First, second, somewhere-in-the-middle, final impressions about DISCO ELYSIUM

     Zaum – a literary and social experiment by Futurist poets in early 20^th century Russia, an attempt by these artists to create their own language in order to transcend beyond the inhibiting influence of politics, society, and economics to form a universal tongue that speaks to the hearts of people. The work produced in this “language” was, for the most part, entirely incomprehensible to anyone else other than the writers. Words only make sense to us because of the centuries – millennia – spent impressing upon those meaningless noises with our own understanding. Zaum was a private language, understood only by those who have a personal connection to it.

"Dyr bul shchyl," by Aleksei Kruchenykh... the poem goes:

 Dyr bul shchyl
ubeshshchur
skum
vy so bu
r l èz

    Disco Elysium is a game developed by a company called ZA/UM. The game is (mostly) comprehensible, unlike the Futurists’ language. But the game does resemble this language in one key aspect - its interiority. You are the main character, so you see the world from his eyes, and because of that the world is entirely subjective – it is personal. You can, of course, make yourself understood to other people, but that is only if you decide to do so – or you could decide to become what others think is a raving madman. You can hear the wind speak; you can talk to dead men. Others have their own way of seeing things. Because of this, Disco Elysium is a game about experiencing the world your own way.

    Let’s step back a little, before I get too far down the rabbit hole to be understood. Disco Elysium is at its core an RPG game – a CRPG game that resembles the likes of Fallout 1 or 2, or Planetscape: Torment, more than our modern ones. But here’s the rub: there is no combat system. Everything takes place in dialogue, and you choose what to do from there. And so, if fighting isn’t the main point, what do you do? Well, you primarily solve crimes. You sleuth, because you’re technically a detective (or so they say!). The game is about walking around a city, talking to people, and finding out what you want to do. You are assisted by two interesting systems – one of which is a fascinating and unique skill system. Instead of something mundane like weapon skills, you have skills like Inland Empire, which represents… something which I’m still not sure I understand. It’s some kind of connection to the supernatural, to the self, to something beyond reason. This skill goes under “psyche,” one of the four categories of skills. The other three are “intellect,” “physique,” and “motorics.” You decide in the character creation screen how you want to allot your abilities in each category, which then determines the maximum number of points you can allocate to it. If you only have one point in physique, then later in the game you will be able to only put a single point into skills like Electro-Chemistry (your interactions with drugs) or Shivers (your bodily intuition…? Something like that). I’ll return to these skills later, since they form an essential part of the game. 

Inland Empire and the other "skills" in Disco Elysium

    The other system is something called the “Thought Cabinet.” Through your interactions with people, places, or things, you will form ideas about certain things. That’s a given in real life, but it’s not something well represented in games. But in Disco Elysium, when you have a conversation with a muscle-head-racist, your thoughts take form and you can decide to place it into your Thought Cabinet, where you ruminate on the idea of racial superiority for a set length of time before coming up with a “solution.” For example, I may develop a strange interest in an old chewing gum wrapper for a while, giving me a the temporary debuff, “living in the past,” adding a -1 to Reaction Speed. Once I spend some time ruminating, I remember that the wrapper reminds me of my old flame, filling me with righteous anger and giving me +2 Perception, since “betrayal lingers, everywhere.” You do not know what these thoughts will yield before you actually finish thinking about them, so they are interesting mysteries in themselves. You initially get 3 open slots for free, and have to pay skill points to open more later in the game. A fascinating system that honestly represents our way of thinking rather well, I would say. 

So many thoughts, so little time

    But the without the best part of the game, these systems would be nothing more than minor diversions. It is only when it jives with the dialogue and the world that these skills and thoughts really come into play. This is where the game becomes unique compared to every other RPGs out there. The dialogue. My god, the dialogue. It isn’t just well written – that would be the same for many of the great RPGs out there. No, it’s in the fact that it does not simulate dialogue, but rather how a person thinks and talks. It picks apart how we manage the world around us, and organizes it into this system of dialogue-skills-thoughts. Examples: when we begin the game, we start talking to something called the Ancient Reptilian Brain. If my knowledge of psychology has not completely abandoned me, I believe this would be referring to the brainstem, the part of our brain that manages the most basic functions of life in a human body (such as breathing). The Limbic System then joins in the party. Yes, in this game, you speak to parts of your own brain and body. Why? Maybe because that hangover the day after that basher of a party is your body “telling” you something. All this wordless speaking your body does to your consciousness every moment of everyday is translated to us in the form of a dialogue you would have with your neighbor. But that’s not all. You might have heard people saying things like “that shirt speaks to my soul” or what-have-you, but have you seen a person discussing philosophy with their own ties? In Disco Elysium, you do. The tie is a very good friend, by the way. Do not abandon him, even if you do find a cooler neck accessory. But in any case, it is here that the game shines. The conversations are wacky and funny, sometimes tragic and terrible – but they’re always interesting. The skills that I previously mentioned are also here, acting as almost separate personalities. Empathy, for example, pipes in now and again, reminding you that you should avoid provoking a man holding a gun to your head. These voices provide little tidbits of sometimes important, sometimes hilarious commentary on your conversations with others, guiding you towards your goals. They also argue with each other, sometimes – a true conflict of mind and body, finally represented in a game! 

Electrochemistry, Conceptualization, and the Horrific Necktie having a discussion

    The skills are also not as cut-and-dried as in other games. Just because you have a lot of Empathy doesn’t mean that you can click a button to make the best choice that solves all your problems. There are skill-checks, and perhaps one of them is Empathy, but the game goes far to make sure that you know (or realize) that not only intellect and psyche are important in conversations. For example, a mysterious girl calls herself a “silver bird,” and you are faced with a skill-check to find out more. But it’s not Encyclopedia (your vast trivia knowledge), Empathy, or Logic – it’s Reaction Speed. Yes, Reaction Speed, under Motorics, to catch a metaphorical bird. Of course, that isn’t to say that you can’t predict everything; Interfacing most of the times involves dealing with electronics and locks, and you can rest assured that Physical Instrument is used in heavy work. But Esprit de Corp, your connection and understanding of “cop culture,” sometimes tells you what your colleagues are doing at that exact moment (such as gossiping about you) even though you have no real way of possibly knowing. I ended up throwing points into a bunch of categories that I certainly did not expect I would.

    Now, how do these dialogues actually work? It’s not that much different than a typical CRPG, to be honest. You talk to people, you interact with objects, you talk to more people, do a few skill-checks – that’s how the game goes. These skill-checks are supplemented by things that you do in the world; if you piss a person off, that might be a -1 to their willingness to divulge classified information to you. On the other hand, if you found something to blackmail them with, it might make them more inclined to listen to your requests. This makes you able to progress in the game even if you do not have the appropriate points in those skills. Furthermore, these skill-checks are divided into white and red ones. White ones are repeatable, once you put points into that skill and return, while red ones are one-time only. This is where I’m a little leery. I will confess that I save-scummed a god-awful number of times in this game, because skill-checks are calculated as chances. I’m unwilling to let that 82% go as a failure, damnit! This is especially relevant to white skill-checks, as they are usually gating content. I’m not going to re-roll a 3% check, but a 60%? That, I might. I’m not going to tell you whether or not to save-scum, but it certainly didn’t ruin the experience for me. It actually prevented me from getting truly frustrated a few times, too. But the red checks are different. These are fascinating, because failing them is almost as interesting as succeeding. Shit goes wrong. Badly, sometimes. But you’re guaranteed to have a different outcome, sometimes even accompanied by hilarious actions, which I why I avoid re-rolling these.

    And here’s another point in Disco’s favor. They make being stupid, crazy, and weird fun. I pestered a random lady next to the bookstore about her family, because I told myself this is what a detective does. Yes, I went straight up to her face and told her that I knew that something was wrong with her. Yes, her children must be missing! No? Drug problems then! No dice? How about the husband? All the while, my police partner looked at me, horrified, and the lady kept calling me cuckoo (I also received a quest to find out what a cuckoo was from that conversation, too). But then she revealed that her husband had been gone after he went out to return her book to the library. He probably fell asleep in a pub somewhere, she kept telling us (and herself). But finally, she relented, and we took on the job. I found him half a day later on my way to arrest the main suspect. He was dead. It was rather horrifying that my stupid conversation with the lady led me to this, but it was something that stuck with me. If I had stuck with the normal, boring choices, I would have never gone up to this random lady accusing her of having a troubled family life, and never learnt the tragic truth about her husband.

    There’s more to be said about Disco Elysium: the goddamn story which has more twists and turns than a goddamn pretzel, the intricate world-building, and the complicated depths of each character. What sets Disco Elysium apart is how the developers decided that they wanted an RPG that would truly put the player into a character – physically, as well as mentally. I’ll play other RPGs, and I’ll have a lot of fun with them – but when people ask me about my most memorable gaming moment, I have to admit that it was the final, heartbreaking conversation between me and my tie in Disco Elysium that I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

My friend, Horrific Necktie... you shall forever remain in my memories, as long as I live...