AV Club: I like the way space looks in Alien: Isolation—the inky blackness of the void outside, the amber starlight spilling in through a window. It’s resplendent. But you don’t get to see much space in Alien: Isolation. Instead you get to see the monochromatic hallways of the Sevastopol space station, variously scorched and graffitied. You get to see a lot of dreary offices, abandoned and indistinguishable, as well as any number of sleek metal access tunnels, disused elevator shafts, and dimly lit vents. But what you get to see most of all in Alien: Isolation is lockers. The interiors of lockers, more specifically—person-sized coffins of the same dull gray steel, each fitted with a narrow window of horizontal slats. You’re forced to spend many hours standing in these lockers, waiting, staring ahead at the same postcard tacked to the inside door, at the same Post-it note bearing the same message—Please order more of above—stuck on every one of what must be many hundreds of lockers littered throughout the station. All you can do is get used to it.