In Alan’s nightmare New York City, he can rewrite entire scenes to change a “plot” in the scene he’s presented. He does this from his mind’s writers room. It’s an enjoyable mechanic since it plays into Alan’s abilities but also lets you, as a player, shape the world by mixing and matching plots and scenes. New information, resources, and paths are revealed.
Saga, meanwhile, has a Mind Place she can enter at any time, complete with a red thread murder board and coffee machine. Here, she can keep track of suspects, evidence, and so on. Saga’s ability is to “sense” the truth behind people’s words, giving her psychic insight. Saga makes deductions from evidence she discovers, driving the plot forward. It’s a pity that there’s little player involvement in her deductions, but it does streamline the process.
Like Control and Quantum Break, Alan Wake 2 mixes live-action cutscenes with gameplay. But the graphics are so astounding, it will take a moment to distinguish between the two. Lighting, design, and art are so impeccably put together with the confidence of a team that knows exactly the world they want to create, the story they want to tell, and the feelings they want to evoke. Alan’s New York is covered in stunning graffiti, litter, broken lights, neon signs — a sickening testament to capitalistic vanity and deterioration, mirroring Alan’s own wasted years as a hotshot writer. Saga’s small-town America has shaking woods, monstrous trees, and creaking cabins — wrapped in a sound direction that in itself would terrify me, with sudden jumpscares that quickly fill your entire screen.
But every “chapter” is unique, and every set piece requires new consideration. There is no way to feel grounded such that you can predict where Remedy will take you or what it will expect out of you. There’s a confidence here, in theme and story — in weirdness — that demonstrates a studio at the top of its game. So rarely do we see such freedom in a studio to carve out its identity in its titles, with such high production values and skill.