A game that recklessly engages with the impossible through pure Spielbergian bombast, embodied as a cacophonous display of constantly moving variables. Unwieldy in its power and scope but undeniably contains some of the most breathtaking visual/aural spectacle ever devoted to the medium. Despite the Emporia section feeling mostly superfluous, this fixes Bioshock's drab third act dilemma and finds creative ways to open up its combat in a manner that feels intuitive and increasingly chaotic (despite some tiring enemy types). Those looking for concrete answers with its flimsy politics or consistency with its maze like plot logic may as well move on because Levine and his team are more fascinated with how these thematic devices feed into the machinations of an indelibly romantic and contemplative blockbuster mold. It feels boundary pushing in every regard and its a shame its reputation has been diminished over the years. For every bit as brutally wonky and ostentatious as it is, it's just as much genuinely poignant with its fixation on gradual world building from beginning to end. For any misgivings I may have right now its pleasures feel like the stuff of dreams.