I don’t even know how to get started on Disco Elysium. Someone on Twitter described it as Hunter S. Thompson writing Planescape: Torment, and I don’t think I can do any better. Instead, I’ll just rave about all of my favourite bits, which incidentally have a lot to do with how I like to roleplay in the first place.
Loser cop
So, a little context: in Disco Elysium, you play a detective who has delved so deep into alcohol poisoning he does not remember who he is anymore. His subconscious frequently implies that it’s better this way. Your disco-loving detective is an incredible loser. He has little to no impulse control and loses his shit all the time: one of the first quests is to find your other shoe. There is nothing dignified about him, he is just pure and utter trash.
Exactly how I like it. I love to play losers! Anti-heroes are okay, but damn, losers are where it’s at. I’m somewhat known for picking the least valuable character build: in our Last Airbender game, everyone geared up to play cool benders. I played a farmer. In a lovely one-off where we played a highly capable action team of german spies, I played a piano tuner who’d mistakenly gotten recruited. In our steampunk status game of Victorian nobility, I played a nervous chambermaid who’s afraid of everything. You get the idea. Discovering how to make your loser character useful is a fascinating challenge.
Many people roleplay to escape into a kind of power fantasy of control and snappy one-liners, and that’s fine. But I love to enter a fictional world where the escapades, many failures and occasional small triumphs of utter losers are lovingly explored. It feels like the place where both hilarious comedy and exquisite drama are available to you. A subtle place, where heroics are managing to put your coat on correctly, and remembering someone’s name. Fuck saving the world and getting the girl.
Items of clothing increase your stats so that at any given point of the game you look like a mismatched hobo. Oh, the other thing that can increase your stats temporarily is drugs, so good luck trying to get sober and get your life back on track, detective! Oh, and both your health and morale can descend quite rapidly as you are very skilled at both hurting and demoralizing yourself at ANY given moment.
As you can imagine, I am having a wonderful time with our main character and his inability to keep it together. In one of my favourite moments, I endeavoured to cut a lock with bolt cutters. I failed, and my trusty companion helpfully pointed out that I should probably cut the wire, not the lock itself. I tried and failed again. The screen went black as my morale plummeted into the ground like a comet, and I was so overwhelmed by failing in front of my esteemed companion that it made me want to stop living altogether.
That’s big mood, y’all.
Play to lose: failure is interesting
Failures in Disco Elysium happen a lot, and it’s always interesting. In tabletop RPG world, this was only invented a few years ago with Apocalypse World, so it’s great to see it implemented here in crpgs.
Failures will open up new conversations, have unexpectedly funny things happen, and usually finds cool story ways to make you better at your skill check so you can retake it. My absolute favorite scene in the game happened only due to my crippling inability to sing karaoke.
Even when you get better, you also get worse. The game has a ton of traits for you to level up in. Wonderful traits, crazy traits. Shivers makes you better at tuning into the city. Inland Empire gives you psychic delusions … or premonitions? Conceptualisation makes you better at making associations. Electrochemistry makes you better at finding and taking drugs. Composure makes you cooler and gives you better fashion sense.
But the better you get at something, the more it locks you in. Every trait has a downside at the higher levels. A high Composure might makes you a judgemental fashion critic and refuse to do anything that would get dirt on your clothes. Shivers makes you completely paranoid and jittery. You can get better, but you’ll never be good.
Play to flow: internalizing thoughts
Due to our lovable protagonist’s lack of memory and impulse control, he is all over the place. This means you can be too! In LARPS, they call that Play to flow and I really enjoy playing with that style. A single throwaway phrase can throw my entire game into a new direction.
And that’s exactly what our guy does all game. There’s even a mechanic for it. When our detective encounters new thoughts that intrigue him, he can internalize them. This means pondering them for a substantial amount of in-game time. When that time is up, he is done processing the thought and has adopted it as his own. Each one conveniently comes with mechanic bonus (or penalty).
The game is full of socio-economic theories, hedonistic thoughts, or just stray bits of lore that get in your head and send you on late night wikipedia binges. There’s thoughts that make you question your sexuality, your (lack of) sobriety, or the advantages of becoming a feminist or a fascist. It’s all there, and even once you have processed these, you can still change your mind and adopt a different world view. It’s amazing!
Deep relationships: Precinct 57’s finest
Disco Elysium doesn’t reward you with increasing awesomeness. It rewards you with wild story payoffs and beautiful NPC interactions. Which is exactly what we want, and the things we most love to remember from old school RPGs. Like, the time Mordin sang that song in Mass Effect 2, or when my one true love Alistair and me beheaded this guy together. Or the plots twists of Yoshimo in Baldur’s Gate and every mind blowing plot-fuck in Final Fantasy VII. You know what I’m talking about.
Most questlines end in a banger of a story scene (the church and the karaoke are notable examples) that leave you reeling or laughing deliriously at the screen. But a lot of the player involvement and reward comes from one particular relationship.
Kim Kitsuragi is your new partner for the duration of this case from hell. Kim knows exactly how much of a wreck you are, but he also knows that the world is a rough place and that being a cop eats you up and spits you back out. Throughout the game, he becomes the rock of normalcy that you cling to. Kim is patient, lenient and supports you nearly unconditionally. Kim makes you want to stop drinking. Kim makes you want to be a good cop. The moment where he finally addresses you as “detective” is enough to make a grown man cry. Kim is redemption. He’s the companion cube squared.
At some point, I had sent Kim off to process a body - a procedure that would keep him busy for the whole day. Exploring on my own, I found a Very Traumatic Thing that made it very clear how deep my detective had sunk. I decided then and there that I would reload my game and lose hours of progress, because I didn’t want him to face said thing by himself.
What else can I say? The writing is incredible. The artwork expressively maudlin. It’s too clever for its own good, but in a way that can still appeal to everyone. It’s very hard to find fault in Disco Elysium. It is simply hard core.