Virtue and a Sledgehammer is a brutal look at the messiness of being human.
When I booted up Virtue and a Sledgehammer, I was expecting a fun little “fuck AI” romp as I swung a heavy lump of pain through countless robots and buildings. I pictured endless diatribes of how Silicon Valley has failed us, and the cathartic release that bonking them on the head would surely deliver. Instead I was met with a nuanced and emotionally challenging story that explored generational trauma, parental abuse, what it means to be human, and struggling with debilitating illnesses. My fun “smash the robots” game has now haunted me for over a week, and I doubt I will be ridding it from my conscience anytime soon.
Virtue is a simple game to describe, but a hard one to digest. You fill the role of Pratelle, a woman who has returned to her small hometown in the hills of Spain to get some closure on the non-death of her mother. In this world, many humans have opted to upload their conscience to Android bodies, allowing their personalities to live on forever. Pratelle's mother was one of those who was "reborn" to cheat death, due in part to the fact that your sister Nina, was the founder of this new procedure. Pratelle is not on board with this new dystopian trend, so armed with the titular sledgehammer, she has come home to break some stuff and hunt her sister down.
Everything in Virtue and a Sledgehammer is heavy, from the existential questions that it's three hour run-time is constantly asking the player, right down to how Pratelle moves throughout the world. There is no sprint button. No dodge roll here folks. You simply power walk your way through the quaint town, the rage radiating from your every step, as you hold the trigger button to charge your swing to smack Androids in the face, and knock down entire structures to progress throughout the world.
Notice how I didn't say enemies? That's because everything in Virtue feels like a point of self-reflection. Some of the Androids will march towards you with a protective swagger, shouting your name and trying to tear you limb from limb. Those ones are definitely enemies. But others. They will cower at the mere sight of you. They will try and reason with you. They are going about their new lives, talking about how they are so happy they don't have to deal with the ongoing pain and suffering from life debilitating illnesses in these new bodies, and the game sets you up in such a way that you will probably smack them into oblivion too, despite the fact that those ones aren't trying to hurt you. They are just trying to exist. To flourish. To love.
While I loved this push and pull on my empathy, I feared that I had traded in my thoughts of the anti-AI establishment in for an eye rolling "oh, I am the bad guy here" vibe. But then I was hit with a very distinct moment around the middle of the game (in the graveyard for those of you who have already played) where Virtue surprised me for a second time, as it started to show the real ramifications my rage and destruction were bringing into this town. Was this even a question of right and wrong? Of good and bad? I wasn't even sure anymore.
The main form of momentum in the story is via memory fragments spread throughout the town. If you see a glistening form suspended in air, a heavy thunk from your hammer will break the reality and showcase a flashback sequence to Pratelle and Nina's past where you will be an active participant, choosing Pratelle responses. Each and every one of these scenes was meaningful, and by the end of the the three hours the hauntingly beautiful story of this family who had been through so much, really created a a strange mix of horror and hope that has stayed with me long after the credits rolled.
Not since 1000X Resist have I been so impressed with the cinematic presentation of a game. While it could be easy to write Virtue off as yet another PS1-era nostalgia grab, the expressive nature of the characters, the artistic direction of the world, particularly the machinery and Androids, and the cinematic framing of the shots all meld together to create something that is a step above most others in this space. When you back that up with a dreamy soundtrack from longtime Deconstructeam collaborator fingerspit into that mix, it all feels like a dark dreamscape that you don't want to leave, but you aren't exactly comfortable being there either.
There are a few things that grew rather tiresome by the end of the game however, that I personally think are worth dealing with for the narrative delivery, but also should be pointed out. The "combat" if you could call it that, really leaves a lot to be desired. The hostile androids tend to swarm you, and with no dodge or sprint available, it kinda feels like a slog to deal with. Your sledgehammer has three power levels - a quick tap of the trigger does a bunt to shove the enemies away, a medium charge will bonk them pretty good and kill many of them, and then fully charging and lifting the hammer over your head does a powerful AOE attack. While the hammer feels SO good when knocking down walls, having to fully charge that swing to kill one Android who is crawling on the ground to scratch your achilles heel doesn't feel good. Or elegant. Or exciting. Also towards the middle of the game they introduce a beefy Android that will only go down if you do a full charged hit, and it honestly was more annoying than it was challenging.
The world design was also a little rough at times. Piles of shrubbery, shipping containers, and chain link fences make a very organic world all of a sudden feel less organic. In a game where you are literally using a powerful hammer to knock down the walls of buildings to access new areas, it feels really strange that you can level and entire house like it is made from straw, but you can't smush down some berry bushes to get to where you need to go. A minor gripe, but it's something I couldn't stop thinking about.
But that was quickly overruled by the impact of this story. Virtue and a Sledgehammer is more than an anti-AI story. It explores concepts that you would never expect from a game that is about hitting things with a hammer. It is not exactly a fun game, but it has the courage to explore themes and ideas that hold a mirror to a lot of the fears and anxieties a lot of people are facing in the world right now. It is a cathartic expression of rage, backed up by a heavy emotional weight that we just don't see that often in games. If that sounds like something you are prepared to experience, you are in for a hauntingly beautiful time.
★★★★☆
Recommended
Developed by Selkie Harbou & Deconstructeam
Platforms: PC
Steam page
