Very fun game! Unconventionally conventional, I say. Policenauts wears its influences on its sleeve, unashamedly, and the result is something that feels like a celebration of its source material rather than a cynical rehash of familiar ideas. The game's premise alone is almost enough for me to call it an instant-classic: set in the future, humanity is finally on the brink of genuine space colonization. An elite set of police officers are chosen from across the globe to serve as the first (and exemplar) members of the Policenauts -- space cops, basically. The protagonist, Jonathan, is on a routine spacewalk when suddenly, his space suit detaches from the station, and he's lost to space for the next 25 years. Turns out, he was able to go into cryogenic sleep all that time, and when he wakes, everyone he knows -- his partner Ed, his (now ex-) wife, Lorainne -- they're all 25 years older, where he's the exact same. This is the context for the game's opening, and it's just so campy that I can't help but love it.
The game was equally capable of being funny as it was emotionally engaging, without one encroaching on the other's territory; within an hour of the game, I'd methodically inspected every item on the protagonists' desk, reading his melodramatic, boomer, man-out-of-time comments about how much the world has changed, how his bills are stacking up, and how no one knows how to do things "the old-fashioned way." It's equally effective as a world-building technique as it is hilariously over-dramatic. (I choose to read it as tongue-in-cheek.) Shortly thereafter, however, your ex-wife enters the room and suddenly the game is able to command your attention and have you take the events seriously, even though it was just making you laugh. It's a really astounding feat how many sensations the opening of the game is able to inspire.
There are some major turn-offs that some people won't be able to get over, such as the casual homophobia and sexism, or the dated controls (things a remake could easily solve, Konami) but for those of us who are willing to but up with it all, there's a fun 12~ hours of classic-Kojima storytelling and game design.
The game was equally capable of being funny as it was emotionally engaging, without one encroaching on the other's territory; within an hour of the game, I'd methodically inspected every item on the protagonists' desk, reading his melodramatic, boomer, man-out-of-time comments about how much the world has changed, how his bills are stacking up, and how no one knows how to do things "the old-fashioned way." It's equally effective as a world-building technique as it is hilariously over-dramatic. (I choose to read it as tongue-in-cheek.) Shortly thereafter, however, your ex-wife enters the room and suddenly the game is able to command your attention and have you take the events seriously, even though it was just making you laugh. It's a really astounding feat how many sensations the opening of the game is able to inspire.
There are some major turn-offs that some people won't be able to get over, such as the casual homophobia and sexism, or the dated controls (things a remake could easily solve, Konami) but for those of us who are willing to but up with it all, there's a fun 12~ hours of classic-Kojima storytelling and game design.