BIOSHOCKED

This may get a little arsey and arrogant in places. I'd like to say I don't intend to be, but in this case I absolutely do. Below is a real look at exactly why I feel BioShock is so criminally underrated by a lot of people who will read this feature, or essay, or whatever you might want to call it. If you don't like BioShock, and you feel I'm being a little heavy in my claiming that you're wrong... well, that's kind of the point. Imagine this blog has turned into the HonestGamers debate society for a while, and this is my opening speech.

Hopefully it'll spark some interesting responses in time for the PS3 version, anyway. Enjoy!

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I got it wrong.

My review of BioShock for the PC was glowing. It's rare for me to enthuse as shamelessly as I did over that title. Now, approaching a year after release and with the PS3 version looming, the reception's worth revisiting. I've spoken to a number of people in preparation for this article, almost all of whom say BioShock is at its finest on first, novel play-through, when the weapon/Plasmid combo tricks are still fresh, when the big plot movements are still unexpected, and when Rapture is still so shocking around every corner. They're wrong too. They aren't looking hard enough, and nor was I. My over-critical analysis did it no justice. BioShock is more special than any of us gave it credit for.

2k Games' masterwork started bouncing around my mind again after reading Mike's review of the X360 version. I read his excellent piece again and again, and what struck me was that we agreed on practically every point other than the overall level of enjoyment provided by BioShock. The only feature we disagreed about was the inclusion of Vita Chambers, which regenerate the player in a nearby location upon death, eliminating the need for frequent saving and loading. Yet Mike, despite awarding a decent score, felt significantly less compelled by the title than I did. Why is this the case? I could never be entirely sure but, having spent weeks considering it, I can present a pretty thorough idea…

"BioShock is no masterpiece," Mike wrote. "It's simply a solid FPS that just happens to look and sound incredible." He got it wrong. We all got it wrong. With a dramatic number of spoilers, here’s why:

BioShock is the first true anti-game in the world. To go with a plot that hinges around a lovely piece of frank satire about the nature of the videogame itself is a brave move, and by informing the player that they are not free to do what they want, are forced down a linear path and will do what they are told without question, BioShock cements its notion right from the start. Complaints about the lack of motive early on, or the inability to wander off around the city, or the fact that much of the gameplay involves completing tasks from people that you really can't be bothered with totally miss the point. You're not supposed to like these things about BioShock. For now, you're supposed to soak up the atmosphere and enjoy the blasting. When Andrew Ryan forces you to kill him with a golf club, you know something's up. Once you've defeated Fontaine in a glorious moment of symbolism, you sit back, and you think. Then you play it all again - and it's magical.

BioShock does essentially demand two plays, and I'll accept this as criticism in a world where many gamers struggle to find the time to blast through a lengthy shooter even once. But the result of this is an astonishingly rich, effortlessly intelligent game that has a strong enough core to remain in people's minds for far longer than almost any other videogame on the market. It's the first game I've ever played where completing it was only the start of my emotional journey with the thing. It made me consider every action I'd taken in Rapture. It made me want to read page after page of interviews with the people who had created this astonishing range of characters. It made me want to go and read classic literature to ensure a better understanding of the world should I choose to return.

Stop. A computer game made me want to read classic literature so that I understood the game better?

Yeah. Exactly.

Rapture is an astonishing place, and the more time I spend there the more I realise it's clearly the greatest videogame setting ever dreamt up. Half-Life 2 pushed the boundaries for 'environment as a narrative device', but BioShock absolutely defines that concept as 'something that just works'. It's almost a shame that we can listen to so many audio diaries that fill in the blanks, but even many of these are presented in a truly brilliant and slightly ambiguous way, allowing us to interpret them ourselves. A fabulous example just before the famous Ryan sequence is one that will stick with me for a long time. "Break that sweet puppy’s neck," Dr. Suchong commands. In floods of tears, a boy obliges. It's shocking at the time, but ten minutes later when you’re struck by the sudden realisation that it was you who killed your pet, it's you who was the mind control subject who's been referenced a few times throughout the game, and it's you who's being used, beyond your control, at this very moment... well. That's just a little bit good.

The world itself, though, is the crowning character of Rapture, explaining a whole lot more than any of the game's NPCs manage. I was speaking to someone recently who'd bought BioShock on my recommendation. A couple of days later, I asked him for his impressions. "It's okay," he said. "It's a lot of fun, but the story's rubbish. I have no idea where I am or what's going on." I was confused, until we spoke more about it. He'd been playing it like a Quake game, finger constantly on the 'forward' button, paying no attention to any of the intricacies BioShock scatters about its universe. Once I pointed them out, he began to understand.

One of the first sights of the game is a huge statue of a man's head, situated above a banner reading "No gods or kings; only man." Practically the next thing you see is one of said men being repeatedly stabbed by some sort of psychotic and mutilated woman. From this point onwards, nothing is shoved in your face, but it's still omnipresent. On my second play-through, I took to spending a good few minutes after slaying any Splicers in each area just soaking up all the detail. The face of Andrew Ryan at every turn, a faux-socialist with an ulterior motive. That picket sign, a protest from the now deceased against their delusional ruler. The reams of posters advertising a product so unethical that it would be frowned upon by the majority even today, let alone half a century ago. The horrific reality of what this advertising is actually saying, beyond its words alone. "Is your daddy as strong as my daddy?" one video clip asks. The fundamental wrongness of this horrific human GM experiment being manipulatively marketed to children is something I didn't pick up on to begin with - but it sure as hell affected my playing style from the moment I realised.

People regularly praise - let's grab a relevant example - the Deus Ex series for being proud and learned enough to actually make a statement. The first game provided a governmental stance, the second a social commentary. Both were considered glorious for doing so, but then each was an open-plan, non-linear, immersive simulation, and that sort of highbrow stuff is what draws people into the genre. I wonder if it's clouded by the fact that BioShock is 'just' a first-person shooter, but it makes enough political statements at both ends of the spectrum to blow the Deus Ex series, along with any other game of its type you may like to mention, completely out of the water. Whenever I actually consider all the dimensions of the plot, I constantly have to remind myself that BioShock is indeed a computer game - an example of the medium most commonly associated with children, but one that has the guts to tell us, in such a horrific and genuine manner, that it doesn't believe socialism works. And then it shows us why, in a more remarkable way than almost anything else you’ll find on the shelves of HMV or Game - or, for that matter, Borders.

Hell, even the fact that, as despicable a man as Ryan is, he's not even the most fundamentally bad character in the game is a gutsy story to tell in itself. It's brave, thoughtful and absorbing at every single turn – and it's so effortless. It's smarter than you or I will likely ever realise.

So all this isn't ingenious because it's a linear game created by a team renowned for non-linear game development? It's worthless because you have to backtrack sometimes? Or because the AI system isn't the finest ever crafted? Or because you can't outright die in this world?

Well, actually, maybe Mike was right. Perhaps it's not a wonderful 'game' per se - but it's important to realise that BioShock is so poignant because of its computerised nature. The film version that has recently been licensed will need to be very careful not to betray this, and at the moment I worry that it may be an impossible task. Movies have no choice but to directly show us stuff. Videogames have the distinct advantage of allowing our own exploration to tell a story. What's more memorable - watching a travel programme, or visiting the country yourself? Crushingly, I can think of only a handful of games that acknowledge the obvious answer to this question, but BioShock is not merely 'one of them', it's the absolute definition of how to implement this idea into a game. And you know what? As a result, it's given me more emotional and philosophical mileage than anything else I've played, seen or read in a long, long time.

Does any of this matter? Who knows? Super Mario Galaxy resides at the opposite end of the spectrum, but in its classic approach lays an equally marvellous game. All of us here will disagree over which direction, if either, the videogame industry should take, but BioShock, finally, provides us with perfect ammunition against those who say gaming is a brain-dead pursuit.

I bet half the people who claim that don't even know what 'Atlas Shrugged' is, let alone how computer games can expand upon it.