Infinite Praise – Talking About Bioshock Infinite

Without question, Bioshock Infinite has proven itself as incredibly troubling to the novice reviewer (played by myself). It’s not that the game is overwhelmingly challenging, or so perfect that I find it difficult to find fault and give a balanced account, but more that every element has been considered and given such attention: making just about everything worthy of mentioning. It’s an overwhelming game to process, but I’m going to try for you, though, because I fucking adore you. Seriously, you don’t even know.

Right from the beginning, perhaps before anything else, the sumptuous audio of Bioshock Infinite envelopes you in a world rendered with stunning amounts of detail. In the opening ten minutes you are treated to an original score that ranges between the discordant, to the playful; through intriguing and majestic. The opening moments of the original Bioshock’s introduction to Rapture are paid homage with a heavenly ascent that accompanies light, disarming piano chimes, fooling you for just one moment into thinking that you have truly arrived in the kingdom of the Lord. This moment, just like pretty much everything else in the game, is testament to Ken Levine’s status as an auteur, someone who’s careful consideration to detail permeates every element of the game.

Heavenly introductions, discordant warnings and the pulse-jacking industrial clang of Sky-Line battles are just but a few notable elements of Infinite’s score, but what truly gives its character  is the creative use of licensed music. As I type this I am still haunted by the flying barbershop quartet that so beautifully executes The Beach Boys God Only Knows.. and the jaunty, carnival rendition of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Not only does Infinite brand these songs with a new and distinct sense of place and character, but it also employs them with an almost Scorcese-like sense of purpose. The song choices punctuate the scenes in which they are used, echoing the sentiments on show and helping to reinforce the science amongst the fiction, something that begins to unravel as you realise just how these songs can exist in 1912.

The very concept of world building is something I had little awareness for until the original Bioshock. The way in which our foray into Rapture showed us the downfall of an entire city, told through the environment itself, was a master stroke, one that has barely been matched since. Infinite’s floating city of Columbia is rendered with altogether brighter tones and sees far less disrepair than we may expect from a Bioshock game. Pageantry and misty-eyed optimism permeate every surface throughout the city: it is a shining homage to the true age of American Exceptionalism. Posters and segregated washrooms tentatively introduce the darkness behind this great nation in the sky, whilst a foray into the city’s industrial district and its shanty town show the stark difference between those who leisurely stroll through Columbia’s floating streets and the ones who make it float in the first place, figuratively speaking.

Columbia is an idealist’s vision cut from an entirely different cloth than the familiar surroundings of Andrew Ryan’s Rapture. Bohemians; Artists; Vanity and the gratifying sense of discovery are replaced with awe-inspiring scale; bright, enriching hues and American splendour. Simply put, Columbia is a world like no other and one that is masterfully crafted from the game’s underlying themes. It only falls short in so much that it feels, at times, slightly less than cohesive. Re-treading your steps through different planes of existence and a lack of assurance as to whether or not you should be scrounging and planning ready for a boss battle will result in more back-tracking than some will be comfortable with. In addition, the often plain, clean textures of Columbia sometimes feel lacking in character and give the environment an unusual, patchwork quality. Without question, this echoes the clean, ideal vision that Columbia’s residents would expect, but there’s also a nagging sensation that out-dated console hardware may be holding back the vision just a little bit.

Gone (largely) is the sense of planning and employment of environmental hazards that formed Bioshock’s basic gameplay. In their place, we have Sky-Lines – a network of overhead rails that connect Columbia’s many floating islands. Originally intended for the transportation of cargo, the city’s youth took to joy-riding them with the soon to be object of many-a-nercraft: The Sky-Hook.

Sky-Hooks add a fresh sense of dynamism to the combat and make Bioshock Infinite a wonderfully kinetic game, when it works. Do you sense the pang of negativity? Brace thyself. Considering myself to be the seasoned player, and given the waning difficulty of games these days, I figured Hard was the difficulty for me. It took several painful buttfuckings for me to realise the error of my ways. As a shooter, using cover and being patient, Bioshock Infinite is most certainly playable on a harder difficulty. However, if you are craving the kind of fluid, energetic combat that I and many gameplay trailers have promised you, just stick to Normal. I suppose it’s something of a recommendation that I have to really try to find a problem with Bioshock Infinite and it’s also worth noting that my problem directly relates to my own shameful failure as a gamer. However, I’ve always insisted that finding the ‘core’ to what makes a game’s systems work and then putting that knowledge to work for yourself is the very essence of video games, or games in general for that matter. Perhaps I’ve read it wrong, and dynamism and momentum aren’t meant to be at the core of Bioshock Infinite’s combat, or maybe I’m just the failure that my parents always feared I’d become.

Overall, I feel that talking about Bioshock Infinite is almost futile. I mean, I’ve busted this out due to a sense of commitment and because I hate getting free games and not giving something back in return. I can’t imagine there’s anybody really on the fence about this game: the odds are that you either wanted to play or are a member of some bizarre gaming subculture that refuses to acknowledge the relentless excellence of Ken Levine and his team at Irrational Games. That said, it seems like my words will either be falling upon deaf ears, or preaching to the choir. Either way, it takes it out of you – I hold little to no challenging opinions concerning this game and as such agree with the rest of the gaming community. I am a fucking sell-out.

I could have just written THIS GAME IS A MASTERPIECE BUT YOU ALREADY KNOW THAT, HOWEVER SOMETIMES THE COMBAT DOESN’T QUITE WORK AND THE SAVE SYSTEM ISN’T PERFECT. Maybe that’s where I need to go – it’ll save us all some time.

What Bioshock Infinite achieves is frankly astonishing. Sure, I feel stupid adding to the chorus of almost overwhelmingly positive responses to it, but there really isn’t a lot else to say. It is a game that excels because it focusses on the kind of details most games don’t make time for. Tacked-on multiplayer, DLC gun skin packs and insultingly formulaic design all too often take presidence over the kind of thoughtful, detailed world-building that Bioshock Infinite excels at. It’s an impressive achievement, just go and play it already.

I applaud you for enduring this existential crisis, I really do.