the game’s meat and bones, stealth actually felt like the most viable means of working your way through the tunnels. Taking a quiet approach works well enough because there’s plenty of darkness to hide yourself in and the enemies, like their surroundings, aren’t that bright. They’re clearly a rung above the literally brain dead zombies from Arizona Sunshine, though I’d still say they’re easily duped, until they get you in their sights. General sneakiness is only one part of the equation, however, as it begins to fall to pieces when it comes to closing the deal and bopping a bad guy on his head to knock him out. It requires you to get near enough, but not too near, and clumsily punch your arm out in the hopes you’d closed the gap enough. So often I’d misjudge the distance and simply fall short, fortunately their aforementioned stupidity meant they didn’t register my missed punch’s small puff of air on the back of their neck.
I do like that the scrappy, survivalist aspects of Metro are well enough intact, thanks to Serdar’s all-important backpack, which can be pulled out by reaching over and grabbing behind your left shoulder. Although we never seem to glimpse its contents, all kinds of key items hang off its every corner. In an effort to keep a clean user interface, your objective and ammunition count are scribbled on a board at the top, while a trusty lighter, ever-important gas mask and filters, and crank-handled battery pack that you’ll use repeatedly to generate power for not only your head lamp, but for rusted out fuse boxes in the metro. Every item requires a tactile input that felt earned and kept immersion at the forefront of the experience, even if I would have looked like an idiot going to town cranking it in the lounge room—what?
With its combat not quite hitting the mark, the Metro in VR experience, sadly, feels best in its quieter, less action-packed moments, when you’re able to take in the signature atmosphere the series has long been known for. The sad solitude of the metro tunnels, at least the parts that aren’t teeming with nightmarish horrors, cuts a stark contrast with the stations themselves which, at several points, feel like bustling, relatively happy places. Life, albeit a heavily compromised version of it, does march on here, and the sights of people tending bar and lending their ear to the broken, people strumming guitars around fires, and people simply resting in the homes they’ve fashioned from dilapidated train cars all paint a picture and create the sense of place I’ve adored about Metro forever.
A format like VR so rarely has wins, and although I’m far from prepared to call Metro Awakening a system seller for any of its platforms, it’s in the upper echelon of experiences available. It tells an earnest story that deserves its place in the world, cleverly uses the technology to blend immersion with atmosphere, and it’s only due to the combat’s inability to nail down the fun that it ultimately falls short of expectations.
