Eve, Peter Gabriel's second excursion into the realm of multimedia, is a quasi-game where your duty is to change the world into a utopian haven of art and music through interaction with a psychedelic landscape. What begins as an odious trek across a muddy slosh pit may progress into a Sunday stroll through a lush paradise - but only if you click on the proper stones and unearth the correct clam-shells.
Gabriel attempts to meld music and art into something that resembles an adventure game. But while both elements are present in full force, the effect is never seamless. His landscapes incorporate the visual art of three skillful talents, and sound bites of his music abound, but the transitions between elements are as muddy as Eve's initial environment. Travel within the game is allowed only through "portals," which are revealed when you discover three specific art/sound elements on a given screen. This involves endlessly sweeping the screen with your mouse, as these components only reveal themselves under a glowing cursor; even then they may be decoys. Portal navigation is a confusing affair as well, and often requires repeatedly retracing one's steps. The backgrounds in Eve are attractive, but the redundancy becomes tiresome. Many areas of Eve are revealed only after viewing video clips of men and women grousing about their emotional and sexual needs, and this only adds to the game's overall level of pretension.
One interesting area of Eve is the IMX room, where you can cut and paste the musical elements discovered on your sojourn into song. Your auditory creations can be recorded and incorporated into a surreal rock video. This makes for a nice little time killer before returning to your environmental crusade, but it isn't enough to overcome Eve's flaws - it's a lavishly constructed audio-visual tour, but it is no more enriching than a day spent watching MTV.