surface. A gun. Barging past the goon in my face, I pick up
the pistol and let off a few rounds into his chest. It’s an
ugly spectacle. There’s no action movie feedback, no
ragdoll pinwheeling across the terrain – just a man
slumping onto concrete. I swap his loaded gun for my
empty one, and run on.
Before long I’ve developed a nasty pattern – shooting a
cop dead wherever they rear their masked head, before
swapping my weapon for the one they’ve left flush with
ammo. There’s no way to know how many bullets I’ve got
left: in accordance with the style of the time, Mirror’s Edge
rejects UI altogether,
leaving the screen empty of
distractions. But the pistols
tend to click uselessly after
just a handful of shots, and
there’s no way of storing
clips, so I’ll need to find
new guns regularly if I’m
to stay armed.
I murder my way to the
comms tower, where my
partner Celeste awaits.
“They’re playing rough, Cel,” Faith warns as she hands
the bag over. Back in Mirror’s Edge’s day, this is what we
referred to as ludonarrative dissonance – the disconnect
between a game’s script and the way you play it. If the
copsarerough,I’mplayingfarrougher.
smashing the mirror
You can learn a lot about a game by breaking it. I’ve
played Mirror’s Edge for years, but only by opting out of
its constant forward momentum have I started to
appreciate how it works. It’s not just the rooftop furniture
of the game’s levels that are designed to boost you forward
- every successfully landed wall jump or pipe vault adding
to your acceleration. The same is true of the script, the
soundtrack, and the enemy placement. All of these
I muRdeR my WAy To
The comms ToWeR,
WheRe my PARTneR
celesTe AWAITs
elements are deployed with careful timing to provide
the wind for your sails, a series of convincing reasons to
keep running all the way to your endpoint. I’ve every
reason to believe that the devs at DICE would make
fantastic personal trainers.
As I leap to this level’s final rooftop, I can see how it’s
supposed to go. The news chopper, having made its story
happen, is here to film it. A SWAT team arrives stage
right, intended to funnel me over the lip of building. The
helicopter draws level with the roof, its nearest landing
skid glowing red – a sure sign, in Mirror’s Edge’s colour-
coded world, that it’s part
of the path.
“I don’t care how you
get off that roof, Faith,”
Merc prods. “Just do it.”
These Truman Show-
esque performers aren’t
opponents at all.
They all want me to do
the same thing – flee from
the SWAT, their bullets
raising this moment to
dramatic climax as I leap for the rail of the helicopter.
Fade to black, next level. But those aren’t my rules. I’m
going to have to fight.
The rooftop is designed for a quick escape, not for
hiding, but I use the sparse cover offered by fans and
pipework to lure the enforcers into open space, darting
out for jabs when it’s safest. If I was a playtester, DICE’s
designers would be swearing quietly over my shoulder.
Just once I glimpse a flash of red – an opportunity to
grab an assault rifle – but I miss my split-second window.
Instead I manage to slide-kick and side-swipe my enemies
senseless, leaving a strange silence. The news copter still
hovers obediently in the air. I’ve given them one hell of a
broadcast and with all of us at the mercy of this new
playstyle, there’s no telling what’ll come next episode.EXTRA LIFE
NOW PLAYING I UPDATE I MOD SPOTLIGHT I GUIDE I HOW TO I diary (^) I REINSTALL I MUST PLAY
It’s the mirror! From the title!
It all makes sense!