The 90’s have long since passed, though the remnants of the survival horror’s threads linger on. Alisa is a game developed by Caspar Croes, who has faithfully interwoven a ps1 art-style, labyrinthian environments and puzzles along with ammo and resource scarcity together to form a stunning rendition of the 90’s survival horror style. Set against the backdrop of a large, interconnected manor reminiscent of the Spencer mansion teeming now, not with the undead, but with malignant creatures and puppets. All the areas within, at once juxtaposing yet weaving through interconnected passageways and transitory halls create a twisted and uncanny playground for us to navigate. One in which we Arrive, based on the pretence of stolen plans thieved by a suspiciously fleeing figure. It’s a premise which serves sufficiently to retain our attention. What ensues is the true delight, a tight 4-5 hour experience boasting strong replay value, Alisa is a must-play for fans of 90’s survival horror, or those wishing for a gateway into the past.

Befitting of the survival horror mantle, Alisa makes no concessions for mainstream appeal. It is a vision of one Caspar Croes, whose name along with his wife Arisa, appears recurrently throughout the credits. Initially beginning its life on kickstarter, the game blossomed into a realm of cult appeal. Though make no mistake, even for one as I, who finds solace in the mechanics of the Playstation 2 era of survival horror, this game’s often brutal mechanics caught me by surprise. The opening hours demanded that I play to the game’s tune, adjusting my typical play style of avoiding enemy encounters at all costs, instead pivoting to one which saw me tackling almost each and every one I encountered. When downed, these enemies drop toothwheels, these being the game’s currency required for saving and purchasing items. Now toothwheels can be found spread sparsely throughout the mansion, though more often than not it proves beneficial to engage with the game’s enemies to acquire upgrades and add new additions to your arsenal.

The game, though short, is not sparse in content nor variety. Its richness comes when the game’s bosses are defeated, granting the player a select array of weapons, modifications, or keys to unlock outfits. Dark souls anyone? I’ll see myself out… This surprised me in all honesty. The archetypal bounty of survival horror brings either fresh ammo or a new weapon. Alisa flips this on its head, presenting unique weapons wielded by each boss. All of which can be purchased from “Pol”, the game’s merchant and warden of the save room, whose cubbyhole also becomes home to another vendor, who allows for the purchase of said boss weapons. With such a diverse array of weaponry at one’s fingertips, paired with the archetypal shotguns, pistols, melee weapons and their accompanying upgrades, Alisa presents us with a distinctly unique roster of tools to erase its denizens from the face of the manor. The shop is also home to a plethora of upgrades, weaponry and the aforementioned arsenal derived from the game’s boss encounters. Modifications can also be purchased here, allowing for auto aim, dodging and other passive and ‘special’ abilities to aid in combat and exploration.

The aforementioned enemies also come in a slew of vividly varied shapes and sizes. These range from puppets, creatures of stone, aquatic decaying underdead, a stalker enemy clad in a black veil, insects and even unique bosses; five to be specific. Each one bears its own attack timings, exploitable moves, hazards and weaknesses akin to the undead of Resident Evil 1’s Spencer mansion. Each makes sense in its contextual placement too, as the areas of the game bring with them a new range of enemies to dispatch as one sees fit. Paired with this, the game ushers in its bosses with a frightfully engaging frequency. As I spent more time in the mansion of Alisa, I found that every area was balanced in both pacing, enemy placement and frequency along with the appearance of the bosses. Never was I overwhelmed nor underwhelmed by the ensuing or prior areas, all which bolstered my desire to progress onward. The polished facets of the manor never failed to surprise me.

Where other survival horror games stumble in their boss design, Alisa succeeds. Ranging from maniacal wielders of cruel machinery, undersea abominations of stone and tentacle, a warrior carved from rock to the game’s closing two fights which remain equal in their variety, if not a tad easy in the final boss’ case. To reach each one I backtracked, pressed onward, got lost and memorised the entirety of the mansion’s layout. A compliment which I find myself frequently unable to reward other survival horror titles with. With recurring frequency one shall find themself passing through the halls, stairwells and hidden paths of the manor. What ensues is a fervent memorisation of danger zones, safe points, efficient routes to backtrack through and where resources lie. If given a pen and paper, I could quite easily scrawl out a crude estimation of the game’s numerous areas. Which, for me, is one of the core unspoken tenements, upon which the intrinsic link to the sublime systems of memorisation and terror are formed.

Now, not all was smooth during my runtime. The occasional bug resulted in some loss of progress. Having interacted too quickly with Pol on a number of occasions, I’d find my game softlocking me in the menu, resulting in a restart. This also came at a frustrating point in the game’s final boss, which bafflingly saw me unable to shoot with my magnum, warranting another restart. I was so close too! One damn shot away, and it’d be mine! Ah well, regardless, these were infrequent and didn’t impede upon my playthrough to the point of quitting. I found myself yearning to discover what lay beyond the locked door, or what other monstrosities I may find strewn around the manor’s interior and surrounding grounds. I must admit I expected more from a near one man developer, though to my surprise these were thankfully astonishingly infrequent and only caused minor inconveniences.

For a particularly minute development team, Alisa is a triumph. Both faithful yet innovative, nostalgic yet fresh. The game evidences its inspirations, wearing it on its sleeve, though this hasn’t impeded nor dogmatised Croes’ efforts to create a pure and unaltered vision all of his own making. Its uncanny approximations of interiors, the low-poly haunting of its enemies and the ambiance conjured by its meticulously placed camera angles culminate in a hauntingly beautiful entry into the survival horror genre. Do not mistake Croes’ vision for a cheap attempt to capitalise on nostalgia. This is a tight and exceedingly varied experience that will stand as a testament to the benefits of remaining true to one’s vision. Alisa is honest in its encapsulation of both past and present. Croes’ work here has crafted this transportive world, along with a suitably retro soundtrack, a testament to his and his wife, Arisa’s, work. I applaud Alisa to the utmost degree.