The particular flavor of existential dread SOMA imparts in the player may not be entirely new, even for casual scifi fans. I was confronted with the idea of being a copy of myself, of being on the losing side of the coin toss as Simon in the game says, as a young teen watching the Stargate SG-1 episode Tin Man where the crew comes back from an advanced but abandoned planet only to realize they've been turned into androids. They're sent back to restore themselves, only to realize they haven't been turned into androids, they've been copied, and ultimately have to watch the flesh and blood originals leave while they stay with the planet's sole inhabitant (also an android) and the unique power source that is the only thing keeping their bodies going.
Then of course there was the horrifying realization of how Star Trek transporters actually work once I started watching that in my early twenties. It would take me a little longer to realize pretty much everything in Stargate had been lifted from Star Trek.
However, what SOMA does to make this its own is combine and conflate a very personal crisis of identity and self with a much larger crisis involving the identity of the entire human race, which has been wiped out by a devastating impact event and only lives on as digital brain scans in a virtual world called the ARK. These two themes build upon each other into a haunting crescendo that will leave you thinking about the game long after the credits roll.
What you will try not to think about is pretty much everything else in the game, which doesn't live up to the brilliant story at best, and actively detracts from it at worst. Let's talk about it.
Visuals
First, the visuals. They're bad. There's just really no charitable way to say it. The game has no unique, strong art direction, instead opting for the generic, "realistic" style most AAA games aim for, but with a fraction of the budget. The result is a plethora of textures that look like they came from the PS2 era, and some very dodgy looking character models. Throughout the game you come across actual humans who have been kept alive by a sort of nano-machine A.I. programmed to keep humanity alive however it can, even if it involves shoving tubes through them and letting them live in agony or as zombies. These human models are so bad they actually took me out of the story, especially when you meet the last intact, living human late in the game. The underwater facility is incredibly bland and plain, looking the same from minute one to the end of the game and completely devoid of any sort of personality. Nothing about being in this environment is enjoyable, and I don't mean that in a, "they nailed an unnerving and uncomfortable place," kind of way. It was just boring, and didn't feel like the team really cared about how their game looked and weren't trying to make any sort of statement on a visual level. I would not be shocked if there was no art director on the team. Nobody's expecting Witcher 3 graphics from an indie game, but that's where strong art direction comes in. Just look at Ashen, or Return of the Obra Dinn. Just have a vision, have style, have confidence. That's all I'm asking. This is, quite frankly, one of the ugliest indie games I've ever played, on both a technical and artistic level. The only time it starts to look decent are in the underwater sections where you're walking on the ocean floor.
Gameplay
Let's get this out of the way. This game didn't need to be a horror game where things chase you, doesn't really benefit from it, and isn't a particularly good one of those kind of games anyway. It very much felt like this part of the game only existed because of the developer's pedigree with horror games. Like, "this is the kind of game we make, we're the Amnesia people, so it has to be a horror game and monsters have to chase you." But the encounters with creatures are fairly sparse, short, easy, and even brute-force-able because you can take multiple hits before dying and resetting from a checkpoint. There's just not a whole lot of tension or craft in the monster/encounter design, and it pales in comparison to the quieter, existential horror of the story, which would have benefited from some room to breathe and contemplate. I would trade these five-ten minute sequences for more Simon introspection any day. I've heard the "safe mode," fixes these complaints but alas I did not choose that option.
The gameplay beyond that is fairly uninspired but also unobtrusive. Enter new area, fetch macguffins to unlock next area, occasionally look at a computer screen and do a basic puzzle of some kind. The one standout is a puzzle in which you have to load a brain scan of one of the crew members to get him to tell you a security code. If you load him into a simulation with nobody else there, or in a place that wasn't where he was originally scanned, he'll realize he's in a computer and have a mental breakdown.
In Conclusion
In a world where video game writing still largely pales in comparison to other media, SOMA's story absolutely deserves praise and recognition as one of the best. Unfortunately, as a person who loves to read and can get my story fix through books, I generally come to games for gameplay over story and find bad gameplay very, very hard to forgive. But not everyone is like me, I realize. Some people don't read books at all, maybe don't even watch much TV, and spend all their free time playing games and try to get whatever needs we humans fill through art filled almost exclusively through video games. My best friend is like that, and for someone like him SOMA is an entirely different experience, I imagine. When you must get a deep, existential scifi story through a video game or not get it at all, the flaws become much, much easier to overlook. And what a story it was.