Disco Speculi
One of the first things you do in Disco Elysium is look into a mirror. You don’t know who’s staring back. You have an expression on your face you will probably try, and probably fail, to get rid of. That is what you will do for the entirety of the game: look at the world, which is a mirror of Harry’s — the protagonist’s — alcohol addled brain, and try to make sense of what stares back. The fundamental premise of most RPGs is that as you progress you become better at killing, healing, defending, etc. In Disco, as you interact with the world you become better at understanding just what kind of animal is looking doe-eyed at the mirror. You pet mailboxes or spinkick fascists and become further and further attuned to every ultrabright billionaire in shipping containers or rustling of the wind on the dilapidated sea shore. Experience points go towards increasing skills with names like “esprit de corps” and “electrochemistry” and “inland empire”, which are all voices in your head that will, when appropriate, interject into the game’s dialogue and push you towards one or the other choice, as well as help succeed in relevant skill checks. The skills act as a greek chorus staffed by your worst vices and most inscrutable habits. Electrochemistry wants you to feel the thrill of a drug rushing up your spine, Esprit De Corps reminds you that you are cursed to be a cop, Inland Empire gets you in tune with your horrid necktie. Disco Elysium’s point is that when we look into a mirror we never really know what we see, and that’s fine. That’s human. We are incoherent beings lulled by a thousand voices in our heads, trying to figure out our place in the universe.
