by Russ Aaronson

Monday, August 4, 2003

These are rough times to be an independent artist.

Whether you’re talking about any one of America’s three most successful genres – film, music, or video games – the odds are heavily stacked against the lone genius, the auteur. Assuming you can even muster up the resources to complete a work in any one of these genres, you still have to find a way to get the message to the people who buy. Even if you’ve managed to spread the word about your masterpiece, getting it into their hands (without losing the shirt off your back) is even more difficult. From indie films, to garage bands, to shareware, the pride of being independent usually comes at the price of the independent stigma.

In other words, most people think “independent” is synonymous with “crap.”

There are rare exceptions (maintaining my three categories, think Clerks, Big Dipper, and Escape Velocity), but you’ll have to don your waders to cross that river smellin’ pretty. To be perfectly honest, we tend to assume that anything independent is usually something that wasn’t good enough to be picked up by a distribution outfit with money to spend. Remember, most of the “big” companies in these categories don’t actually make the item, they simply distribute it; and if they haven’t figured this out already, they will shortly (yes, I’m talking to you, Disney – just fire up PowerPoint and compare your revenue charts for Treasure Planet and Pixar’s Finding Nemo).

[Note to the reader: This is where I would normally launch into an ill-advised rant about the whole distribution process. I would have written about how media companies have left the content business for the marketing business and, as a result, they spend more time greedily massaging their money like Silas Marner than they do actually trying to bring people good stuff. I might even have taken time to suggest that this situation has led to the creation of two organizations hated by more Americans than the IRS: the RIAA, and the MPAA. Given the opportunity, I may very well have surmised that these organizations have worked so visibly to protect the money they’ve earned from things they didn’t even create that most people don’t think it’s wrong to just download their “properties,” even before they’re released. Thankfully, you were spared.]

This is where your faithful reviewer comes in. Because most of us lack the time, resources, or even the expertise to review everything that comes along (which is why you won’t see me reviewing QuarkXpress any time soon), we have a responsibility to bring you a balanced presentation of what’s out there. And even though the review climate for independent films and music has almost completely shirked this responsibility, the case isn’t the same for software. Even the “big names” in the Mac press (was that an oxymoron?) reserve space to discuss some of the smallest applications out there. It’s our duty, and the fact that many of us work for the price of free review software shows just how seriously we take this responsibility.

Part One: Wherein the reviewer actually begins discussing the game!

When the Engstrom boys first offered me the opportunity to review Alida, my heart sank. I spent a sizeable portion of last summer stumbling through Myst III: Exile, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to make that kind of commitment again. This doesn’t even account for my love/hate relationship with the non-violent/adventure/puzzle genre to begin with. To be perfectly blunt, the puzzles in these games make me feel stupid. There’s no harm in reviewing something like Unreal Tournament 2003 and admitting you suck, mainly because you’re not fifteen anymore, and you do have something resembling a life. There’s no big shot to the ego in that case, whereas “thinking games” are a different story. No matter how otherworldly they may seem, they’re realistic because they can make you feel insignificant in real life!

I was about to give Alida a pass, but a few key events changed my mind:
1) I discovered that almost the entire game (conceptual design, plot, graphics, music, puzzles, packaging, marketing, and even [gasp!] distribution) was created by one guy, named Cos, who lives in Australia.
2) I visited his website (www.alidagame.com) and found it to be compelling and informative. It even contains hints for every puzzle (and a walkthrough that’s already half finished). That’s right, friends, you don’t need to buy a twenty dollar strategy guide or Google yourself into oblivion for just one teensy hint. It’s all here, and it’s all completely free.
3) The “distribution company” who deals with Unreal Tournament 2003 (the game with four nameplates: Epic Games, Digital Extremes, MacSoft, and Atari [how the heck did that one get in there?] never even responded to our request for a review. Would I have taken the Alida review if they had sent me a copy of their game? Like the answer to the question “How many licks does it take to get to the delicious Tootsie Roll center of a delicious Tootsie Roll Pop,” the world may never know. I just thought a little honesty was in order.

Part Two: Wherein the reviewer actually does begin discussing the game.

So what happens when you go to the Alida website and order a copy of the game? Within a week you receive an envelope shipped from 41 Bundaroo Street in Australia, containing a professionally designed case holding five CD’s and a brief installation/instruction manual.

Installation goes two ways: you can either install the basic game module and swap out discs as needed, or you can clear off 3.3 gigs on your hard drive and copy all those discs to it. Though I would recommend you just install the whole magilla, I wanted to see how the game performed for people who don’t have that kind of acreage on their hard drives. [If you do decide to do things the hard way, heed my advice: install disc five. Telling you why could ruin a surprise, but trust me. Really. Just do it.]

For a puzzle game that is certain to invade your waking thoughts for a good month, the exposition is surprisingly (and refreshingly) brief. A woman named Julia pleads with you to find her husband and return him to her. His name is Arin, and he’s been gone for two weeks. You’re unceremoniously dropped off on the island where he should be, and that’s it.

I could stop there, but that wouldn’t really be fair. If you go to the website (or simply wander around for a few minutes), you’ll discover that Arin is one of four members of the rock band Alida. Apparently, Alida released one album that was bigger than Men at Work, INXS, and Midnight Oil combined (sorry about that one, Cos – I just couldn’t help myself), and then they came up with a brilliant idea: they wanted to make an eighth-wonder-of-the-world kind of theme park that was like walking through an enormous, fully operational guitar.

If any of this sounds a little … well, weird to you, then take heart. What initially seems like a rather silly idea for an adventure game becomes quite plausible. Though the idea, and then the sight of, a giant guitar crammed into the side of a rocky island caused me to take pause, I was refreshed at the whole urban legend-like atmosphere surrounding this band. For all of its spectacle, Alida carries at its core the all-too-familiar story of a gifted group spoiled by their own success and, in turn, their own excess. At times it had that VH-1 Behind the Music feel to it, and Alida sucked me in, but fast.

Part Three: Wherein the reviewer actually discusses playing the game.

Game Featues/Mechanics

Having recently played the most sophisticated installment of the most successful search-and-solve games ever made, the first thing that surprised me about Alida was that the game window didn’t actually fill the screen. This was initially a disappointment, but the compelling visuals made me forgive the game quickly enough. Navigation borrows from the Myst tradition as well, with point-and-click hand gestures allowing you to move around and manipulate items with ease. Alida even provides a “Rocket Mode” that allows you to move quickly through large sections of the island once you’ve had a good look around (and as with most of the games in this genre, this blessing becomes a curse when you continually “rocket” past a key item or visual you didn’t pick up on the first time).

The game may be saved at any point, and this should be done strategically to avoid repetition and to allow for experimentation. You will be glad to know that all of your actions are non-destructive: in other words, you can’t die, and you can’t hose a puzzle beyond repair while trying to solve it.

GraphicsThough the game isn’t as immersive or organic as Myst III (you can’t look away while a puzzle is doing its thing, and some effects [like waves] pale in comparison), I found the entire experience to be far more comfortable. The entire map seems expansive, but it’s actually very small, allowing me to get my bearings remarkably quickly.

More impressive, however, is the consistency of the game’s appearance. Every visual element of the game fits together with the finesse, and almost every area incorporates at least one, if not all of the key visuals (the sunburst, the tinted lens flares, and the musical notations). The farther along you go, the more you’re impressed. Whereas Exile left me battling with the environment at times, Alida’s visuals rarely drew me out of the game itself. For this type of game, that says a lot.

Without giving too much away, I should also mention that almost everything you see, either passively or actively, eventually helps you solve a puzzle. This will truly madden you at times, but when you’ve just worked out a problem that’s been blocking you for days, I’m betting you’ll be moved by such consistency.
As with my Exile review, I’ll forego screenshots in the review – just head over to the Alida webpage and you’ll get a better idea of how this game looks than I could provide here.

Sound

This is where things get tricky with Alida. You’ll find less of the incidental/atmospheric music than in the Myst offerings (which seems odd, since this is a game about musicians), and sometimes the music just seems to appear, and then die away without reason. Depending on whether you’re looking for a more Film-like experience (as with the Myst series), or a more naturalistic environment (as with RHEM, another new, independent release in this genre), you’ll either love or hate this aspect of the game. All told, it seems as if Alida can’t decide which way to go with respect to sound, and this detracts from the game.
Conversely, this is the first game I’ve played in which sound is incorporated into the puzzles in a deep and meaningful way. Again, this should come as no surprise in a piece about music, but I don’t think I’ll be revealing too many secrets if I remind you to play with your sound up, and probably with your headphones on.

The Puzzles

As I said in my Exile interview, it’s hard to nail down exactly what makes a puzzle “good.” Alida avoids most of the “bad” puzzle mistakes. You never miss a puzzle because you can’t control it, or give up on one because you have to hike ten miles just to try out a solution (though Alida will make you walk around a bit, the map is tight enough to keep things brief). Thankfully, even trial-and-error puzzles are few. Either you get it, or you don’t, period.

Warning! Some of the puzzles in this game are just plain dirty. I’ll keep things vague here, but Alida has a habit of “revealing” the answer to a puzzle, only for you to apply the solution, and get nothing. Once you do discover the answer, you’ll either find it terribly amusing, or totally aggravating (making it a good thing that the game designer is one long flight away!)

Also, remember that the Alida website contains plenty of clues. If you still can’t figure things out, just email Cos. I did, twice, and both times he responded within the promised twenty-four hours. Hopefully, many of you will give his game a try, and we’ll see if he can keep up with demand – it’s the least we can do to get back at him for that @#$!#@#$! Moon Tone Cabinet puzzle.

The Conclusion

When reviewing Exile, I stated that I preferred telling readers about the quality of the conclusion; after all, if the conclusion isn’t satisfying, the game won’t be either.

To be honest, I haven’t finished the game. I could have, but reviewers have deadlines, and I don’t want to give in on these puzzles quite yet. This may sound like the ultimate cop-out, but the puzzles in this game have been enjoyable enough to support just about any conclusion (I’ll append this review later if things turn out differently). I doubt you’ll be disappointed.

Part Four: Wherein the reviewer finally tells you what he thinks of the game.

I’m going to make this easy for you:
1) If you hate games like Myst (and you’ve actually played one, mind you), I doubt you’ll feel differently about Alida. Pass.
2) If you love games like Myst (and you keep going to the Cyan webpage for updates on the new game), buy Alida now
3) If you’ve been living with Morlocks and don’t know what I’m talking about in either case, still buy Alida. It’s a great puzzle game for newbies, albeit a bit on the difficult side.
4) If you could care less about anything else I’ve said, do it to support a truly independent game artist. Cos Russo has conjured up a minor masterpiece with Alida; and, if nothing else, you can consider it an investment in the future of software made by people with vision, creativity, and conscience.

Russ Aaronson
English Teacher,Pompano Beach, FL
Do you have questions or comments for Russ? Give him a shout out

Product	Alida
Company	DejaVuWorlds
MSRP	$49.99
Hits	Wonderful, dastardly puzzles. Cohesive, consistent environment. Original game concept and story. Independently conceived, designed, produced and distributed.
Misses	Not full screen, with some disappointing visuals/sequences. Some parts to heavy on the CD drive. Must order different versions for OS 9/ OS X.
Rating	(5 possible)
Requirements	350 MHz G4 or faster, MacOS 8.1 or higher/ OS 10.1.2 or higher, 21MB RAM, 185MB Available HD Space, 4x CD-ROM min., 640x480 display, thousands of colors, QuickTime 5 or higher.