Atomic Heart is a game set in a Russian utopia. In this world, humans and robots live in harmony until they don’t. Something has happened, be it a tragic accident or something far more sinister, but the result is a seemingly endless army of superpowered robots no longer playing nice and, instead, brutally rebelling against their creators. It’s up to you to stop them and find the answers you so desperately seek.
It’s tough for me to write anything of substance about Atomic Heart because never before have I played a game that blew me away visually and yet left me wanting in every other respect. At its core, Atomic Heart is 2023’s version of the much-loved Bioshock series. Unfortunately, it never manages to live up to the game that so clearly inspired it.
An essential part of any game is its fun factor. Regardless of everything else, can the game tickle something inside of you that makes you want to play it? Well, when it comes to Atomic Heart, there are many things that the game is; A visual marvel, for one, but fun isn’t a word I would use here. Because of that, this game is tough to talk about and recommend to others. Even though visually, I really want to.
There are two main parts to Atomic Heart, combat and comedy – and unfortunately for the game, both feel just as tiring and cumbersome as the other. The humour in the game never manages to feel funny. Instead, it feels like it’s trying to be funny. Think of it as a drunk guy at a party, trying to tell a joke through his own laughter and completely messing up the delivery but still expecting you to catch it and laugh. That’s what the humour is like here.
There are only so many times I can listen to the endlessly horny upgrade robot asking me to “squirt my polymer inside her” before it starts to feel like I’m suddenly 13 again and think “, that’s what she said” is the peak of comedy. Likewise, the combat never quite manages to feel fluid or fun; instead, there is always this feeling of clunkiness and unfamiliarity that has no place in a game that forces combat as often as it does.
Like many of you, I already have a bottomless pit of games I own and plan to play but never get around to. And over the last few months, I’ve been putting an active effort into playing some of those games I’ve let pass by me over the previous few years. There have been some real treasures that I regret not playing on launch. Atomic Heart will never be one of those games, however.
There’s just nothing about the game that makes me want to play it beyond its impressive visuals. The moment the novelty wore off, I would have been happy to put the controller down and walk away had I not been reviewing it. Just a few of the reasons I found myself tiring of the game faster than I would have liked are:
The game’s tiny UI and Font. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I hate nothing more than having to squint at the screen to see what’s happening, and if I have to stand up, I hate it most of all. Unfortunately, that was a constant problem with Atomic Heart, and there are no accessibility options to fix this.
Another immersion-breaking problem that showed the game to be less polished than it appeared at first glance is repeat assets. Now, this comes across in many small ways. Still, the most notable is when you interact with photos only to see multiple people sharing the same face. It’s fine, whatever, but it does show a lack of detail.
And then there’s the antiquated use of slang that makes a futuristic world seem old and dated in the worst possible way. I remember once reading a post about how slang can age something; that is definitely true here. From sound bites like “I’ll just hoof it” to “I’m not some wuss riding a desk” and even “get off my grill”, It’s tough not to feel a sense of displacement against the game’s 1955 futuristic soviet landscape.
Growing up, there was a saying my parents used to use all time “it’s nice from far, but far from nice”, and honestly, that is the absolute best way to describe Atomic Heart. When I first started playing the game, I spent almost a solid hour doing very little, and instead, I found myself just running around and looking at things. I’d be lying if I said Atomic Heart wasn’t one of the most visually stunning games I’ve played on the PlayStation 5.
Every texture, fabric and surface seemed alive and thriving – until they didn’t. There is a jarring discrepancy between how hyper-realistic and detailed the world appears and how little impact anything has on it. Like watching a robot sweep the most beautifully detailed floor I’ve ever witnessed, only for them not to sweep anything up, to watching the most realistic fountain not move any of the water. Even shooting a chair only makes it shift its position instead of becoming marked or broken in any way.
This isn’t something I would consider a deal breaker when it comes to my games, and it’s also not something that usually stands out to me much. Yet, simply because of how Atomic Heart presents itself, it’s hard to ignore that the world is one of the most detailed I’ve explored, but it’s also not.
