The Rise, Fall, and Redemption of Cyberpunk 2077's Subreddit
It was inevitable. Cyberpunk 2077 had simply existed in the hype cycle for too long. When it finally arrived in early December, after numerous delays, controversies, sizzle reels, and previews, it felt as if a shrieking, collective mania was doomed to subsume the culture. All of this energy, finally exhausted, in one white-hot moment. Few studios enjoy CD Projekt Red's dual pedigree; both an indie messiah and a gargantuan triple-A moneymaker, and when the company announced they'd be leaving The Witcher behind for a sojourn in Mike Pondsmith's glossy, gutter-tech Cyberpunk universe back in 2012, it already seemed like the hype was boiling to a dangerous smoke point. Naturally, by the end of 2020, Cyberpunk taught the rest of the gaming industry a valuable lesson; if your product stumbles out of the gate after years and years of marketing hype, your community will let you know. And in Cyberpunk’s case, this was nowhere more evident than in its subreddit. [widget path="g...