The Symbiosis of mechanic and narrative in disco elysium
“It’s better to know you’re being played than to be played without knowing it, is it not?”
Half a century after the release of Pong, it is difficult to dispute the legitimacy of video games as an art form. Nowadays, the binary question of whether a video game is a work of art warrants far less discussion than the open-ended question of how a video game is a work of art. Foremost, the perspective of a player fosters an unparalleled degree of immersion, a unique relationship between an audience and a medium. Upon this foundation, thoughtfully constructed gameplay mechanics can contribute to deep themes and layered narratives. For example, the vertical level design and infamous enemy aggression in Dark Souls elevates a palpable theme: the harrowing pursuit of hope in desolation. From the pervasive time limit of The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask to the calculated character placement in The Last of Us: Part II, the most impactful games involve an intricate congruence between gameplay and narrative. In this respect, no game shines more than ZA/UM’s Disco Elysium.
Disco Elysium is written with the density of a rich novel and adorned with a striking watercolor aesthetic, but the complete embodiment of its narrative within its gameplay is what stands out above all else. In form and function, the game captures the onerous reclamation of identity under the seemingly inescapable weight of a traumatic past. The protagonist of Disco Elysium, Harry Du Bois, is an amnesiac cop whose duty to piece together an external mystery coincides with a painful resolve to navigate his internal strife. Harry wrestles with the shackles of who he once was (and perhaps still is), operating as a living microcosm of the game’s post-revolutionary setting — a ravaged city that continues to be marred by the violence of its history. Harry, caught in a serpentine clash between past and present, faces a colorful gamut of choices with both personal and political consequences. This clash manifests with vivid affect, as the game’s nuanced roleplaying systems equip players to submerge in a distinctly complex portrait and ultimately unforgettable experience.
As a dialogue-centric game, Disco Elysium is driven by the player’s conversations with other characters and the decisions that they make within those conversations. However, a multitude of dialogue options and actions will be locked behind dice rolls that weigh the player’s skills in determining success. Progress in the game is dictated by these “active checks” and guided by “passive checks” — where Disco Elysium’s fine blend of narrative and gameplay radiates. The twenty-four skills in the game, categorized by four attributes (Intellect, Psyche, Physique, and Motorics), are not simply statistics that the player seeks to optimize. Rather, each skill is associated with an animated persona that chimes in with idiosyncratic input as Harry explores Martinaise. These skills, which include “Logic” and “Empathy” as well as “Electrochemistry” and “Composure,” interact with the player as principle-based characters rather than mere gameplay mechanics. For instance, Logic advises the player to assess situations analytically while Empathy provides cues about how others are feeling. Not every skill is necessarily helpful, as Electrochemistry will loudly interject whenever Harry finds any opportunity to consume drugs — no matter how remote that opportunity is.
The personification of the skill system in Disco Elysium directly serves and reflects the narrative of the game. The cacophony of these vocal personalities illustrates Harry’s fractured state of mind, underscoring the complexities that carve the process of change. Everything in this world, external and internal, is layered. In painstakingly sketching these layers, Disco Elysium elucidates that humanity is inherently coated in flaw and fallacy. Its skill system thoroughly reinforces this conception, as investing too many experience points in any skill leads to an unconventional drawback: the strength becomes a weakness. Too much Rhetoric yields obstinacy, as its advice on argumentative flair turns into misplaced conviction. Similarly, too much Authority morphs Harry’s presence from confident to draconian. In one of the game’s most memorable moments, the skills are beguiled into supplying Harry with erroneous judgments — a manic conflict made possible only by the personification of the skills. The fallibility of the skills is entertaining and endearing, elevating the encounters and further conveying the themes of Disco Elysium.
Harry continually contends with dissonance from his personal demons and moral ambiguities from institutional machinations, made especially apparent by the discordant voices within him. And the player, while developing Harry’s skills and shifting their associated personas, may also embrace transformative insights through the game’s “Thought Cabinet.” As Harry engages with his chaotic surroundings, he will be introduced to a variety of avant-garde ideas ranging from “Hardcore Aesthetic” and “The Insulindian Miracle” to “Indirect Modes of Taxation” and “Advanced Race Theory” (not to be confused with Critical Race Theory). If the player invests experience points into these ideas, Harry will initially suffer side-effects from the hardships of higher cognition before internalizing the thoughts for lasting bonuses. Much like the game’s skill system, the Thought Cabinet displays the rocks in the road to progress — a road that does not always lead to the imagined destination. It relates not only to the labyrinthian trajectory of Harry’s character, but also Harry’s point of view in the waking moment as an amnesiac in a deeply complicated world.
Disco Elysium lacks the conventional combat or strategy seen in most other titles, but the fact that it is a non-traditional isometric RPG only heightens its presence as an exemplar of game design. Even with comparatively simplistic “point-and-click” gameplay, Disco Elysium demonstrates an interweaving of game mechanic and narrative unlike any other. The systems described above mold the player’s perspective, the game’s setting, and every interaction between that perspective and setting. They enable pointing and clicking to become a multifaceted adventure filled with tension, emotion, and rumination. The construction of every character and quest in the open world of Disco Elysium follows a plain intent to depict a dynamic reality, vibrantly perceived by a man who is equally dynamic.
As the story of Disco Elysium unfolds, certain confrontations breed genuine stress from the looming consequences of choice. Until the very end, the stakes continue to raise for the residents of Martinaise and the soul of the protagonist. Whether investigating a murder or searching for a phasmid, no chase follows a straight line. Rightfully, the ending of the game operates as a swansong evocative of the human condition as portrayed in Disco Elysium. After a winding journey, the player is left with as many revelations as questions, unsure of what is next for Harry or Martinaise. Like the roleplaying systems and environment that shape the experience, the path forward is exhaustive, littered with life and detail. Uncertain, without closure but not without hope. And perhaps that is the point. Regardless of where we end up or who we become, nothing may prove more important than the step in a new direction.