The Silver Case, ultimately, begs the player to be critical. To be critical of government, police, and most importantly of one's self. What does it mean to commit a crime, when the governments that define "crime" are themselves criminal? Since completing this game, I've been constantly thinking about the case Lifecut. About how the masks of the Heinous Crimes Unit slowly slip away, revealing that despite their apparent individuality, they are nothing but pawns to be used for the higher powers surrounding the story. They side with the law, and die for it. They die to protect the truth of their master's misdeeds, and commit criminal acts without being labeled "criminal". It's only by embracing that which is deemed "wrong" by society that one is able to kill their past.
The Silver Case lauds individuality, but also depicts how dire the need for community is in a world shaped by the Internet. Tokio Morishima starts his half of the game as a person who is largely squandering his potential to be great. He sits in his shabby apartment, checking his email, chain smoking and talking to his turtle. It is only through his connections with Erika and the bartender at Jack Hammer that he is able to reach his true potential. He transforms from a slimy tabloid reporter into an almost sagely presence in Lifecut. He rejects the Internet, and finds what really matters in the real world.
It’s really hard to wrap my head around the insane amount of themes and images invoked in this game. This game has my utmost recommendation to anyone with the patience to keep up with a visual novel created in 1999.
“I feel weird. Someone died in my building, but I didn’t see it. I didn’t hear the sound, I wasn’t told by someone else living here: I first knew of it via my computer. It doesn’t feel real.”
- Tokio Morishima, Hana
The Silver Case lauds individuality, but also depicts how dire the need for community is in a world shaped by the Internet. Tokio Morishima starts his half of the game as a person who is largely squandering his potential to be great. He sits in his shabby apartment, checking his email, chain smoking and talking to his turtle. It is only through his connections with Erika and the bartender at Jack Hammer that he is able to reach his true potential. He transforms from a slimy tabloid reporter into an almost sagely presence in Lifecut. He rejects the Internet, and finds what really matters in the real world.
It’s really hard to wrap my head around the insane amount of themes and images invoked in this game. This game has my utmost recommendation to anyone with the patience to keep up with a visual novel created in 1999.
“I feel weird. Someone died in my building, but I didn’t see it. I didn’t hear the sound, I wasn’t told by someone else living here: I first knew of it via my computer. It doesn’t feel real.”
- Tokio Morishima, Hana