Alan Wake - A Writer Losing Himself
Alan (center) with his agent and friend Barry (right) amidst a discussion. Credit to Remedy — screenshots used captured on my most recent playthrough of AWR
Alan Wake is a brilliant piece of art; it’s a game, of course, but it’s more than just that. A meta-narrative; a book come to life; a manifestation of a man’s deepest problems. Alan Wake follows, well, Alan Wake, a writer stuck in a years-long rut as he and his wife Alice take a vacation to the quaint little town of Bright Falls, Washington to get away from the strain and stress of life.
The lovebirds head to a beautiful cabin at Lover’s Lake caldera, a picturesque little spot on a little islet that’ll provide ample room for relaxation and comfort. Alan and his wife are very close, flirting often and doing their best to support each other in their darker moments.
Alan, however, has a history of… difficulties; he struggles with depression, anger issues, and in general can just be an asshole. Alan is quick to throw punches at people who piss him off, quicker to spiral in on himself, and downright speedrunning when it comes to drowning in the self-hate and loathing that comes with depression. I mention this all, since it serves to paint a picture of who Alan is and why he does what he does.
Alan’s wife, seeking to help him in his years-long fight with his writing, reveals that she’s formed a plan to help him: setting a typewriter up in the cabin’s second-floor study. Alan, still struggling to face his issues, turns on her and blows up at her for it before storming out of the house. He soon hears Alice screaming for help and rushes back in to find her missing; Alan follows her sounds, is drawn toward the edge of the islet. The nightmare begins, the lake hungers.
Alan Wake is about many things, all at once: it’s about Alan hunting for his wife; it’s about Alan’s manuscript coming to life and changing the very fabric of the world; it’s about a man getting over his writer’s block and his anger and the crushing, crippling chains of alcoholism and depression. The Darkness is double-edged, a real malevolent force and a representation.
Words come to life, townsfolk become the very shadows that seek to drown you, manuscript pages Alan himself has written can be found foreshadowing how this story will go. With the help of the town Sheriff and Alan’s agent Barry (my beloved) Alan must force the Darkness back, change the story he’s written, and put an end to this nightmare once and for all.
The tools Alan uses are also worth mentioning; he’ll have access to guns and even a few throwable items (like flares and flashbang grenades) but nothing will hurt the Taken (the enemies the Darkness throws at you) on it’s own. These things must be illuminated, either by Alan himself or his surroundings, before any damage can be done. Alan’s primary way of doing this will be the various flashlights one can find in Bright Falls, but lamps, car lights, and even exploding barrels will do the job.
I’ve mentioned a few times how Silent Hill, Pathologic, Fatal Frame, Metro — games such as those — have been a massive influence in my own fiction work; this is true. BUT, Alan Wake is an equally massive influence, a shadow looming over my own work as I write. I feel an intrinsic connection to Alan and his struggles (though I’m not an alcoholic, to be clear, but I relate to the other issues he fights). It’s something I’m hesitant to mention: I myself struggle with anger issues (specifically tied-to and relating to my own ongoing struggle with depression and entirely aimed at myself), and to see Alan, a writer whose best days are undercut by many similar scars, is… both frightening and comforting. I see a lot of my own mannerisms and struggles and regrets in a character like Alan, whether I want to or not.
The version I played (and am replaying for the Xth time) is Alan Wake Remastered, and as a result I’ve been going through its add-on content too. This depiction of depression and mental entrapment is taken to extremes, with Alan’s inner self screaming at you through TV’s and radios and having multiple actual breakdowns while stuck in the Dark Place. It’s both a testament to how talented the two actors are (Ilkka Villi, the talented actor who models Alan’s likeness and physical depictions via said TV segments — and Matthew Porretta, the equally skilled actor who handles the impressively wooden moment-by-moment dialogue and hauntingly deep breakdown-hysterics). These two work in fluid motion to bring the character to life in some really funny moments, while other moments are downright haunting in their portrayal (see the previously-mentioned breakdowns in the addendum add-ons).
A brief example of Alan’s physical actor being shown during a gameplay segment. Yes, the scene is as weird as it looks.
The way Alan Wake as a story flips between cheesy tropes and painful truths, the way it writes fiction-come-to-life alongside meta-narrative horror, the way it all expands and deepens, it all makes for a phenomenal game, one I can’t recommend enough. Please try this game if it sounds like it’s in your wheelhouse. It’s not a lake, it’s an ocean; Sam Ocean.
That’s it, that’s the one joke you get with this one. Thank you Remedy, I love your work. I’m beyond excited to see where the story goes in AW2; I’ll be writing about that one soon enough.
