Reviewed on PlayStation Vita
→ October 4, 2013Pixel art and 2D sidescrolling? At first glance, few styles of art or gameplay seem worse-suited to the survival-horror ambiance of Lone Survivor, yet good horror reveals the fear lurking in the midst of the familiar. True to form, indie developer Jasper Byrne's haunting tale upturns our ideas of what we should expect with such pixelated minimalism. Wrapped in the same aesthetic many of us still associate with early days of Mario and Zelda, Lone Survivor nevertheless manages to deliver survival horror experience on par with its richer cousins. I found it a compelling premise on the PC last year, but I've found it's especially potent on the Vita.
Byrne's premise is a deceptively simple one, following a character known only as "You" as he ekes out a scavenger's existence among pulpy pink mutants. Clad in a surgical mask resembling a grin that would spook the Cheshire Cat, Mr. You's not without a touch of the creepy himself. Notes and fragmented voices over the radio hint that our nameless hero isn't really the "lone survivor" in his apartment complex, and thus the promise of companionship adds meaning to the constant scouring for food and flashlight batteries. The constant need for food adds some necessary stress, even if going without for too long only really launches our hero into an irritating litany of grumbles about his hunger.
Ammo is as rare as Louisiana snow, and a purposely clumsy aiming mechanic ensures that stealth delivers much the same experience as does in weaponless games like Outlast and Amnesia. Nightmarish images such as hallways that could double as digestive tracts press on you at every corner, but the really trippy stuff happens back at his apartment, which serves as a save point and a spot of rest. It's here where pills send him on dreamtime rendezvous with the tale's most unsettling cast members, ranging from a laughing man who never speaks to chap with a cardboard box for a hat who comes off as nothing so much as the recycle-bin incarnation of Silent Hill 2's Pyramid Head.
Indeed, the influence of Team Silent's horror favorite hangs over Lone Survivor like a heavy blanket, but Lone Survivor isn't smothered by it. Rather, it wears it snugly. Bumps in the night play as key a role here as they did during James Sunderland's trek in 2001, and shrill screeches play the nerves like fingers on a chalkboard in the tensest moments. Sound reigns supreme here (especially with headphones), and the musical score maintains the tension even when our hero's incessant whining about his grumbling tummy threaten to verge into annoyance.
Though it exists on other platforms (and a PC version of the Director’s Cut is planned) this indie tale finds its most powerful expression on Sony's handheld. It benefits from the intimacy of cradling the small device in a darkened room, and the accessible D-pad movement and simple button-mapped actions recall the early consoles honored through Byrne's art direction. When the zombie creatures pop up on the Vita, I found myself almost recoiling as though they'd nibble my fingers. When I pushed up on the D-pad to hide in the hallway's shadows to let a mutant mosey by, I felt a spatial immersion I hadn't felt with a keyboard.
Keep in mind that I've experienced most of this before. It's a testament to Lone Survivor's power that it still manages to give me lightweight frights 17 months later, and new lighting effects, a handful of extra rooms and items, and additional endings in all manage to keep the experience fresh for the New Game mode (where, alas, much of the new content is locked away). *The changes aren't so substantial that PC veterans should rush out to buy it, but they enhance experience greatly for fresh blood.
The Director’s Cut doesn’t fix all of Lone Survivor's problems, though. Its sidescroller design means it's often a pain to orient yourself in the pathways of the apartment building even with a map, and the resulting confusion allows death to come a little too easily during one key chase scene. But that's just as true for almost every step you take outside of your apartment. Lone Survivor's true suspense lies in that death could wait behind every door, but after you've put down your fifteenth slab of rotting meat to distract another set of mutants and backtracked through the same corridor 10 times, the dull pangs of repetition start to set in.
Even so, part of the reason Lone Survivor works so well is that each playthrough yields different results, even if multiple playthroughs reveal a whiff of linearity that never quite taints the first adventure. Replay variety must come from tackling different approaches such as pacifism, with each new method leading to satisfyingly different endings that another layer of complexity to our masked protagonist's tale.
After the final cinematic ends, pages upon pages of story reveal the decisions leading to that conclusion, which also has the welcome effect of giving you an idea of what you should avoid on your playthrough. Good thing, then, that it's worth playing through again at all, especially since Lone Survivor clocks in at around five hours of gameplay (four if you know what you're doing). If it seems frightfully short for the price, keep in mind that it's also just the right length to maintain the horror vibe just as it starts to wear thin.
More...
→ October 4, 2013Pixel art and 2D sidescrolling? At first glance, few styles of art or gameplay seem worse-suited to the survival-horror ambiance of Lone Survivor, yet good horror reveals the fear lurking in the midst of the familiar. True to form, indie developer Jasper Byrne's haunting tale upturns our ideas of what we should expect with such pixelated minimalism. Wrapped in the same aesthetic many of us still associate with early days of Mario and Zelda, Lone Survivor nevertheless manages to deliver survival horror experience on par with its richer cousins. I found it a compelling premise on the PC last year, but I've found it's especially potent on the Vita.
Byrne's premise is a deceptively simple one, following a character known only as "You" as he ekes out a scavenger's existence among pulpy pink mutants. Clad in a surgical mask resembling a grin that would spook the Cheshire Cat, Mr. You's not without a touch of the creepy himself. Notes and fragmented voices over the radio hint that our nameless hero isn't really the "lone survivor" in his apartment complex, and thus the promise of companionship adds meaning to the constant scouring for food and flashlight batteries. The constant need for food adds some necessary stress, even if going without for too long only really launches our hero into an irritating litany of grumbles about his hunger.
Ammo is as rare as Louisiana snow, and a purposely clumsy aiming mechanic ensures that stealth delivers much the same experience as does in weaponless games like Outlast and Amnesia. Nightmarish images such as hallways that could double as digestive tracts press on you at every corner, but the really trippy stuff happens back at his apartment, which serves as a save point and a spot of rest. It's here where pills send him on dreamtime rendezvous with the tale's most unsettling cast members, ranging from a laughing man who never speaks to chap with a cardboard box for a hat who comes off as nothing so much as the recycle-bin incarnation of Silent Hill 2's Pyramid Head.
Indeed, the influence of Team Silent's horror favorite hangs over Lone Survivor like a heavy blanket, but Lone Survivor isn't smothered by it. Rather, it wears it snugly. Bumps in the night play as key a role here as they did during James Sunderland's trek in 2001, and shrill screeches play the nerves like fingers on a chalkboard in the tensest moments. Sound reigns supreme here (especially with headphones), and the musical score maintains the tension even when our hero's incessant whining about his grumbling tummy threaten to verge into annoyance.
Though it exists on other platforms (and a PC version of the Director’s Cut is planned) this indie tale finds its most powerful expression on Sony's handheld. It benefits from the intimacy of cradling the small device in a darkened room, and the accessible D-pad movement and simple button-mapped actions recall the early consoles honored through Byrne's art direction. When the zombie creatures pop up on the Vita, I found myself almost recoiling as though they'd nibble my fingers. When I pushed up on the D-pad to hide in the hallway's shadows to let a mutant mosey by, I felt a spatial immersion I hadn't felt with a keyboard.
Keep in mind that I've experienced most of this before. It's a testament to Lone Survivor's power that it still manages to give me lightweight frights 17 months later, and new lighting effects, a handful of extra rooms and items, and additional endings in all manage to keep the experience fresh for the New Game mode (where, alas, much of the new content is locked away). *The changes aren't so substantial that PC veterans should rush out to buy it, but they enhance experience greatly for fresh blood.
The Director’s Cut doesn’t fix all of Lone Survivor's problems, though. Its sidescroller design means it's often a pain to orient yourself in the pathways of the apartment building even with a map, and the resulting confusion allows death to come a little too easily during one key chase scene. But that's just as true for almost every step you take outside of your apartment. Lone Survivor's true suspense lies in that death could wait behind every door, but after you've put down your fifteenth slab of rotting meat to distract another set of mutants and backtracked through the same corridor 10 times, the dull pangs of repetition start to set in.
Even so, part of the reason Lone Survivor works so well is that each playthrough yields different results, even if multiple playthroughs reveal a whiff of linearity that never quite taints the first adventure. Replay variety must come from tackling different approaches such as pacifism, with each new method leading to satisfyingly different endings that another layer of complexity to our masked protagonist's tale.
After the final cinematic ends, pages upon pages of story reveal the decisions leading to that conclusion, which also has the welcome effect of giving you an idea of what you should avoid on your playthrough. Good thing, then, that it's worth playing through again at all, especially since Lone Survivor clocks in at around five hours of gameplay (four if you know what you're doing). If it seems frightfully short for the price, keep in mind that it's also just the right length to maintain the horror vibe just as it starts to wear thin.
More...
