Beneath the waves of the Atlantic Ocean, there is a hidden metropolis established by a megalomaniac tired of dealing with the confines imposed on him by the modern world. In the wake of a civil war that tore this city apart are the hordes of Splicers – humans horribly disfigured and disturbed by excessive self-inflicted genetic mutation. Plazas and hallways scarred by war and bedecked with posters advertising the use of these mutagens wait silently for the player, who will upset the stalemate in the battle for supremacy in Rapture and restore some kind of order. But to face the Splicers and expect to stand a chance, the player must do their own share of gene alteration – upgrading the ability to absorb damage, increasing physical prowess and gaining elemental offensive abilities. BioShock does its best to blend aspects of the first-person shooter with projectile spells, stat-boosting, and the point-and-click adventure games of old, creating an environment teeming with ideas inspired by the best of dystopian science fiction literature. It also reveals an engrossing story, and yet another argument against a society governed by an individual’s opinion on what is right without the checks and balances of the status quo. But somewhere among those many blood spattered corridors and in between the creepy ramblings of the 326th splicer I had to fight, the game lost me. Not for lack of interest I had gathered following its complex plot, but in the way it leaves its promise of moral ambiguity untouched, and leaves the player nothing more than an extremely attractive and original first person shooter.

Even though this review is a year late to the party, I can’t assume everyone has played and finished this game. I mention some significant plot points during the course of my analysis that will potentially ruin the entire experience, so please do yourself a favor and stop reading if you plan on playing BioShock eventually.

Another warning: this review is long. It is now the longest review I have ever written for Tales of a Scorched Earth. But that’s never stopped me before.

BioShock was the highest rated PC game of 2007, and one of the highest rated video games to be released in 2007. It received a seemingly endless stream of praise for creating a computer gaming masterpiece. You know, since the last one was released in 2004. Naturally, I felt compelled to experience it for myself to see whether the game would really live up to its reputation. While the high praise for Resident Evil 4 was mostly annoying to me, I actually believed the hype surrounding BioShock to the point where I felt bad for not being able to play it upon release. A number of factors prevented this, but now that I have finished the game one year later I feel that I am able to detach myself from what the popular opinion was at the time and review the game on its merits alone.

First I want to get the whole “spiritual successor” thing out of the way, because it seems to be an unnecessary talking point in every review I’ve read. I know Ken Levine’s past as a designer, and the title may have the word “shock” in it, but let’s be totally clear here: BioShock stands – and should be judged – on its own. Like any other game, it borrows heavily from the merging of different genres, game mechanics and themes that predated it, but I have yet to experience a game that has ever had such tightly controlled art direction. BioShock took the art deco aesthetics of the 1930s and injected them into the completely original setting and subculture of the failed paradise of Rapture. During the game’s introductory level, the moment the television screen in the bathysphere reveals the underwater skyline I was transfixed by the possibilities that lay ahead. Who built this place? Why is it underwater? And what was I getting myself into?

The quotable dialogue, posters and genetic experimentation interspersed through the entire game clearly pull their inspiration from dystopian science fiction and classic Hollywood. The ethereal soundtrack culled from old 1930s recordings echoes off of the walls of the first few rooms you explore that have clearly been ravaged by fighting. The first Splicers you encounter are dressed in party masks that cover their hideous faces. This sensory dissonance implants a real urgency to find out what happened.

However, in response to this initial curiosity the best that BioShock can come up with is a vending machine. That spits out a very grubby looking syringe. That you have to stab into your arm. Suddenly granted with the ability to shoot lighting bolts from your hands, you feel empowered. But that feeling doesn’t last long, because the shotgun and its various ammo types can be just as gratifying.

The use of Plasmids (spells) and Tonics (passive abilities) to enhance your character is one of the game’s focal points, but I felt they were constantly conflicting with the game’s unique selection of weapons and the way they can use different types of ammunition. Plasmids and Tonics can be found in the game, or purchased from another type of vending machine. The Plasmids and Tonics must then be equipped via a Gene Bank, where you can see the inventory of other Plasmids and Tonics you have obtained to that point. Instead of the dramatic syringe-sticking scene at the beginning of the game, once you can purchase new abilities from vending machines, it’s simply a matter of shifting some icons on-screen at the Gene Bank.

If Old Man Murray had the Start to Crate review system, I offer up The Vending Machine Dependency Test. BioShock relies too heavily on vending machines to supply players with everything they need in the game. Another example that immediately comes to mind is the recent Dead Space, which similarly uses vending machines in an environment that’s most unlikely to support them. It overtly expresses the designer’s inability to come up with an interesting or original way to hand over power-ups and weapons. No wonder there was an uprising! Weapons, Plasmids and Gene Modification were readily accessible by any member of Rapture’s community. Finding weapons that have been cast onto the floor, or unused ammo is far more believable in the wake of a civil war than buying things from vending machines that are amazingly still operable after such a violent conflict.

If BioShock wanted to add depth to the game’s mechanics via some light character customization, it does a horrible job of integrating it into the interface. BioShock treats Plasmids like other weapons, in that you can only see active ones alongside your equipped weapons. You can’t see active Tonics, nor can you ever view your other Plasmids unless you go to a Gene Bank. I can understand that this is necessary to equip them (it is do-it-yourself genetic modification), but just to see your inventory? And where do you carry all those weapons and extra ammo? The fact that there is no inventory or other stat-building reiterates how thinly this RPG-lite skin has been stretched over the typical FPS.

Eventually, the RPG elements just seemed to get in the way. They felt only half-realized, and with a full complement of weapons and modest supply of ammo under my belt I didn’t feel as much of a need to upgrade my plasmids or tonics. Certainly Plasmids make dealing with groups of Slicers easier (like Electro Bolt and Frozen Bolt), but they aren’t essential. Most seem like showcases for the designers to show how they can create clever weapons or copy existing ones, like Telekinesis. With all the terrible side-effects from splicing that you see from exploring Rapture, your character remains curiously pure – tainted only by the choice of actions towards Little Sisters in pursuit of ADAM. If Plasmids and tonics can be ignored or consumed with impunity, what purpose do they serve in developing your character?

In this regard, BioShock tries too hard to be deep. As the main character, you slowly discover how your life is central to the history and future of Rapture, and the game desperately wants you to make a connection with the character. This is emphasized by the game’s focus on the RPG-lite elements of Plasmid and Tonic upgrades, and morality play that is constantly paraded in front of you through interactions with Big Daddies and Little Sisters. But like Gordon Freeman in Half Life 2, you say nothing for the entire game – even as you end the life of Rapture’s founder (and your father). This emotional detachment may be one of many statements regarding the game’s interpretation of Objectivism, but I cynically offer the more simple explanation: if Jack didn’t kill Ryan and go running after Fontaine, the game would be over.

While BioShock allows players to save anywhere, they also introduce the feature of Vita-Chambers. These are basically respawn points in each game area that are automatically activated when you are nearby. When you are killed, you are automatically resurrected at these points without having to reload your game. Any ammo you had spent is gone, but if you were fighting a Big Daddy his health bar is exactly where you left it. Through dying and respawning it allows you to wear down tougher enemies that take away most of the challenge. A later patch to the PC version allowed people to turn off the use of Vita-Chambers, but the damage of the original design decision had already been done. Why include them at all? The technology used to create Vita-Chambers is explained in the context of the game world making it somewhat plausible – but why so many installations if it was still in the experimentation stage? I can see if it was to prevent the quick-save-and-reload mentality that often breaks immersion in FPS, but then why not include automatic save points which seem to be accepted by PC gamers? It’s a seamless way to integrate saving in-game, while not allowing players to exploit the system.

I also wasn’t really satisfied with the Hacking mini-game, a real step backwards from the simplicity of System Shock 2. As the game progressed, hacking became an annoying distraction while under fire and I mostly resorted to destroying turrets and cameras, or used Auto-Hacks. Tonics that slow the flow of liquid were good, ones that reduce alarm and shorting tiles are better, but why not a Tonic that decreases the overall number of tiles to make the entire hacking process shorter? I really just wanted to be in the game more, instead of dealing with these tack-ons to the experience.

Linearity and simplicity is not always a bad thing when you’re trying to tell a story with a First Person Shooter; Half Life 2 is a perfect example of this. Sure you were able to carry an entire arsenal of weapons in the back pocket of the Hazard Suit, but the game didn’t focus on how these weapons were arranged on your person or grant you the ability to affix a sniper scope to it. Guns were a defensive necessity for you to be presented with the rest of the story. The meticulous set-up of BioShock’s core mechanics amounts to little more than window dressing on a game that at its core is essentially an unusually beautiful first person shooter.

Lightning proves to be very useful in this game when you’re dealing with enemies that don’t figure out standing around in water results in instant death.

BioShock often collapses under the cumbersome weight of its mechanics, to the point where the narrative flow suffers. I made up my mind early on that BioShock was just a first-person shooter with a more complicated weapons upgrade system, so I decided to focus on the story elements that were being fed to me in between trips to the many vending machines and searching for potato chips and unused EVE in garbage cans. Finding out the rest of the story was really the only reason I kept playing the game.

However, BioShock could have made a more concerted effort in getting plot elements across. Tape recordings can be interesting when used sparingly, and help fill in the gaps between interactions with the main characters of the game, but they shouldn’t be the only method of delivering the plot. There was also too much time spent on how important plasmids were to develop my powers within the context of the game, instead of giving me more information to piece together what is probably a fascinating history for Rapture. Because Gordon Freeman doesn’t speak, Half Life 2 did a great job of integrating newspaper clippings, propaganda posters and random chatter between NPCs as a way of expositing the storyline without forcing you to sit through cutscenes or tape recordings. Although BioShock has its own share of posters that can be pieced together to form what likely happened in the last weeks of Rapture’s organized society, there just wasn’t enough neutral information being provided to make me feel like the game was allowing me to figure things out for myself.

Since tape recordings are so valuable in providing more story, it makes you want to explore the game world itself – the gardens of Arcadia, the twisted artist’s sanctuary of Fort Frolic, the dilapidated apartments of the lower class in Apollo Square. BioShock does its best to make that possible by providing a number of additional sections of each level to uncover, that may only provide a few power-ups or tape recordings but aren’t necessary points that must be visited to proceed. And seeing this paradise gone bad sprawled in front of you make these side trips far from tedious. Every new environment, every blood spattered wall and scattered corpse makes you speculate on what happened. BioShock does its best to disguise your predetermined path.

But why the lack of variety in enemies? While interesting concepts, the Splicers look too much like generic zombies, and the last type of Splicer you will ever see in the game is revealed in the third chapter. Big Daddies are also awesome to behold the first few times, but once I saw them as obstacles to more ADAM they were simply a tin can I had to blow up to get the prize inside.

If only there was more depth to this dynamic than a superficial guilt trip.

BioShock certainly illustrates an original gameworld and absorbing story, but most people who have played the game seem to attribute more to the game’s morality play in the way it presents the ADAM-hoarding Little Sisters, despite it being completely misplaced. Back to the RPG-lite elements: ADAM is an important resource in the game; you need it to purchase new Plasmids, upgrade existing ones, or buff base attributes like Health and EVE. If you choose to focus on developing these abilities through the game, the resource becomes quite critical. In fact, you need it to survive. And that’s where BioShock introduces the Little Sisters.

At one point in the beginning of the game, you witness a Little Sister injecting a Slicer’s corpse with a syringe. It’s a creepy scene that resembles a carrion bird picking through the leftovers of some derelict battlefield. The Little Sister is harvesting genetic material from these corpses, where it will be converted into ADAM by a parasite living inside the Little Sister. You learn this shortly after, when you are presented with a scene where a Big Daddy has been slain and the Little Sister remains. You already know the ADAM is valuable – that’s why all the Slicers are going after Little Sisters and the Big Daddies are required to protect them. You even know at this point that ADAM will be required to get through the game, though how much is the reason for the difficult choice that follows.

Do you kill the Little Sister and harvest the ADAM-rich parasite? Or do you save her, and submit to the possibility that you will eventually be rewarded for your mercy? The game even makes a big deal out of it by presenting a giant dialog box to confirm the choice. At that point, you only have the word of Dr. Tenenbaum to go by. The problem with this setpiece is that you aren’t given specifics for a critical decision that will affect the outcome of the game. Will you still get ADAM? Or something else? It isn’t made clear, and at that early point of the game there is not enough information given to the Player to make an informed decision, especially with ADAM being the most essential resource in the game next to EVE. Or maybe bullets. Since ADAM is needed to progress, the cautious player will always lean towards harvesting the ADAM – it is needed to “level up” the main character. Had Tenenbaum alluded to the quantities of ADAM that would be received (even just outright saying you’ll get half), perhaps players would approach this pivotal scene differently.

However, this is ultimately where BioShock fails as a game that offers up morality for debate. The true effect of that moral choice is limited to this first encounter with a Little Sister, because even if you decide to save her, but still go on to kill Little Sisters for their ADAM, you will be painted as the antagonist for the rest of the game. Thus the choice is detached from a simple resource-collecting mechanic, and ADAM becomes just another item to collect from enemies like money and EVE to get through the game. And make no mistake, by default the Little Sisters are enemies in the context of the game, because at the point I am introduced to the dynamic between Tenenbaum, Ryan and Atlas, I have no idea who to trust. Plus, the Big Daddies are trying to flatten me.

Following the first few frustrating one-sided battles with Big Daddies it is a completely normal reaction to want to get the reward afterwards: lots and lots of ADAM. Any impact of a moral choice or negative reaction in the decision to kill is lost amongst the flying rivets and shattered glass. Kill Big Daddy, harvest ADAM, move on with the rest of the game.

The game is also inconsistent in the way it presents the act of collecting ADAM. The Little Sister will struggle in your grip, the screen goes dark, and the deed is done. The pangs of guilt are supposed to lie beneath the surface, as what you have just done has surely ended the life of the Little Sister, but you don’t know what happened. While I’m not expecting any ultra-violence, this separation of the player from the act that is supposed to make them feel remorse for his actions seems like a cop-out. And near the end of each level, the game itself reminds players that there are unharvested Little Sisters remaining, noting that ADAM is required to survive, or else the game will get difficult. This statement can be taken either way: kill Little Sister – get ADAM, or save Little Sister – get a little bit of ADAM, but it makes the completist in every gamer want to go back and grab the whole lot to maximize the number of Plasmids they can obtain.

After revealing that Ryan is your father, and Atlas is really the nefarious Fontaine trying to gain the final upper hand, you embark on what is little more than a revenge mission to unseat Fontaine. At this point, the game began to unravel. Dr. Tenenbaum gets involved at this point – the creator of Little Sisters and their repentant savior – who assists in your escape through a Little Sister. But why would they help me when I had spent most of the game up to that point harvesting ADAM from them with cold, calculating efficiency? Sure Tenenbaum was upset with me, but then she continues to help me escape Fontaine’s mind control – only so I can roam the streets of Rapture freely again and harvest more ADAM from the Little Sisters. It didn’t matter if I changed my ways after that encounter, as the game’s ending would prove. Between Fontaine’s big reveal and the game’s ending, there was ample opportunity for Jack’s redemption with regard to the Little Sisters, but the game didn’t capitalize on it. Instead, it forces you to dress up like a Big Daddy and pretend to be friend to the Little Sisters, a parody of the entire game’s depth.

The Little Sister escort mission that led me to Fontaine’s base of operations further cemented the game’s disregard for it’s own play on morality and consequence: I let each one of them die every time, and yet I was able to call more to help me without any penalty. It became a series of chaotic firefights where my only priority was saving myself from the waves of ADAM-thirsty Splicers, which became only annoying obstacles, their aura of creepiness long since depleted.

All this, only to be treated to an embarrassing endgame involving a battle with a purple Hulk juiced up on ADAM, where crossbow bolts are more effective than Plasmids. In this battle the Plasmid and Tonic system completely disintegrated, its superficiality thunderously confirmed. After defeating Fontaine, the offensively short ending basically took my character’s actions at face value and labeled me a cold-hearted bastard. From what I have read about the “good” ending, it isn’t much better. The prospect of Splicers on the surface world is surely terrifying, but it offers little closure to Jacks’ story, and like the disappointing ending of Half-Life 2 relies on fan speculation and sequels to answer these perfectly legitimate questions. And for a game that makes such an effort to convince players there are moral implications in the game, it does very little in offering the Player a reward for changing their outlook after Fontaine’s revelation at the middle of the adventure. If your actions prior to the encounter with Ryan predetermine the outcome of the game, the irrelevance of the morality behind harvesting ADAM from Little Sisters is all too apparent.

BioShock was fun to play for a while, and did its best to offer up a genuinely unique single-player experience. I wanted to call BioShock the most overrated game of 2007; the smug bastard inside of me thought that would be the only fitting tribute to this gaming spectacle. But I don’t think that’s very fair, because there is enough going on in this game to elicit the sorts of reactions where people actually have to explain themselves instead of allowing knee-jerk responses to its quality. BioShock approached the threshold of a memorable gaming experience for its story alone; if only it had taken a simpler approach to revealing its strongest attribute. What should have been a captivating adventure devolves into yet another shooter with only token responses to player actions, resulting in a game that is satisfied with only giving the impression that there is something more instead of actually following through on its promise.