Deus Ex: Human Revolution Review | Eurogamer.net

I’ve been playing Deux Ex: Human Revolution without a break for the past 36 hours. Well, I’m taking the odd nap and toilet break, and scoffing my face with protein bars to top up the energy levels, but other than that my entire waking hours have been consumed - CONSUMED - by this incredibly engrossing videogame.

By the barest whisper of a whisker, I narrowly missed the opportunity to review it for a national newspaper, and quite frankly I’m gutted about this. There’re so many good things to say about the game, so many enthusiasms I want to share with other people who’d get a kick out of it. So what the heck, I’m going to quote a review from another source, and then tack on some opinions of my own.

Here’s an extract of what Eurogamer has to say:

You’re playing as Adam Jensen, chief of security at Sarif Industries, a leading augmentation company and the target of all sorts of corporate jealousy and militant activism. Following a break-in at the start of the game in which you fall through some glass and get both your arms amputated (hang on, what?), you wake up to be told that your ex-girlfriend, a leading scientist, has been burned to a crisp and that it’s your job to go around the world with your new robot arms finding out why.

The systems that underpin everything are all great. Dialogue and interrogation are like boxing, full of ducks and weaves and - if you buy the right augment - vital signs and physiological tells upon which you win or lose exchanges. Stealth is based on line of sight and the cover system is perfect, allowing you to hide and move with confidence in every situation. Direct combat is brutal and difficult, but once you think beyond the assault rifle and start mixing it up with various kinds of explosives and projectiles, you can really master your environment.

Hacking is my favourite, though. There are computers, door panels and security systems all over the world to break into using a mini-game where you have to take over nodes one by one without being noticed. If you are, then it’s a race against time, or you can pull out and try again using viruses and augmentations to try to remain undetected. Most hacks yield bonus cash and tools if you probe the right regions, too. It’s always about risk versus reward rather than just puzzle-solving.

And here’s what I have to say:

First observation: There’s a plethora of references to cinematic science fiction, most obviously to Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner and Alien, but also more subtle nods to the work of Stanley Kubrick, William Gibson and Katsuhiro Otomo. They’re scattered through the visual design and narrative, like chunky chocolate chips wrapped up in a moist cookie dough, and every bite is a delight.

Second Observation: It’s not just about paying tribute to sci-fi’s greatest hits, its got something of its own to say about the concept of transhumanism. As in, the subject is more than pretty window-dressing for the game mechanic, it’s properly explored and discussed, and gives the narrative a weight it needs to be truly memorable. Case in point, a visit to the protagonist’s apartment reveals that the bathroom mirror has been shattered, presumably by the occupant in a darker mood when he reflects upon what he has become.

Third observation: The design of the game is immaculate and defies pigeon-holing in a particular genre. It’s not a role-playing game, it’s not a first-person shooter, it’s not a stealth game. It’s all of the above and more, accommodating multiple styles of play within a massive storyline and game-space. Some players like to flit through the shadows, an unseen ghost of corporate espionage. Me, I like to make my presence felt and trip every alarm I can find. Both approaches are equally valid and satisfying.

Conclusion: I’ve just fallen in love with videogames all over again. Also, I need to go to bed.

Japan crises echo its pop culture disaster narratives - latimes.com

It’s uncanny. It’s as though a feature-writer from the LA Times has been rooting around in my brain:

Like Hollywood in the 1970s, with its queasy procession of upside-down ships, crippled airplanes and towering infernos, postwar Japanese popular culture has had a taste for disaster.

The sublimely cheesy, enormously popular “Godzilla” films launched in the 1950s depicted a dinosaur-like monster, spawned by underwater nuclear detonations, crashing through the streets of Tokyo. The popular 1973 novel “Japan Sinks” envisions the island nation being physically split in two by a combined earthquake-tsunami. And in the landmark 1988 animated sci-fi film “Akira,” adapted from a manga epic, a nuclear explosion levels Tokyo and precipitates World War III.

The three-headed calamity of earthquake, tsunami and near nuclear meltdown that has ravaged Japan this month has awakened some of the country’s most familiar disaster narratives. From short stories inspired by previous natural calamities to comic book series based on survivors’ accounts of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, some of these apocalyptic narratives are being evoked by commentators in and outside Japan to draw meaning from the latest catastrophes that have rocked Japan.

These disasters are going to inspire whole new “end of days” narratives. It’s highly doubtful that a stuntman in a rubber suit, stomping through a movie set, is enough to convey the tragedy that has befallen the country.