Despite all its visual polish and hype, Cyberpunk 2077 ends up feeling surprisingly immature. The story tries to appear edgy and profound but rarely delivers real emotional or philosophical depth. Everything feels exaggerated โ the slang, the violence, the constant โcoolโ attitude โ like itโs written for teenagers rather than adults who expect nuance from a dystopian world.
The cinematics are another disappointment. The first-person camera kills composition and makes every cutscene feel flat and awkward. Characters just stand around delivering lines, and the overuse of neon lighting makes the world look noisy instead of beautiful. Thereโs no rhythm or emotional pacing โ just random flashes of โlook how cool this is.โ
Underneath all the shine, the game misses the reflective heart of true cyberpunk: alienation, moral ambiguity, and quiet human tragedy. Instead of feeling cinematic, it feels staged; instead of being immersive, it feels performative.
If Cyberpunk 2077 had chosen subtlety over spectacle โ fewer neon lights, fewer explosions, and more quiet moments of humanity โ it couldโve been something truly special. But as it stands, itโs a flashy, shallow fantasy dressed up as something mature.
Iโve been replaying Cyberpunk 2077, and the more I think about it, the more I realize how shallow Johnny Silverhand really is. He is a tired copy of 1960s American revolutionary rockstar clichรฉs โ loud, self-destructive, and pretending to be profound โ a copy-paste of the 1960s American counterculture archetype.
Think about it. His entire persona โ the anti-establishment rockstar, the self-destructive rebel, the โscrew the systemโ attitude โ is straight out of the Jim Morrison / John Lennon / Sid Vicious playbook. Thatโs not futuristic; itโs nostalgic. Itโs the same old โrock against the systemโ fantasy thatโs been repackaged since Woodstock.
The problem is, Cyberpunk 2077 acts like this archetype is still profound, when itโs decades past its expiration date. In 2077, where megacorps literally own peopleโs memories, โburn it all downโ isnโt rebellion โ itโs naรฏvetรฉ. Johnny feels like a boomer rebel who never grew up, stuck in a hologram.
Compare that to Blade Runner or Blade Runner 2049.
Those films understand what cyberpunk is about. They donโt shout rebellion โ they question existence. The conflict isnโt between punk and corp; itโs between being and not-being. Itโs quiet, tragic, and deeply human.
Blade Runner asks: โWhat does it mean to be human in a world run by machines?โ
Cyberpunk 2077 asks: โHow do I look cool while flipping off a corporation?โ
CD Projekt Red didnโt really evolve the cyberpunk idea โ they just gave it a next-gen skin. Theyโre fans of the genre, not thinkers of it.
Johnny Silverhand isnโt rebellion; heโs rebellion as a brand. A ghost of the 20th century pretending to be the future.
Meanwhile, Blade Runner movies quietly asks:
โIf you canโt tell the difference between real and artificial, does it even matter which one you are?โ
Thatโs true cyberpunk.