DISCO ELYSIUM
| RELEASED 2019
Robin: I struggle to think of a game that has more radically changed how I think about a genre. DiscoElysium breaks down the RPG, turns it upside down, slaps it in the face, and then takes it to a bar to get hammered with it. Despite an old school isometric perspective, it couldn’t be more willing to dump dry old tropes and mess with the ones it keeps, to the point that even much larger, more fully-featured RPGs seem oddly unambitious, and even stagnant, by comparison.
Jody: Of all the bold things DiscoElysium does, my favourite is that it says videogames can be political and all the better for it. It starts out cynical about politics and constantly points out the flaws of every ideology, including ideology-less centrism, but it builds from there to a point – that politics are messy and confusing but also necessary, that communities should take care of their own most vulnerable members, and that even when it hides behind labels like ‘traditionalism’ and ‘nationalism’, fascism can rise. It makes other RPGs, especially ones that try to present both sides of every argument, seem wishy-washy and cowardly.
Fraser: DiscoElysium lingers long after it’s over. It poses a barrage of questions and constantly challenges with its themes of revolution, nationalism, morality – a kaleidoscope of ideologies all being presented before the game tears them down. Every character seems to have a manifesto, and the game itself almost serves as a manifesto for the future of RPGs, or at least ZA/UM’s vision for it.
It rips out so many tired RPG cliches and swaps world-shattering stakes for an introspective exploration of a man utterly failing to hold it together. It grabs the genre by the shoulders and shouts, “You don’t need elves or fights or scenery-chewing villains!” And even when it uses conventional stuff like skill checks, it reinvents the whole system. Skills have personalities. They talk to you. They tell you secrets about the city or offer insights into crime scenes.
Playing other RPGs, I just keep thinking about DiscoElysium. It makes most of them seem cautious and set in their ways, and the constant recycling of systems that have, in some cases, barely changed in decades seems less forgivable now that there’s this much more appealing alternative available.
Andy K: I knew DiscoElysium was special from pretty much the moment I started playing it for our review – but I didn’t bank on it permanently altering my expectations for an entire genre. The freedom you have to shape the protagonist, through the things you say and do, is quite extraordinary. He’s a gross, wet ball of clay, and by the end of the game it really does feel like you’ve moulded him into something distinctly yours. I’m also amazed whenever I play how developer ZA/UM seems to constantly be two steps ahead of me, with some kind of reward or pay-off, even if it’s a small one, for any harebrained idea I happen to dream up. The only really bad thing I have to say about DiscoElysium is that it’s ruined all other RPGs for me. If only all the others were this improbably deep.
Jacob: If I asked you to describe the worst hangover you’ve ever experienced, it wouldn’t hold a candle to the one you have to live out in DiscoElysium.
Wes: The writing! I want to bathe in these words. There’s a joyous reverence shimmering off every sentence in Disco Elysium. It feels so alive with its mission to prove that words alone can make a masterpiece. Turns out they can.
Plenty of RPGs have great writing. DiscoElysium goes out of its way, though, to truly elevate its text. Tremendous care went into the presentation – the font, the way text unfurls, the visual effects when you pass or fail a skill check – to keep you glued to these words. DiscoElysium turns traditional RPG skills into luscious conversations, with each voice in your head adding colour, clarity and humour to a scene far more effectively than graphics could. It’s a thousand times more interesting and creative than a companion in a BioWare-style RPG chiming in with an opinion on your latest binary decision.
I love games that truly feel like they were made by individual human beings, and it’s staggering that every word, in a game of this scope, can feel so personal.
THERE’S A JOYOUS REVERENCE SHIMMERING OFF EVERY SENTENCE.