A compact experience even by Itch.io standards, Iron Lung relies on the design philosophy of tell don’t show. I don’t say that entirely facetiously, as that’s a perfectly acceptable way of worldbuilding and tension sustaining, so long as it hooks you with something too keep you entertained. Oftentimes the anticipation or imminent proximity to danger can be just as fulfilling as outright terror.

In Iron Lung you’re a wayward convict forcefully tasked with exploring a world overwhelmed by a ceaseless ocean of blood. The reason being that after every habitable planet suddenly and mysteriously disappeared, you and the rest of surviving humanity must search new solar systems in pursuit of food, shelter, and other valuables. What makes the premise particularly harrowing is the fact that your method of exploration lies solely in the eponymous Iron Lung, the name of the tiny, rickshaw submarine that you commandeer for the duration of the game. It’s about the length of a car and fitted with just three accoutrements. A console terminal, which can be used to find out more about the world, a simple coordinate-based navigation center, and a photo display that acts as the sole source of visual information outside the submarine.

It’s a brief adventure, requiring you to navigate to a list of coordinates using a reference map and take pictures of whatever is at them. Be it a plant, animal remains, or something more sinister. Since you don’t have consistent visuals on account of the depth of the ocean you’re in requiring the viewport to be welded shut, you have to use a motion sensor to let you know when you’re too close to an obstruction or debris. It’s almost impossible to die to it, it just makes it less straightforward than going directly from A to B. Even still, on it’s own the gameplay is quite one-dimensional. Thank goodness Iron Lung knows not to overstay it’s playtime. I guarantee that without the interesting premise tied to it this game wouldn’t be nearly as popular. No, this game is more focused on the slow build of anticipation as your observation pictures become more and more concerning. An objective greatly helped by the aid of a superb sound design. The leaky, bass-heavy hums and moans of the ocean is great on a good audio system.

While I’m aware that you’re suppose to rely on the sensors and whatnot, I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed you can’t use the camera system to more broadly explore the ocean. You can technically take pictures at any time, except when outside scripted sections they’ll just come out as indistinct photos every time. I know what I’m proposing would put the onus on the player, but imagine how much more impactful it would be for the scariest, most disturbing image to come from the player’s own curiosity.

Oppositely, the console terminal felt like a great organic source of worldbuilding. They didn’t make the mistake some games do where they have 100 different logs from 30 different people meticulously talking about how they hate the cereal they eat every morning and other nonsense I don’t care about. It’s very straight and to the point while sparking a genuine interest in the world. The only problem is that Markiplier movie notwithstanding, I’m not sure where else you can take the property that wouldn’t eliminate the nebulous horror it thrives on. I wouldn’t be against them trying, it’s just a precarious situation. One that those familiar with cosmic horror know all to well.

It’s a low investment venture where you get what you pay for. If you enjoy austere games where the emphasis is on the unknown rather than the observable, if you think the premise sounds fascinating, or if you just fancy cozy itch.io titles then this will be right up your alley. The ending is kind of anticlimactic, yet it did little to detract from the experience as a whole. My advice before you play is to not overhype it. Many people, myself included, make the mistake of seeing a game like Iron Lung skyrocket up in the pop-culture zeitgeist and then build too-high expectations from it. Meet the game where it is and you’ll have a decent time.

There is the germ of something really special here. The core of the game—infiltrating and stealing from increasingly well-guarded houses with roguelike progression giving you more tools and protections—is great, and at every step of the game I was expecting it to unfold into something really fun. But it's held back by a mountain of minor issues that all add up to make it really frustrating to put your all into.

Most of these are things that could be fixed with a few more rounds of in-depth playtesting. Why does the attack animation not match its hitbox when understanding its hitbox is crucial for safely engaging with enemies? Why can the starting level have loot you're guaranteed to be unable to access when getting all the loot on the first level gives you a bonus worth 4x the loot itself? Why does it go into slow motion every so often without rhyme or reason?

There is a class of media that hits a particular point on the quality spectrum where it fails to live up to its ambition, but the path to that ambition is so clear that it practically dares you to imagine a better version. The Swindle is in that class. I hope one day someone is inspired by it to make something that lives up to everything it could be.

A really good idea worn down by poor execution. When it works, it works, but that is not the wavelength it's operating at most of the time.

-First of all, wow, this is a game that needed a Valve-style clipping pass. This game already takes every available opportunity to kill your momentum so having small objects that block your movement really does not help. I unofficially threw in the towel when Faith decided to clip between a barrel and a railing and was stuck there until I reset the game.
-The level design is not as great as everyone makes it out to be. I cannot think of a more dumber way to lay out your levels after making a movement system that greatly punishes moving your camera sharply than a game comprised largely of sharp turns and areas where you need to use the 180 button to find the next ledge.
-This would be forgivable if it wasn't for the fact the game also wants to put you under pressure and send the armed police after you. The moments where you have minimal resistance and can just make your own route are fantastic; you don't need to make this a shooter or even to have enemies tbh. Just trying to avoid hearing that scary "falling to your death" sound is good motivator to not screw up.
-The shooting is bad!
-Looking around whilst grabbing onto ledges is too slow. climbing up ladders is too slow. climbing pipes is too slow. the slide is too slow. crawling through vents is too slow. Turning that valve is too slow. I'm getting shot at, move your ass!
-A lot of the movement feels scripted and you have less room to play about with the levels than you think. If Faith cannot complete a vertical wall run by grabbing onto a ledge, there's a good chance the animation won't even play at all. Railings will either be a springboard or it won't. They built a free-running game where level entities limit what you can do. Lame!
-Mirrors Edge deserves all the praise it gets for its visuals; good high frequency texture detail and an innovative approach to baked lighting have helped this game age better than almost everything else that came out the same year. However, I would actually avoid playing the game on an OLED display if you can. Even on the lowest brightness and contrast settings this game's bloom and exposure create a legitimately painful experience.
-Soundtracks nice :)

Overall a very disappointing return to a game I last tried when I was like 16.

I can understand why others have loved this game, but it just fell flat for me. Halfway through I had solved any problems of resources, so there was no pressure any more driving me. The writing lacks a dynamic to keep it interesting line by line that games like Disco Elysium have. The dice mechanics are interesting but lose meaning after I have all the resources I could ever need.
Narrative: 3.0
Gameplay: 2.0
Writing: 2.0
X-Factor: 2.5
Overall: 2.5