Disco Elysium review

In dark times, should the stars also go out?

Disco Elysium. For a CRPG of its type, it is surprisingly well-known -- perhaps for it’s brilliance. The unique dialogue system with witty political humour, the beautifully ruined world, the post-impressionist art -- it all comes together in a one-of-a-kind game… no, *experience*. Chances are, you know all of this already, and don’t need me to repeat it. So instead, this article will be about my experience with the game.

It started out rough. When interacting with me even briefly, it’s easy to see that I usually try to be “good” to the point of being “boring” -- for example, I am radically anti-drinking and believe in never skipping lectures (Yes, even the Scheme ones). This directly translates to my experience in gaming -- if there is a “choose your own adventure”, I *will* play as The Hero™ and do absolutely no evil no matter how “dull” that route is. Which meant the beginning Disco Elysium was a blunt hit on the head.

When you wake up into the world, you are already in shit. Deep shit. You can’t be “the good guy” here -- no matter what you do, the cloud of neurotoxin and air of *disco* that came before will linger. When I talked to someone for the first time and there was no sane option -- meaning a thousand apologies and a sincere promise to fix *everything* -- my initial instinct was to just close the game. Which I did! Then a month passed, and I gave it a second chance. And will forever be glad I did.

The past isn’t your to choose. But the present is. You *can* be nice, you *can* make the world better “one hug at a time”. Sure, a broke heartbroken alcoholic “detective” with amnesia and *a lot* of questionable history is a very long title to get rid of, perhaps too large to ever truly put behind you. And it’s not like you can really change anything, being pseudo-police with barely any local foothold. But there is something beautiful in fighting it all, “precisely *because* it’s impossible”.

Zooming out, we get to the world. Oh, the world. The lore is extremely detailed, with fictional technologies, countries, ethnicities -- and bad words to call ’em. It feels almost, but not quite, entirely unlike our own, with a fun mix of time periods too. Flintlock pistols with aerostats and radio, anyone?

But Martinaise, the place you explore, is a poor sight to behold. Kids on the streets with access to drugs, a workers union as the only semblance of authority, and a vaguely sinister foreign occupation always hovering somewhere in the stratosphere. All while ruined buildings remind you of a lost war. And yet among the rubble, life goes on. It feels like a core theme of Disco Elysium - no matter how dire the situation is, all isn’t lost. Teenagers try to build a club at an abandoned church, the aforementioned union aims to create a community centre. After all, a failed check can be just as interesting as a success, right?

Though it is marketed as a murder mystery, Disco Elysium is far from one. You’ll solve it all eventually, but what *surrounds* your quest is the meat of the game. The most beautiful moments were the small interactions with random people and the side quests. Exploring an abandoned commercial area, framing a racist for corporate espionage… there are tons of fun encounters, each of them branching into countless variations of events and forming a unique, unforgettable journey.

When I first tried Disco Elysium, I thought that I got myself into a pretentious, nihilistic “boo hoo everything sucks” type of story. I was wrong. Despite everything, it is one of the most hopeful games I ever played. To me, it was a game about doing your best in a world where nobody can. About moving on and turning over a new page in life. About the sky, the world, and being alive.

And, without a doubt, it was *HARDCORE TO THE MEGA*