Have you ever wanted to run around a spaceship while trying not to get eaten by something slimy and unpleasant? Well, strap in! This review is all about panic, plotting, and pressing your luck with Alien, the board game that made my friends scream louder than my smoke alarm. I got together with my usual crew, locked the snacks away (to avoid stress-eating), and played until we all had trust issues. Let’s see if this classic delivers edge-of-your-seat fun or just leaves you lost in space.
How It Plays
Alien is a game where you and your friends try to survive on a doomed spaceship while one of you secretly plays as the Alien. If you trust anyone, you might be in for a nasty surprise!
Setting up
Lay out the ship’s board in the center of the table. Everyone picks a character and grabs the matching standee and card. Shuffle the role cards—one Alien, the rest humans—and deal them out face down. Only the Alien knows who they are! Spread item and event cards on the side. Place all miniatures in the starting room. Now stare at your friends with suspicion.
Gameplay
Each round, players take turns moving through rooms, searching for gear, fixing the ship, or locking doors (if you’re paranoid like me). Humans work together to escape or defeat the Alien, while the Alien pretends to help but sabotages everyone at the worst time. Arguments start early and trust falls apart fast—that’s the real challenge! Dice rolls decide if attacks or repairs work. Hidden roles and secret objectives keep everyone guessing.
Winning the Game
Humans win if at least one person escapes alive, or the Alien is defeated. The Alien wins by eating everyone or stopping all escapes. Basically, if you’re a human, assume you’re dinner unless you outsmart your friends (good luck with my crew).
Want to know more? Read our extensive strategy guide for Alien.
Game Mechanics and Player Interaction in Alien: Tension on Every Turn
If you’ve ever wanted your game night to feel more like a late-night horror movie than pizza and chill, Alien’s mechanics deliver full throttle. The game tosses you and your friends onto the ill-fated Nostromo, and believe me, paranoia sets in faster than you can say “facehugger.” Right from the get-go, Alien uses asymmetrical roles. One lucky soul gets to play the Alien, whose main goal is to hunt and terrify, while the rest of us pitiful humans bumble around trying not to die. This keeps everyone guessing. Suspicion flies faster than dice, with lots of side-eye and wild accusations. (In my group, you’d think we all had something to hide. Maybe we do, but that’s for another review.)
The core mechanic is a wicked mix of hidden movement and action selection. The Alien’s moves are secret, so the tension ramps up as the humans try to deduce its location. Communication between players is key, and here’s where the game really shines. I’ve never seen my friend Bob get so heated about whether we should check the ventilation shaft. Alien rewards smart teamwork, but punishes lone wolves. If you wander off, expect to get eaten. That’s not a theory; that’s firsthand experience. You can try out your clever plans, but one wrong guess and you’re dinner.
Alien does suffer a smidge from luck – some card draws can feel mean, but it’s mostly balanced by strategy and bluffing. If luck scares you, be warned, but overall the mechanics make for a wild, tense, and interactive experience every session. Next, we’ll see if the theme and immersion can hold up under the stress of surviving a xenomorph—and my friends’ bad acting!
Thematic Tension and Deep Space Atmosphere in Alien
If you’ve ever wanted to feel like you’re trapped on a doomed spaceship with a sneaky alien stalking your crew, Alien does a wild job ratcheting up the pressure. The whole game drips with paranoia and suspense. I mean, my palms were sweatier than a Xenomorph on taco night. The board looks like a claustrophobic space station, complete with teeny tiny corridors and creepy nooks. Every time you move down a dark hallway, you just know something awful might crawl out. The game doesn’t let you forget for even a second that a hungry alien is just out of sight, which gave my friends plenty of excuses to scream, jump, and accuse each other of being the real monster.
The theme is everywhere—character cards have special stress markers, adding real desperation. Each player has a different role, from the stressed-out captain to the sneaky android (spoiler: our android actually tried to help the alien win. Thanks, Greg). The alien itself is unpredictable and, honestly, a bit too creepy for a cardboard cutout. Every turn, there’s tension. Every move, someone whispers, “This place gives me the creeps,” and everyone nods while avoiding eye contact with the air vent tokens. Even the game’s event cards have that 80’s horror movie flavor, with stuff like ‘Hull Breach’ and ‘Lost in the Void’ that feel pulled straight from a sci-fi disaster flick.
If you’re after an immersive experience, Alien drags you into its story and refuses to let go. Next up, let’s see if this deep space nightmare is something you’ll actually want to experience again—and again—and again…
Replayability and Game Length: Will Alien Get Old on Your Table?
Here’s where the rubber meets the space boot. After a half-dozen games of Alien, I’d say it’s got a decent amount of replayability, but maybe not infinite. The random setup keeps things fresh since you’ll never be sure who’s hiding what or where the danger will pop up. My pal Dave still insists on checking the air ducts first, even though they’ve only held an alien egg once. (He’s nothing if not stubborn.)
The different roles you can play also keep it interesting. One moment you’re the sneaky scientist, the next you’re the panicked engineer who left a wrench in the reactor room. Every game, we see new betrayals and risky plays. The game encourages you to try out new tactics—sure, sometimes I botch it and get eaten in round two, but that’s half the fun, isn’t it?
Now, about game length. Alien promises a session of about 60-90 minutes, and that holds up. We’ve wrapped it up in under an hour when my friends turn on each other faster than hungry cats, but it can drag to the full 90 if everyone gets cautious or chatty. It never overstays its welcome, though—I’ve never wanted to tap out early, even when doomed.
With all that said, the next stop on our galactic tour: component quality and artwork. Is Alien all shiny spaceships or cardboard cutouts? Buckle in, because we’re about to find out!
Component Quality and Artwork in Alien: Worthy of Deep Space?
Right, let’s talk about the stuff you actually put your hands on when you play Alien—the bits and bobs! First off, the board itself is thick and sturdy. I knocked over two cups of tea during one session and, no lie, the thing survived. I can’t promise the same for your sense of dignity if you get eaten by the alien, but your board will be fine.
Now, the miniatures! The alien figure looks menacing and creepy, just like my old biology teacher. The crew tokens also have nice little details that make them feel like individuals and not just space-fodder. Cards are glossy and easy to shuffle, even after several sweaty-palmed plays (I blame Gary, he sweats under pressure). The tokens don’t feel cheap—none of that wobbly cardboard nonsense you see in bargain bin games.
As for the artwork, Alien does not go for the bright and cheery. It’s all shadows, blues, and deep blacks, which really sells the fear of being alone in space with something hungry. The overall vibe just oozes sci-fi horror and honestly, a few times I found myself checking over my shoulder during the game. Bonus points to whoever designed the box, because it just looks cool sitting on the shelf. It’s the kind of game my friends ask to play just from the cover alone.
Would I recommend Alien based on components and artwork? Absolutely. If your group loves a good-looking, tactile game, this one is right up there. Just keep your tea away from the play area, trust me.
Conclusion
And that wraps up my review of Alien! This game’s a wild ride of paranoia, bluffing, and last-minute betrayals. The theme seeps into every turn, the bits feel nice, and my group couldn’t stop yelling at each other (in a good way, mostly). Sure, a bit of luck sneaks in, and if your group hates not knowing who to trust, it might stress out Uncle Bob. But if you like tense teamwork with a side of sneaky strategy, Alien deserves a spot on your table. Just don’t blame me if your friendships get a little weird after—you were warned!
