The End is Nigh: Halo

By Martin Gaston

‘The End is Nigh’ is a regular column by Play.tm’s Martin Gaston, pondering the nature of videogame endings and why we do or don’t choose to finish the games we play. This week: Halo, and what happens when narrative takes control.

For a title that almost single-handedly redefined the FPS genre, Halo has its fair share of problems.

Here’s a guilty confession: I never finished Halo until I replayed it this week. Bungie’s first foray into the world of Xbox is often criticised, among other things, for excessive machismo, and there’s a common (though unfair) belief that the sole reason for its success was the marketing. But it was another popular objection – the game’s repetitive copy-and-paste level design, notoriously culminating in the infamous Library level in the game’s middle sections – which caused me to stop playing.

While I would usually complain that most videogames sacrifice narrative for the sake of gameplay, Halo is the opposite. Bungie’s aesthetics are meticulously designed, and the game’s middle third, set in ancient Forerunner architecture, is steeped in atmosphere. These corridors feel repetitive, desolate and alien because that’s exactly what they’re supposed to be. Jutting, angular design plays an important part in the Forerunner’s vacant structures, which is a splendid way of combining artistic license with technical limitations, and the excessive repetition of their cyclical corridors clearly emphasises these epic structures as the towering buildings they so rightly are. The problem is that this doesn’t make for an engrossing game. Following a constant series of glowing directions across endlessly duplicated floors grinds away at your patience, no matter how effective Bungie’s art team have been at fashioning these grand, lonely fortresses.

Move past the Library and you reach the Halo’s closing chapters, fighting against both Covenant and Flood to make your way back to your ship, the Pillar of Autumn. Again, strong narrative footing takes precedence over gameplay. Essentially, you’re simply performing the rather humdrum task of backtracking over levels you’ve already experienced, with very little in the sense of gameplay momentum. But as a narrative, this stage of Halo is a thrilling – if conventional – adventure, one that apes Hollywood traditions to lead into its bombastic finale. Planets are exploding, swarms of hostile aliens are closing in and Master Chief is the last, best hope of a threatened humanity.

Master Chief himself is the modern first-person shooter’s quintessential super soldier. His towering physique and shiny visor have been frequently copied, but never bettered. Unlike when Bungie attempts to mix narrative and level design, Master Chief’s plot combines seamlessly with the gameplay. Waking up from cryogenic statis at the start of the game, he’s treated as humanity’s most precious and terrifying weapon. The emphasis on grenades, scavenging and brutal melee attacks is empowering for the player, and the realisation that Covenant forces are better armed, have their own recharging shields, and have just destroyed almost every other SPARTAN-II in existence helps effectively highlight the plight of humanity. It’s a structurally simple plot, but Bungie tells it with aplomb.

As the combat evolves further in subsequent games, the recurrent battles become more engaging and dynamic. A handful of UNSC troopers becomes a dozen soldiers at your side, and a cluster of Covenant forces becomes a small fleet of enemies to be shot down. In Halo, a trio of elites and an enemy banshee are a near-impossible force to be reckoned with. Even with the lower bodycount, Halo is effective at making you feel you’re fighting an entire alien army. Few other games can claim to perform such a feat.

The game’s finale is the culmination of all Bungie’s cinematic inspirations. Drawing from the classic videogame sequence of a timed escape, you race a Warthog through the exploding Pillar of Autumn to escape Halo’s imminent destruction in the nick of time. It’s a grand ending: suitably thrilling, and providing a solid, effective conclusion to the storyline. Halo is destroyed and, until the sequel, humanity remains safe.

Halo is a bold game, and one that works best when considered for its broad, sweeping narrative strokes rather than its fussy and repetitive gameplay minutiae. I’m glad I finally finished it, but I doubt I’ll ever want play it again.