Half-Life: Alyx review – the blockbuster that wasn’t

In another reality, Half-Life: Alyx was the blockbuster AAA title that catapulted VR into the gaming mainstream. That didn’t happen, of course, for various reasons that don’t need to be extrapolated here. But no matter the context, we can appreciate the art: a smartly staged, vividly detailed, rock-solid first-person shooter that delivers numerous “wow” moments, caked in an air of grim grandiosity—part Orwellian dystopian, part alien invasion sci-fi. 

We play the titular character (voiced by Ozioma Akagha) who was introduced in 2004’s highly influential Half-Life 2, which is widely considered one of the greatest video games of all time. Alyx takes place five years prior and is also based in City 17, a metropolis occupied by an alien empire known as the Combine, who’ve taken over earth. The narrative is essentially a rescue mission in which Alyx pursues her father Eli (James Moses Black), a resistance leader captured by the alien swine. Accompanying her remotely, delivering guidance and comic relief, is the wisecracking hacker Russell (Rhys Darby).

Many of the game’s “wow” moments occur outside, when we get a taste of the scope and scale of this decayed woebegone world, where massive War of the Worlds-esque robots stomp around like kids in a sandpit. The experience begins on a balcony looking out onto a monstered city, this restricted but scenic space being a good way for the developers to visualise a striking environment without the player being able to, or expecting to be able to, navigate through it. 

Going forward, there’s a stingy amount of exterior locations. On the rare occasions that we do venture outside, the game tends to pull us back inside quickly; it’s more comfortable inside, where space can be more easily managed and restricted. Expect lots of cemented-coloured, fungus-splotched environments strewn with boxes and barrels, and lots of corridors and hallways, which are convenient for developers, closing in the playing space and presenting linear passageways. They’re also narrative thoroughfares, connecting plot points and set pieces. 

Despite my respect for what the developers at Valve achieved, Half-Life: Alyx was never intended to define what truly distinguishes VR from other mediums, let alone massage those differences into unique features—notwithstanding some enjoyable gimmicks here and there, including the ability to pick up objects by flicking your wrists. 

If we consider this VR’s earliest “blockbuster” (quotation marks applied because the game did not fulfill the business expectations of a blockbuster), it’s telling, however, that it uses a first-person perspective. Not because this is rare, but because of the opposite, first-person being the dominant camera position in a medium that—more than any other—replicates the experience of being “behind the eyes.” In terms of camera positions and presentation styles, VR is a broad church, but Alyx reminded us that first-person is a natural fit.

Despite the game not containing anything radically inventive, there are certainly moments that deliver the goods atmospherically, especially during its final half hour (which I will discuss now; spoiler-wise, consider yourself warned). With about 20 minutes left on the clock, Alyx spectacularly flips the nature of physics: we find ourselves high in the air, navigating through “Point Extraction” into an apartment building, where things are topsy-turvy and wrong-way-up. Rocks float upwards, defying gravity. Ceilings and walls become floors, and floors become ceilings and walls. It’s not quite an Escher painting but it’s getting there.

This is effective for a grand finale, because the core sensations are spatial and environmental. Years after Alyx’s initial release, a mod was released that converted it into a flatsceen experience, playable without a headset—but it’s hard to imagine this port having anywhere near the same oomph. Still, the very fact that it can be comfortably converted into a two-dimensional production proves that the experience was never radically inventive; it doesn’t want to pioneer new storytelling possibilities.