Special attacks truly feel special and each one feels satisfying to perform. My favorite was the DOS attack that freezes enemies giving me a chance to unleash a six-hit combo without fear of being struck from behind and the combo breaking. While enemies are frozen, the screen fills with rotating digital chaff made of photos and static. It's cool touches like these that kept me coming back and thinking better of the game than I otherwise would have.
I wish I were better at the combat system because with each successful combo, the music grows in intensity and complexity. Miss a blow and it's all gone. It's a unique carrot at the end of the stick that I hope more games try; it only works when the music is this good, though. Mixtures of electronic and classical paint Remember Me's aural landscape, complementing that game's tone and feel of new technology fused with old ideals.
In Neo-Paris, memories are commodities. They're all at once a drug, currency and power. Memory vending machines line the streets shilling First Kiss like so many candy bars. Junkies cower in corners craving another fix. Memory-stripped and reprogrammed former-humans lurk in the slums. There's so much potential here for so many different narrative possibilities, but major plot points are squandered and delivered with little weight. Characters appear out of nowhere and I'm supposed to have an attachment to them before they make their grand exit. Except they lack personality and character so they end up as no more than tinder for the fire.
The city of Neo-Paris is a treat. The rest of the game? Not so much.