One level, however, serves as the exception to the boredom, and it's telling that it's the only level in which you don't begin with a gun. You push forward carefully, occasionally forced to remain still lest you draw a xenomorph's attention with the sound of your sloshing. A creature--or several--might stride right up to you, stare you down, and then return to a resting state before you are safe to continue. Eventually you must weld doors shut behind you to escape a pursuing alien's clutches, which infuses the level with a sense of fear and uncertainty. It's a clever, menacing sequence that puts you on the defensive.
Yawning is contagious. How appropriate, then, that adding other players to the mix doesn't offer the needed explosive boost--it actually makes the experience less enjoyable. If you use the matchmaking option, online cooperative play requires four players to start the match. Only if you have buddies to invite--and only if you switch the networking type to "friends only"--can you limit your match to fewer. (The console versions also support split-screen co-op for two.) Your friends don't take the place of AI companions; instead, they are added to the roster, leading to ridiculously cramped exploration in four-player matches in which players and non-player characters fight for elbow room and try to shoot xenomorphs rather than the back of teammates' heads.
Even worse, many of these levels were clearly designed without co-op play in mind. The aforementioned stealth level--the game's most dramatic--is a sloppy mess devoid of tension when played by a full crew. For instance, should one player move too far ahead, the others teleport to him, potentially triggering nearby aliens to annihilate a defenseless teammate. Furthermore, having others join you destroys the narrative, making certain elements of it laughably nonsensical. Co-op feels thrown together without any regard for how it affects the game's challenge and flow.
Competitive play finds more success, because the unpredictability of other players leads to occasional moments of tension. All four modes pit a team of marines against a team of aliens, though Escape is the standout among them. Here, four marines make their way through alien-infested territory from one mark to the next, hoping to escape the wrath of the acid-spitting, sharp-clawed opposition. As a marine, there's a sense of camaraderie missing from the campaign; you must have each other's back, protecting each other from the alien onslaught while you wait for elevators to descend and steel doors to open. As an alien, it's satisfying to slink toward the marines with your teammates and swipe your talons across their faces, hoping to down each squad member and thus bring their plans to a screeching halt.
Survivor mode hits similar notes, with four marines trying to simply stay alive for the allotted time before the xenomorph team can slaughter them. The other modes--Team Deathmatch and a capture-the-node variation called Extermination--are more mundane. No matter which mode you choose, however, you can't escape Colonial Marines' sloppier elements. You can skitter up walls and across ceilings as an alien, but there's no telling which surfaces you will stick to and which you won't. This can lead to awkward moments in which your plans falter because you have to mess with your positioning when you'd rather be messing up marines. Additionally, issues like screen stuttering when entering vents and when in spectator mode make online play feel unfinished.
The first two Alien films are steeped in mystery and anxiety, qualities all but absent in developer Gearbox's lackluster interpretation. Instead, Aliens: Colonial Marines is a shallow bit of science-fiction fluff with cheap production values and an indifferent attitude. It's forgettable enough to deem unnecessary, which is a grievous sin for a game in a universe brimming with so much potential.
