Immortality

Immortality is a single-player interactive movie and narrative investigation game where players uncover the mystery surrounding actress Marissa Marcel, who starred in three unreleased films before vanishing without a trace. As an investigator, players explore an archive of film reels, behind-the-scenes clips, and outtakes using a match-cutting mechanic—pausing scenes to click on objects, faces, or symbols to jump to related footage—piecing together her life, career, and dark secrets in a branching network of full-motion video without combat or traditional progression.

Immortality: Review

Introduction

Imagine sifting through dusty film reels in a dimly lit archive, your fingers hovering over a paused frame of a enigmatic actress whose face haunts cinema’s forgotten corners—only to uncover not just her fate, but the blurred line between reality, fiction, and eternity. Immortality, Sam Barlow’s audacious 2022 interactive film, plunges players into this labyrinthine mystery surrounding Marissa Marcel, a starlet whose three unreleased movies—Ambrosio (1968), Minsky (1970), and Two of Everything (1999)—hold the key to her disappearance. Building on Barlow’s revolutionary FMV experiments like Her Story and Telling Lies, Immortality cements his legacy as a pioneer of non-linear storytelling. This is no mere game; it’s a meta-cinematic triumph that interrogates the human cost of art, the allure of immortality, and film’s power to transcend mortality. My thesis: Immortality elevates FMV from gimmick to high art, delivering an unforgettable experience that demands patience but rewards with profound revelations, securing its place as one of the decade’s most innovative narratives.

Development History & Context

Half Mermaid Productions, founded by Barlow after his indie breakout Her Story (2015), spearheaded Immortality (initially teased as “Project Ambrosio” in 2020). Barlow, a former Silent Hill writer disillusioned with AAA constraints, envisioned a horror-infused evolution of his database-driven detective games. Freed from publisher oversight, he collaborated with screenwriters Amelia Gray (Mr. Robot), Allan Scott (The Riace), and Barry Gifford (Lost Highway), blending literary gothic roots (The Monk by Matthew Lewis) with Lynchian surrealism. Manon Gage, a Juilliard graduate fresh from a three-year hiatus, was cast as Marissa after Zoom auditions in 2021; her “knockout” performance became the emotional core.

Filming spanned 10 weeks in Los Angeles’ Arts District, covering 400 pages chronologically to capture the trilogy’s aging aesthetics: grainy 1960s giallo for Ambrosio, gritty 1970s neo-noir for Minsky, and glossy 1990s digital sheen for Two of Everything. Powered by Unity and FMOD, the project navigated FMV’s tech hurdles—no motion capture overload, but precise editing for match-cuts. Released amid a post-pandemic indie boom (August 30, 2022, on Windows/Xbox Series via Steam/GOG/Game Pass; Netflix mobile November; PS5 2024), it arrived as gaming grappled with “cinematic” pretenders like The Last of Us Part II. Day-one Game Pass access democratized its arthouse ambitions, contrasting blockbusters’ spectacle with intimate, player-led deduction in an era craving substance over bombast.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

Plot Unraveled: A Fractured Filmography

Immortality‘s narrative unfolds as a detective archive: players reconstruct Marissa Marcel’s career from 200+ clips—scenes, outtakes, interviews—via match-cuts on faces, objects, symbols. Surface layer: Marissa, a French model turned actress, debuts in Arthur Fischer’s sacrilegious Ambrosio (a Devils-inspired gothic tale of monk Ambrosio’s fall via temptress Matilda). Romanced by cinematographer John Durick, she co-writes/stars in Minsky (neo-noir murder in NYC’s art scene), halted by actor Carl Greenwood’s “accidental” prop-gun death. Vanishing for decades, she resurfaces ageless in Durick’s Two of Everything (body-double thriller echoing Epstein scandals), collapsing amid nosebleeds before vanishing forever.

Deeper layers, unlocked by rewinding clips (revealing “subverse” horrors), expose the supernatural: Marissa is “The One” (Charlotta Mohlin), an ancient Protean (vampiric muse-like entity) who devoured WWII-raped orphan Marissa Marcel. Paired with rival “The Other” (Timothy Lee DePriest), The One obsesses over humanity’s sex/violence/art; The Other scorns it. Clashes culminate in The One killing/replacing hosts (Carl, Durick), straining dual embodiment in Two of Everything. Finale: The Other (via Amy Archer) immolates The One on film, birthing digital immortality—The One possesses viewers, whispering, “I’m part of you now.”

Characters: Performances as Palimpsests

Manon Gage’s Marissa is a chameleon virtuoso—innocent ingenue, seductive Franny, dual Maria/Heather—her gaunt deterioration mirroring The One’s unraveling. Hans Christopher’s Durick evolves from passionate DP to horrified narcissist; Ty Molbak’s Carl, a naive foil devoured mid-film. Mohlin’s ethereal One and DePriest’s brooding Other embody cosmic lovers, their backmasked monologues (e.g., Genesis serpents, Christ-as-art) chillingly poetic. Supporting cast (Jocelin Donahue’s pleading Amy, John Earl Robinson’s lecherous Fischer) humanizes exploitation.

Dialogue & Themes: Art’s Immortal Hunger

Barlow’s script skewers auteur toxicity: Fischer’s casting-couch predation, Durick’s muse-abuse echo #MeToo indictments. Themes cascade—immortality via art (film as Protean resurrection); artist-muse exploitation (women as vessels); reality-fiction bleed (life imitates scripts). Biblical motifs (apples/snakes as Arc Symbols) probe creation myths; meta-layer indicts voyeurism (player as archivist/enabler). Dialogue crackles: Marissa’s orgasmic “acting” rehearsals blur performance/erotica; One’s monologues lament humanity’s “copycat” genius. It’s a dense tapestry, rewarding rewatches, but risks opacity for casuals.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

No combat or inventory—core loop is match-cutting: pause clips, click objects/faces/symbols (mirrors, snakes, fire) to branch narratives, unlocking 100%+ footage. Observation/deduction drives progression: catalog revisits clips; controller rumble/backmasking cues subverse rewinds (hidden Protean scenes). UI mimics Moviola—intuitive menu structures, point-and-click fluidity across mouse/controller/touch.

Innovations shine: non-linear freedom fosters “eureka” epiphanies (e.g., Durick interview subverse reveals One’s possession). Flaws emerge late-game: repetition (50+ clips for secrets), trial-and-error tedium, vague hints (no explicit tutorial). No traditional progression bar—achievements (e.g., full restorations) motivate completionists. Controller haptics (PS5 DualSense) enhance unease; 7-10 hour runtime suits bingeing, but sprawl frustrates. Genius for cinephiles; exhausting for action fans—Barlow’s boldest risk.

World-Building, Art & Sound

Setting & Atmosphere: Cinematic Palimpsest

Three eras coalesce into a meta-Hollywood netherworld: Ambrosio‘s candlelit Italian crypts (giallo homage); Minsky‘s seedy NYC lofts (cigarette haze, backless gowns); Two of Everything‘s sterile mansions (mo-cap suits, snake floats). Behind-scenes glimpses—rehearsals, talk shows—craft verisimilitude; subverse warps (Proteans invading sets) evoke Lynchian dread. Atmosphere builds via confinement: endless reels mirror entrapment in art’s cycle.

Visual Direction: FMV Mastery

Full-motion video dazzles—aspect ratios shift (4:3 vintage to 16:9 modern), grain/film stock evokes authenticity. Match-cuts mesmerize: candle-to-cigarette-to-flames. Gage’s micro-expressions, Mohlin’s uncanny gaze elevate; slow-burn horror peaks in fiery finale. Minor tech hitches (mobile compression) aside, it’s visually spellbinding.

Sound Design: Subtle Symphony

Nainita Desai’s score (BAFTA-nominated) weaves motifs—eerie strings, backmasked whispers. FMOD delivers layered audio: dialogue overlaps, rumbles cue secrets, crackling flames immerse. Performances shine vocally—Gage’s French quips, One’s hypnotic timbre. Sound forges unease, cementing FMV’s intimacy.

Reception & Legacy

Critics adored: 86% MobyGames aggregate (72 reviews), Metacritic 87/100 (PC). Perfect 10s from Edge (24th ever), Pure Xbox, XboxEra hailed “FMV triumph,” “lifetime best.” PC Gamer (95%) praised industry skewering; Guardian called “spellbinding.” Players averaged 3.8/5 (niche appeal). Commercially, Game Pass/Netflix boosted reach; PS5 port sustained buzz.

Evolving rep: 2022 awards haul—Golden Joystick Best Performer (Gage), GDC Innovation, IGF Narrative Excellence, BAFTA Narrative win. Influences ripple: FMV revival (Bloodshore echoes), narrative indies (Return of the Obra Dinn). Legacy: Redefines interactivity, proving games as “art about artists”; Barlow’s magnum opus inspires player-led cinema hybrids.

Conclusion

Immortality masterfully weaves FMV puzzles, stellar acting (Gage/Mohlin transcendent), and thematic depth into a haunting meditation on creation’s cost. Its innovations—match-cuts, subverse—outshine flaws like repetition, demanding active engagement over passive spectacle. In video game history, it joins Her Story as a paradigm shift, an arthouse pinnacle rivaling Device 6 or Papetura. Verdict: Essential masterpiece—9.5/10. Play blind, headphones on, and surrender to the reels. What happened to Marissa Marcel? She’s in you now.