The sales clerk looks at my copy of Siren with diffidence.

“What the hell is this?”

I just shrug my shoulders and dummy up. No sense in getting an outsider involved. Back at home I open the package and leaf through the instruction booklet. “The man on the roof is watching you,” it says. And indeed, he is looking for me and if he sees me, I’m dead. I run across a bridge and shots ring out in the dark. Crouched next to a decrepit woodshed, I hear the bullets ricochet off to the right. I think I gave him the slip. I call out to Yoriko and more shots crack the night air as she follows my path across the bridge. Did she make it? After an interminable wait I hear footsteps behind me and her face emerges from the darkness. We’ve got to make it to the hospital. Ahead I can see a flashlight beam weaving drunkenly in the trees. We stumble through the forest, running toward the light. Getting closer we see a man hunched over, mumbling to himself. He hears us and whips around, shining the bright light into our eyes. It’s hard to see clearly but there is something very wrong with him. His hands are black and gnarled, like a burned corpse. Blood runs from his eye sockets. Then we see the scythe in his other hand but it’s too late. Game over.

“First use the light. Then the machine for the peeping person.” What the hell is this? I meet a strange woman. She is dressed like a nun but her god lives in the dark spaces between stars. She says to me; try to ignore the air raid sirens, remain very still and concentrate. The barriers between our minds become more permeable as the town of Hanuda slides deeper into the realm of the dead. Be patient. It’s like tuning in a far away station on the radio. Can you see what the shibito sees as he crawls through the wreckage of the town? Can you see through the dead man’s eyes? If you want, indulge in a little scopophilia. He doesn’t know you’re there yet. But don’t ever let him see you. If you see yourself in his eyes the only thing you can do is run.

I think I am beginning to understand. Siren is not a game that you play. It is a problem that you work on. An alchemical text to decipher or an alien artifact whose function is not clear. It may be a toy or it may be a weapon. The fact is, most people are not going to like Siren. It’s too hard. It’s too opaque. It asks too much. And what does it give in return? Nightmares, and possibly a heart condition. Those things and the glimmerings of a real experience, something that is all too rare in the world of video games. “Go to the bloody crossroad” but step quietly. Watch out for broken glass. No good. He sees you. Run.

directed by Keiichiro Toyama

Sony Playstation 2
Sony Computer Entertainment Inc.
2004

Review by J.B. Fleming written 7/14/04

Previously published in Cemetery Dance issue # 51, 2005. An expanded version can be found here.

I played the original version of Code: Veronica on the Sega Dreamcast and liked it quite a bit. This time around I played the Sony Playstation 2 version called Code: Veronica X. I liked the game less the second go round but I must admit that it is still compulsively playable.

First things first; the differences between the Dreamcast and Playstation 2 versions are minimal. Visually, Code: Veronica X is slightly sharper but most people would not notice unless they were looking closely at the games side by side. Code: Veronica X also includes a few cut scenes that were not in the Dreamcast version but they add very little to the story and total up to maybe an additional five minutes. Steve’s hairstyle has been changed so that he no longer resembles Leonardo DiCaprio. That’s pretty much it for the differences. So, let’s look at the game.

Code: Veronica’s graphic presentation is excellent. Everything is rendered in real-time by rock-solid 3D polygons. The environment is detailed and realistic. Spooky lighting effects help set the ominous mood. Cut scenes are usually handled by the game engine and they look great. However, there are some scenes that are shown as pre-rendered cinemas that seem out of place sandwiched between the slick, real-time polygon scenes.

Also of note is the vocal talent. Previous Resident Evil games were notoriously famous for the poor quality of their voice acting. This time Capcom spent some money and did it right. Aside from an excess of Canadian accents the voice acting in Code: Veronica is very good. The sound design and music are also A-list. You’ll never forget the chilling sound of a zombie beating against a chain-link fence.

The controls are tight and responsive. However, the menu screens are confusing and awkward to navigate. I never could get used to the button layout on the Dreamcast and the Playstation 2’s button configuration is just as carpal tunnel syndrome inducing.

Code: Veronica is a game of inches. A survival horror convention is that the player’s resources are always limited. The director of Code: Veronica; Shinji Mikami has said in interviews that he tries to design the Resident Evil games so that the player is constantly on edge and desperate. The feeling of fear is heightened by limiting the amount of ammunition and recovery items so that the player never has quite enough to feel safe. It is a delicate balance to strike; make the game challenging but don’t let it become punishing. Code: Veronica walks that line well but can become exhausting after a while. Everything is in short supply in Code: Veronica. Ammo, First-Aid, the number of items that you can carry, even the number of times you can save the game are all severely constrained. Killing zombies in Code: Veronica can sometimes be an annoying distraction; robbing you of valuable time and resources. This forces you to plan your movements well in advance. A leads to B, which gives you access to C, but you will need an item from F, and you will need fight your way through J, K, and L to get it. The whole thing becomes at its heart a complex, three-dimensional puzzle. Everything has to be lined up and in its right place to succeed. There is a point in the latter half of Code: Veronica where I began to feel that I was actually playing a vast and bloody game of Tetris.

Sony Playstation 2
Capcom
2001

game review by Jeffrey Fleming, 2002

Do dead gods stink? Imagine if you can Throbbing Gristle’s 1978 song “Hamburger Lady” reincarnated in 2003 as a Playstation 2 video game. Picture that and you begin to step into the unrelentingly grim world of Silent Hill 3.

God is slowly dying in the womb and desperately wants to be born into the world. A debased pagan cult dreams of midwifing this profane birth and has selected Heather Mason to be the sacrificial vessel. Although Heather is a normal teenager, there are hints that her childhood may be darker than she remembers. Playing Silent Hill 3 casts you in the role of Heather as she struggles to discover the truth about her past and prevent the apocalyptic “rebirth of Paradise.”

Along the way you will explore the multilayered Bardo that is Silent Hill 3. Demoniac entities press close and the few people that you encounter may be devils with human masks. It is a lonely and menacing landscape that follows the confusing logic of nightmare. Maze-like halls shift and decay. A sepulchral air of terminal illness and charnel house gloom clings to everything. The visuals of Silent Hill 3 are an uneasy pairing of occult symbolism with the Lustmord fantasies of the criminally insane. Dried blood lit by sodium vapor is the dominate color palette. A subtle wash of digital noise gives images the grainy appearance of 16 mm atrocity footage.

The soundtrack by composer and sound designer Akira Yamaoka is alternately bracing and lush. Yamaoka uses guitar and electronics to create a sound that seems to crossbreed Glenn Branca with Angelo Badalamente. He eschews the usual creaking and groaning of spook houses and instead fills Silent Hill 3 with vast sheets of sound that suggest air raid sirens, background radiation, or the quiet hum of a dialysis machine. As a special treat, Konami has included a soundtrack CD with the game.

Isolation, madness, and disease. The loss of everything we love in an aneurysm of violence. For some it may be surprising to see these anxieties portrayed in a video game. However, Silent Hill 3 shows that game designers have the vocabulary and the technology to simulate the darkest rivers of our souls.

Sony Playstation 2
Konami
2003

game review by J.B. Fleming, 2003
Previously published in Cemetery Dance magazine, issue # 47, 2003. An extended version of this review can be found here.

Ico is Sony’s nod to the Art House. It is a game that is small, quiet, and thoughtful. It has a distinctive visual style and a haunting soundtrack. It is suffused with a feeling of loss. Ico probably has nothing to offer children.

Ico begins as a young boy is locked away inside an enormous, empty castle. The only other occupants are the spirits of previous children who were also sent to the castle to be sacrificed to its mysterious Black Queen. In his attempt to escape, the boy meets a strange, otherworldly girl named Yorda whom he must rescue. Leading this girl through the jumbled and hazardous maze of the castle is the focus of the game. Each area is a complicated puzzle and getting Yorda safely from one point to another is never simple as the castle’s spirits intermittently attempt to snatch the girl away.

The setting of Ico is distinctive and amazingly real. The castle has a complex architecture which is richly textured with rust, overgrown weeds, and moss. Mervyn Peake’s Gormenghast came to mind as I clambered to the top of a spire and looked out across a vast and crumbling ruin. Pools of warm light gathered between the shadows and an autumn breeze rustled through the trees in a lonely and decayed landscape. The music was minimal and eerie, usually taking a back seat to the sounds of the environment. Wind on water and the creak of old wood provided most of the soundtrack for my strange journey.

One small moment stands out in my mind after playing. In the past, console hardware limitations have restricted a game character’s ability to interact with the environment and game design has out of necessity fixed the number of actions that a player can take while “on stage”. Early in the game I entered an area that contained a broken down windmill surrounded by a shallow pond. I walked up to the edge of the pond and without paying attention fell in and began dog-paddling about. This was startling because I was so accustomed to the “stage scenery” aspect of game design that it never occurred to me that the pond might anything more than a pretty set decoration. Suddenly, the power of the Playstation 2 hardware sets me free and I can move about and interact within a real space.

Although the game can be completed in about 10 hours and contains no secrets that might give it replay value, mature players will be very satisfied with its note-perfect ending. It is a game that lingers in the mind like an Andrei Tarkovsky or a Terence Malick film. Ico has the quiet grace of a fairy tale told in the old style.

Sony Playstation 2
SCEA/SCEI
2001

game review by Jeffrey Fleming, 2001

Fatal Frame is a suffocating, feverish nightmare of a game. Employing a mix of jump-out-of-your-seat frights and an atmosphere of oppressive, cold dread, Fatal Frame is relentlessly tormenting.

Armed only with a camera and trapped in a haunted Japanese mansion, you must uncover the house’s morbid secret and put to rest the dense ecology of spirits that dwell within. Inside Himuro mansion, no place is safe, morning never comes, and you are completely alone in the inky darkness. Finishing the game brings the same feeling of relief that comes after waking from an awful nightmare and realizing that it was, after all, just a dream.

On the surface, game play and control stick fairly close to survival horror standards. Exploration is from a third person point of view and during ghost encounters you switch to a first person view through the camera lens finder. Combat with the spooks involves capturing their soul energy on film by snapping a picture. There are also numerous puzzles and strange secrets to decipher although none of these are terribly difficult to solve. Unfortunately, like so many other survival horror games, Fatal Frame will run you around a great deal and many locations in the mansion are visited more than once.

Where Fatal Frame completely succeeds is in capturing the claustrophobic and confusing logic of nightmares. Nameless things lurk just out of sight in the sepia toned gloom of the decaying mansion. Long hallways echo with disembodied voices and demonic whispering. In the background, music suitable for the charnel house or ritual murder pulses quietly. Just as western works of horror frequently twist Christian images for scary effect, the Buddhist and Shinto background of Fatal Frame provides a deep well of unsettling and macabre imagery. The ghosts are grotesquely deformed souls that will gnaw at the edges of you sanity. Fatal Frame is a game suffused with creeping menace and panicked fear.

Sony Playstation 2
Tecmo
2002

game review by Jeffrey Fleming, 2002

Shadow Hearts is an under appreciated gem that in certain areas represents a high water mark for console role-playing games. Directed by Izumi Hamamoto and released in 2001 to little fan fare, Shadow Hearts was hampered by a generic title (re: Shadow of Destiny, Dual Hearts, Kingdom Hearts, Okage: Shadow King, etc.), and lost in the shadow (pun intended) of Squaresoft’s Final Fantasy juggernaut. However, for the aficionados who made the effort to seek it out, Shadow Hearts delivered game play that the bigger budget and better marketed titles could not touch.

Shadow Heart’s developer, Sacnoth, got off to a rough start when they released their first game; Koudelka in 1999. It was a poorly received hybrid of survival horror and traditional RPG that stumbled badly. While Koudelka made a laudable attempt at presenting a mature and thoughtful story, it was saddled with a game system that was tedious in the extreme. I imagine that even the most masochistic players would give up before the end. Happily, Sacnoth took a good look at the mistakes of Koudelka and responded with a game that is improved in every way.

While not a direct sequel, the story of Shadow Hearts is related to Koudelka and shares certain characters and settings. Taking place in China and Europe, shortly before World War One, Shadow Hearts tells a story of powerful warlocks summoning godlike entities from beyond time and space in an effort to control the world. Only a spirited band of ragtag adventurers stand in the way. The fast paced game swings wildly between the cosmic horror of H.P. Lovecraft and the exuberant goofiness of Big Trouble in Little China. Although Shadow Hearts should not be read as a history lesson, its 20th century setting and awareness of history is a refreshing change for RPG’s. The acknowledgment of Imperial Japan’s abuses in China is also notable, particularly coming from a Japanese developer. Towards the end, the narrative looses some steam as it becomes weighed down by a succession of false endings and a profusion of characters and villains, many with under written motives. The scenario written by Matsuzo Itakura seems to really pile it on for the last third of the game when it may have been better to cut some material and tell a short but tightly focused tale.

Graphically, the game is attractive without being showy. It sticks close to the  formula long established by Final Fantasy VII of using three dimensional polygon characters and moving them around lavishly rendered two dimensional backgrounds. Character designs by Miyako Kato are large, vibrant and well animated. Adding to the game’s feverish spook house mood are some extremely surreal monsters to fight against. During combat, the special effects are vivid bursts of light and color. Although, like its progenitor Final Fantasy, the animations sometimes take a bit too long to play out. The asian themed soundtrack by Yoshitaka Hirota and Yasunori Mitsuda is excellent, sometimes rocking and sometimes delicate, but never boring

Looking at it over someone’s shoulder, Shadow Hearts might appear to be a pretty standard issue RPG. However, with controller in hand it is quickly apparent that something fresh and exciting is going on. First and foremost Shadow Hearts is a game to be played; something that many other RPG’s forget. It is in play that this game really shines.

To keep things fun, Sacnoth designed Shadow Hearts around a central game play metaphor called the Judgment Ring. This is used mostly during the turn based combat but extends to other areas of the game as well. Any action that you may take such as striking an enemy, casting a spell, or using an item requires a spin of the Judgment Ring. This involves making a series of timed button presses as a cursor swings around the ring. The speed of the cursor can vary as well as the number and spacing of the button presses. As your technique improves it is possible to effect more favorable outcomes by hitting the button at precise moments. This simple game mechanic creates a situation in which even the most minor interaction requires attention and skill. Combat is no longer the drudge work that many RPG’s make it out to be. Instead, it becomes a fast paced and exciting challenge. Other games such as Final Fantasy VIII and Legend of Dragoon have toyed with this idea but it has always appeared tacked on and has added little to the experience. Although Shadow Hearts is not an overly difficult game, the Judgment Ring brings an element of risk to every encounter. If your mind wanders during combat and you begin to fumble, a low level monster can easily eat your lunch. With Shadow Hearts, timed button presses are at the heart of the game and everything has been designed out from that. Even the frequently dry book keeping tasks of purchasing items and upgrading equipment are enlivened by the Judgment Ring as you angle for discounts and prizes. Making a perfect swing on the Judgment Ring brings a great feeling of satisfaction, knowing that you have the edge, because of skill, not luck. Occasionally silly and somewhat longer than it needs to be, Shadow Hearts remains throughout an eminently playable game.

Sony Playstation 2
Midway/Sacnoth
2001

game review by Jeffrey Fleming, 2001

As the creator of the Resident Evil series, Shinji Mikami knows a thing or two about Survival Horror. With Dino Crisis, he delivers a game that leaves out the horror but retains the creeping anxiety of his previous works. Resident Evil players will be familiar with the game’s interface and controls and will be able to jump right in. However, Mikami stretches and twists expectations just enough to keep things fresh and to advance the genre a few steps forward.

The story of Dino Crisis involves a small team of Special Forces types who are sent to a remote island to retrieve a renegade scientist who is performing some sort of mysterious Top Secret experiments. When they arrive, they find the laboratory overrun with dinosaurs and the target scientist missing. The narrative follows their attempts to find the scientist and escape from the island alive.

At first this appears to be a warmed over Jurassic Park rip-off but as the game progresses Mikami presents an interesting quantum physics explanation for the dinosaur’s presence. He skillfully designs the game so that the solution to the dinosaur mystery interweaves with the missing scientist and the escape from the island.

Dino Crisis’ game play focuses on navigating through the experimental facility that is infested with many hungry dinosaurs, including a troublesome T-Rex. Ammunition and First-Aid are in short supply and death can come mercilessly quick. In fact, Mikami does not even provide a health indicator. Damage is realistic and one or two slashes from a Raptor will pretty much end a person’s life. Because direct confrontation with the giant lizards is almost always fatal, clever thinking is required get out of dangerous situations. In addition to the deadly creatures, the facility has an elaborate security system that must be hacked into and disabled. This provides for some very well designed puzzles that are logical, internally consistent, and genuinely fun to solve.

Graphically, the game dispenses with Resident Evil’s pre-rendered two dimensional backgrounds and instead makes the leap to a completely real-time three dimensional polygon environment. This allows for some expressive camera movement and gives a good sense of moving through a real space, rather than the old feeling of navigating across a slide show. Because the game was originally created for the Sony Playstation, the polygons are necessarily low in detail. However, this is not a noticeable defect as they are representing the relatively sterile architecture of a research lab. Overall, Dino Crisis’ visuals are nicely polished for its Dreamcast release.

The music and sound for Dino Crisis are also well done. The music is unobtrusively moody with bursts of intensity during moments of action. Sound effects for the game are crisp and realistic. From the scrape of a raptor’s claw on a steel girder to the 20 ton stomp of a Tyrannosaurus, Dino Crisis has the same lush sound design you would expect from a Hollywood production.

Dino Crisis shows the possibilities for game play found in creating a realistic space with real-world rules and allowing players to think their way out of difficult situations. With smart puzzles, a believable environment, and a tightly focused goal, Dino Crisis brings the survival in Survival Horror to the forefront.

Sega Dreamcast
Capcom
2000

game review by J.B. Fleming, 2001

When reviewing games it is generally understood that you have to play them to the end before you can objectively evaluate them. This is considered professional. Of course this means you will be investing many, many hours of research into writing something that will probably net you 10 dollars in the end. Because of this I suspect that many reviewers fudge on this unwritten rule and I don’t blame them. Most games are just too long. Even the best can wear out their welcome before the credits roll. So much the worse if it is a bad game.

Silent Hill 4 begins on a high note with a powerful demo movie that promises a game full of intense freak outs. Cut together from game play footage, the clip is a three minute case study in Japanese Neo Horror. Then the game starts.

Henry Townshend wakes up one day to find himself trapped inside his standard issue, one bedroom/one bath apartment. The windows are sealed and the door is barred by chains. His stereo spits out a stream of static noise. Henry is confused and suffering from a splitting headache. I’m thinking; ‘yeah, I’ve been here before’. After wandering aimlessly around his tiny, sparsely furnished bachelor pad for a while, I realize that I really have been here before. It was back in 1992, in a mostly forgotten point-and-click adventure by Cyberdreams called “Dark Seed”.

Eventually I find an inter dimensional worm hole that leads me to a variety of impressively rendered hellscapes. Much whacking, stabbing, and stomping ensues. Frankly, the Silent Hill series’ dogged emphasis on combat as some kind of selling point for the game is tiresome. Engaging in physical combat with supernatural/hallucinatory entities never made much sense and feels increasingly out of place. Silent Hill 4 only underscores the problem by incorporating enemies that can not be killed. No matter how many times you beat them down and step on their heads they will always get up and continue chasing you. How about a Silent Hill game with no combat at all?

I gave up on the game at the halfway point when the designers made the incredible decision to loop around and make you play through every location that you’ve already been to over again. Now, I understand that back tracking and revisiting areas that you’ve previously explored is a time honored tradition in videogames, particularly in the Survival Horror genre, but Silent Hill 4 takes it to the ridiculous extreme. It’s as if you were witnessing the exact moment at which Konami collectively threw up its hands and said; “That’s it folks. We’ve got nothing.”

Side note: The Silent Hill series’ sound designer and composer; Akira Yamaoka is one of the game industry’s most interesting and radical musicians. In Silent Hill 4 his unique sound is largely absent, further weakening a deeply half-assed effort.

directed by Suguru Murakoshi

Sony Playstation 2
Konami
2004

game review by J.B. Fleming, 11-18-05

When the first Parasite Eve was released in 1998, its combination of Hollywood production values and Japanese RPG conventions seemed ripe with promise. Final Fantasy VII pointed the way and Parasite Eve embraced the future with its slick graphics and fast paced horror story. A new type of entertainment seemed to be right around the corner. Two years later we get Parasite Eve II.

Visually, the game is ravishing. Character designs for Parasite Eve II are more realistic and less anime inspired this time around. Aya has the cool beauty of a runway model and the creatures she faces are unique and disturbing. They have a sick and tormented air about them that will compel you to dispatch them as quickly as possible.

The environments that Aya moves through are rendered with such attention to detail that they are a high-water mark for the genre, surpassing even Square’s work on the Final Fantasy series. Their depiction of a broken down Rest Stop in the American Southwest is so realistic you can almost smell the desert wind.

The sound design is also outstanding. The crunch of broken glass, humming machines, and the twittering of nameless horrors bring texture and detail to the world of Parasite Eve II. The music by Naoshi Mizuta is quietly ominous, blending with the ambient sounds of the environment.

Game play centers around moving from area to area and engaging in combat with various critters. Combat is interspersed with short character dialogues, gorgeous CG cinemas, relatively simple spatial, and switch-flipping puzzles, and several extremely obscure number and password guessing puzzles. Once an area has been cleared and its story events triggered, it will re-infest with monsters that you have the option of killing or avoiding.

So away we go, blasting away at everything in sight. Ammunition and upgrades for weapons are plentiful while large numbers of enemies attack from every direction. Square has dispensed with the first game’s turn-based combat and instead opts for run and gun action. The Square button selects the target and the Right Shoulder button lets them eat lead. Aya still has her magical “Parasite Energy” that can be upgraded with experience. The game can be paused during combat to select Parasite Energy attacks and use items. Sounds fun, so far.

Then the frustration starts. Action games must have spot-on control. There should never be any disconnect between you and the character on the screen. Unfortunately, Parasite Eve II seems to go out of its way to distance you from the action. The game’s use of large 3D characters set against detailed 2D backgrounds results in confusing perspective changes when moving from one scene to another. Combat often involves shooting at enemies that are off-screen. The game attempts to alleviate this problem by providing you with a small radar screen which shows the positions of enemies that are not visible. However, aiming at small, yellow dots is hardly satisfying. Even the simple act of shooting is a clumsy, stuttering experience. Most of the weapons in the game fire in bursts and then require reloading. This results in action that is interrupted by several short pauses, followed by an even lengthier pause during which you can do nothing. In the middle of a heated battle with a swarm of enemies who are constantly in motion you may find yourself screaming and cursing, jamming frantically on the controller buttons, praying that Aya will do something; shoot, run, dance a jig, anything. Relief usually comes in the form of a Game Over screen. At this point, it seems that the game’s “Mature” rating is for the tide of expletives pouring from the unhappy player’s mouth.

Sony Playstation
Squaresoft
2000

game review by J.B. Fleming, 2001

Ages ago the Survival Horror genre was invented by a little PC game called Alone in the Dark. Many of the genre’s conventions such as polygon characters moving over pre-rendered backgrounds, fixed camera views, door unlocking puzzles, and limited resources were established in that original game. Later, Resident Evil came along to really popularize Survival Horror but Alone in the Dark was there first. Unfortunately, despite advances in technology, game design has not kept pace. Darkworks’ new Alone in the Dark game sticks very close to formulas worked out long ago. Everything you have seen before in dozens of games is present in Alone in the Dark.

One convention of Survival Horror that you have seen before is the old chestnut of requiring the player to run back and forth across the map, endlessly revisiting previously seen locations in order to solve some locked door puzzle, which opens a new area of the map that will also have to be crisscrossed a million times over. Note to game designers: this is tedious.

You have also seen the shambling zombies, the mutated dogs, and the aggravating ankle biting creatures. You have seen the completely illogical “Hanging Portrait” puzzle, and the “Rotating Statue” puzzle. Oh, and the “Guess The Number” puzzle. Can’t forget to include that one. This game even has a big mansion foyer and staircase that you will recognize if you’ve played any of the Resident Evil games.

The sound effects and music for Alone in the Dark are noteworthy for their singular awfulness. The designers made an attempt to heighten the mood with spooky ambient sound effects but they are implemented very shoddily, with grainy, low bit-rate sound loops that cut in and out haphazardly, destroying any illusion of a real environment. Stewart Copeland’s disappointing soundtrack consists of some aimless synthesizer noodling interrupted by occasional blurts of distorted noise.

The one nice thing I have to say about Alone in the Dark is that the visuals are very slick. The two dimensional backgrounds are rendered with great attention to texture and detail. To add to the sinister atmosphere Darkworks came up with an innovative lighting effect so that as your character waves his or her flashlight around, areas of the background are illuminated in real time, giving the illusion of a three dimensional space. The decayed, gothic mansion that you explore is steeped in the romance of ruins and the shiver that you feel as you poke through its crumbling halls goes long way toward selling the game in spite of its many annoyances.

If Alone in the Dark had been released a few years earlier it might have been regarded as a solid entry that meets genre expectations. However, in this day it can only be seen as a derivative also-ran that is sinking in its own mediocrity. Sad that the progenitor of Survival Horror should come to represent all of the genre’s shortcomings.

Sega Dreamcast
Infogrames/Darkworks
2001

game review by J.B. Fleming, 2002