This is gonna suck.
No, but seriously --
this has nothing to do with Call of Duty. (Doubly so because I have no intention of
playing online multiplayer of my own volition.)
No, this is about the story. Is
it a little foolish of me to expect some glowing revelation from a tale that I
imagine I’ll have mostly forgotten in a month? Probably. Is it foolish of me to expect something
substantial from a game that’ll become legend by dint of its player-to-player
interactions in the rogue-laden wastelands of Xbox Live? Probably.
But damn it, Microsoft and 343 Studios put in effort, and that effort
deserves to be judged accordingly.
And you know what? A part of me feels like I’m in a good
position to give my thoughts on the story.
I don’t think there’s anyone more neutral about the Halo games than I am -- I don’t hate them, but I don’t love
them. I see the merits, but I see the
faults. I’ve cracked jokes at its
expense, but I’ve defended it a couple of times in the past; as I’ve said
elsewhere, the Halo universe is
actually pretty fascinating. Even a
cursory glance at the novels reveals a canon bustling with activity, character,
and depth. I’m serious. If nothing else, go pick up the Eric Nylund
books -- they’re more than just tolerable, they’re compelling…up to a
point. And I’m pretty sure you can guess
what that point is.
But first…wheat lands,
swathe me with your divine protection!
Barrier!
The problem with Halo -- with Halo 4, and the canon as a whole -- is, always has been, and likely
always will be Master Chief. For the
life of me I cannot understand why anyone thinks he’s a cool character, or a
badass, or a hero, or anything of the sort.
I would have gladly finished
the Nylund books if not for the presence of Master Chief; the best parts of the
book are when he’s not around, or at the very least isn’t the Chief we know and
“love”. In the interest of not repeating
myself, I’m going to hold off on my rationale for why I don’t like Master Chief -- because you see, I get the feeling
that the issues I had with him back in 2007 are the same issues I have
now. That said, I want to say upfront
that in spite of the complaints I’m about to make, Halo 4’s campaign DOES do some things very well, in my
opinion. Surprisingly well. But will those things be enough to balance
out the rest? Only one way to find out.
So once again, let’s
take this step by step. Gameplay, story,
let’s hit allllllllllll the high notes.
Well, relatively speaking.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the Nevan on me right now; thought I’d take
on Beowulf with Agni and Rudra just for kicks.
Oh, and SPOILERS. BIG FAT JUICY SPOILERS. But then
again, that shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone who’s familiar with my work. (They’re delicious, is what I’m getting at
here.)
1) Halo 4 is a beautiful game.
I mentioned this when I
talked about Cloud Atlas, but I could
care less about fancy graphics. My
favorite gaming system is the DS, and it’s been getting its ass kicked in the
graphics department almost since its inception (though to be fair, it kicked
the PSP’s ass in terms of quality titles, sales, and general worth). I recognize that for a visual medium, you
need to look good, and I appreciate the amount of work that goes into doing
that -- especially in the HD era. But throw some billion-dollar visuals at me,
and I guarantee you they’ll bounce off my head like a badly-thrown Frisbee.
But enough of
that. My brother says that Microsoft
gave 343 Industries a blank check to make the best Halo game that they could.
And it shows. The cutscenes are
pretty much movie-quality (maybe beyond), the character models are better than
they’ve ever been, the facial expressions are high-quality, and at several
points both my brother walked off a cliff because he was busy admiring the
horizons. It’s no accident that every
time someone -- reviewers, forum posters, etc. -- bring up the game, they’re
all itching to bring up how beautiful the game looks.

Maybe if you play the
game, you’ll get more out of the graphics than I did. As for me…well, it hasn’t even been a week,
and I’m already starting to forget some of the areas I visited.
2) It may be 2013, but it’s still Halo
at its core.
I’m a fan of Zero Punctuation. While Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw may have an
overwhelmingly-negative spin on most games, he frequently raises some good
points in his videos (and lately our opinions seem to be lining up, so either
I’ve gotten more discerning or he’s a really bad influence). It’s always been a shame that his reviews of
games come up to two weeks after their release -- what with being in Australia,
and his own timetables -- but every time his video pops up, he cuts down the
top-scoring games in ways nearly every other reviewer can’t. I’m practically counting the hours until his Halo 4 review comes out.

It’s not a broken
formula in the slightest. You run, you
gun, and you occasionally introduce aliens (many of which I’m wholly convinced
are mistreated orphans) to the business end of your forearm. You hide behind something if you’ve taken a
beating until your health/shield recharges.
You clear one firefight and move on to the next area, and maybe get a
cutscene. Do it again and again and
again as needed.
I think the allure
behind Halo -- and to some extent
other shooters -- is the wave of relief that splashes over you when you survive
a firefight. You’re one step closer to
clearing the game, and more importantly you’ve managed to take a stand against hordes
of hostile enemies and orphans. And of
course, even in the midst of a firefight there are those moment-to-moment
successes -- maybe taking out an alien with a well-placed shot, or blowing up a
handful of them with one grenade toss.
It’s the kind of gameplay that you can just sit down and get into
without any planning, strategizing, or busywork -- and it’s full of moments
where you can brag about your no-scoping to your friends.
Also, there are mechs
in this game, so it’s kind of hard to fault it for that.
3) Unfortunately, it’s still Halo
at its core.
I’m not very good at
shooters. I tend to overturn while
aiming, I always forget to aim for the head (and as I recall you shouldn’t aim
for the head in real life anyway), and when I’m under fire it takes me an extra
five seconds to even think about facing whoever’s shooting at me. To say nothing of the fact that my fondest
memories of shooters include getting shot in the back and staring at the
respawn screen.
That said, on its
standard difficulty Halo 4 is kind of
easy. And my memory’s hazy, but I feel like
the other Halo games I’ve played -- 3 and Reach -- weren’t exactly taxing either. I assume that there is SOME strategy to
surviving each firefight, but all I really need are the basics -- shoot at
enemies until they’re dead, and take cover when you need to. I mean, there are different enemies in the
game, but the strategy is almost exactly the same; there are guys that try to
rush you and slash you, but outside of the occasional heavy attack they’re not
that much of a threat. And there are
flying ring things, but you can shoot them down easily. And there are guys that resurrect other guys,
but I have a hunch you’re more likely to see Halley’s Comet than one of
them…and even then, you just shoot them before they can revive their pals. And you can equip power-ups you find in the
field, but honestly? I don’t think there
was ever a time when I thought “Whew! I
sure am glad I had that energy shield!
Thank you, o wise and noble developer gods!”
And there are new
weapons, too, but, again, they don’t have quite the impact or game-changing
qualities I expected. There are glowy,
Lego-constructed Promethean weapons, but they don’t change much either besides
giving you different sound effects and magazine sizes. There’s a gun with a scope that’s reminiscent
of a Covenant gun with a scope. There’s
a rapid-fire machine gun that’s reminiscent of a UNSC rapid-fire machine
gun. There’s a shotgun and some kind of
rocket launcher and a pistol, but there’s already been a shotgun, some kind of
rocket launcher, and a pistol. In a
world where Ratchet and Clank exists
and you’re likely to have a gun that shoots a three-course dinner with
corrosive cranberry sauce, it’s baffling that this game -- this 2012 game made with a blank check -- changes so very little. But since I’m assuming that at the time of
this writing it’s earned enough money to buy Europe, I guess it doesn’t really
matter.
By the way, a
conversation that happened the other day:
Friend: “So what’s
different in this game? Like, what makes
it better than Halo Reach?”
Bro: “Well, it’s got
better graphics…and, uh…uh…new guns.”
Friend: “Is that it?”
Bro: “New multiplayer
maps.”
Friend: “Are they all
new?”
Bro: “Not all of
them. Some are, you know, from the old
games.”
Friend: “That’s
lazy! They just copied the old maps and
gave them new graphics!”
Bro: “No, it’s a
throwback. I kinda like it.”
Friend: “So they added
new graphics and new guns and new maps…and that’s it?”
Bro: “Well, there’s a
new story mode, and…new multiplayer modes…and…uh…”
Friend: “So that’s it?”
Bro: “Uh…uh…uh…”
*pushes eject button and rockets through roof*
4) If you’re playing co-op, get ready to be treated like a non-entity.
I’m used to playing in
the 2P slot -- and honestly, it’s a role I’d rather be in. Ignoring the fact that most baddies are
inexplicably attracted to Player 1, it seems like playing as someone besides
the main character is more rewarding and beneficial than playing the lead. Playing as Dom from Gears of War is much more satisfying than playing as Marcus; the
same applies to playing as Guy from Tales
of the Abyss instead of Luke. I’m
not opposed to playing as Master Chief, but I had more fun playing as The
Arbiter in Halo 3.
In Halo 4 (like Reach before
it), Player 2 plays as a clone of Master Chief.
Not a clone in a storyline sense; more like a shadow, or a doppelganger,
or more aptly an imaginary friend. Yeah,
let’s go with imaginary friend; it’s much easier to interpret Player 2 as a
negative extension of Chief’s psyche, a means to escape the crushing loneliness
of both his prestige as a war hero and his isolation over the course of four
years. (It’s a little troubling that
Master Chief would give a potential best friend a mirror image of his armor,
but let’s set the blatant narcissism aside for now.) The important thing is that outside of
combat, Player 2 doesn’t exist…and sometimes, even in combat. Sometimes doors won’t open for you. Quick time events can and often will be done
by Player 1 alone. When P2 walks by
NPCs, they won’t register his presence; only when the original Master Chief
passes by do they give him recognition.
There’s even a point where P1 takes off in an airship, and P2 sits in a
gunner’s seat -- and because that gun is on the side of the ship, it means P2
can’t shoot anything for the entire sequence.
Enemies only appear in the front, and only P1 can dispatch them. Gameplay!
Actually, there is one
good thing about having a second player around: it makes Master Chief’s job
easier. And that job is…
5) Master Chief exists only to press buttons.
I’d just like to make
it clear that I’m not biased against Halo 4 or shooters in general -- I’m
biased against games that rely on stupid-ass decisions. I’m not making anything up here, or hating on
the game just because it exists; I played through it, and what I say here is
mostly just a report of my experience.
And my experience -- my takeaway from this game -- is that Master Chief
is a manual garage door opener at the beck and call of the military.
I’m serious. That’s all you do in this game. That’s
all you do. Oh, sure, you get to
have firefights and pilot mechs and such (except for one instance where only
one mech spawns, so P2 has to follow closely behind and NOT play MechWarrior), but your objective at
least eighty percent of the time is to activate switches and operate
machinery. And it’s often three
switches, or you have to operate three machines, or go here and bust that up,
or go there and relay that message. I’m
sorry, but am I…isn’t Master Chief supposed to be some kind of war hero? Isn’t he a veteran in the field? Isn’t he the only hope for humanity’s
survival? Why does saving the universe
from alien threats so regularly equal going here and pressing that? Is this what super soldiers were made
for? And is it not possible for anyone
to activate these switches remotely?
Hell, even Cortana could probably manage it; plug her into one device,
and with her cyber-magic that makes everything work she could probably access
every terminal on the planet while downloading every music video ever
created.343, if you’re going to sell Master Chief as a one-man-army, don’t make
him do menial tasks that the average grunt could handle. Also, don't let him strap a nuke to his ass.
On second thought? Actually, yeah, let Chief palm all the
consoles in the universe. He doesn’t
even matter, really. Know why?
6) Cortana is the real star of Halo
4.
This is it. This is the reason why Halo 4 works at all.
Cortana is, bar none,
the best part of the campaign. She’s not
just competently handled, but enjoyable and meaningful. This is her story; this isn’t a game meant to
trumpet the triumphant return of Master Chief to the battlefield, but to
highlight just how vital she is, and how much her presence would be missed if
anything happened to her. If at any
point Master Chief didn’t have his inexplicably-naked blue cyber-girlfriend
plugged into his neck (and they say anime is weird…), then there would be no
game. Chief wouldn’t be able to do
anything. He’d just sit there after a
firefight, fingers twitching around a smoking gun as he stared blankly at a
locked door.
There are people who go
gaga at the sight of Master Chief, but even so this is still Cortana’s
story. She’s passed her expiration date,
and is slowly but surely deteriorating. As
she puts it, she’s in danger of thinking herself to death -- an overload of
information and perspectives and emotions she’s kept under the surface by
virtue of internalized norms and cautious judgment. But the cracks start to show, and
regularly. She flies off the handle at
several points, damaging some machinery in the process. She starts badmouthing people as violently as
she can. She gets buggier than Fallout: New Vegas on release day. But most of all, she becomes aware of her
mortality…and with it, her impending death.
And in spite of it, she soldiers on and does what she can to prevent the
Didact from wreaking havoc.
If not for Cortana, I
wouldn’t have cared about Halo 4 at
all. But 343 did a commendable job with
her, and I’m happy to have experienced her story arc. But with that in mind, I want to make an even
bolder claim.
7) Cortana is the real star of the franchise.
If not for Cortana,
Master Chief wouldn’t have succeeded in his Halo
4 mission. But now that I think
about it, I have to wonder: was that the case with all the Halo games? Did Cortana make
impossible situations possible? I’ve
only played 3 and Reach prior to this, and given that Reach (a game notably without Cortana in
person) ended with everybody dying, I wonder if the Spartans are all just
overgrown super-children who need an AI mommy to do all the housekeeping.
I’m guessing that
Cortana has been with Chief since the beginning, so it’s safe to assume that
they not only have a history together, but are the franchise’s most notable
names. But here’s the funny thing: at
several points in Halo 4’s campaign,
I thought to myself: “Why doesn’t Cortana get a spinoff game?” Ignoring the fact that she’s got more
personality -- and likely credibility in world-saving antics -- than everyone’s
favorite gun-toting refrigerator, I can see the possibilities. Her game could be like Rez, where she dives into cyber-worlds to battle enemy programs and
unlock doors -- or maybe it could be like Mega
Man Battle Network, fusing tactical gameplay with the well-worn
gunplay. I want a game from her
perspective, showing her exploits in making victory even remotely possible, and
the emotions therein. I want to see her
relationship with Master Chief from her position. I want to…
Oh second thought, scratch that. I don’t want to learn more about that anytime
soon.
8) Cortana’s biggest failing?
Her “relationship” with Master Chief.
Halo 4 left me with a bitter taste in my mouth, and I think I’m
starting to figure out why. This game is
getting uncomfortably close to aping Twilight
-- and if not Twilight, then
something just as creepy.
Let’s see if I can
raise some red flags for you. Cortana is
an AI whose primary mission in life is to serve Master Chief however and
whenever she can -- and she’ll do so while wearing “clothing” that would have
the average stripper ask her to cover up.
Over the course of her adventures with Chief (throughout the franchise,
but for now let’s focus on Halo 4),
she continues to support him and be the closest thing to a friend and lover
he’ll ever have. She’s effectively
dying, but continues doing all she can for the Chief, up to and including
making it possible for him to beat the Didact.
It’s plainly clear that she loves Master Chief for reasons I can’t even
begin to comprehend; is it because they’ve spent so much time together? Is it because they’ve been through a lot
together? It sure as shit isn’t because
they have an emotional connection; I spend a lot of time wearing my headphones,
and you don’t see me caressing it gently.
But I’d sooner get a confession of love out of them than Cortana would
get even a sign of affection from Master Chief.
And it’s because of
that little fact that their “relationship” is downright unsettling. Cortana is making everything possible for Chief.
Everything. She opens the doors. She sets the waypoints. She makes the communications. She activates the machines. She generates the portals. She prepares the EMPs. She sets up the nuke. She teleports Chief out of the nuclear blast. And throughout all of that, Master Chief
doesn’t even give her a thank you. Not a
good job, not a thanks, not a good idea, nothing. He’s just barking orders at her, from start
to finish. Oh, sure, he’ll reassure her
and tell her that they’ll find a way to reverse her condition, but in the context
of things what does that mean? Cortana
can continue being the perfect little slave, ensuring that Chief can be the
hero and perfect soldier? Or maybe it’s
because little old Master Chief doesn’t wanna give up his most favoritest
widdle toy, and he’ll throw a temper tantrum while trying to keep her all to
himself? All while denying her the
emotional support she needs, now more than ever?
Look, I’ll admit maybe
there’s a deeper layer to this relationship.
Maybe this is a deconstruction of Master Chief, showing just how
mechanical and unsuited for human contact he is underneath a ton’s worth of
armor. That’s a very possible
reading. But it’s just as easy to read
it as one of the most messed-up relationships in the history of gaming. Cortana deserves better. I mean, I know Halo has a reputation for being a male power fantasy, but next
time, could you maybe dial back the horrific implications a bit, 343
Industries? Just a little bit? Please?
9) Master Chief is the same as always…and that’s the one thing 343 couldn’t afford.
This was it. This was their big chance to take Master
Chief in an exciting new direction. 343,
Microsoft, whoever -- even if they were destined to make enough money to build
a stadium the size of Alaska regardless
of whether or not the game was good, this was the time for them to show that
they’d turned the page in Halo’s
book. This was a chance to evolve, and
prove to the detractors that this game -- and this character -- could be more
than just the patron saint of teabagging.
Did they do it? Did they finally put in something worthwhile
-- something to signal a new era for Master Chief, Halo, and one of the pillars of the gaming industry paradigm?
Engineer, you wanna
take this one?
There is nothing here
to grasp about Master Chief -- nothing to boost our opinion of him, and prove
that he’s worthy of the bank-busting sales his games have garnered. Master Chief is still the same blank slate
he’s always been, barring the deconstructive interpretation I mentioned
earlier…and honestly, I’m convinced that even that was an accident. Chief
doesn’t give a shit about anything; every firefight is like a distraction to
him, keeping him from pressing the next button on the horizon. People talk to him, and a part of me wonders
if he’s even listening. No emotion, no
opinions, no character growth -- barring some very slim threads at the very, very end of the game -- no reason to
identify with him, no reason to sympathize for him. Nothing.
If the plan was to make
Chief’s personality and development subtle, 343 overshot it. Making a stoic character isn’t an automatic
death sentence, but in exchange for that lack of reaction, you have to give
something back. Something to latch onto,
whatever it may be. But there
isn’t. Not here. And I’m starting to suspect that’ll always be
the case.
10) If you aren’t fawning over Master Chief, you are wrong, stupid, and
evil.
Almost like clockwork,
you can expect every NPC you pass by to get stiffened trousers at the mere
thought of Master Chief. They’ll follow
Chief’s orders, follow Chief’s plan, and willingly break the rules to give him
the chance he needs. I understand why:
it’s to make the player feel like a hero, obviously, and lend some credibility
to Chief’s legacy of button-pressing.
But they take it way
too far. Ignoring the brown-nosing that
other military folk will do in the presence of the Chief, there’s an official
you meet that takes things to wall-banging levels of stupidity. I think his name is Del Rio, but as I’ve
already started forgetting details about the campaign and can’t be arsed to
check, let’s call him Del Rio for now, if only to reference wrestling superstar
Alberto Del Rio. As a high-ranking
official on the downed ship, the Infinity -- that’ll teach you guys not to give
your vehicles such pretentious names -- it’s his job to ensure the safety of
his crew and not take any unnecessary risks; it’s a point that actually has
some merit, and he actually brings that up to Master Chief early on. Unfortunately, the next time you meet him
he’s turned into a snarling pissant; unwilling to believe Chief’s story that
there’s a new threat in town, he throws a tantrum and starts mouthing off to
the Spartan…you know, the war hero. And
he says that Chief didn’t see anything…in spite of, you know, the exact
opposite happening and Del Rio lacking any proof. And Master Chief being there and having a
witness in Cortana. And the fact that
Chief has no reason to lie (is he even capable of lying?). But that doesn’t stop Del Rio’s hissy fit, demolishing his credibility so Chief can
look better. The safety of his
crew? Pshaaaaaaaaaaaaw! Just do what Chief says, and everything will
work out fine!
Did I mention that a
sizable section of Earth gets blasted by a laser?
11) They might as well rename him Messiah Chief.
It’s not even ten
minutes into the campaign before the game reminds you that Master Chief is
pretty much the new Jesus Christ. It’s
said in no uncertain terms that Master Chief is “the only hope”, and that those
like him are “mankind’s next evolutionary step.” Over the course of the campaign, Chief meets
some phantoms from the past, declaring that he’s the lynchpin for saving the
world from destruction, and that he has to become more powerful. Sooooo…apparently, having
reflexes that border on precognition and enough strength to punch through
concrete weren’t enough?
All right, Halo 4 -- I’ll bite. What makes Master Chief that much better than anyone else?
Because he’s a Spartan? You mean
one of dozens of super-soldiers that you tried to mass produce in a process
with such a high failure rate that it’s nigh-useless? You mean the last of his kind, and since then
has come in contact with at least one other Spartan soldier who’s likely as
advanced, if not more so? Even if he is
a super-soldier, he is only ONE super-soldier.
If anything happens to him on the way to his objective -- like a
sufficiently-powerful bomb blast, or dropping him off a cliff, or warping him
to another planet -- then what happens next?
What makes him any better than the average soldier, or better yet droves
of soldiers? Just because he can take a
beating and has recovering health? No,
that can’t be it; I played the game, and it was by way of Cortana’s actions
that Chief even managed to get through the front door. Does he fire guns harder than any other
soldier? Outside of grabbing Promethean
or Covenant weaponry, he doesn’t have any unique guns. So why is this guy so special? Why is he “the next step in evolution” when
he’s pretty much a fluke? Is the next
step supposed to be a race of seven-foot tall, socially-inept soldiers
brainwashed for the battlefield? Is
Master Chief supposed to be the messiah because he’s the best there is at what
he does, or because he’s got some secret written into his DNA? Are we just supposed to forget that every
other character in the Halo universe
makes it even remotely possible for Master Chief to get within a state’s
distance of his objective?
See? See that?
This is what happens when you try to make a savior out of your lead
character. If you don’t have solid
answers, you’re gonna get the shit nitpicked out of you.
12) The Didact sets himself up to be a real threat…
You know what? For all my talk and love of heroes and heroic
characters, I’ll gladly admit that it’s a good villain that shapes a story as
much as -- maybe more than -- a hero. Not
having read anything about Halo 4 prior
to release (at least not in detail), when the campaign fired up my question
was, “Okay, who’s the big baddie this time around?” And the answer came in the form of the
Didact.
In case you were
wondering -- I sure was at the start of the game -- “Didact” is the noun form
of “didactic”, meaning “designed or intended to teach.” It’s a fitting name for such an imposing
villain; the Didact is bigger than Master Chief, capable of disintegrating his
cover with a wave of his hand, has a commanding knowledge of ancient
technology, and has telekinesis that lets him fling Chief around like a used
dishrag. He’s a man with a plan, and
while he’s more than a little talkative, he’s certainly harrowing. He can do some serious damage if left to his
devices. And you know what? I find it very interesting that he wears
armor reminiscent of Chief’s, albeit far more sinister. It drives the point home in a good way; he’s
the villain that’ll push our favorite Spartan to his very limits, demanding
every last shred of strength, skill, willpower, and thirst for justice that
Master Chief can muster.
13) …And then this happens.
Watch this video. Drop everything and watch this video.
Heh. Heh heh.
Heh heh heh. Hey, that’s
funny. Really funny. You know what? It’s very reminiscent of other games. Remember in Chrono Trigger when you beat Lavos by playing Simon Says? Or Super
Mario 64, when beating Bowser came down to doing a tongue twister? Or The
Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker when you triumphed over Ganondorf thanks to a
fast-paced game of Tic-Tac-Toe? Eh? What’s that?
That never happened? You remember
epic, memorable fights that pushed you to your limits against incredibly
powerful foes, testing you and standing between you and the happy ending you so
desperately wanted?
Hmm. Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right. I do remember those fights now. I’m sorry, I guess my memory was just a bit
hazy on account of HOW INCREDIBLY
FUCKING STUPID IT IS TO END YOUR GAME ON A QUICK TIME EVENT!
What in the hell were
they thinking? It’s 2012, you’re being
funded by one of the biggest companies on the planet, you build up this villain
to be the baddest motherfucker in the galaxy, and you end with a quick time
event that doesn’t even last for a minute?
You beat this big bruiser of a boss by sticking a grenade to his chest
and letting him stumble into a portal?
Why? WHY? You don’t even get to shoot at him -- Cortana
does all the work for Chief, AGAIN, and watch him lose in a cutscene! A cutscene! Did 343 just give up at that point? Did they just phone it in to meet a
deadline? Did they run out of
ideas? Did they panic because Chief would
have had to fight in an arena without walls to hide behind? WHAT?!
This is stupid! Complete, utter, pants-on-head, dunce-hat-crowned, railroad-spike-in-brain BULL.
FUCKING. SHIT. This is unacceptable -- NOBODY is allowed to
give this moment a pass. I want to see
people posting this at the top of their “Worst Moments of 2012” lists. I want to see reviewers revising their scores
and knocking the grade down just because of this. I want people to get pissed off, because they
deserve to be pissed off. I want every
single member of 343 Industries’ staff to go on the air, get on their hands and
knees, and give a sincere apology, and then start slapping each other as hard
as they can.
I don’t care if the
Didact survived and you’ll fight him in Halo
5 -- I wanted to fight him in Halo 4,
even if -- no, ESPECIALLY if it was a hopeless fight. It could have been a wake-up call for Master
Chief, a moment for him to realize his weakness and mortality, and inability to
complete the mission. This was their
chance to show that, yes, Master Chief really IS the only one that can save
humanity. But they didn’t. They just wanted to
turn their game into a movie -- and all it cost was shooting their game’s
finale in the goddamn eye.
Deep breath…deep
breath…deep breath…okay. Okay. I think I’m calm now.
14) The Didact could have been a better villain if not for his
mishandling.
You know what? NO.
I’m NOT calm now!
We don’t get to see the
Didact do shit in this game. Oh yeah,
sure, we get to hear about what he did in the past, and we know he’s up to no
good, but in the grand scheme of things what does he do? Fly around in his Death Egg? Vaporize some NPCs? Trash-talk with Master Chief? That last point is especially aggravating,
because it highlights the same problem with Handsome Jack of Borderlands 2 -- we don’t get to see the
villain being a villain, but apparently he can talk to us whenever he wants to,
taunt us, and tell us it’s all pointless.
The problem with that (and with Borderlands
2 by extension) is that in order for that to work, the player character has
to engage right back. They don’t. They don’t even try to tell him off, or block
communications. It’s just a way to fill
dead air -- and that just ends up being as welcome as a pre-diarrhea fart.
Also, riddle me
this. If the Didact is aware of Master
Chief’s presence and actions at any given moment, why the hell does he let him
get within a mile of the Death Egg? Why
doesn’t he kill him in their first (of pretty much two) encounters if he’s
clearly more than a match for him? Why
is the antagonist so far-removed from all but ten percent of the game?
…I wish it was the
Wednesday after next so that I could watch Yahtzee eviscerate this game.
15) How is it that I played through 100% of the campaign, yet have only
a hazy idea of who these people are?
Okay. Now I’m calm.
Sorry about that little…outburst there.
It’s just that the more I think about this game, the more it starts to
piss me off. How can such a short
campaign -- beatable in two sittings, maybe one -- be so wrong?

I was willing to let it
ride, but a glance at the wiki suggests that you aren’t ready to play Halo 4 just because you’ve played all
the games in the series. Who are the
Prometheans? Who are the
Forerunners? Who is Dr. Halsey? Who is the Didact? What’s the Forward Unto Dawn? What’s the Infinity? If you want answers, you’ll kinda-sorta get
an idea of whom or what they are in the game’s context. But if you want to know every aspect of these
elements, get ready to shell out some serious dough; you’ll have to get your
hands on the games (the updated rereleases, preferably -- and you’ll have to
look for transmissions in-game), the novels, and the accompanying anime. I’m serious; apparently the Didact’s first appearance was in the Halo anime.
I’m going to take the
high road and not suggest that all this EU-material shows just how little the
creators understand its target audience…but it’s really, really hard.
16) React! React! REACT!
I hinted at this
earlier, but I want to make it clear: Master Chief’s biggest failing is that he
doesn’t react to anything. There’s
stoicism, there’s focus, there’s dedication to the mission, and there’s
flat-out not having a character. Guess
which one Master Chief has down pat?
I know I’ve done my
joking and raging at this game, but I’ll readily admit that stuff happens. Important stuff. Stuff that could transform the canon forever. Yes, stuff beyond Cortana falling apart. The problem is that all those events aren’t
given the gravitas and impact they deserve because we’re seeing everything
through the lens of someone who couldn’t even give a damn -- and if he doesn’t,
why should we? Chief heads to a research
facility and tells all the scientists there to clear out, abandoning the data
and mines and years of effort. A normal
character (and to a lesser extent better pacing) would have explored the mines
in full and registered the sacrifices that they made as well as the sacrifices he’d be asking the researchers to make
for the sake of the world. But not
Chief. In another instance at the end of
the game, Lasky -- a member of the Infinity’s
crew who helped Chief leave without permission -- is trying to consul the big
guy about the loss of Cortana…but he shows more emotion than Chief does. Much more.
Chief barely even moves through the whole sequence, or recognizes Lasky’s
presence. And there’s still the matter
of people (and states) getting vaporized.
Does Chief ever address that?
Does he even register the collateral damage that’s occurred in his quest
to complete the mission? No and no --
and it’s because of that lack of reaction that there will always, always be a disconnection between the
player, the character, and the game...and as such, the developers shoot themselves in the other eye.
I don’t buy that I’m
supposed to be Master Chief. Not just
because I don’t want to be; it’s because he’s his own “character”. I can’t project myself onto someone who has
his own role -- and even if he didn’t, his utterly irreversible status as a
blank slate is a detriment to his character.
I can’t role-play as him, because his choices aren’t my own. I can’t identify with him, because his
relationship to everything and everyone around him is virtually
nonexistent. He contributes nothing to
the story in terms of ideas or presence, and sometimes even his importance is arguable;
he exists as little more than a puppet to send into the fray to shoot alien
orphans and press switches nobody else feels like running to. What exactly makes him badass? Badassery -- no, courage isn’t defined by the
absence of fear, but being able to act in spite of it. It is not -- I repeat, is NOT -- defined by
how many aliens you kill, or how cool you look when you jump onto the surface
of a planet, or being able to take as much punishment as an armored tortoise.
Master Chief is not a
badass. He’s not even a character. He’s equal parts Edward Cullen and Bella Swan
-- a beautiful but deadly god that everyone’s supposed to go starry-eyed over,
with the added bonus of being our bland and downright heinous viewpoint
character for the sole purpose of vicarious living. His only saving grace is that he has yet to
administer any energy sword c-sections…though they could just be saving that
for Halo 6.
17) Snarky one-liners =/= humor.
There are three things
you can count on Master Chief saying consistently throughout the game. One: Mission objectives. Two: Giving Cortana (and others, but mostly
Cortana) orders. Three: One-liners that
would make Jean-Claude Van Damme snicker. And he was in this:
Really? I mean…really? One-liners?
Master Chief will break out the one-liners, but he can’t be bothered to
say anything meaningful to Cortana? You
can’t come up with anything even remotely funny? You had to do exactly what Gears of War did, and fail just as
badly? Is this how Master Chief
expresses himself? Is this how everyone
in an “epic” expresses themselves? Is
this your idea of injecting levity into a game, 343 Industries -- and you as
well, Bungie? You know, besides the
general incompetence of your campaigns that make players laugh for all the wrong
reasons?
Fun fact: every time
Master Chief spouted a bad one-liner, I bobbed my head back and forth and went “Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh”
in the fakest tone I could muster.
Thankfully Chief cuts the tomfoolery a ways into the game (to be
replaced with nothing), because otherwise my neck would be in a cast.
18) Once again, I care more about the side characters than the main character.
This is such a
travesty. Would someone care to explain
to me why I don’t get to learn more about these people -- in the games, not in expanded universe content that I have to travel
across the country for -- when they so obviously have more interesting stories
to tell than Master Chief?
I want to know more
about Sarah Palmer, another Spartan who’s apparently just sitting around the
base. She probably did more, but she
tucked so far into a side pocket that she might as well have not been
there. I want to know more about Thomas Lasky without having to sit through a miniseries; I want to see what life is
like on a ship, especially through the eyes of a human rather than an unfeeling
killing machine. I want to learn more
about the research being done on that planet, and how it’s affected the lives
of countless researchers. Why build up
this sprawling universe based on a video game franchise, and then exclude all
the savory bits in the video games proper -- a product in which any one of its
releases can garner $220 million in sales on
day one? Why punish anyone who hasn’t
grabbed every last bit of Halo
memorabilia, and build an impassable wall for casual observers of the
franchise?
Whatever. I barely know who these people are, and yet I
feel more of a connection with them than I ever could for the supposed
hero. And I think I know why.
19) Faces go a long way toward proving your story’s case.
I’m of the opinion that
FPSes in general don’t lend themselves to making players resonate with a
character (though that’s a broad statement, and I know there are
counter-examples out there), but Master Chief may have codified it. I’m having a hell of a time remembering
anything substantial the Spartan said during Halo 3 outside of a few one-liners.
True, actions speak louder than words, but that doesn’t mean words are
useless. Even at their worst, silent
protagonists like Link or several Shin
Megami Tensei leads manage to create a character (Skyward Sword had Link’s personality conveyed through his
expressions and reactions and a few dialogue choices; meanwhile, even games as
low-budget as Devil Survivor had
branching dialogue, and a few still sprites of the hero’s face). I think we can at least agree that a
character, regardless of medium, needs to leave an impact on us. So why has Master Chief done nothing of the
sort for me? Come to think of it,
doesn’t “Master Chief” sound bland at best and ridiculous at worst? And with his real name being John (as far as
I know), does that really help things?
Was his last name Generic at one point?
It seems like there’s a
pretty big divide, now that I think about it.
For argument’s sake, let’s have a look at Link through the years.
Now let’s have a look
at Master Chief through the years.
There’s no denying that
one of them has seen a lot more different art styles -- certainly because he’s
spent a lot more time kicking around.
But there’s one advantage Link has that Chief has yet to tap: his
face.
You never really
realize how much you miss a face until it’s not there anymore. But supposedly, people are hardwired to recognize
and find faces. It’s why we say there’s
a man on the moon. It’s why as babies,
one of the first things we learn to recognize is a face. It’s why there are disorders devoted to
lacking an ability to recognize faces. They’re important. They show emotion. Thoughts, opinions, approval and
disapproval. Now consider that part of
the reason for The Wind Waker’s art
style was to put an emphasis on Link’s expressions. Given that, consider that even in Halo: Reach, seeing one of Noble Team’s
faces meant they were about five minutes away from death. Do you see why I might have a problem with
Master Chief?
Even in Halo 4 -- ESPECIALLY in Halo 4 -- the gap between Chief and the
other characters has widened. I feel for
Cortana in ways that I never thought I could for someone in this universe. I sympathize; I feel her plight; I
internalize her struggles, and wish her the best -- and when she doesn’t get
her happy ending, it actually makes me feel like I’ve lost something
important. Know why? Because she’s been conveying information to
me the whole time, up to and including the use of facial expressions. I don’t need her to tell me she’s feeling
sad, because I see it. I don’t need to
have her explain her rage, because she shows it. Hell, even if she didn’t use her facial
expressions, her body language speaks more than loud enough. She feels fleshed out, expressive, emotive,
substantial, intriguing, and outright human.
Chief doesn’t have
that. At all. No body language. No facial expressions. Barely even a face, outside a few teases here
and there. The big guy has been kicking
around in gaming for, what, a decade?
Even if he were to start walking around without a helmet (and you know
he’s not), the damage has been done. It’s
too late for Master Chief.
20) The more things change…
You know, I had a
feeling this would happen.
No, I didn’t think I’d
hate Halo 4 before it even came
out. This isn’t about predictions on the
quality of the game. Remember, I was
willing to give it a fair shake, just like I did with Final Fantasy 13, and Resident
Evil 6. And I played through the
game. And then I sat down and started
writing this post.
I knew this would happen
if I wrote this post. I was going to end
this by saying “Yeah, Halo 4 has its
weaknesses…but I can’t bring myself to hate it because it does at least one
thing pretty well.” But I can’t say that
anymore. I can’t excuse a game for its
repeated failures and inability to evolve, just because it did one thing
right. It’s net worth -- you have to add
up all the positives and negatives, and score it according to the final output.
And so it’s come to
this.
I hate Halo 4. And I’m starting to
hate the Halo universe. It has the potential to be this living,
breathing, fantastic world -- but as long as it’s tied down to one of the most
abysmal characters I’ve ever encountered, it will never, ever be the story I
envision. As long as it keeps pining to
be this epic struggle with a scope as wide as a continent, it will never, ever
give me what I want. It will never be
anything more than a string of firefights and cutscenes, because it never has to
be anything else. Anything more. Master Chief will still be a gaming
icon. The games will keep on selling
thanks to regular releases and the chance to shoot other players in the
back. The campaigns will be little more
than diversions -- displays of fancy graphics and set pieces and decorations to
show off the power of the almighty dollar.
But you know what? I don’t blame Microsoft, or Bungie, or 343
Industries. Not entirely, at least.
Master Chief is a character -- an enemy -- of our own creation,
developers and reviewers and journalists and gamers. He is the amalgamation of the gaming industry’s
consciousness; he is what we want him to be, or what we envision him
being. He is a legend undeserving of his
legendary status. He is a character that
can’t be changed, cannot change, and will not change. And even if he did, the fact that it’s taken
a decade -- more, considering that we won’t see the full effects of Cortana’s death
until Halo 5, at the earliest -- to
even begin gaining insight to this character in his home medium only goes to
show just how hollow he really is. He
may have a face and a body and flesh and blood under that armor, but as of this
moment, I can’t bring myself to care.
Not again. Never again.
Playing Halo 4 made me bored repeatedly, and
angry occasionally. But you know
what? Right now, I’m just…sad. Sad, and tired, and disappointed. Master Chief is back -- but where he goes
next, I dare not follow.
I guess my journey ends
here.