Infernal

In Infernal, players control Ryan Lennox, a technically deceased operative who once served the heavenly organization EtherLight but is fired for his ruthless tactics and targeted for assassination. Surviving the attempt, he joins forces with Lazarus, the demonic leader of the Abyss—EtherLight’s mortal enemy—to thwart their final assault. Guided by the enigmatic Black, Lennox wields dark powers like teleportation, telekinesis, and enhanced weaponry, fueled by shadows or sinful acts, while navigating a gritty, modern world where holy sites drain his mana, forcing reliance on conventional arms and soul-sucking enemy remains for resources.

Infernal: Review

Introduction

In the shadowed corridors of early 2000s gaming, where angels and demons clashed not in biblical epics but in bullet-riddled corporate boardrooms, Infernal emerges as a gritty curiosity—a third-person shooter that dares to reimagine the eternal struggle between heaven and hell as a tale of betrayal and unholy alliances. Released in 2007 by Polish studio Metropolis Software, this game casts players as Ryan Lennox, a fallen heavenly operative turned demonic enforcer, navigating a world where divine and infernal forces operate like rival PMCs vying for human souls. Its legacy is one of unfulfilled potential: a visually striking artifact of mid-aughts ambition that flickered briefly amid giants like Gears of War and Resident Evil 4, only to fade into obscurity. Yet, for all its flaws, Infernal captivates as a B-movie fever dream of supernatural action, blending pulpy noir with shooter tropes. My thesis: While Infernal innovates thematically by humanizing the good-vs-evil dichotomy, its clunky mechanics and repetitive execution trap it in purgatory—entertaining in bursts but ultimately too dated to elevate beyond cult curiosity.

Development History & Context

Metropolis Software, a Warsaw-based studio founded in 1992, entered the fray of international gaming with modest roots in Eastern European development. Known for earlier titles like the survival horror Archangel (2003), Metropolis specialized in atmospheric, narrative-driven experiences on constrained budgets. For Infernal, the studio’s vision crystallized around a bold fusion: a third-person shooter infused with supernatural lore, drawing from Catholic mythology while grounding it in modern, cyberpunk aesthetics. Lead designer Grzegorz Miechowski and project leads Bartosz Brzostek and Przemysław Marszał aimed to subvert traditional angel-demon binaries, portraying both heavenly EtherLight and hellish Abyss as morally ambiguous corporations exploiting a rare celestial eclipse to tip the balance of power.

Technological constraints of the era loomed large. Built on an enhanced version of the engine from Archangel (a modified Gorky 02 engine), Infernal leveraged NVIDIA’s PhysX for dynamic physics effects like ragdoll animations and destructible environments—innovative for 2007 but demanding on hardware. The game supported Ageia PhysX cards, a now-obsolete tech that added immersive haptics via amBX peripherals, reflecting Metropolis’s push for sensory depth amid limited resources. Development spanned roughly two years, with a team of about 100, including key contributors like level designer Michał Drozdowski and storyboard artist Jurjen Kraan. Polish efficiency shone through in polished visuals, but budget limitations manifested in reused assets and unrefined AI.

The 2007 gaming landscape was a shooter’s paradise, dominated by cover-based revolutionaries like Gears of War (Xbox 360, 2006) and survival-horror hybrids like Resident Evil 4 (PC port, 2007). Third-person shooters emphasized tactical depth and cinematic flair, while supernatural themes echoed in titles like Devil May Cry. Infernal arrived as an underdog: published by Playlogic International (with Eidos handling international distribution), it targeted PC gamers hungry for edgier fare post-Half-Life 2. Regional differences, like the censored German version prohibiting shots at civilians or animals, underscored cultural hurdles. A 2009 Xbox 360 port, Infernal: Hell’s Vengeance, attempted to capitalize on console momentum but launched into a saturated market, highlighting the game’s struggle against its own anachronistic design.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

At its core, Infernal‘s plot is a deliciously irreverent riff on free will and moral ambiguity, unfolding across five linear missions that escalate from monastic intrigue to orbital showdowns. Ryan Lennox, voiced with gravelly sarcasm evoking a young Jason Statham, begins as a jaded EtherLight agent—technically “dead” yet bound to Earth in service to heavenly enforcers. His firing stems from “unheavenly methods,” a euphemism for his snarky insubordination, leading to a botched assassination that forces him into the Abyss’s employ. Guided by the dreadlocked Lucius Black (a Scary Black Man archetype blending Baron Samedi flair with corporate menace), Lennox uncovers EtherLight’s nefarious plan: during a millennial eclipse obscuring God’s gaze, General Carlos Guisez aims to deploy Professor Wolf’s mind-control device, broadcasting subliminal signals via global media to enforce utopian obedience and eradicate free will’s “design flaw.”

Characters drive this thematic engine. Lennox is the quintessential Deadpan Snarker antihero—tattooed, quippy, and unapologetically buff—whose flirty banter with EtherLight’s acrobatic Major Elena Zubrov (Combat Stilettos and all) adds pulp romance without depth. Zubrov embodies conflicted loyalty, her Guns Akimbo rocket barrages contrasting her Custom Uniform of Sexy. Ally Lt. Barbara Mitchell, with her Mystical White Hair signaling angelic heritage, wrestles Conflicting Loyalty as a Double Agent, ultimately siding with Lennox in a nod to redemption arcs. Antagonists shine brighter: Guisez, a Well-Intentioned Extremist, seeks enforced goodness via The Evils of Free Will, transforming into a One-Winged Angel for the finale. Wolf, an Insufferable Genius in a Cool Chair mini-mecha, mass-produces Mook Makers from mind-controlled thralls. Black, the Big Red Devil boss, reveals his Take Over the World ambitions, forcing Lennox into Black-and-Gray Morality.

Dialogue crackles with B-movie charm—Lennox’s “They call me MISTER Tibbs!” jabs at Wolf elicit laughs—but often devolves into repetitive tough-guy posturing (“Keep your positions!”) that undercuts emotional weight. Themes probe deeper: Light Is Not Good (EtherLight’s white-clad zealots are genocidal), Addictive Magic (Lennox’s demonic powers corrupt subtly, per Barbara’s warnings), and Balance Between Good and Evil (Lennox’s third-option destruction of the device preserves humanity’s chaos). Cutscenes, with jerky lip-sync and exaggerated motion capture, evoke straight-to-DVD schlock, yet the narrative’s Total Eclipse of the Plot twist—exploiting divine blind spots—lends philosophical bite. Pacing falters in the middle acts, with spoilers like the manual revealing the machine’s purpose early, but the arc’s journey from pawn to balancer resonates as a cautionary tale on power’s corrupting allure.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

Infernal‘s core loop revolves around aggressive, room-to-room combat punctuated by light puzzling, but its execution feels like an old-school shooter trapped in modern ambitions. Players control Lennox in third-person, blending Behind View shooting with Direct Control movement. The campaign spans 6-8 hours across five missions (monastery, refinery, steelworks, carrier, satellite center), emphasizing linear progression without secrets or branching paths—play once, and you’ve seen it all.

Combat deconstructs into a mana-fueled frenzy: Standard weapons (pistols, machine guns, rocket launchers) pair with demonic powers like pyrokinesis (Infernal Shots for shield-piercing), teleportation (Two-Keyed Lock puzzles or flanking), telekinesis (Mind over Matter object manipulation), and thermal vision (Infernal Sight for hidden paths). Mana regenerates in shadows or via sins (killing foes), but drains in holy auras—Kill the Lights mechanics force environmental adaptation, like negating an angelic boss’s Mana Burn. Health and ammo come from soul-draining corpses, a Heal Thyself ritual that’s original but pacing-killing; it exposes Lennox vulnerably for seconds, turning battles into tedious cleanup. Enemies vary—jetpack mooks, shielded commanders, Flunky Boss minions—but AI is rudimentary: they charge predictably, spout clichés, and rarely flank, making cover (a rudimentary lean mechanic) feel ridiculous and optional.

Progression is Bag of Spilling linear: No persistent upgrades; powers unlock narratively, with three difficulty levels tweaking regen rates (Numerical Hard reduces mid-fight drains). Bosses innovate as Puzzle Bosses—e.g., teleporting behind Wolf’s weak point or dueling Guisez via log-firing machines—but suffer from arbitrary solutions and Shielded Core Boss repetition. UI is clean yet flawed: Offset crosshairs aid visibility but induce Damn You, Muscle Memory misses; no manual aiming button wastes ammo on close foes, and grenade throws lag frustratingly. Puzzles integrate seamlessly (telekinesis stacks for platforms) but lack creativity beyond Laser Hallway intros. Save system is archaic—no autosave or checkpoints, just manual slots—exacerbating deaths from Super Drowning Skills or No-Gear Levels like the HMS Liberty escape. Innovations like PhysX ragdolls add flair, but flaws (repetitive loops, Unnecessary Combat Rolls, no multiplayer) render it a competent yet clunky relic, evoking Max Payne‘s bullet-time without the revolution.

World-Building, Art & Sound

Infernal‘s setting masterfully weaves supernatural lore into gritty, industrial realism, creating an atmosphere of infernal noir where divine wars rage in profane locales. Earth serves as a battleground for EtherLight’s Church Militant monasteries (Hochtempelberg: gothic spires fused with high-tech armories) and the Abyss’s shadowy underbelly, escalating to No OSHA Compliance refineries, Rail Shooter train yards, and Jetpack-patrolled carriers. The narrative’s Balance Between Good and Evil manifests spatially: Holy sites drain mana via angelic auras, while demonic flames enable Boss Arena Recovery. Levels evoke a Total Eclipse of the Plot’s urgency—e.g., meteors breaching satellite centers—blending cyberpunk PMCs with biblical stakes, though linearity (tight paths, minimal interaction) limits immersion.

Art direction dazzles for 2007: Glossy visuals showcase Soft Bloom lighting and subtle effects, with blocky models softened by dynamic shadows. Environments pop—fiery refinery explosions, metallic steelworks—enhanced by PhysX debris and amBX haptics for tactile chaos. Character designs lean trope-heavy: Lennox’s tattooed grit, Zubrov’s blue catsuit, Black’s dreadlocked elegance. Yet, jerky animations and mismatched lip-sync betray budget limits, making cutscenes feel like interactive demos.

Sound design amplifies the hellish vibe: A rock soundtrack swells with a single, repetitive riff during fights—effective for tension but grating after minutes—while ambient tracks (eerie monastery chants, industrial clangs) build dread. Voice acting is campy gold: Lennox’s snark (“Playing with fire?”) lands punchy, Black’s gravelly baritone chills, but repetitive lines (“Keep your positions!”) and hammy delivery (Guisez’s zealotry) veer into parody. SFX impress—soul-draining slurps, teleport whooshes, weapon blasts—with 3D audio enhancing spatial awareness. Overall, these elements forge a moody, B-movie atmosphere that elevates fleeting thrills, though repetition dulls the infernal symphony.

Reception & Legacy

Upon its February 2007 PC launch, Infernal garnered mixed reception, earning a Metacritic 61/100 from 34 critics—praised for visuals and premise but lambasted for dated mechanics. European outlets like Pelit (88/100) hailed its “brisk action” and Polish pride, while PC Games (Germany) lauded the “breathtaking story” of heaven-hell intrigue. Stateside, IGN (5.1/10) called it a “lacking sophistication” shooter, and GameSpot (5.9/10) decried its “dull, repetitive gameplay.” Players averaged 6.8/10 on MobyGames, appreciating “mindless fun” (healing via souls) but decrying clunky controls and no autosave. Commercially, it sold over 100,000 PC units by 2008—a modest win for Playlogic—but struggled against blockbusters.

The 2009 Xbox 360 port, Infernal: Hell’s Vengeance, fared worse (Metacritic 35/100), with critics like GameSpot (3.5/10) slamming imprecise controls, stuttering frame rates, and archaic saves as “irritating” relics. Famitsu scored it 24-25/40, noting potential in its “fast-paced action” but faulting conversion laziness. Player scores dipped to 4.6/10, with complaints of blocky models and forgettable story evoking “PlayStation 2 leftovers.” Regional censorship (e.g., German no-civilian shooting) irked purists.

Legacy-wise, Infernal lingers as a footnote: No sequels, minimal influence, though its PMC-framed theology echoes in The Darkness (2007) or Control (2019). Metropolis shifted to mobile ports, while Playlogic faded. Reputation evolved from “surprise gem” (early Polish hype) to “purgatory purgatory” (TV Tropes’ apt label)—a competent AA title for bargain bins, rediscovered on Steam/Abandonware for its cheese. It subtly advanced Polish gaming’s global push but remains eclipsed, a hellish what-if in shooters’ evolution toward fluidity.

Conclusion

Infernal weaves a tapestry of fallen angels, soul-sucking shootouts, and moral grayness that’s as intriguing as it is uneven—its thematic depth and glossy art promising more than its clunky loops and repetition deliver. From Metropolis’s visionary hell-heaven corporate war to its PhysX-fueled chaos, the game captures 2007’s experimental spirit, yet succumbs to era-bound flaws like dated AI and pacing woes. Reception underscored this divide: flashes of brilliance amid mediocrity, with the Xbox port sealing its obscurity.

In video game history, Infernal claims a niche as a bold, forgotten experiment—a purgatorial shooter that entertains as campy diversion but lacks the polish for pantheon status. For retro enthusiasts craving supernatural grit, it’s worth a hellish dive at budget prices (often $2-5 used); others, seek Gears for tactical glory. Verdict: 6.5/10—a sinful curiosity, damned by design but redeemed by ambition.