In pop culture, few figures in literature compare to the influence of Sherlock Holmes. No matter their moniker, mystery games are no stranger to the great detective. Frogwares has been leading the charge when it comes to Sherlock Holmes games; the 13th and the latest entrant, Sherlock Holmes: Chapter One, delves into the early days of Holmes. This new entry into the series succeeds in story, gameplay and presentation, but rarely capitalises on them simultaneously.

This version of Sherlock picks up the story with our titular gentlemen as a young adult. Holmes has arrived upon Cordona, to lay flowers upon the grave of Violet Holmes, Sherlock’s mother, who died during Sherlock’s childhood. Soon this simple act of grief re-opens old wounds. Returning to Stonewood Manor, Sherlock is confronted with difficult questions: Is there an objective truth to be found?

It’s a curious theme to ponder in a mystery game, in both interpretations. Viewed as praise, the theme is a bold choice. Finding the truth is generally the whole point of a mystery game; your judgements add a wrinkle to this. The system suffers when the developers meet it halfway. Some cases have clear answers, and failure frustrates other characters. At times I had a sense that the game is having its cake and eating it too; it wants to berate me for being wrong, after assuring me that there are no wrong answers.

In the canon of Arthur Conan Doyle, details concerning Holmes’ childhood are sparse. Frogwares instead creates origin stories for the Sherlock canon. For example, Sherlock’s violin comes from a case on the island. The “Cordona tales” take the concept further, their sequences are long streams of exploring memories of those places. These are an oddity. In lieu of a mystery per se, the detective vision acts as the lens through which we can “take a walking sim down memory lane”. These are new tales from the developers, as a straight adaptation would be unwise – any fans of the books would know the answers. The stories and even the entire island of Cordona is a Frogwares invention.

Open world games can be a bit overdone, but Cordona succeeds as a densely packed world brimming with character. The districts are themselves marked divisions between the citizens of Cordona. There is a culture clash between the Turkish settlers and the British occupants. With the occupation, the Turkish population was relegated to the eastern island, a district called Old City, which maintains Islamic architecture. The further division follows class lines. Scaladio and Grand Saray have the central position, which is where power and money reside. Fittingly, your allies in the police, the local government and the tabloids, all operate here. Poorer districts, including Old City in the east, surround it. On the western island, the citizens live in poverty in the shadows of a now-defunct silver rush. This shantytown district is aptly named Miner’s End. Up north, a similar state of disrepair hangs over Silverton, a manufacturing district.

All these districts have discrepancies. The culture, the people, the architecture, all carry distinctions if you pay close attention. Generally the different types of people are handled fairly well. It does not shy from the ideologies of the past such as racism (if you consider it “the past” I suppose), rather than sanitising it. There’s also a bit of cross-dressing here too. Not sure if it deserves progressive brownie points here; the revelation is part of deduction, giving it a “ha I unearthed your deception”/clocking kind of vibe.

Oh and never let it be said that this game is not beautiful, the cutscenes, the characters, the places; they’re all gorgeous. I’ve been colloquially referring to this game as “Sherlock Holmes: Oh No He’s Hot” for a reason.

Golden guy

Sherlock Holmes: Chapter One isn’t shy to iterate on old ideas though. I love the approach to portraying Sherlock and his partner Jon. The relationship is unlike other versions I have seen, but I will avoid detail that may spoil things. The result, however, contrasts with the common interpretation these days. The stereotypical Watson and Holmes duo has trended toward hostility. Watson is the “normal one” being angry at Holmes for blowing up something for a scientific experiment.

This pair’s relationship is, by comparison, amicable. This Sherlock, still in his youth, is insecure. His immature morality sees the truth as an absolute good; pursuing it is imperative. This absolutism can cause friction with others, so Jon helps by sanding off the rough edges. Jon will request Sherlock do little tasks, such as giving medical care to bystanders. The interplay feels like two bickering friends; they rib each other, but there is a genuine love there. As the story progresses, the tensions in the narrative marry well with the relationship. The pair meet a gallery of other characters, suspects, victims, witnesses and bystanders alike.

Dr. Know

Before we talk about the mysteries, let’s talk about mystery-solving. Sherlock Holmes mythos focuses on the detective’s mind; Frogwares sculpts gameplay around his perspective. As you walk around Cordona, clicking on items of interest allows a closer examination and evidence collection. They may become items to use on other items to progress, a standard of point and click games, but Sherlock Holmes: Chapter One has nuance. Examination of evidence, and suspects, plays a larger role. New points and persons of interest can be pored over. Nevertheless, the game forgoes a physical inventory for the case file system which functions as a cerebral database.

Social interaction, in part due to pinning, feels weird. If you need to find a building, you may be able to use the archives. Other times, asking around is the only way. I appreciate that NPCs are not mere set dressing. Granted the compromise is each character has a pool of stock response in stock “rich” or “criminal” or “policeman” responses. They boil down to “I will help you”, “I don’t know about that” (if you ask the wrong type) or “I refuse to help you because you are [rich/poor/a criminal etc.]”. Addressing the latter, Sherlock can disguise himself. Switching up outfits, headwear, eyewear and makeup will change up your disguise stats. The stats indicate how favourable you are to Cordona’s demographics: upper class, Cordona local, police officer, solider/sailor, worker, hobo/criminal. I’ll highlight again the race thing, as disguises sometime come with weird accents. Your mileage may vary on whether it’s tasteless; I didn’t love it but doing little disguises and such is somewhat part of the canon. Again, this is a nice system, though it can be less fun over time as you are constantly removing your stylish ensemble.

For the big cases, Sherlock forms theories in the mind palace. Through the investigation, facts appear; alibis are broken, motives emerge, coincidences present themselves. However, to form a theory requires multiple threads tying them together. The Mind Palace serves this purpose. Look at the pile of clues, find two that relate, be it a contradiction, or a common thread. This creates a node on the mind map, which explains the connection. One wrinkle is what I’ll call the “split nodes” where our theme of judgement and truth appears. These nodes offer two interpretations. For example, a suspect’s alibi was an hour spent at the bar away from his wife, the victim, but patrons saw him for only 30 minutes. This leaves two options for those two 30 minute windows, one for the suspect to kill, the other for the third party to murder, while the husband is away. Your judgement (which can be changed), will affect possible suspects to accuse. Furthermore, a final choice typically should police punish a culprit, is left to your discretion. Yet, for there is no tangible consequence; the developers don’t tell you if you are right or wrong.

The main cases themselves are an entertaining little series of confounding murders and a heist. With each case more of the manor opens up, which in turn deepens the overarching mystery. Whilst I like this as a game idea, it feels a little “video gamey”, for want of a better term. It just feels contrived that after the initial case the main storyline constantly starts at the manor, and in time loops back to it. The looping style does feel like a good choice, after all having a smaller space for the emotional turbulence helps its potency. This aside, surely the game could have handled things a little more naturally.

Contrivance to kill

I adore these unique mechanics, which makes the combat all the worse in comparison. AAA mysteries have taught me that combat and mysteries make a clumsy marriage. Fighting feels like an “insert drama here” diversion from the investigation. Sherlock Holmes: Chapter One has not convinced me otherwise. The developers are self-aware at least; a difficulty option lets you skip combat entirely.

The combat portion of gameplay does a lot to bring a unique style, thankfully. Aiming comes with limited bullet-time on a cooldown. It’s a necessity; combat demands high accuracy to shoot off the armour. Unarmoured enemies can be stunned by hitting an environmental object (e.g. a bag of flour) or character item (e.g. a bottle of flammable liquid). Then a QTE is all that’s left to knock out the combatants. It’s playing off the “Sherlock is smart – they can do 4D Chess-fu” trope the great detective has accrued over time. In theory, I appreciate this. In practice, less so.

To make players feel like a badass sharpshooter, it needs to feel hard to pull off. The flipside is that it is easy to screw up. Similarly, we could say that Sherlock Holmes: Chapter One misses the mark. Enemies may have movements and behaviours, like moving their body between my gun and the armour, which can throw things off. You can get a few body shots before the suspect dies. Conversely, shooting off masks and hats is dangerous; headshots are one-hit kills. It can suddenly stop being fun and start being annoying and restrictive. However, the infuriating part is the moralisation of it all.

On her majesty’s secret services

At the risk of sounding egotistical, I do like the positive notes from Jon. However, I’d contend that I enjoy this because it required overcoming something. Jon’s challenges, for example, are simple tasks like finding 3 books or solving a puzzle. It’s a nice touch that rewards a little exploration or following a certain rule. It is one of the elements that make the gameplay a bit fun when separated from the main campaign trail.

It’s worth considering this tension. On the one hand, I enjoy the challenge of these side quests, but I prefer the main quest narrative to go without gameplay friction. The problem is it leads to a game that can have a satisfying narrative and satisfying gameplay but with little intersection.

The result is the main story that feels more like Life is Strange than Cluedo. I just didn’t feel as great a sense of achievement or drama when the final curtain was falling. The focus is more on thinking about the circumstance, giving a judgement and telling a well-paced story. It all leads to the choices, and in time, their consequences. With those priorities in mind, it’s best to avoid taking too large a backswing. It’s telling how the game uses the trope of “mental blocks” to portion out its narrative and sell the rebuilding and clean out the house of your past as a metaphor. Stonewood Manor becomes the place where all cases begin and end, a small, enclosed space instead of a giant island. But it betrays the central tension of Sherlock Holmes: Chapter One. The game is split. In the main quests the story is the star; gameplay along for the ride. In certain pockets the reverse is true. In short, you can expect both a well-presented story and satisfying gameplay challenges, but not at the same time.