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You kill, kill, kill until there's nothing left but bodies, and you must do so with a ruthless efficiency that affords you no moment's pause to ponder the terrible things you've done. The sheer speed at which you must operate, coupled with the tension of never being completely sure if an enemy will spot you if you creep around the next corner, is utterly gripping. The violence in Hotline Miami may be pixelated and obscured, but it's no less intense for it. Let's say you see a pot of water boiling on the stove, and want to use it to scald a nearby bad guy.
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The decrepit scenery isn't just window dressing. This leads to improvisation, be it using doors as stunning agents, picking up weapons off of felled foes, or just using whatever the environment offers you to survive. But on your first play, you'll almost never have the most effective weapons at your disposal. With the right weapons, you can most certainly lay effective waste to the enemies before you without necessarily getting killed. With gameplay this tight, this frenetic, this exciting, it's hard to want to walk away. I think in one section, I died upwards of 50 times, yet just kept resetting to play. As they are, levels are still fun to play no matter how many times you die. This is important, because were each level to drag on just a bit longer, the game would give way to irritating repetition. All you need do is clear one floor and get to the next one for a checkpoint to trigger. One hit kills you, and once you're dead, you need only press a button to reset at the beginning of a level section. Fortunately, most anything that looks like an effective hiding spot is, and if it isn't? Well, it's not like you'll have time to think about what you've done, because you'll probably be dead. Given that the game uses a retro-inspired top-down perspective, it can sometimes be a bit difficult to gauge exactly what an enemy's eyeline might be. Enemies are crackerjack shots, and instantly aware of you the second you cross their field of view, or make a noise. Hotline Miami operates at a pace that can only be described as "blistering." The moment you enter a building, you're effectively under duress until every single person is dead. Of course, while you're playing, you won't have anything even resembling enough time to take in the carnage. Every time you finish a level, you'll leave the place you were littered with corpses, spent shell casings, and buckets of spilled blood. One thing that is not left to the imagination is the result of your gameplay. This is a game that requires multiple play-throughs to uncover all its secrets, though even once you do, there are still some things left to the imagination. And then there are the guys in those creepy animal masks. You talk to people who may or may not actually be who they say they are, or even exist at all. If not just because of all the wanton murder, but also because you see things. It's perhaps apparent initially that you are not a well man. Strange messages are left, indicating places to go, and people to kill, but they're as cryptic and muddied as your mind. All you know at the outset is that you are at the mercy of your own answering machine. Learning why you are doing this is ostensibly the goal of Hotline Miami. And you will do so brutally, mercilessly, and swiftly. Over the course of Hotline Miami's few hours of play, you will kill dozens upon dozens of men. You do this again and again until all that remains of his pixelated skull is a growing red stain on the floor. You then mount him before he can regain his bearings, and begin slamming his skull into the ground. You kick the door in, knocking the man on the other side to the ground. You know what must be done, and without hesitation, you do it. Reasoning for your assignment is obfuscated, and yet your clarity of vision is startling.
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You are only at this location at the behest of a mysterious answering machine message. He is one of many men in this dilapidated building. There is a man on the other side of this door. You are standing outside the entrance to a building. The year is 1989, and the place is Miami, Florida.