The sound design is top notch, with many layers of incidental audio bringing Columbia to life. Some of the best bits are so subtle that impatient ears will miss them, like the barbershop quartet doing sweet justice to the Beach Boys' God Only Knows, or the clever Cyndi Lauper infusion later on, and don't worry about the apparent anachronisms: the plot has them covered.
Some of the character sprites are too crude to belong in the amazing world they inhabit and that's a shame, because in most other games they'd have been acceptable. It's hard to accept the wooden movements of the holy folk moving through a serene, hymn-filled chapel ostensibly full of joy and peace. It's written everywhere but on the lifeless faces of the characters within, save for the bully who baptises Booker half to death.
Columbia is a big place and you are propelled along at a reasonable pace at most times. That does slow down at points and, if you're prone to wandering, can mess with your focus. This creates an uneasy feeling when contrasted against he heights this game achieves in other areas.
BioShock Infinite is the first game I have played in a while that feels like it has life-changing depth - something I haven't seen in a game since Final Fantasy VII and, for the record, I'm still playing that one regularly. Like a great novel, film, or record, the game feels dangerous and comforting, compelling and distressing. The dense layers of plot, dialogue, music, visuals, and action are packaged almost without fault. BioShock Infinite feels like it might become an all-time great. History will tell.
Stars: 4.5/5
Platform: Xbox 360, PS3, PC
Rated: R16
- TImeOut