Monster Mania is a monthly column celebrating the unique and varied monster designs in horror gaming. Minor spoilers ahead for Alien: Isolation
With Ridley Scott’s 1979 masterpiece Alien, audiences recoiled in terror at the sight of the two most terrifying monsters to ever grace the silver screen: the xenomorph and face hugger. These creatures have dominated movies and games set within the Alien universe for 50 years. And while these monsters continue to terrify newcomers and lifelong fans alike, we are reaching a point of stagnation within the expected horrors of the Alien series.
While more recent games, such as Aliens: Fireteam Elite and Aliens: Dark Descent, have introduced more obscure varieties of xenomorphs, moving forward, the series needs to prioritize creative risks in pushing the IP forward. The 2014 game Alien: Isolation provided one such risk: not all series additions have to be extraterrestrial.
Previously, for Monster Mania, I highlighted Alien: Isolation‘s unparalleled design of the xenomorph that patrols the halls of the Sevastopol station. There is, however, another horror aboard that ship that is equally deadly yet more sinister in its origin and utilization.
The Working Joe.
One aspect of Alien: Isolation that I seldom see receiving much praise is the game’s sublime and simultaneous blending of its two narratives: the plight of the game’s protagonist, Amanda Ripley, and that of humanity in the space age. For a game set hundreds of years in the future, sequestered between the events of Alien and Aliens, humanity still struggles with many of the same socioeconomic conflicts as our current reality.
The privatization and commercialization of space have shockingly led to mega-corporations, such as the favorite series good guys Weyland-Yutani, engaging in a race with their competitor, the Seegson Corporation, to see whose cancerous capitalist practices can infect the galaxy the quickest. The result is that human labor is again exploited in the name of profit shares, moving the needle ever so slightly in the company’s favor.
The answer to this problem is Working Joes. These blank-faced synthetics resemble crash dummies that wear maintenance jumpsuits and patrol the Servastapol, carrying out engineer or security duties. Their evident synthetic nature results from Working Joes being a low-cost alternative to Weyland-Yutani’s more sophisticated and superior human-appearing synthetics (e.g., Ash).
Working Joes are the station’s life force and key to ensuring its integrity stays intact while also, and perhaps more cynically, serving as inexpensive and controllable whipping boys. Working Joes are (initially) docile, yet their demeanor remains unsettling. Their monotone voice and blunt responses frequently remind players that despite their humanoid appearance, they are hollow shells.
Initially, Working Joes are passive, so long as players do not enter restricted areas. However, after exploring the station, things turn for the worse. The Station’s AI, Apollo, is taken over by Weyland-Yutani as the struggling Seegson corporation sells and transfers the station and synthetics aboard to their control. Weyland-Yutani instructs Apollo to assign a new directive to the Working Joes, that directive being to ensure the survival of the xenomorph aboard the station at all costs.
The Working Joes’ 180 protocol morphs these subservient shells into a patroling authoritarian force, operating at the behest of their corporate overlords. When hostile, Working Joes’ comical deadpan delivery turns sinister as they hunt the player when alerted to their presence. When actively pursuing the player, a Working Joe will say things such as, “I’m not going anywhere, you might as well show yourself,” or “tut tut”.
Despite their crashdummy appearance, Working Joes are one of the most dangerous enemies players will face on the station, given their toughness. When the player comes within arms reach of a Working Joe, the unit will grab and pummel the player, whose only recourse is to button mash until breaking free from their steely grasp. Even firearms are surprisingly ineffective, requiring numerous shots to drop one. And the thing about gunfire is that it almost always draws the attention of the perfect organism patrolling the station.
Amanda’s best recourse is to utilize either the stun baton or EMP mine, which will shortcircuit the Working Joes momentarily, giving the player enough time to duck into a vent or locker to hide until the Working Joe abandons its search. When a Working Joe loses the player, they will audibly announce their alert status, saying, “returning to assigned tasks” or “I will get to the bottom of all of this.” This is an essential facet of why sound design is so imperative in stealth games, as keen listening is as critical as keeping an eye out.
While rare, Working Joe’s deadpan demeanor can occasionally be funny, a prime example being when they encounter the xenomorph. When face to face with the perfect organism, the Working Joe ponders aloud, “What are you?” or “unidentified species,” before the two go their separate ways. While they may not work together in hunting the player, these brief and rare interactions can act as a distraction for the player to sneak through a vent or pay between rooms.
For Alien: Isolation, the Working Joes are both unsettling adversaries and help ensure the xenomorph is not over-utilized, thus over-exposing the player to this monster. Naturally, after over 10 hours and countless deaths, the player will become intimately familiar with the xenomorph. However, worthwhile human and synthetic enemy additions help preserve the mystique and terror of the xenomorph early, making the opening hours of Alien: Isolation some of the scariest moments in a contemporary horror game.
Categorized:Editorials
