Alan Wake Review, Episode I

Why am I collecting thermoses?

I started playing 2010's Alan Wake, developed by Remedy Entertainment, for PC on Sunday. My friends seemed generally divided about whether it's worth playing or not. Some insisted that I should play it, while others were wholly dismissive of it. Regardless, the game has always intrigued me. I enjoy thrillers and horror, and it seemed to have a concept unlike any I've experienced in a game before.

The end of a battle. Just in time, too.

The story involves the titular character, Alan, and his wife abandoning their home in New York to vacation in the fictional lakeside town, Bright Falls, Washington. Alan has been suffering from severe writer's block, and the hope is that he'll be able to clear his head. Much to his chagrin, an evil darkness begins to possess the world at night, and Alan is forced to do battle with this mysterious evil. The story, in and of itself, is unique to the video games I've played while not completely original if one were to branch out to other media. Making the primary protagonist a writer and featuring manuscript pages seems risky in that the developers invite not only criticism of their game writing but their in-game writing as well. I've only completed two chapters thus far, and while I've enjoyed my time with it, I do wonder if there will be a big revelation or twist that will impress me or if the characters will just ride out the story laid out thus far with some predictably bombastic ending. I will admit that while I appreciate the manuscript pages' purpose in the narrative, I do find Wake's writing to be a bit hammy when taken in one-page bites. (By the way, A. Wake? Come on, you guys.)

He's not kidding.

In terms of motivation, Alan Wake offers a guy like me good incentive: I want to get out of the dark. I will readily admit that I am not the best a action games; I lack l337 skills. I play most games on the easiest difficulty so that I can enjoy the story with little hindrance. A few notable exceptions were Uncharted 3, which I regrettably played on Normal, and Bayonetta, which I have only played on Normal and Hard and seriously loved every minute of it. I'm doing this one on easy, and you can mock my gamer cred henceforth if it pleases you. Returning to the game at hand, when darkness falls, people possessed by the darkness, "the Taken," come out of nowhere to wreak havoc on our city boy writer. It makes me jump, especially when the game just moves or drops objects out of no where for some cheap thrills. Exploitation aside, nothing has made me stick to the ceiling as much as the tentacles from Dead Space, but it is enough to keep my heart thumping and me looking for every pool of light to take shelter in.

Combat in Alan Wake is also original. Though armed with a pistol or shotgun during darkness segments, Wake's best weapon is his flashlight. Defeating the enemies requires focusing the flashlight on them until the requisite blanket of darkness that envelops them has disappeared. Then, shoot. On the easy difficulty, many enemies are easily felled by two bullets from the pistol, but larger hulks require a shot gun or a onesie weapon like the flare gun, which removes the darkness and kills in a single hit. I am trepidatious with shooters, typically wishing to shoot everything haphazardly and be done with it, but I honestly enjoy this extra layer. It never comes off as artificial filler, and it keeps the player engaged, managing two systems of offing the Taken instead of Rambo-ing through with beefed up weaponry. I have one problem with it, though. In order to make the darkness disappear quickly and effectively, you must focus the flashlight on the enemy using the right mouse button. When not focused, the flashlight will recharge its own battery, though not fast enough for heated encounters. My question is what flashlight in our reality does this? The story is effective so long as we understand that the Taken are part of an extraordinary circumstance in what is otherwise the real world. But they have magic flashlights. In fact, you can even do this with vehicle headlights, which is more boggling. I know I should suspend my belief, and if the flashlights behaved normally, it's a wonder how long it would take to progress, but seriously, has no one thought hard about this?

Just a small town with small town folk.

The game features an episodic structure, containing a number of chapters to fit the whole writing motif. The beginning of each chapter features a recap of what has happened thus far, and the end of each involves a title card hanging out on the screen while a song plays in the background. (You can skip this.) I find these features to be rather novel, and the end of the second chapter was capped with "Haunted" by Poe, which I adore. The narrative is obviously linear, but Alan Wake throws in some other diversions along the way. Alan can collect blue thermoses strewn about the wilds of Bright Falls, listen to radio programs, watch the game's version of The Twilight Zone on various TVs, and even shoot some can pyramids down. The collectible items serve further to suck the player out of focus, and justifying them within the narrative gives Wake a mildly schizophrenic thought process - I'm really scared and want to go home, but I see something flashing over on that hill that I must have. The radio and TV shows are dichotomous, however, both aiding the setting with their eccentricities and unnecessarily distracting the main character from getting out of Dodge by having him stand around for five minutes. The breadcrumbs left by Remedy Entertainment in this case are confusing, and it would have served the story more to give Alan some bonus within the narrative via the collectibles.

Cynicism aside, Alan Wake features applaudable visuals. I am playing the game at a 1920 x 1080 resolution on the highest graphical settings, and it features some really beautiful vistas with no slowdown or framerate issues that I have noticed. Bright Falls and its environments look great, and it's almost a shame the game takes place mostly in the dark because the daylight and sunset are handled rather beautifully. Although objects are rather sparse, the overall effect and the landscape are really what shine, and they are enhanced via a natural color palette and bloom lighting effects. I also love how enemies disappear into sparks, and the game's subtle cue that a battle is over by making the last enemy die in a larger flash. The odd transitions between the engine-rendered and the pre-rendered cutscenes reveal jarring lighting changes between the two, and it never seems to make sense why the tones need to change for such brief moments. Frankly, this is one of those games that makes me question why they have pre-rendered cutscenes at all. Still, the quality is high and easy on the eyes with both. The vocal performance is another double-edged sword, with voice acting being well executed and the lip syncing negating that execution. There is also the matter of characters who will talk to Alan while he runs around looking for thermoses without changing the directions their facing or trying to slap him into paying attention.

Well, let's be honest. Nobody was going to use it.

There will be more to come as I continue to play the game, but hopefully, this serves as an indicator of what to expect starting out. In the meantime, don't forget to stock up on Energizer batteries. The game won't let you forget!

Part II
Part III

All images taken myself via Steam's screenshot feature.

Music: I Love Video Game Soundtracks, Part I

No, really, I'm serious.

My first video game soundtrack was Burn: Cycle, composed by Simon Boswell. The PC version of the game came with it by default. (By the way, does anyone remember the CD-i?) Be that as it may, it only ignited a small flame within me that would not rage into a fire for many years. Still, there were a few other notable additions to my soundtrack collection until it became a full-on obsession. I was among the small population that owned a Sega Saturn, which I purchased mainly for NiGHTS into DREAMS. I loved the game, but somehow or another, I discovered that the themes to all the boss battles, not the level music, were accessible via a regular CD player. That said, it meant I could eventually rip the music onto MP3 format once that became popular. The next game I could do this for was Earthworm Jim 2, which was composed primarily by Tommy Tallarico. That soundtrack was a double bonus because it contained some awesome tracks from him, but it also had the 3rd movement of Moonlight Sonata (Beethoven), which I think is the best movement.

It wasn't until Myst III: Exile did my interest truly get sparked. The theme to that game really opened my eyes to the potential a game soundtrack could possess. It also spoke to me directly as I have a rather exploitable love of songs that start small in production but become booming choral masterpieces by the end. Thus, Jack Wall created the standard by which I would judge future soundtracks, and the next one I would actually own would be Myst IV: Revelations, whose main theme is an awesome tribal piece done with a choir in 7/4 timing. However, it was hard to maintain just one composer to love as time went by.

Stepping back a little to the year, 2000, that is when I played Final Fantasy VIII on the PC. While I wouldn't own the soundtrack for a number of years, I think many gamers around the world are with me when I say this: "Liberi Fatali," the opening theme to the game, is a masterpiece on par with "Carmina Burana" (Orff) in terms of drama and fantastic choral work. I must have started a new game about 50 times either to watch the opening sequence myself or to show it to others, and it always solicited a "wow" response from my friends.

Well, these are my origins, but I won't go into every single inspiring soundtrack I've come across. There are probably many more I forgot or cannot access anyway. What I will focus on is the composers and their soundtracks or notable songs. I have played the games corresponding to each of these, and I honestly feel that your ears are missing something by not having access to some songs.

(In no particular order.)

Jack Wall
What I have heard: Myst III: Exile, Myst IV: Revelation, Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, Jade Empire

I already stated that I love him. You may have never heard of Myst III or IV (did you know there were sequels to Myst?), but I'll tell you what you have heard of: Mass Effect. He was lead composer on the soundtracks for both Mass Effect and Mass Effect 2, and he did just as much of an amazing job on both. They both possess arguably different sounds to match the narratives they back. Mass Effect has more of the sci-fi edge to it with a lot of notable synthesized sounds, but it also possesses a lot of drama. Songs like "Breeding Ground" and "Exit" are sweeping pieces that invoke memories of the exciting missions you encountered throughout the game. On a tamer note, though, "Uncharted Worlds" and "Vigil" have become iconic and hauntingly beautiful themes carried throughout the entire series, invoking a sad peace among the chaos of the larger story arcs. With Mass Effect 2, the focus shifted to the characters themselves, and they each have a theme. Starting with "The Illusive Man," which sets a haunting tone for one of the most notorious characters, the soundtrack almost serves as the narration itself. Listening to the undulating brass work on "Jacob" or the cries of the vocalists on "Samara" easily take you back to their characters and the missions you performed for and with them.

Sam Hulick, Sascha Dikiciyan, Cris Velasco, Chris Lennertz
What I have heard: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, Mass Effect 3

Although I would love to sing only Jack Wall's praises for the Mass Effect soundtracks, I simply cannot. He did not work alone. All of these composers created notable tracks across all three soundtracks. It's also worth noting that the Sonic Mayhem duo, Sascha Dikiciyan and Cris Velasco, did all the music to the Kasumi's Stolen Memory DLC, and Chris Lennertz composed the wildly dramatic scores to Overlord and Lair of the Shadow Broker DLCs.  Sam Hulick's notable contributions were on the Mass Effect soundtrack, where he composed the awe-inspiring theme for "The Normandy" and the victorious "From the Wreckage." Thus, it's worth mentioning that the game basically begins and ends with Sam Hulick. Just sayin'.



Jesper Kyd
What I have heard: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed II, Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood, Assassin's Creed: Revelations, Borderlands, Darksiders II

To me, Jesper Kyd was reinvigorating. Listening to his work made be super passionate about video game soundtracks all over again. At this point, he is mostly known for his work on the Assassin's Creed series and with good reason. Whereas the first game's soundtrack was impressive, with sweeping themes for the various Middle Eastern areas, such as "Flight through Jerusalem," his command over the audience comes with the opening triptych of Assassin's Creed II. If I could recommend three songs that belong together to play on repeat, it would be "Earth," "Venice Rooftops," and "Ezio's Family." Through them, he establishes a musical theme that would carry through the game via various instruments and voices. It manages to be memorable while subtle at the same time. These acclaims aside, it is the entirety of the Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood soundtrack where Kyd shines, and it is due to the excellent percussion work. There is so much variety in the percussion here, from the sounds of marching in "Flags of Rome" to the almost heart-like pounding of "Borgia Occupation," which sadly disappears from the game once you've successfully captured all of Rome for the assassins. Although I am still listening to it, I would like to assure the video game world that the Darksiders II soundtrack is arguably an even greater tour de force embodying so much variety and interest in its double-disc size.


Austin Wintory
What I have heard: flOw, Journey

This man entered my radar only this year, but I pray that he will never fall off. I could contend that that if you want an absolutely beautiful, emotional experience that is both complex and accessible, you will get the soundtrack to Journey. On top of a superb game, Wintory's soundtrack is maybe the deepest experience you could have via a single video game soundtrack. It is a journey in and of itself, and upon the epic arrival of "Apotheosis," life just feels complete. The composition of that song rises and rises almost endlessly until it plateaus at the apex of your aural desire. It is a truly unfathomable song and album. I bought the soundtrack to flOw out of curiosity, and while it maintains a much simpler atmosphere, it contains "Gratitude," which seems like a taste of the greatness Wintory has yet to unleash on the world years later.


Kow Otani
What I have heard: Shadow of the Colossus

There is nothing else to hear, honestly. Whereas Shadow of the Colossus presents so many arguments for the idea of video games as art, the soundtrack acts as the pedestal for every point you could bring up. Fighting a colossus ultimately becomes synonymous with the dramatic rise of a wild string orchestra, whose strings switch to victorious themes as soon as your sword penetrates the flesh beneath each glowing symbol you encounter. It is hard to choose a favorite, but I love the flurry of "A Violent Encounter." It usually stands as my great example, but it's unfair to choose. "A Despair-filled Farewell" features an almost crying horn that adds to the emotional realization that you spend the game killing majestic beings. And something begins to swell within me as soon as I hear the bells chime in "Epilogue ~Those Who Remain~," which backs the credits as the player observes the fallen heaps of his or her own handiwork. Seriously, this soundtrack is indescribably memorable through and through.


Rei Kondoh
What I have heard: Okami, Bayonetta

Rei Kondoh is definitely not the only composer on these humongous 5-disc soundtracks, but his songs remain the most memorable to me. I have a huge penchant for the dramatic, as I have said, and Rei fits the bill. I loved every minute of Okami, but I think I first took notice of the soundtrack during "Giving Kushinada a Ride," which plays as a beacon of strength during a time in the game when everyone has succumbed to the sad fate of one of the characters. The listener can feel that important heroics are afoot, and this song narrates the journey towards facing one's fate admirably. From the same soundtrack, "The Sun Rises" oddly makes me a bit teary-eyed. Following a suspenseful moment near the end of the game, it acts as a reprise of the game's main theme, but mixes it into a triumphant ballad that defeats evil with its notes alone. The Bayonetta soundtrack was notably all over the place in terms of style, but many of the booming tracks were composed by Kondoh, including all of the insane choirs that play during the epic boss fights. My favorites are near the end, though. "You May Call Me Father" backs an incredible battle as Bayonetta falls from the top of a huge skyscraper, and "The Greatest Jubilee" bears a sound as big as the universe as she fights to save it. These two tracks stand out for me because in contrast to the other boss themes, the choirs get notable reprieves from screaming their lungs out during a few movements, which makes their alarming return all the more deliberate and disquieting. If it would stir things up, I'd let Rei Kondoh conduct the choir at my funeral.


It does appear my passion for this post has gotten the better of me, so I will continue with a second part tomorrow! I do hope you're going and buying all these things, by the way.

(Part II can be found here.)


Images taken from Amazon, iTunes, and other Googled sources.