Alone in the Dark
(The new one.)
Oh yes. Alone in the Dark five. It is five now, isn't it? This is going to be so shiny. Post-apocalyptic dystopian New York! Lovecraftian evilness! All that wibble about realistic fire effects!
Oh. Online activation. I agree.
It could be Hellgate: London but with more creepy goings on and fewer crippling bugs! And more hotdogs. I wonder if they're flammable. Hey, there's a new Pyro pack for TF2. This is a good weekend for fire.
Finished installing! Right, here we go. Detail: High. My 360 controller isn't working. Oh, I see. I have to edit the controls manually, press a button on the pad, and then it asks if I want to use the default 360 controls. Well that's reasonable, I guess. New Game.
Sorry, what? Click RS to blink? I have to-- oh, it works. I can see better now. Ah. I have to keep blinking.
God, I hope it's just for this intro sequence. I never did like Pro Blinking Simulator. Seriously, what sort of OH GOD WHAT. What the hell was that? That was awesome, is what that was. Hey, dude, do you-- why can't I turn all the way around to look at you? OK, OK, I'm going. Keep your shirt on. Through this door?
I've just done this bit. Click RS to blink. Did I die? I must've died and restarted the section. How did I die? I couldn't even turn all the way around, let alone fight off whatever it was that killed me. OK, I'll try again.
Oh, good, not dead. More than can be said for him though. He's not going to be home for his ewww. Oh right. Probably should be running for my life about now. Hey, I can turn around! Awesome.
To tell the truth, I was in two minds about the new Alone in the Dark. As an attempt to revitalise a true classic series of PC gaming by bringing it up to date with plenty of freeform options, a huge world to explore, and cinematic action sequences, it's fair to say that it comes with its own share of warning signals. On the other hand, I am a sucker for survival horror and the marketing hype ticked all the right boxes.
The problems began to make themselves known before the opening sequence even ran. With mixed first and third person controls everything is geared towards a dual analogue system, with the keyboard and mouse combo simply replicating the pad's buttons, yet the game fails to autodetect the existence of the 360 controller despite singling it out in the instruction manual.
Being asked to click the right stick to blink was a bit of a surprise. In many ways, this unusual feature is indicative of AitD's core design and reveals much about the experience that awaits. We traditionally expect to merely command our characters rather than control them, issuing large-scale instructions such as "walk forwards", "look around the corner", or "fire weapon." Avatars are otherwise reasonably autonomous and will conduct all the normal bodily functions required to simply exist. We need only worry about maintaining balance or regulating breathing when a game gives us a reason to care about these things. As it happens the ability to close your eyes becomes important much later, but in order to introduce this concept we are asked to blink whenever our vision is blurred by something.
That is very pretty. It's not quite Bioshock but then it's not DX10. This is the movie the Alone in the Dark should have been. Wait, how do I get past this conduit? Physics!? I can hook it around that bit of rubble by swinging it out of the way? Oh yes. I'm going to have to tell everyone about oh I'm dead.
A. A A A START B X Y. You can't skip the cutscenes then, even on a replayed section.
Damn, that fire is good. Aah! It's spreading. OK, another route. What am I doing in Nakatomi Plaza anyway? OK, put out the fire. Crap. It's all around me. That is good fire. Exit first person view to swing objects. Breaking down doors is fun. Wait, the swing controls are the same as the camera. I can't look around while I'm holding things?
Oh god, the place is falling apart. But in a really awesome way.
No, I was in first person view. Stop that.
Oh good, MediSpray™. That wound looks nasty, but then I did just get eaten by the floor. What's on the TV? No, the TV. The TV. Why have a prominent object that is clearly receiving power if all you can do is open the cupboard it's sitting on? I'd like to hear a panicked news report. OH MY GOD. There was a wall there a minute ago. What storey is this? Whoa. Whoa! I want to stay on this floor! Oh dead.
OK. Next time that happens, leave quickly. I can do this. What!? Wh-- Whoa! Holycrapholycrap. Oww. That was awesome.
In our modern pixel-shaded world where graphics cores are fast becoming power-hungry enough to warrant their own PSUs, games are clambering over themselves to achieve cinematic realism. Even a moderate rig can throw around dramatic lighting and impressive particle effects to provide the all-important eye candy while leaving enough CPU cycles spare to simulate basic physics. Dangling electrical conduits ripple and sway in the breeze, sparking violently against metallic surfaces and threatening to ignite aything else that comes into contact. Most impressive is the much-lauded fire system; with photosensitive creatures to tackle and enemies that can only be finished off with cleansing flame, playing with fire is a vital part of both combat and puzzle-solving. With a little creativity and a handy lighter, a bottle of petrol can be poured out and turned into a makeshift fuse or a protective firewal. Similarly a stray ember left unchecked can turn a room full of furniture into a raging inferno, with support beams buckling and collapsing as the fire spreads.
When things get out of control, Alone in the Dark really lights up.
Alright! Combat! Though after that crime against dialogue I think we all deserve to die. Ow! Stop that! Right. Let me get this straight:
- In first person mode, I can't carry a melee weapon but I can look around freely with the right stick. The right trigger fires my weapon if I have one.
- In third person mode, the A button either picks up a nearby object or initiates running, depeding. The right stick lets me look slightly left to slightly right.
- In third person mode with a weapon, the left trigger locks onto a target and the right stick swings my weapon about. The right trigger throws it.
Finally! A torch. A to turn it off and on? Gotcha.
This room is very dark. Torch on! A. Oh, I was too close to the door so I opened it instead. A. Right, torch on. What? First person mode. It's easier. Oh, I can't. Ahh. I picked something up. Right, drop that. Walk around this pitch black room until I'm not told that A will pick something up. There! A. Now what? Oh. The torch isn't equipped any more. There we go. Light!
Then I suppose you're the answerman, shithead?That's special.There's something on the other side of that door. Quick, get in that car. Quickly! They're coming! How do you start it? Oh, you can look at the elements of the dashboard. That was the horn. Ahh, that looks like a hotwire icon. Try that. Wait, use the sticks to what? How am I supposed to know how-- whoa! Carjacked. Is this Liberty City?
Right, need to kill these guys. Fire is the only way. No fire around here. Hey, could be some in the next room. Run for it! What was that? Oh. The ceiling collapsed behind me. Again. Good job I saved. Now what? Eh. Quit.
Unfortunately, things are far too often out of control and not in the good, exciting way. The minimal HUD appears when there is something nearby which can be interacted with, showing a little picture of what sort of object is available to use. Except it doesn't. If it isn't something that can be picked up, such as ammunition or a body, then you are treated to a generic "usable object" tip. It is impossible to tell whether you are being invited to open the drawer on the desk you're looking at or close the door behind you, and if you aren't standing perfectly still when you try then you might walk an inch out of its range and start using your valuable inventory items instead. This can be particularly maddening in the heat of combat where trying to pick up a chair in a hurry may result in turning your flashlight off or lighting your molotov cocktail.
One more try. Previously, on Alone in the Dark.... Heh. Nice touch. Oh. Saving doesn't save your current position. Back to the start.
Quickquickquick yes! Floor it! Wait, is this a real car? What is it made of? Plastic?
Oh. Killed by an instant-death QTE. Quit.
I could go on. I'm tempted to as well, because every scene in Alone in the Dark is a fight against the controls and the absurd addiction to realism. Thr abhorrent driving sequences, where you are put in loose command of a vehicle with all the feel of Micro Machines and half the horsepower, demand you to follow a strict route as in Stuntman but then don't tell you what to look out for, meaning you have to repeat them ad infinitum until you can remember that hidden in that particular patch of fog is a small bump in the road that causes the chassis to explode apart if you hit it. Meanwhile a head-on collision with a flaming truck causes you to come to an abrupt stop with an embarrassing silence.
Then there is the bizarre idea of controlling both hands independently, with a different "weapon cycle" for each, meaning that you can never quite be sure which combinations of buttons you need to press in order to turn your torch on. As a general rule, there are two buttons to control each hand: One to cycle to the next available item, and one to use it. Realism dictates, of course, that the action doesn't simply pause when you manually enter the inventory screen so good luck there. In third person view, which the game frequently drags you into, this can be a case of trial and error — no HUD means not being told explicitly what you're holding. You'll really kick yourself when you try the excellent inventory comination system and throw an explosive bottle with your left hand, then go to shoot it as it lands with your right, except because HUDs are unrealistic you can't remember how many bullets are left in the clip. Or you throw a pointless bottle of water instead because it looked the same.
After the initial few scene-setting chapters, you find yourself stranded in the middle of a desolate Central Park in far worse a state than Niko Bellic could have ever hoped for, with your recently-acquired companion off chasing ambulances and no longer annoying you. This is what you came here for: Emergent, freeform gameplay in a twisted reality blighted by an unkown evil. Things are starting to look up.
Less than twenty minutes later you meet up again and she becomes your BFFL despite Carnby insisting he should go alone (having clocked the title). The rest of the game devolves into a tedious escort-protect-rescue drudge through strictly linear levels, with rubble conveniently materialising to block potential retreat every damn time you hit a checkpoint. I'll write this next bit in bold just in case you're skimming: Alone in the Dark is 5% creepy exploration, 95% shooting zombies in corridors.
Alone in the Dark is somewhat atmospheric and goes to great length to make you feel like you are playing an episodic movie. If you're having difficulty with a section you can simply hop into the DVD-style menu and skip to the next track. The entire game, with the exception of the final few chapters, is open to play at any time. It is packed with action sequences and more than enough unsettling features to tick the survival horror boxes, but it ticks them with such formulaic lack of passion that it makes you feel dirty just for having seen it. It desperately wants to be loved and do things differently. However, whether it's the confusing mixed inputs making you do things you don't want to, the quirky ambidextrous system not letting you do things you really need, or the vehicles simply not behaving like they ever should, the controls are so broken as to render the game unplayable without extensive practice.
Oh, and there is one point where you get an instant-death sequence if you look up. That's where I decided to quit for a long, long time.
In Conclusion
No game in recent memory has tried so hard to make me love it while simultaneously trying so hard to make me hate it. It's like when your cat brings you the twitching corpse of a half-chewed bird; it is so proud of its achievement and you have to admire the skills required for a ground-based animal that is confused by mirrors to catch something that can fly, but you don't really want to have to deal with the poor creature leaking bodily fluids all over your floor. Then you feel bad for giving the cat a stern talking-to and go to apologise only to find the bloody thing tearing the sofa to shreds. Alone in the Dark is an incorrigible game that doesn't know how to behave in polite society and thinks it can get away with it by being delightfully evil and well-executed from time to time.
According to the premise, Alone in the Dark should have you:
- Alone
- In the dark
- In Central Park
Except for five minutes out of the entirely too-short experience, it fails on all three counts.
| I♥NY |
|---|
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| OMFG |
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| Final Score | |
|---|---|
| Presentation: | Miniseries |
| Sound: | Frustrated screams |
| Realism of depiction of NYC: | We'll let you know when our scout gets back |
| Episode four out of just turn around damn you | |
| Alone in the Dark is modelled after a miniseries, and ironically it's probably the best game you'll ever see someone else play as a series of speedruns on YouTube. | |
