Disco Elysium is quite possibly the best video game I have ever played. It is certainly the most unique. I knew it was something special after only an hour of playing it, and while I have not started a new game since finishing it—“beating” is probably not the right word for Disco Elysium—it is a game that could reveal fresh layers through dozens, perhaps hundreds, of playthroughs, even if it only consists of one “main quest,” as it were.
I’ve never played a game that more accurately reflects the way my own mind is structured, and the way that I think about and dwell upon certain inane details. I don’t have a “Thought Cabinet,” per se, but the notion of fixating upon and ruminating about an idea to the point that it worms its way into your psyche feels true to my experience. As dear old Ponty will point out, the game has a way of seeping into your mind and, therefore, your life outside of the game.
I don’t want to give too much away, as Ponty delivers a brilliant and detailed review, so I’ll turn the controller over to him.
With that, here is Ponty’s review of Disco Elysium:
Disco Elysium
Platforms [Links are affiliate links; I receive a portion of sales at no cost to you, blah blah blah. —TPP]:
As I sat peeling sprouts on an overcast Easter morning, a few things flitted in and out of my mind. Mainly, though, on the task at hand. I reconciled with the fact that nothing is at it seems but it still annoyed me that the lies come without consequence. Like pre-peeled sprouts, perhaps one of the biggest lies we’ve come to accept. This isn’t the first time it’s bothered me and as I sat, once again peeling sprouts that would be dirty and ragged if you cooked and served them in their supposedly ‘pre-peeled’ status, I vowed that the next time I went back to the supermarket, I’d ask for a discount since the label, all the labels, for this product are wrong. But then I thought, well, no one else has complained about this product; not to my knowledge anyway. And then I thought that this probably meant more, that is was an existential problem. Maybe the lie was bigger than I thought. Maybe everything or nothing is pre-peeled. Maybe this lie is what perpetuates the entirety of our existence but we, who are unwilling to fathom the enormity of such a question, can continue as normal because complaining about this lie would get us nowhere. And then, as my thoughts manifested into conversation, Tina responded that maybe I’d been playing this game a little too long.
The game she was referring to was Disco Elysium, a philosophical role playing game which burrows into thought and existence while also going through the motions of a detective mystery.
When your detective, Harrier/Harry Du Bois, wakes up, clutching his head, with the mother of all hangovers, he must solve two mysteries; who killed the hanged man at the back of the café and recalling, well, anything about himself. The impression you get is your detective went on a majorly serious bender because he really can’t remember who he is. Now, in my lifetime, I’ve been on some serious drinking sessions, so bad that I have wondered how I made it back the previous evening, even forgetting what happened the previous night or the various days before. I can usually remember my name and what I do but that’s about it. I’m thankful that I’ve never had to retrace my steps, like our poor detective, ascertaining along the way what I do, who I am and what I did. 2 out of 3 anyway.
When you stumble out of your flat – after the possibility of impaling yourself on the ceiling fan (yes, I did that after Tina told me it might be an idea to turn it off at the wall before retrieving my tie) – you meet Kim, your partner in this mystery. He follows you for the majority of the game, making suggestions, offering insight and more likely than not sighing as you struggle with your own conscience and the varying characters the game offers up.
The game really tests your memory as you wander from one area to another, each character throwing up either superfluous comments or new intrigue as you follow whichever path you’ve set before you, Kim dutifully following hoping beyond hope that you don’t do anything to get yourself and him in trouble.
With each task or conversation resolved, you get the opportunity to improve your skills, whether in intellect, physique, motorics and psyche, each coming with their own particular skill sets. These make interaction, whether with inanimate objects or people easier but it all depends on how you interact with the game. The same goes with Thoughts, which you can internalise and switch depending on what you need at that particular point of the game.
Now, you can play this as you want. You can remember that you’re a professional and go about your business in an exacting and confident manner. Or, like us, you can be flippant and obnoxious, even though this is a great way to get your character killed. But it does bring around some interesting results. For one, it identifies the sort of cop you’re becoming. Tina and I achieved the Superstar rating essentially because we chose the Disco option whenever we could and had no issue boasting. We were close to Apocalypse Cop but our general behaviour, which received a lot of head nods and sighs from Kim, kept us well away from Boring. We tend to like the chaos factor, whether we’re playing this or any other game. It adds another perspective.
The gameplay is a simple click and follow, for movement, or highlighting options in the dialogue box. Some may see that as limited but each option will bring up fresh possibilities so you never play the same game twice. The graphics aren’t going to blow anyone’s skirts up but I like them. It’s more art than striking and accurate high definition and it works for the type of game it is.
The soundtrack is great, sometimes low key brass, other times thoughtful and beautiful but the best thing about this title is the dialogue. When you’re not listening to your own mind trying to diminish you at every turn, the exchanges between you and other characters will leave you bent double in laughter. Of all mediums of entertainment, I can honestly say that I’ve never laughed as much as with this game. Yes, it asks intriguing questions. Yes, there’s a lot of dialogue and description to consume but crikey, it’s really funny, so much so that at times, Tina and I could be found keeled over, halfway from couch to floor, clutching our bellies and wiping the tears from our eyes.
Hand on heart, I’ve never played anything quite like Disco Elysium and probably never will again, well, not unless the Estonian creator, Robert Kurvitz, makes another game like it [sadly, this seems unlikely now—TPP]. It’s heavy going, yes, but the journey is well worth it. It’s surprising, touching, intriguing and hilarious and though I’m splitting hairs in mentioning the only fault being the short ending, it’s a classic.
One final thought, with Audre in mind. Some of the language can get a little raw but it’s not the be all and end all of this game. There’s a lot to pique your interest and it’s very emotive. It’ll also play really well on the computer so, if you get the time, check it out but one piece of advice; when you get to Cuno, the little scrote throwing rocks at the hanging body, try to get through it as quick as you can!