The melancholic strains of music that float in combine with the painterly, impressionistic style to create a distinct and cohesive sense of place. The town is filled with nooks and alleyways, secret doors and high-rise elevators that lead to unmarked floors. There’s a feeling that this is a scene of tangled riddles, and that you, in your equivalent brokenness, might be just the right key to unlock them. The writing, by the Karelian-Estonian novelist Robert Kurvitz, skilfully builds on the themes suggested by the presentation. With a light touch, the dialogue explores everything from minor acts of everyday racism to entire systems of governance, all through the lens of the murder case.
It is rare that a video game so successfully allows its player to inhabit the mind of another, as in a first-person novel, but Disco Elysium executes the trick with alluring style. It is equally unusual that a game should eschew all traits of power fantasy, forcing its player to adapt to the caprice of chance. This is a quietly important game, singular in direction, filled with unexpected, thrilling effects on its player.