So, I finally played Disco Elysium. Yes, yes, I know—I’m late to the party, but let me tell you, this isn’t just a game; it’s a bizarre, thought-provoking, occasionally depressing, and completely captivating deep dive into the human psyche. If you’re looking for a fun little detective romp where you solve crimes and everything turns out fine… Disco Elysium is not that. But if you’re up for becoming a walking disaster of a detective, this might just be the game of your wildest, strangest dreams.
What Even Is Disco Elysium?
Picture this: You wake up in a trashed hotel room with the kind of hangover that makes you question whether life is even worth living. You’ve got no memory of who you are, where you are, or why you’re not wearing pants. Sounds like a rough Monday morning, right? Wrong—it’s just another day in the life of our protagonist, a detective so deeply broken that he might just be the perfect man for the job.
Disco Elysium is an RPG where the real battles aren’t fought with swords or guns but with your own psyche. It’s set in a city called Revachol, a place that’s as rundown as your detective’s life. There’s a murder to solve, sure, but the game is really about much more than that—it’s about philosophy, politics, morality, and, most importantly, how spectacularly you can screw up as a human being.
The Skills – Conversations with Yourself
Here’s where things get really interesting: instead of traditional RPG stats like strength or agility, Disco Elysium gives you a list of psychological traits and inner voices. You’ve got your Intellect, Psyche, Physique, and Motorics, but under each of these categories are skills with personalities of their own. And trust me, they all have opinions.
For example, your “Drama” skill might encourage you to lie or act theatrically in certain situations, while “Electrochemistry” is the part of your brain that really just wants to party (read: get drunk and do drugs). It’s like having a committee in your head, and each member is trying to steer you toward a different, usually disastrous, outcome. Sometimes you’ll get sage advice, and other times your own brain will convince you to pick a fight with a mailbox.
The Dialogue – Prepare to Get Existential
The dialogue in Disco Elysium is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced in a game before. It’s a mixture of absurd humor, deep philosophical musings, and moments of sheer, gut-wrenching humanity. You’ll be having a perfectly normal conversation with someone one minute, and the next, you’ll be contemplating the meaning of existence or trying to suppress the urge to ask why everything is so terrible.
You’re not just choosing dialogue options; you’re engaging in verbal chess matches where the stakes are your sanity (and maybe someone’s life, but that’s secondary, right?). And the writing? It’s top-notch. Every line is sharp, witty, and often full of melancholy. Sometimes it’s laugh-out-loud funny, and other times it feels like a punch to the gut. But isn’t that just life?
The Art – A Wreck of Beauty
The art style in Disco Elysium perfectly matches the game’s tone. It’s gritty, hand-painted, and full of character. The world of Revachol is bleak, but it’s also beautiful in a tragic sort of way. It’s like looking at a watercolor painting that got caught in the rain and somehow became more interesting because of it.
Every location you explore feels like it’s been lived in (and probably abandoned for good reason). It’s a city that’s seen better days, much like your character. And yet, there’s something almost poetic about wandering through this broken place, piecing together clues about both the murder and your own fragmented life.
The Verdict – A Glorious Mess
Playing Disco Elysium is like diving headfirst into the most fascinating existential crisis you’ll ever experience. It’s a game that asks you tough questions and gives you terrible answers, but somehow, you’re completely okay with that. It’s messy, it’s complicated, and it’s often overwhelming, but that’s also what makes it brilliant.
This isn’t your average detective game—it’s a masterpiece of narrative design, an exploration of the human condition, and a chance to see just how far you can push a character before they completely unravel. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
