EUREKA!
Jazzpunk is a joyous, comedic ode to history: of games, of music, of film, of comedy, of civilization. Its sleuthy Cold War setting clashes with a cartoonish cyberpunk visage, which recalls Gravity Bone by way of the Marx Brothers. However, what could have been an exercise in political satire instead proves a masterpiece of subversive pop.
Whereas The Stanley Parable (a game similarly determined to think one step ahead of the player at every turn) proves a one-note, self-congratulatory farce, Jazzpunk is a walking sim which delights in the beauty of the mundane, exaggerating every trope and archetype it borrows from various media to create an endlessly delightful and unique vision. It is a game of juxtapositions; a genuinely artistic artifact which bridges the past and the future, music and movement, Lifelessness and stimulus. It's a game that strives to make the player laugh, whenever possible. A game where the player can't walk five feet without seeing another wild but clever gag. One's face is sure to hurt by the time the credits roll -- I wore a smile the whole way through.
Jazz and punk are two definitive American music genres, both at the forefront of their prospective eras; artists reconfigure the rules of songwriting in nearly antithetical ways. Jazz thrives on technical improvisation; punk strips a band down to its bare essentials and speaks in rudimentary rhymes. Jazzpunk, the game, proves sophisticated and joyously straightforward in its intentions, a true rarity within a medium gradually growing defined by technical and dramatic progress.
The basic spy caper plotting allows the developers at Necrophone Games to toss as many ideas into the pot as possible (notice the word 'pun' is right there in the title), filling each of the handful of maps with a bevy of content to peruse. The game is at its worst when relying on random, goofy dialogue interactions to pass the time; but at its best when spontaneous film references and inspired content transport the player through a simulated archive of historic video game influences. This is self-aware humor done right: not condescending, not bloated, but placed on an even playing field with the audience, in order to subsequently serve as a sort of commentary on the medium at large, whether intentional or not.
From "retiring" a group of "Realplicants," to aiding a gang of cyberpunk femmes in a bank robbery with a snot-gun; from entering the wrestling ring with a polygonal Randy Savage-clone, to entering cyberspace after being drugged and kidnapped by the self-proclaimed antagonists; Jazzpunk never stops surprising, all the way through to its reptilian, gastrointestinal finale, capping off a sequence in which the bad guy is thwarted by his own inflated ego (a fitting response to the Davey Wredens and Neil Druckmanns of the games industry). When times are tough, make 'em laugh.
Jazzpunk is a joyous, comedic ode to history: of games, of music, of film, of comedy, of civilization. Its sleuthy Cold War setting clashes with a cartoonish cyberpunk visage, which recalls Gravity Bone by way of the Marx Brothers. However, what could have been an exercise in political satire instead proves a masterpiece of subversive pop.
Whereas The Stanley Parable (a game similarly determined to think one step ahead of the player at every turn) proves a one-note, self-congratulatory farce, Jazzpunk is a walking sim which delights in the beauty of the mundane, exaggerating every trope and archetype it borrows from various media to create an endlessly delightful and unique vision. It is a game of juxtapositions; a genuinely artistic artifact which bridges the past and the future, music and movement, Lifelessness and stimulus. It's a game that strives to make the player laugh, whenever possible. A game where the player can't walk five feet without seeing another wild but clever gag. One's face is sure to hurt by the time the credits roll -- I wore a smile the whole way through.
Jazz and punk are two definitive American music genres, both at the forefront of their prospective eras; artists reconfigure the rules of songwriting in nearly antithetical ways. Jazz thrives on technical improvisation; punk strips a band down to its bare essentials and speaks in rudimentary rhymes. Jazzpunk, the game, proves sophisticated and joyously straightforward in its intentions, a true rarity within a medium gradually growing defined by technical and dramatic progress.
The basic spy caper plotting allows the developers at Necrophone Games to toss as many ideas into the pot as possible (notice the word 'pun' is right there in the title), filling each of the handful of maps with a bevy of content to peruse. The game is at its worst when relying on random, goofy dialogue interactions to pass the time; but at its best when spontaneous film references and inspired content transport the player through a simulated archive of historic video game influences. This is self-aware humor done right: not condescending, not bloated, but placed on an even playing field with the audience, in order to subsequently serve as a sort of commentary on the medium at large, whether intentional or not.
From "retiring" a group of "Realplicants," to aiding a gang of cyberpunk femmes in a bank robbery with a snot-gun; from entering the wrestling ring with a polygonal Randy Savage-clone, to entering cyberspace after being drugged and kidnapped by the self-proclaimed antagonists; Jazzpunk never stops surprising, all the way through to its reptilian, gastrointestinal finale, capping off a sequence in which the bad guy is thwarted by his own inflated ego (a fitting response to the Davey Wredens and Neil Druckmanns of the games industry). When times are tough, make 'em laugh.