I felt like Starfield was tailor-made for someone like me. I adored Bethesda's previous single-player RPG, Fallout 4 (perhaps a tad too much), and there's nothing I relish more than immersing myself in a sci-fi universe filled with spaceships, lasers, and intricate political plots. However, after playing Starfield for about a dozen hours, I found myself adrift in space. While navigating my modest spacecraft in pursuit of enigmatic artifacts and galactic outlaws alongside a remarkable crew of companions, the game's opening sequence presented a formidable challenge. Even as the story, side quests, and thrilling boarding missions on enemy vessels began to captivate me, persistent issues kept cropping up, tempering my enthusiasm. It's akin to Starfield's own intricate shipbuilder tool: although you can piece together a collection of top-tier components that technically make the ship function, sometimes it simply isn't the most harmonious combination.
I would expect nothing less from Bethesda: they've meticulously crafted an expansive universe rich in detailed lore, where humanity has ventured beyond Earth and colonized the galaxy, yet remains unacquainted with sentient extraterrestrial life as of the 24th century. This world is brimming with history, chronicling conflicts among its three major factions, encounters with enigmatic space creatures known as terrormorphs, skirmishes with pirates, and a plethora of other tales. While I wouldn't categorize much of it as entirely unique – it draws inspiration from the likes of The Expanse, Firefly, and Starship Troopers, peppered with nods to every sci-fi classic from Aliens to Blade Runner, and naturally, Interstellar. There's even a noticeable touch of Indiana Jones as it embarks on a quest to unearth mysterious artifacts. In fact, it bears a striking resemblance to what Obsidian crafted for 2019's The Outer Worlds. Nevertheless, the universe is so densely packed with narratives waiting around every corner that I found it easy to become engrossed in it – once I grasped the distinctions
Crafting your character involves selecting a background story, complete with a unique set of skills, traits, and a potential of up to three modifiers. The initial choice can be somewhat challenging during your first playthrough, as you're still in the dark about what lies ahead, and there's no option for respecing. However, none of these choices are substantial enough to severely impede your progress. Some, such as having living parents (if not chosen, they remain entirely absent from the narrative) or dealing with a persistent, obsessive fan, seem promising for future experimentation, enhancing the game's replay value.
After the initial stage, where everyone begins at the same mining camp and experiences the same encounter with the enigmatic space magic that triggers a surreal, 2001: A Space Odyssey-inspired vision, Starfield unfolds as a vast game that propels you in a multitude of diverse directions once it entrusts you with your inaugural spacecraft. The game's expansive nature is such that conversing with fellow players who journeyed alongside me often left us feeling bewildered, prompting questions like:
Wait, what do you mean you're not familiar with the Vanguard?
How have you managed to create those weapon enhancements so quickly?
Surprising, you didn't gain access to [REDACTED] until you reached level 20?
What in the world is a Va’Ruun, anyway?
You encountered whom at a bar?
From where did you come across that ship?
If you're not adhering strictly to a single questline and instead pick up missions as they arise (sometimes you receive them by casually passing NPCs engaged in conversation), you can effortlessly find yourself venturing into intricate chains of missions that offer adventures comparable in scope to those found in Skyrim. Even after investing approximately 70 hours, there are major questlines I haven't delved into yet, and some I've only just started. I'm excited to revisit and complete many of these now that I've finished the main storyline.
Even after playing for around 70 hours, there are significant questlines I haven't explored at all.
In typical Bethesda fashion, the main quest doesn't offer much flexibility when it comes to resolving the challenges it presents. Your choices largely revolve around deciding whether you want to act as a virtuous do-gooder, a witty and opportunistic mercenary who expects rewards, or a no-nonsense professional who demands payment upfront for their services. While there are a few decisions that influence who lives and dies, and a final choice regarding your philosophical stance heading into the ultimate showdown, much of the storyline unfolds similarly. Regardless of your choices, your primary objective remains unraveling the mystery of the artifacts alongside your clandestine society of adventurers known as Constellation. I won't delve into specific plot details to avoid spoilers, but I appreciated how it explores significant themes – even those we've encountered in other stories – in its own unique manner. The game offers plenty of well-written discussions about the deeper meanings of it all.
It's in the side quests where you have the opportunity to truly embody your character's moral compass. I stumbled upon a dispute between a ship filled with colonists and an insufferable resort planet, and my choices ranged from peacefully mediating the conflict (involving a clever technobabble puzzle) to discreetly sabotaging the ship and resorting to drastic measures. There's a narrative that draws inspiration from 'The Boys from Brazil,' along with a slew of associated quests involving the pursuit of war criminals and forbidden technology, all of which present moral dilemmas to grapple with. You can align yourself with the Crimson Fleet pirates, immersing in a life of smuggling and interstellar misdeeds, or adopt the role of a renowned pirate hunter.
There's certainly no shortage of intriguing companion characters to accompany you on your journey. I never felt that my Constellation teammates were a waste of time when they sought a conversation; they always had captivating stories about their backgrounds or quests they needed assistance with. While Sarah, the virtuous leader of Constellation, and Sam, a former lawman with a young daughter, are prominently featured, I found great satisfaction in bringing the slightly more eccentric scientist Barrett along on some missions. I suspect the other companions also have delightful surprises to offer, including those you hire from bars when more conventional allies like Sam are unavailable due to your mischievous exploits. However, you can only bring one companion at a time, leaving plenty of exploration ahead of me.
The issues with Starfield are glaring.
It's worth noting that Bethesda has significantly improved its facial animation in Starfield. While it may not reach the same level of precision and realism as motion-captured performances seen in titles like The Last of Us and God of War, it stands on par with other expansive RPGs where you engage with numerous NPCs during extensive playtime, such as Baldur's Gate 3. Character models generally convey enough expressiveness to complement the outstanding voice acting performances.
Starfield undeniably has its issues, and some of them differ significantly from what we've seen in Bethesda's previous titles. I must admit that the initial hours of the game can be quite challenging, and there was a point where I questioned if things would ever improve. In this review, I'll address this initial rough patch, but please bear with me—much like Starfield itself, it does show improvement as you progress further.
The most significant paradox in Starfield's design becomes evident when you consider that it offers a vast galaxy to explore, teeming with hundreds of planets, yet it often feels surprisingly small due to the brief loading screens that separate these celestial bodies. Initially, I was captivated by the process: entering my ship, strapping in, and witnessing the exhilarating launch into orbit. I'd then navigate through the stars, select a planet, and execute a grav-jump to my chosen destination. The landing was always a spectacle. However, I soon realized that, in many cases, I could skip most of this procedure by simply opening the map and fast-traveling to another planet without ever stepping onto my ship. In essence, while you can traverse the vast landscapes of Elder Scrolls or Fallout without fast-travel, in Starfield, fast-travel is practically a necessity to move around.
In Starfield, fast-travel is indispensable for getting around.
A mission might direct you to the far reaches of the extensive starmap, yet the actual travel time between systems remains constant, and the fuel system, poorly explained as it is (essentially serving as your range), imposes little limitation. Upon realizing that a significant portion of spaceflight comprises non-interactive cutscenes, the illusion of venturing through an expansive universe is substantially shattered. Inevitably, comparisons arise with the unrestricted entry and exit of planets' atmospheres in No Man's Sky, leaving a sense of disappointment each time you gaze upon a planet, only to remember that it's merely a static image, forever out of reach as you attempt to approach it. This occurrence repeats quite frequently.
Another persistent annoyance, no matter where I ventured within the Settled Systems, was the complete absence of maps, be they mini or otherwise, to aid me while on foot. Instead, all I had at my disposal was an overly simplistic display that highlighted major points of interest, such as abandoned research and mining outposts ripe for raiding, as well as extensive stretches of alien terrain and wilderness that lay in between. While navigating cityscapes, there were no guiding aids beyond shop signs and text-based directories, which informed me about store locations by district but left me clueless as to their actual whereabouts.
Another persistent frustration that persisted regardless of my location within the Settled Systems was the complete absence of maps, whether in miniature form or otherwise, to consult while on foot. Instead, the only resource available was an excessively simplistic display, offering minimal detail and merely highlighting major points of interest. This included abandoned research and mining outposts where raiders and robots eagerly awaited my arrival, eager to be shot down and looted. Beyond these markers, the display showcased vast expanses of alien wasteland and wilderness that separated them.
When navigating within a city, I found myself entirely reliant on shop signs and text-based directories. While these directories informed me about store locations by district, they provided no guidance on their actual whereabouts within the district.
My guess is that this choice was made to address the fast-travel problem.
I speculate that Bethesda intentionally made this choice to address the issue of excessive fast travel, where players zip through the universe without pausing to appreciate the meticulous craftsmanship and creativity that went into crafting remarkably diverse cities like the gleaming capital of New Atlantis, the rugged frontier settlement of Akila, and the gritty cyberpunk metropolis of Neon, to name a few. These locales are undeniably captivating to behold.
However, the reality is that this approach doesn't align with contemporary real-world navigation methods, especially since the introduction of the iPhone in 2007. Consequently, it's frustrating to find oneself in the year 2330 without access to comparable navigation tools. I found myself expending an inordinate amount of time wandering aimlessly, desperately searching for basic necessities such as vendors to sell my loot, all the while attempting to commit multiple settlement layouts to memory. It was particularly vexing to realize that, if I were playing after the game's launch, I could have effortlessly consulted IGN's guides for their precise locations. The compromise in immersion simply doesn't seem justified.
The third persistent frustration, thankfully, appears to be a problem that can be rectified without requiring a major overhaul. Much like Bethesda's previous RPGs, Starfield dedicates a significant portion of gameplay to inventory management—approximately 30% of it, in fact. However, it's alarmingly deficient in this regard. To prevent overloading, you'll frequently find yourself transferring weapons, space suits, materials, and strange alien substances between your inventory, your companion's possessions, or your ship's cargo hold. Yet, infuriatingly, you cannot simultaneously view the contents and capacities of both the giving and receiving containers. Instead, you're essentially blindfolded, mindlessly transferring items from one location until you receive a message indicating the other is full. All the while, a considerable portion of the screen is wasted on an overly large image of an item. This represents a peculiar and exasperating regression from the inventory system in Fallout 4, and it's precisely the kind of issue that I anticipate modders will address within a week of the game's launch.
Those problems never improved during my playthrough – I simply adapted to them. The hurdle I did overcome, however, is that Starfield simply doesn’t provide enough information about how its vast array of systems operates, and it introduces the exciting elements too gradually. Right from the beginning, you can't modify your equipment, can't use your spacesuit's boost pack (which is incredibly useful and enjoyable, particularly in low gravity, and I can't fathom not having it for an entire playthrough), and you can barely employ stealth or board enemy ships. To unlock these features, you must invest skill points, and you only receive one per level.
Yet, right from the beginning, you can construct outposts similar to Fallout 4's settlements and have them extract resources for you. However, Starfield fails to communicate that you probably shouldn't bother with this for quite some time. In the early stages, you don't require large quantities of a single resource, so it's mostly a time-wasting endeavor until you've progressed further up the crafting skill trees.
In the early stages, mass-producing items isn't advisable because the storage capacity on the first-tier ships is frustratingly inadequate considering the amount of loot you accumulate (and there's an overwhelming number of minerals and materials that you might regret not bringing along later). I found myself resorting to absurd workarounds, like haphazardly stashing items on the floor of my ship like a space hoarder, strangely not affecting my storage space quota.
It's important to mention that the worlds you traverse, while visually distinct with different gravity levels, often feel somewhat desolate and devoid of life. This is expected, as these planets are primarily uninhabited and untouched by intelligent beings. However, this can make exploration less engaging. Apart from a few isolated outposts, the activities largely involve scanning rocks, zapping them with a mining laser, or occasionally scanning and potentially encountering alien wildlife. This contrasts significantly with Bethesda's previous games, where you typically stumbled upon something captivating at every turn.
You might anticipate this given that these planets are largely uninhabitable, but it doesn't necessarily make exploration more enjoyable.
In the main quest, there's a rather repetitive segment where you're tasked with investigating a series of ancient structures. It becomes somewhat frustrating because the activities inside each one are identical. While the rewards are varied and enticing enough to motivate me to explore them all, after the initial few, I couldn't help but yearn for Bethesda's designers to draw inspiration from Breath of the Wild, creating unique puzzles for each structure.
It took about a dozen hours or so of gameplay before I unlocked enough upgrades for things to really start coming together. Starfield is undeniably one of those games that requires a significant time investment before it hits its stride. However, the fact that it eventually captivated me made me jettison all the 'More like Starfailed!' jokes I'd been crafting and instead focus on the aspects where this sci-fi epic shines – or at least, where it manages to perform adequately
Speaking of what Starfield 'does well enough,' let's talk about combat. In this game, combat tends to be the default solution to most problems, unless you're committed to diplomacy or stealth in your encounters with hostile pirates, robots, wildlife, and any other unfriendly entities you might come across. It's not terrible, and I've found myself engaging in battles with my well-equipped laser rifles and shotguns, but it's not particularly outstanding either. Unlike Fallout's unique VATS system, Starfield's gunplay lacks that memorable punch. Even as you unlock some late-game abilities, it remains relatively straightforward.
Without any compelling replacement for Fallout's VATS system, gunplay ends up feeling rather forgettable.
To their credit, adversaries exhibit rather entertaining reactions when you target their heads, legs, or arms. There are moments when they even attempt to flee after witnessing their comrades fall. While it's not the first time I've witnessed a soldier's panic just before their jetpack explodes, it's a sensation that never truly loses its appeal. Nevertheless, on the whole, these foes seem as though they could have been plucked from titles like Far Cry or Borderlands, or any of the myriad RPG/shooter blends out there. My disappointment grew notably when confronting the more formidable adversaries in the latter stages of the narrative; frequently, they would simply stand and shoot at me while I relentlessly unleashed my shotgun upon their visages, causing them to stumble or become incapacitated, resulting in what should have been epic battles that fizzled out almost as swiftly as they began.
Combat remains engaging thanks to the intriguing loot system. The modifiers found on epic and legendary weapons and gear introduce exciting dynamics. For example, I stumbled upon a rifle weighing a mere 0.14 kilograms, a stark contrast to the usual three or four. Additionally, I acquired one that inflicts greater damage as my health diminishes and increases the likelihood of enemies dropping med packs.
Moreover, I came across a spacesuit with unique attributes. It boasts a 10% chance of setting nearby attackers ablaze and grants invisibility while crouched and stationary. There are also weapons tailored for space combat, dealing more damage in zero gravity while being less effective on solid ground. Some boostpacks offer the advantage of significantly reduced oxygen (stamina) consumption. These modifiers are bold enough to be considered game-changers, potentially influencing how you shape your character's abilities and playstyle.
On the flip side of combat, we have the exhilarating ship-to-ship battles, which, in the realm of space dogfighting games, lean toward simplicity. Nevertheless, there's a certain thrill in unleashing a barrage of fire at pirates (or embracing the life of one) and witnessing the ensuing explosions that rip enemy vessels asunder.
There's a basic power management aspect where you can allocate energy among your weapon systems, engines, and shields. However, during combat, I seldom found the need to tinker with these settings because most of the ships I either purchased or stumbled upon boasted ample power reserves unless I was activating my grav drive (which, in a fight, generally serves little purpose until you decide to make a daring escape). Unlike the classic X-Wing games, there's no need to adjust shield facings, making the combat experience predominantly light and arcade-like. It is somewhat disappointing, though, that the in-cockpit displays remain non-functional, leaving you to rely solely on directional indicators at the edges of your screen as your radar.
Some of the most memorable moments in my Starfield playthrough occurred during these raids.
The closest approximation to VATS in Starfield is found in space combat. When you invest a skill point in target locking, it triggers a zoomed-in view that allows you to select one of the enemy's systems to barrage with lasers, ballistic guns, and missiles. (It's somewhat surprising that this skill isn't unlocked by default.) Disabling an enemy ship's weapons proves to be a strategic move, particularly when you find yourself outnumbered by three or four pirates and lack the time to fully dismantle one ship. However, an even more exhilarating aspect is that crippling their engines renders them susceptible to boarding.
Some of the most exhilarating moments in my Starfield playthrough unfolded during these raids. I methodically cleared out enemies room by room, sometimes contending with erratic gravity and drifting corpses reminiscent of Star Trek VI. My journey continued until I reached the bridge, where I eliminated the captain and commandeered their ship, along with its valuable cargo. During my initial "good guy" playthrough, I resisted the temptation of lucrative smuggling and piracy. Nonetheless, I can clearly see the allure of such a playstyle, potentially outweighing the bounties you'd incur and the companions you'd alienate.
Another standout feature of Starfield is the astounding array of spaceships traversing the Settled Systems. Their modular and customizable nature left me yearning for more proficiency in starship design, enabling me to dive deeper into the somewhat intricate mechanics of assembling the components into a functional spacecraft. Witnessing your ship resting on the landing pad is a truly gratifying experience, allowing you to grasp its sheer scale before taking the helm.
Regrettably, there is no option to respec your skills, and by the time I comprehended the substantial investment required to unlock shipbuilding capabilities fully, it was too late for me in this playthrough.
Despite my reservations about the initial stinginess of the skill system, it does merit recognition for its ingenious fusion of traditional RPG skill progression with The Elder Scrolls' method of ski
improvement through practice. Each time you level up a skill, you unlock a challenge. These challenges can range from the straightforward task of eliminating a certain number of enemies with laser weapons to more situational objectives like using your boost pack a specific number of times during combat. Completing these challenges is a prerequisite before you can invest another point to further enhance the skill.
This system introduces a tangible sense of progression that emerges between levels and enhances the immersive roleplaying experience. It truly conveys the idea that my character has diligently honed their skills rather than achieving instant mastery through magic or other means.
Lastly, I must give a special nod to the lockpicking minigame, a straightforward yet immensely satisfying challenge that prompts you to envision how various components interlock to occupy the available spaces. This might just be the finest unlocking minigame I've encountered in an RPG. I invested more skill points into it than strictly necessary, purely to gain access to more formidable locks. It's truly refreshing to encounter a minigame like this that feels rewarding to engage with, rather than being a tiresome chore to endure in order to earn a reward
Are there bugs? Certainly. Playing primarily on PC (equipped with an RTX 3080 on high settings), I've encountered a noticeable amount of model and texture pop-in, occasional crashes, performance hiccups (mainly during autosaving), erratic waypoints, clipping issues, and occasional camera angle quirks during conversations. Nevertheless, it's worth noting that, considering the scale of this expansive RPG, it has maintained a relatively stable performance. I never encountered a quest that I couldn't complete, for instance. It's important to acknowledge that results can vary, given the inherent complexity of a game like this.
On Xbox, our team has observed a few drops in the Series X's 30fps target, although nothing severely disruptive. A couple of individuals experienced corrupted save files, but the presence of multiple autosaves prevented this from becoming a catastrophic issue.
The Conclusion
It's not the most promising sign when a game's recommendation hinges on the fact that it improves significantly after a dozen hours, but that's precisely the type of experience Starfield offers, and I genuinely recommend it. Despite facing numerous challenges such as disjointed space travel, the absence of maps, frustrating inventory management, and a slow progression of vital abilities, it managed to redeem itself. The sheer delight of navigating a personally customized spaceship through a diverse array of morally complex scenarios in a rich sci-fi universe ultimately saved the day.
I'm grateful that I persevered through the initial hours because the interstellar mystery storyline delivers a satisfying payoff. As the adventure gained momentum, both on-foot and space combat improved progressively, compelling me to venture into New Game+ even after completing the main story in roughly 60 hours. Much like Skyrim and Fallout 4 before it, Starfield offers a wealth of high-quality roleplaying quests and intriguing NPCs to discover, making the quest for these hidden gems an irresistible one.