Taking a tumble with DICE’s extraordinary action game.

The firstperson perspective should mean something. That’s the message you can take from Mirror’s Edge, Digital Illusions ‘character-based action game’. It’s a mixing of the thrills of thirdperson violence from the eyes of your character: even when quick-punching or slide-kicking your way through a totalitarian regime, or double-jumping across a grim corporate skyline, that firstperson view never breaks. In Mirror’s Edge, it appears that your context is everything.

So: the context. The game takes place in a city under authoritarian regime. The city is comfortable and peaceful. But non-conformists of any shape or political shade are routinely criminalized, deported or imprisoned. With all electronic communication routinely monitored, organization of resistance sits in the hands of couriers, runners like player character Faith.

And running is the first problem. Few games dare give their characters the weight and momentum of a human, few dare simulate. Instead, the best we get is flashy animation systems like Assassin’s Creed, in which Altaïr can spin on the spot without complaint. No firstperson shooters bother; from Samus to Gordon Freeman, movement is simply a case of changing the position of the camera.

Which is why, initially, Mirror’s Edge is so dizzying. Not disorientating, but dizzying in the way that your brain begins to process the potential and starts enjoying the rolling, fleet-foot chases.

Owen O’Brien, Mirror’s Edge’s senior producer, begins his demonstration with the heroine standing on the edge of a skyscraper, high above the city, an almost infinite vertical between Faith and her ultimate destination – a comms tower where she’s to pass on a rucksack of critical communiqués. That’s fine: Faith just runs up to the edge of a red-hued crane, and slides down. As she reaches the end she leaps, somersaults and lands, still rolling, preserving her momentum. Faith is still running.

The next problem: fences and pipes, the machinery of the modern city. Faith doesn’t stop. By pressing down she slides. Pressing up helps her latch on. At full sprint, she needs little coaxing or twitchy stabs at the pad. All movement is controlled by just a few simple button presses. The pipes are simple – they’re ducked. The fences are leaped. A long gap is barely thought about – O’Brien simply wall-runs Faith across the edge without pause. It looks simple and utterly liberating – a long, long way beyond the jumping puzzles and crate shifting to which we’re so accustomed.

Faith’s progress is helped by two simple visual cues. Items that are useful, like ledges or outcropping machinery, are marked in red. The rest of the world is seen in a cool white or blue. Where you want to go, or what you want to use, dramatically stands out. O’Brien explains that the inspiration for the palette came from cinema. “We looked at the Bourne films. Bourne sees the world differently. Where the rest of us sees a pen, he sees a lethal weapon,” he says. Where we see ledges, Faith sees routes.

The second cue? “Runner Vision.” O’Brien pauses. “TM,” he clarifies. “It’s our version of bullet-time. It’s useful for better timing your jumps and handholds.” As he talks, Faith takes a running jump, across yet another vertiginous gap. At the last possible moment, as a news helicopter circles, Runner Vision activates. O’Brien slams up. Faith grabs out on to a drainpipe, which wobbles but holds. Held breaths are gently exhaled.

Faith starts running again. But the news ’copter has alerted the authorities. It’s now time for Faith to fight. O’Brien describes Mirror’s Edge as a “full-body experience, not a firstperson shooter”. That’s why Faith doesn’t carry a weapon – she can pick up guns from the fallen, but most of the time she’ll fight with her fists and instincts. It’s as much fleeing the violence as it is inflicting it. As she rounds a corner, she’s spotted. Five police officers turn, their guns trained. “Don’t you dare move. Don’t come closer,” one yells.

moscalloutDoors aren’t opened, but barged through at speed. Corners are whipped around, and oblivious guards are tumbled as Faith slides, taking their legs from under them./moscalloutO’Brien looks around. He’s not approaching them, and they’re holding back. There is another pause, as the standoff develops. Then, a flurry of action. A staircase is leaped, rounds ping off the banister, and Faith flees. Doors aren’t opened, but barged through at speed. Corners are whipped around, and oblivious guards are tumbled as Faith slides, taking their legs from under them. The chase is on.

One guard manages to land a shot – Faith’s vision blurs and she stumbles for a moment, as if she’s been punched. O’Brien guides her around a balcony and doubles back to swiftly kill the guard, steal his gun and then coolly execute his partner.

Even so, Faith has run out of skyscraper. There are no further ledges to leap to, no ground to cover, just empty air and a long drop. The guards are closing in, the helicopter gleefully circling. Bullets ping off the stairwell O’Brien is using as cover. Then a solution presents itself. The chopper gets a little too close. Faith turns and sprints. She takes another bullet but keeps running. She jumps… The collective audience, drunk on emotion as well as booze, gasps. One hand reaches for the skids, and connects. Faith has escaped.