PushingPlay

As a youth I was enchanted by the eerie spectral world of the original Alone in the Dark. While I didn’t have a computer to play it on myself, I pestered my friends for chances to play the groundbreaking PC thriller. It used (for it’s time) innovative 3d graphics and was one of the earliest examples of creative cinematography, which was used to set the creepy tone of the game. Atari’s Alone in the Dark, released on June 24th, attempts to transplant the classic formula into a contemporary setting, with dazzling (for our time) graphics and lighting effects. I gave it an Hour Play and found the experience captivating, but not quite as magical as the original.

Hit the jump to hear how the hour went.

The game commenced with my character opening his eyes in a room where he was constrained to a chair. Through my blurry vision I heard my captors discussing the execution of me and another person who was being held captive. An on screen cue prompted me to blink. No, not in the real life. Alone in the Dark (AitD) wanted me to blink my characters eyes by clicking the right joystick. I complied, and my vision temporarily cleared before gradually getting blurry again, and requiring another blink. I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t have to keep track of my characters eye fluids and eyelid movement for the duration of the game (luckily I didn’t), but it was an interesting and immersive mechanic that caught my attention and pulled me deeper into the game experience.

My captors pushed me up a flight of stairs, where they planned to execute me. Disoriented and blinking, I ascended the stairs. When I reached the top my screen went dark and faded into a loading screen. I had failed. Since I didn’t really know what I had done wrong I tried the same thing again. And again. I gradually started to get a bit further, but with no direction or explanation of what I was supposed to do I had no clue what I was doing wrong. When I eventually succeeded (on the sixth try) I didn’t know what I had done differently, but was happy to be done. A rapidly growing fissure dealt with my captor and I was free to move to the next area.

The game rewarded my success with a stunning display of the game engines graphical prowess; rays of light shining through a large fan in a gloomy corridor. As the fan slowly spun, the long shadow it cast reacted incredibly realistically. When I walked my character out into the light his shadow was precise and impressive. While the design of the room itself wasn’t noteworthy, the ambiance created by the lighting effects was stunning. I started to see the potential for AitD to create eerie scenes, dripping with shadows and realistically muffled light.

The next sequence acted as a tutorial for the games platforming controls. Climbing around in a rapidly deteriorating building I was instructed to jump, climb, shimmy, and navigate through the treacherous obstacles. At one point I encountered a climbing puzzle that took a handful of tries before I understood what I was supposed to do. Even once I had figured out the solution, it still took a few tries to get my character to do what I wanted him to. This soured the taste of victory when I finally succeeded, as I felt like it was more chance than it was skill, but I was content to move on.

During these tutorial portions of the game I was impressed with the level of immersion that Atari achieved. Even as my character died time after time on the same obstacle, I felt deeply involved with the gameplay. At one point when the tutorial voice told my character to take a deep breath and jump, I caught myself taking a deep breath before hitting the jump button. Few games have had me on the edge of my seat like this.

This training segment concluded with bang. A chunk of the room I was standing in exploded, and I was left hanging off a gargoyle overlooking central park. Once again, the graphics got a chance to shine. The camera whipped around to give me a long view of the park and the streets below me. The title came up and I knew my tutorial was over.

In my last few minutes of play I solved a physics puzzle that had me taking advantage of gravity and a pulley. While the physics puzzle wasn’t groundbreaking, nothing that hadn’t been seen years ago in Halflife 2, I was glad to see that AitD had included a working physics model. I am optimistic that these puzzles grow more complex throughout the course of the game. My hour of play ended during a cutscene in which a woman who I had been helping became possessed and attacked me. At last some combat! But alas, I would have to put aside the game to write this review before I engaged in combat with this demon woman.

In my hour of play I was confronted with the games lack of balance between style and substance. The game has texture, style, and mood in spades, but is lacking in controls, and substance. The jaggies that plague the game distract the player from the otherwise brilliant lighting effects. The main enemy I was confronted with, a supernatural force that was tearing apart the apartment complex I was in, was disappointingly unintimidating. The scars on my characters face were more graphically impressive than the giant fissures that were tearing through the building. AitD, like many games of this generation, seems more focused on the details than it does on the bigger picture. Gameplay takes a backseat to presentation.

Will I play it again? Most definitely, but probably not extensively. I am curious to see how combat works, and after having played GTA4 I am excited to see other game developers interpretations of Central Park, which I understand is the setting for the main portion of AitD. The original was so groundbreaking that it was destined to be a classic, but I feel that Atari didn’t update the formula enough to make it relevant in today’s gaming market. I would recommend it as a rental to anyone who is interested in seeing a unique take on the action horror genre.