There are two things in gaming that have a tendency to leave me cold: expensive marketing hype and derivative first person shooters. This goes some way to explain why it's taken me nearly a year to succumb to Bioshock's shadowy charms.

But succumb I have, and I don't mind admitting that my preconceptions about the game couldn't have been more wrong. Not only does it live up to the hype, it transcends the commonly accepted boundaries of the FPS genre.

Its pitch black storyline – that artfully recalls the great dystopian novels 1984 and Brave New World – is told economically and subtly through diaries and posters rather than uninvolving cut-scenes. You play the sole survivor of a plane crash, the game opening on a stunningly realised moonlit sea with burning wreckage all around you. Somewhere to your right a lighthouse looms, and you've little choice but to swim towards it. This, it turns out, is the gateway to Rapture, a secret undersea city where a once idyllic society has torn itself apart.

From the moment the bathysphere doors open, Bioshock has you gripped in its violent, at times surreal world; Rapture's denizens, called Splicers, are an insane bunch, wearing animal masks and leaping out of the shadows. Armed with little more than a wrench for protection, you're forced to stumble on through the underlit rooms and corridors, some semi-submerged, others littered with corpses. More details are revealed as you explore; as well as the Splicers, there's a small army of children, the Little Sisters, wandering the city, protected by the Daddies, who clomp about in huge diving suits. The Little Sisters, thanks to some bizarre scientific experiment, carry ADAM, a resource that is used to power your Plasmids. Plasmids are powers that can be collected as you progress through the game, allowing you to fire electricity from your fingertips, manipulate objects telekinetically, and more besides.

The Little Sisters present a moral dilemma that's central to the game; do you protect them, making progression more difficult, or do you kill them and harvest the ADAM for your own advantage?

Despite its heavily scripted format, Bioshock never feels too linear thanks to these choices it provides. You can choose to play the game as a traditional FPS, sticking to the conventional weapons (which include pistols, tommy guns and shotguns), or you can concentrate on using Plasmids, which can be collected and levelled-up to insane levels of power. Bioshock's enemy AI also ensures you're rarely given much time to relax; while it doesn't throw an army of foes at you as other FPS games do, they're fast, aggressive and occasionally quite scary.

In light of the huge marketing levels and critical praise Bioshock received upon release, it was perhaps inevitable that the game received something of a backlash. Online forums are full of disgruntled gamers criticising Bioshock for its repetition, for being too easy or 'dumbed down', and other trumped-up charges. While I'll admit that it's not perfect – and few games are – I'd have to side with the critics and say that Bioshock is worthy of every word of adulation it's received.

Visually and aurally, Bioshock is never less than astonishing, with imagery that pulls deftly at your subconscious fears. Greater still is the quality of its writing and ideas; the game's utopia-gone-awry is inspired, and I'd even suggest that Bioshock could have just as easily been the premise of a classic novel or film.

While I have few criticisms, I personally found the 'hacking' subgames to be an extraneous waste of time – to be suddenly confronted with a 'Pipedreams' puzzle game rip-off in the middle of an intense, atmospheric FPS seemed jarring and unnecessary, even more so when you consider that you don't actually have to play them; if you have enough money (and you usually do) you can simply click 'buy out' and sidestep this element altogether.

Viewed as a conventional FPS, Bioshock can admittedly seem rather slow paced – but that's because it isn't just a conventional FPS. It's a game that rewards you for exploring, taking your time and discovering the little details hidden in the shadows. Players who simply tool up and sprint for the finish are really missing the point. Bioshock is as much about its story and atmosphere; no other game, apart from perhaps Ico, has such a genuine sense of place. Its art-deco world is a joy to behold, and its inhabitants seem like living, breathing people – and killing them isn't consequence free.

One of the first people you encounter is a woman standing over a pram, whispering to her baby. For a second or two you pause, wondering 'friend or foe?'. And just as that thought crosses your mind, she's lunging at you, screaming like a feral animal. Instinctively, you shoot her, and she crumples to the floor. You step closer, and notice for the first time that the pram was empty... It's an unforgettable moment, one of the earliest in a game crammed full of them.

Stunning.