The sequel to Deus Ex has always had an important use. Find any community of PC gamers and suggest to them that Invisible War was actually pretty good and you are guaranteed a few hours of cheap entertainment. The game is hated by Deus Ex fans, to the point that many will repeatedly announce that no, it definitely doesn’t exist. Unfortunately having finally played through it this month as part of my “ohmygodDeusEx3!” preparation, I find myself in an unfortunate position. You see it turns out that Invisible War is actually pretty good.

Only “pretty good,” which isn’t exactly universal praise. It has a whole list of very obvious problems. For starters it’s incredibly easy. While you still get to choose your approach – aggression, stealth, subverting electronic defences or usually a mixture of all of the above – it’s so much easier to execute your plan without a hitch. That means you miss out on improvising your way out of a situation gone wrong, something that led to my favourite moments of Deus Ex. The one exception to this is attempting to be non-lethal. The electric prod no longer offers the chance of an instant takedown – a casualty of the lack of situational damage – and while a tranquilizer dart gets the job done (eventually) it feels messy, unskilled and ultimately unrewarding.
Environments are also disappointing. Invisible War suffers from that peculiar mid-2000s console-port issue of narrow, smaller areas filled with chunky objects. While Deus Ex was never a contender in the beauty stakes, it did at least have a well realised sense of place. The difference is subtle but can be seen in every corridor, street and room. In Invisible War the world is there for the player to inhabit; in Deus Ex the player inhabited a world that was there. This only becomes more pronounced in the last level, when protagonist Alex ‘D’ (can you guess that plot twist) visits one of the first game’s most iconic areas. It’s dull and lifeless, full of moments where you recognise the specific area they’re referencing but realise your imagination is doing most of the work. This game was an early victim of the trend for achieving parity between console and PC versions by not fully utilising the capabilities of PCs of the time.

Such simplification isn’t limited to the technical specifications. Most of the game’s systems are reduced in complexity. While some changes are hard to get upset about – removing lockpicks in favour of multitools with universal application – others significantly reduce meaningful choice. Skills, previously the most striking means of character customisation, are completely gone. Some, such as hacking, move over to the Augmentation system while others – most noticeably weapon proficiency – are removed entirely. As such you’re free to completely switch up your arsenal with no penalty to the effectiveness of certain weapon classes. The only thing tying you to your existing weapons are the modifications you’ve enabled in them but before long you’ll have so many spare upgrades that it’s never a problem to load them into something new.
The same is true of Augmentations. While each enhancement is still tied to a body part, now with a third illegal black-market Augmentation available per group, the canisters are universal and, like the weapon mods, so prolific that it’s possible to entirely respec your character. Of course it’s debatable whether this is a bad thing. After all Deus Ex is a series about choice, so why not let you choose to change your play style on the fly? Well I’d argue Deus Ex was about the consequences of the choice you make. While those still exist on the story level, they’re almost entirely absent on the player level.
The most disappointing removal is the level of incidental detail available to discover throughout the world. There are no more emails to hack into and while there are books and datapads around the levels, none go into as much depth about state of the world and characters outside of what the player sees. Also each character you meet has less depth to their personality. In Deus Ex I knew who loved orange soda. (Gunther loved orange soda!) I couldn’t tell you a single quirky personality trait of any of the new characters in Invisible War.

Also, they removed leaning. I’m nitpicking now, but playing a stealth character and sidestepping your entire body around a corner to see any guards just feels ridiculous.
Wait… I’m meant to arguing the game is actually pretty good. Okay, so you’ll have noticed that all the above criticisms can be summed up as “when compared to Deus Ex…” That’s fair enough, it is the sequel, it’s inviting the comparison. And when compared to Deus Ex it does all those things wrong. The same comparison also shows it doing some things right though. For instance, DX was actually pretty rigid in the execution of the main story. The defection from UNATCO to the NSF was a fixed event that just happened without ever really justifying itself. While it was increasingly apparent that UNATCO were Up To Something, there was never anything to suggest the NSF weren’t simply a terrorist organisation until some time after you’d joined them.
Invisible War presents a similar opening of opposing factions, but never forces the player’s hand. Throughout you’re free to join whichever side you please or, if you’re anything like me, decide they’re all as bad as each other and follow your own admittedly broken moral compass. Even once a third obviously antagonistic faction emerges you’re still given the option of ultimately siding with them. They openly despise everything you represent and clearly following their plans is a terrible idea, but you can do it. The game is still blunt in its political agenda, but it achieves its message by showing you the consequences of your story choices rather than not letting you make them.

Then there are the wonderful side missions. They’re entirely based around two warring chains of coffee shops and are completely and utterly stupid. Two warring corporate entities? Who gives a shit? Actually, I gave a shit because it was a great opportunity to play both sides against each other. In the opening hub of the game I betrayed and robbed as many people as I could, accepting a mission from one coffee shop owner after I’d already trashed his stock then going back to accept payment from his rival while simultaneously screwing him over. What’s so refreshing about this is that no side is inherently good or evil so there’s no moral handwringing involved in such blatant self-interest. When I left the area I was happy in the knowledge that everyone’s day had got that much worse. And as inconsequential as the side missions are, they stop just as the main story reaches pace, never expecting you to give a crap about the plight of local businesses when the world actually looks to be in peril.
That main story is essentially an epilogue of the three resolutions of Deus Ex. While it makes the completely bizarre decision to assume that all three of the original’s endings happened – something that could only make sense if you picked a specific (read: the correct) one, and even then not really – it explores each in a much fuller depth. Sure, it’s disappointing to realise that you’re essentially making the same three choices again, but here the entire crux of the narrative gives you the understanding of how those choices will ultimately effect humanity. Consequently the second time around it’s a much harder choice to make.

For all its faults – and for all its successes – Invisible War is still a game about choice. Choice about the fate of humanity, choice about your relationships with characters and the factions they represent and that moment-to-moment choice of how you want to play the game. All those choices are still present and that’s important to keep in mind. A question: how did the design lessons of Deus Ex filter into the wider world of first-person shooter design? The answer is they didn’t. Shooters became even narrower in focus; they became more scripted, more linear and more gated. The most meaningful decision players faced in another shooter celebrated for intelligent story and player freedom was whether or not to murder little girls for slightly more gene-enhancing goo than if they didn’t. As vilified as it is, Invisible War still offers more player agency and subtle decision making than any FPS not called Deus Ex.
If you’re still not convinced then at least do the honourable thing and give Invisible War the metaphorical tip of the hat when you load up Human Revolution. Because Ion Storm made a sequel that was actually pretty good and yet it was hated by fans. It made it clear to whoever took up the series next that they would have to aim even higher. Luckily, if the reviews are to be believed, Eidos Montreal did exactly that.



Nice piece, better than Denby’s recent love letter. You’re still wrong, ofcourse – IW is pretty horrible.
To me the whole thing of choice never was all that important, at least not on a story level. Tactical choice was, but even more urgent was the believability and immersion of the game world. IW’s world is not just disappointing, it’s an abject failure. That to me makes the game overall a failure.
My problem with Invisible War was that when people stood still, it looked like they had balloons attached to their arms. It was too weird.
http://www.gamezone.com/images/gamezone/18/7/92/s18792_pc_11.jpg
I played this on Xbox as I didn’t have a PC at the time… and found it unaccountably dull. Not bad, exactly, but I really had no clue as to what was going on.
Although Kieron Gillen’s “…its all over!” PCG piece – the review of DE:IW in interpretative dance – made me laugh so much. Odd why I remember that more than anything that happened in the game…
qrter: Thanks. That’s a fair criticism about the game’s world. I guess in the end it comes down to what you want from the game. If you’re looking for a rich immersive world then yes, IW can’t hold up. It bothered me – especially in levels like Germany where the hub is essentially one narrow street – but I guess I was more drawn to those narrative and tactical choices, so was less bothered by it.
Craig: My problem was that when people stood still they had a tendency to set themselves on fire.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3vTtcXF0nkM
Steve: Interesting that you found it dull. The only problem I had towards that end was right near the end as they started to introduce the super-soldiers with a single weak-spot, something that my character build up to then wasn’t built to deal with. (Which actually sort of parallels your article on choice.) They became so tedious that I basically spent the entire last level using the cloak Aug and just walked right past all the enemy patrols.
That’s what I meant by “unaccountably”, I just couldn’t seem to get into it. By Cairo, I had simply lost interest.
Again, though, I think I probably under-specialized, which left me with very few options. Meh, at least I don’t get yelled at for not liking IW…
Bit of a late to the party response here.
I certianly think that some of the stick Invisible War gets is a bit unfair. It’s definitely an alright game, but merely being alright is part of the problem when Deus ex was so good.
I agree with some bits of this article and disagree with others. For me you actually sell the Coffee Wars side quests short. They weren’t inconsequential, in that they perfectly parallel the main plot of the game and as such actually reveal the mid game twist (if you hadn’t already guessed it). It’s reasonably clever and makes participating in them feel rewarding.
Also while you’re right to praise its efforts in offering story choice (even if the endings in particular were perhaps all a tad too bleak in tone) I absolutely disagree about the opportunity to side with the Templars being a positive point of the game. For me this choice is so blatantly incongruous that it just makes me wonder what the hell the story writers were thinking. If they’d presented them in less of a cartoonishly vilainous way then perhaphs . . . perhaps you could just about have a reason for siding with them (though even then it may have been a stretch). However their open hatred of you and the way they act and the fact that you have been fighting them the whole way through without even a chance for you to avoid doing so completely flies in the face of them even attempting to recruit you let alone you agreeing. If I had been their leader I wouldn;t have gone near Alex with a gigantic rocket launcher, let alone have expected a civil discussion! Daft, the whole thing.
While it the coffee shop subplot was a clever mirror, I just wasn’t satisfied with the payoff. It felt as if it was missing an extra chapter. This is probably a reflection of how much I enjoyed screwing with them. The revelation that I wasn’t having an impact at all diminished that.
As for the templars, I’d say it makes sense that their leader approaches you. He’s classic Machiavellian scheming (which isn’t to say he’s well written, you’re right – far too cartoonish) and is finding himself in an increasingly precarious position as Alex in cabal with either the Illuminati or JC unravel his plans. So it’s in his nature to try and manipulate Alex. And his ending hints that he executes her (or him) along with other Augmented humans, confirming he is just playing all odds to achieve his ends.
And while he is clearly overbearingly evil, there’s an appeal to truth he’s spinning. Essentially he’s the extreme conclusion of Tracer Tong’s Collapse ending in the first game. I’d argue the JC and Illuminati endings weren’t “bleak” more… uncomfortable. Both end with universal peace but at the cost of something innately human; either individuality or freedom. The Templar are selling the promise of that humanity. It’s mishandled sure, and not nearly as subtle as it needs to be, which is definitely a problem, but I was a glad the choice was there just so I could definitively reject it instead of being told I had to.