I should have known this tomb would be cursed. The crumbling walls seem to be closing in on me as I head deeper into the burial chamber, each echoing footstep feeling all the more ominous. It's the first moment of supernaturality I've experienced in Indiana Jones and the Great Circle – not to mention the most dread-inspiring. I thought simply getting through the Vatican as a vaguely suspicious priest was stressful enough. I was very wrong.
As strangled whispers carry on the wind – why is there wind down here? – I stop dead in my tracks. I've robbed a far few tombs already in the brief time I've been exploring the Egyptian city of Gizeh, and as another groan emanates from the darkness, I think back on all that Brendan Fraser taught me in The Mummy and promptly wish I could make Indy kick himself. So begins one of the most unexpected survival horror levels I've ever experienced in a first-person action game – even if I accidentally dragged it out a bit too long.
Ancient blood, new mutiny
Indiana Jones and the Great Circle review: "The best adventure Indy has embarked on in over 30 years"
It's dark. Too dark. As I fumble with my lighter, a metallic crunch underfoot alerts me to the fact that part of this cavernous chamber is carpeted with small, shiny coins. Gold ones, I note, as I crouch down to examine them. But no sooner do I stumble upon a pressure plate, piercing the gloom with a narrow beam of sunlight, I'm being attacked by a blindfolded giant.
It's the fright of my life, but this is one of my favorite things about The Great Circle; handholding can be kept to a minimum thanks to the game's custom settings. You never know what you'll stumble upon, and that only feeds into the character's nature as an intrepid explorer. But even for a survival horror nerd such as myself, a jumpscare toggle would have been nice.
After wresting myself from its clutches, I crouch-scuttle away. Enraged by my escape, the giant raises its head to let out a guttural war cry – and, when it finally stops, ambles off in the other direction. I can use its sensory deprivation to my advantage, I think to myself, years of Outlast training flooding through my synapses as I search Indy's surroundings for a nice blunt instrument. Tense moments of hide-and-seek, as seen in some of the best horror games like Alien: Isolation, aren't for everyone – especially for those who actively avoid the genre. But much like my encounter with the Cynosure robot in Cyberpunk 2077: Phantom Liberty, I am very much in my element here in the Temple of Ra. At least for a while.
My personal Goliath
It takes a full fifteen minutes to bring my enemy down using this methodical approach.
The giant can't see me, but its presence is inescapable. Echolocator-like clicks and wheezing, labored breaths cut through the silence as I evade detection, heart dropping each time it pauses to listen for tell-tale noises that might give my position away.
I consider fighting it, eyeballing the healthy stash of bullets I've amassed by this point in the game. Alas, one quintessential survival horror impulse holds me back: "I should probably save them for the big guy," I think to myself, not that you can get much bigger than a literal giant. After a period of patient observation, though, I convince myself that I might not actually have to fight him. What if, like with the Cynosure robot, I can just sneak past? I watch my pursuer from afar, staying crouched all the while as I expertly search the perimeter of the tomb for more light-bestowing pressure plates. This is too easy, I gloat inwardly. But even after illuminating the chamber as much as the game will let me, I still find myself unable to interact with the pillar in the center of the room – and every time I stand up to try, the mounds of glimmering gold betray me.
Suddenly I'm being rushed by the blinded giant once again, firing two poorly-aimed shots its way before Indy gets pummelled to the ground and I make my escape. Fine, I fume as I slap on a bandage in what I pray is a quiet corner. Stealth melee mode it is. Rather than using any more of my 20-odd revolver bullets to just melt the guy then and there, I opt to batter the giant from behind after sneaking up on him with a melee weapon, followed by immediately dashing across the gold pieces to feint left or right before crouch-walking off in the opposite direction at the last minute. This sends the giant running off in the totally wrong way, leaving me to plan my next assault from a relatively safe distance. Lather, rinse, repeat.
It takes a full fifteen minutes to bring my enemy down using this methodical approach. As I deliver the final blow by simply lobbing a pipe at the giant's head, a satisfying bonk reverberating through the tomb as it crumples lifelessly into a pile of gargantuan limbs, I consider it fifteen minutes well-spent. Could the encounter have gone smoother? Sure. But to me, this one moment in the Temple of Ra crystalizes what makes Indiana such a fun and flexible character to embody. He's not a big powerful tough guy, but he is smarter, more cunning, and infinitely cooler under pressure than literally everyone else he meets. If there's one thing action games can learn from horror, it's how to be an underdog with style – and who is Indiana Jones if not precisely that?
There's plenty of upcoming Xbox Series X games to watch for in 2025 and beyond.
