Paranoia: Happiness is Mandatory
Subvert or support an underground dystopia.
The dystopia of enforced happiness has been dissected across media obsessively for decades, pretty much since capitalism and communism emerged as the two opposing ideologies of the 20th century, and did all in their power to show citizens on the other side just how happy we all are.
It’s a theme that often plays out as satire, but Paranoia: Happiness is Mandatory, based on the tabletop RPG, goes meta by parodying that satire. It’s witty and brimming with maddening bureaucracy and obfuscating doublespeak that’s part Joseph Heller, part Aldous Huxley.
You are a clone, born into adulthood in a futuristic underground society called Alpha Complex. It’s a rigidly hierarchical place, run by an all-seeing AI called Friend Computer, and filled with subservient people wearing colourcoded jumpsuits that denote their social standing. One small step out of line, and your treason will begin to accrue.
Treason is all too easy to commit in Paranoia, and you’ll need to quickly learn how to tow the line lest your treason level reaches 100 per cent and you’re summoned for incineration by Friend Computer. Speaking out of turn, asking too many questions, or even giving the wrong answers at a confession booth designed to absolve you of your transgressions are just a few of the slip-ups you can make.
You’re always paranoid, always wondering what petty action will get you in trouble this time. Even your own team members can go crying to the authorities in their hopes of becoming team leader themselves. It’s a system that imbues each dialogue choice with gravitas.
You progress by completing missions for Friend Computer – choosing from a small pool of team members to join you, each with different skills and personalities, then heading out into different parts of the underground.
DETECTIVE WORK
These missions are at their strongest when leaning into detective work. One early mission sees you tracking down a traitor who’s been rewiring vending machines to kill people. You need to sneak and schmooze your way onto crime scenes to deduce what happened.
I always have time for a game that lets you play the bastard. Doublecrossing double-crossers, or executing enemies after smooth-talking some intel from them feels deliciously evil. At these points, Paranoia follows the prestigious path of RPG sleuth-athon Disco Elysium in showing that a wellwritten game can be compelling with minimal combat.
True to CRPG tradition, combat is real-time with pause. You can direct squad members to get behind cover, flank enemies, and use some cooldownbased abilities, but beyond the bosses the enemy AI rarely tests you. For the most part, you can pew-pew your way through the game with laser rifles, rockets, and the occasional ability. There’s a loot system here too, but the limited range of interesting weaponry and armour along with tight and fiddly inventory space means that it’s rarely worth the hassle to go through.
Take out a teammate and their clones still reappear for the next mission, which somewhat dulls the impact of your decisions, but in the moment they create welcome unexpected scenarios.
Paranoia loves to point to the pointlessness of your actions for comic effect, but in doing so at the expense of compelling mechanics and systems, it tends to feel a little pointless itself, lacking a clear incentive for you to push through the game. ROBERT ZAK