A Promising Sci‑Fi Premise from a Storytelling Powerhouse
Aphelion arrives with heavyweight expectations. It is a sci fi action adventure from Don’t Nod, the studio celebrated for Life is Strange and more recently praised for both narrative drama and refined climbing systems in other titles. On paper, Aphelion sounds like an ideal fusion of those strengths: a third person action game following astroscientists Dr. Arianne Moncler and Officer Thomas Cross, who crash‑land on the frozen planet Persephone while scouting for a new home after climate change devastates Earth. Separated by the accident, they must navigate hostile terrain, uncover the fate of earlier expeditions, and fight to reunite. The setup promises intimate character drama wrapped in cosmic mystery, with Uncharted style gameplay punctuating the journey. Yet once you step onto Persephone’s glittering ice, it quickly becomes clear that Aphelion aims for broad accessibility and low friction, often at the cost of tension, nuance, and mechanical bite.

Climbing, Puzzles, and Cinematic Set Pieces That Play It Too Safe
Moment to moment, Aphelion’s core loop is familiar: simple platforming, guided climbing routes, light environmental puzzles, stealth beats, and occasional cinematic sequences. The cadence consciously echoes Uncharted style gameplay, with ledge‑hopping and rope swings linking story scenes. However, the Aphelion climbing mechanics are pared down to a fault. Grips revolve around pressing one button at the right time, or a second to recover from a slip, leaving little room for improvisation or mastery. Jumps feel slow and cumbersome, while the grapple rope lacks the satisfying arc and responsiveness genre fans expect. Stealth encounters, particularly around the sound‑sensitive Nemesis, tend to slow movement without adding much strategic interest. The result is a sci fi action adventure that technically checks all the boxes—climbing, sneaking, light hazards—but rarely creates set pieces that feel daring, surprising, or worthy of the striking vistas they traverse.
When Storytelling Undercuts Its Own Atmosphere
For a studio renowned for character work, Aphelion’s narrative lands squarely in the middle of the road. The broad strokes—a stranded pair whose professional partnership folds into romance, a suspect corporation, and a mysterious planet with secrets—are solid but safe. What hurts most is how the writing is delivered. Both Arianne and Thomas talk constantly, narrating every observation and emotion. Tense sequences, such as Arianne navigating a maze‑like cavern or creeping past the Nemesis, are repeatedly undercut by on‑the‑nose lines like “I feel like a rat in a maze” or whispered reminders to move “nice and slow,” even though the creature is said to hunt by sound. Instead of trusting the player to read the environment, Aphelion explains its own subtext, draining scenes of suspense. Ironically, brief moments where the astronauts record audio logs show a more elegant exposition style the game rarely commits to.
Visual Splendor, Solid Atmosphere, and Fleeting High Points
Despite its frustrations, Aphelion is far from a disaster. Visually, Persephone is frequently superb: jagged ice fields sculpted by alien winds, canyons threaded with thawing rivers, and surreal magnetic currents that streak the air in ethereal blues and reds when you switch helmet modes. One reviewer called its ice‑cracking visuals and audio among the best they had seen, and those details help sell the illusion of a hostile, living world. When chatter dies down and the level design opens up, the game can slip into a meditative rhythm—quiet climbs toward a distant energy source, or lonely walks across glittering plains—that hint at something more distinctive. The mystery surrounding earlier expeditions and corporate motives offers just enough intrigue to keep you moving, and at around six hours, the campaign ends before repetition becomes unbearable, even if environmental variety does noticeably thin toward the finale.
How Aphelion Stacks Up—and Who It’s For
Compared with genre benchmarks like Uncharted and other modern narrative action games, Aphelion feels mechanically and dramatically conservative. Nathan Drake’s adventures thrive on kinetic traversal, reactive animations, and escalating set pieces that make climbs feel risky and exhilarating. By contrast, Aphelion’s heavy, unresponsive controls and simplistic climbing inputs rarely convey danger, turning traversal into box‑ticking rather than problem‑solving. Its story, while competent, lacks the branching choices and sharp character work that once defined Don’t Nod, and its habit of overexplaining blunts any sense of mystery. Yet there is an audience for what Aphelion offers. Players seeking a low‑stress sci fi action adventure—short, visually striking, and mechanically straightforward—may appreciate its gentle pace and accessible design. Those craving tight, high‑stakes combat, traversal depth, or emotionally daring storytelling will likely find this third person action game never quite achieves the escape velocity its premise deserves.
