How Halo 3 Ended a Trilogy

I liked Halo--the first one. It was a game about space, discovery, science-fiction. It was about saving the human race, killing aliens, exploring a mysterious new world, escaping alive in one piece--discovering something unique, leaving it behind and having changed something along the way.

It was a story about the hero's journey. We are Master Chief, in the human fleet, minding our business, trying to do the best we can to keep Earth a secret from these nasty Covenant aliens. But they attack our ship, we get thrown off course, and crash on a mysterious alien world which turns out to be an artificially constructed ring (a Halo, get it?). We grab our assault rifles, join forces with our comrades, rescue our captain, explore this ring, discover that it goes deep for (hundreds of?) miles, and try to find a way to escape. Eventually this means we blow it up, and in a thrilling final sequence we barely escape as the last soldier or alien alive.

But six years later in 2007, Halo 3 seems to have forgotten what made it so great in the first place. Halo 3 isn't about a journey, the battle for people we care about, or even survival against an unstoppable foe. Instead it's about repetitive action and bad space drama, barely excused by a setup of invasions, war, explosions, and ancient alien technology. It's a game that's lost a sense of self, what it's trying to achieve or convey to players. It's a game that tries to be too many things, and in the end, isn't left with much anything at all.

It first started in Halo 2, when it tried to portray both sides of this intergalactic war and have us empathize with our enemies. The game had us control a new protagonist, the Arbiter, who previously killed humans but then decided to rebel and stop the other Covenant aliens. Then the true villains turn out not to be the covenant, but a council of evil snail-like aliens, which is spearheaded by an even more evil snail-like alien who wants to activate an ancient alien technology in a remote part of the galaxy that will inevitably kill all humankind and probably the universe.

Alarm signals started to go up when we were watching long cut-scenes about aliens incapable of human vocal tracts speaking in English and debating space drama unrelated to what we thought was a story about Master Chief. This is raised another step in Halo 3 when the Flood, the zombie-like creatures in the game, proceed to join forces with us, speaking to us through animated tree-branch-like appendixes hanging out of their deformed mouths. This is the equivalent of the zombies and headcrabs in Half-Life 2 deciding to ally with Gordon Freeman and doing so by speaking to him with sensible English dialog. In Halo 3, the dynamic relationship between the Flood, the Covenant, and Master Chief constantly shifts until all understanding and sympathy is lost in the process.

The gameplay in Halo 3 consists of romps through different locale throughout Earth and beyond, but the setting is barely made important other than the fact that we are always chasing someone or something related to the end of the universe. Contrast this to the goals in Halo 1, which are progressive as we discover with our friends, the other human soldiers, where we are, and what we are trying to achieve. First there is the discovery of the Halo, the map room, and then the control room, each adding deeper layers to the story and our overall goals. Halo 3's goals consist more of locations--the game wants you to be here, and then there, which is briefly explained in a voice-over and pitched with a few key terms, such as "Ark," "Covenant," or "High Runner," meant to alleviate the fact that there is no progressive reason for you to be at these locations other than for convenient action sequences.

Interrupted by these segments of action in Halo 3 are meaningless monologues by Cortana, whom we have since been separated from in Halo 2, who spouts bits of information without any real purpose. These aren't like the audio logs in BioShock or the propaganda in Half-Life 2, which enrich the world and enlarge our sense of immersion by detailing important backstory and enhancing characterization. Halo 3's monologues consist of phrases such as "I am your light, your savior. I knew you," or "The way it ends is foreseen. You know this to be true." These segments are more like bad poetry than any pertinent story development. Furthermore, these segments actually slow down time in the game to a crawl and steal control away from the player, getting us further annoyed by hampering our progress in between actual gameplay.

There were one or two moments in Halo 3 where I felt that sense of meaning in the original Halo. It was when I jumped into an Orca (the flying helicopter thing, like the one in Avatar), and two other human soldiers jumped on the side of the wings, and we proceeded to do something related to one thing or another. But the point is we were part of a larger battle. The game wasn't about me killing endless enemies with a large assortment of weapons. The game at that moment was about achieving a series of goals with your human comrades, as part of a larger battle against a horrible foe.

As a whole, Halo 3 lost this sense of meaning for me. It appeared to be a game constructed for the sake of itself--for action, closure, and the fulfillment of the marketing of a popular sequel. Halo 1 was about something, even to the smallest degree: discovery, survival, camaraderie. Halo 3 wasn't about this; rather, it was about the immediate, the superficial--action for the sake of action, an ending for the sake of an ending--a game that existed just to exist.

Halo 2

Halo (2001)--the first one--was a game that was innovative, new, atmospheric, and challenging. It revolutionized several video game concepts including, but not limited to: a maximum of two weapons (swappable with any others on the battlefield), a shield system that allowed the player to jump back into the battle without having to worry about health, multiple vehicle systems with good handling, smart(er) AI teammates, an epic science-fiction story, and more. It was genuinely fun, well-told and paced, and only had several nitpicks that detracted from it, the most primary due to the repetitious level design.

And now we come to Halo 2 (2004), a game that picks up right where Halo left off, for better or worse. As a whole, Halo 2 seems to suffer from a lack of focus, vision, and consistency.

The story, which is split up between Master Chief's defense of Earth and the Arbiter's chance for redemption, seems to suffer in its execution in several parts. On Master Chief's side, we are given the story of the invasion of Earth, but never a glimpse of its full scope. As an idea, the invasion of Earth has been repeated many times in the past, and is by now almost a cliche. This is why other stories choose to focus not on the invasion itself, but on other aspects such as the aftermath of its effects. Other stories such as Half-Life 2, or Ender's Game, are set in the aftermath of an alien invasion, one successful, the other not so. The consequences of these invasions are much more interesting than the battles themselves, something which Halo 2 does not capitalize on. I understand that the invasion of Earth provided the much needed action for the story, but it feels as if it could have been given a unique or better twist to it other than "The aliens are coming, let's defend!"

On Arbiter's side of the story, he is not without his own flaws. Firstly, a dramatic soap opera story about betrayal constituting aliens speaking a human tongue (without lips or a human vocal tract, mind you) is somewhat hard to take seriously. This story eventually pits you up against YOURSELF (the humans) in the other story, so it would no longer make sense to start debasing your progress on each side. Thus, the entire plot twist of "Arbiter turns good!" is totally negated by the fact that it was absolutely necessary, and thus predictable, for it to happen.

Taken as a whole, the composite story is unfortunately a rehash of all the events in the first game, except told in a more inconsistent manner. Each side eventually comes upon another Halo ring,searches for the key to use it, and then something blows up in the end. What's worse about this retelling than the first one is its inconsistency. It goes from being a comedy (Master chief holding a rocket which has a picture telling him to "Hold it this way!"), to a serious story (Arbiter getting betrayed by his fellow alien), to downright odd (A giant underground flower-alien thing picks up Master-Chief and Arbiter and has a conversation with them). The story is told from multiple perspectives, angles, and styles, and the atmosphere is totally all over the place (At one point there are aliens dancing in front of the camera for no apparent reason as you crash land on a planet). Because of this, it is no longer a story about the survival of the human race, and it is instead reduced to some kind of bad Hollywood action movie.


Halo 2 continues in the vein of its predecessor in the gameplay department, but also suffers from some awkward gameplay decisions. First off, many times in the levels there is a lack of direction or goal as to where to go. Oftentimes the true exit is comprised of a single green (as opposed to red) door out of many in a giant arena. What makes matters worse is that these arenas often repeat themselves, and the exit often jumps around from door to door, making it a nuisance to find out where to go next. Even when the exit to the level is made clear, it is not made apparent whether or not you actually have to kill anyone to proceed. Due to Arbiter's cloaking device, as well as a low gravity jumping system, large sections of the game can be sped through by simply avoiding to engage in battle with the enemy. This is subsequently countered and made confusing by the few sections in the game where you actually have to kill all the enemies--for what reason I do not know--in order for a gameplay flag to check itself off so in order that you may proceed to the next level.

A second matter that is annoying is the overabundance of pitfalls and open-air platforms that you are forced to traverse. Oftentimes you are presented with a sweeping vista that you believe you can jump down to, but instead you fall to your death when you were heading to your apparent goal. Or, you are trapped indoors to search for the only way out (a green door, perhaps), and believe that maybe you are supposed to jump down this chute or into this pool of water below in order to proceed, which in the end turns out to be the wrong decision. Most times, there are literally NO reason for these pits of death to exist at all, other than to provide another way to die when jumping around dodging enemies. Even worse, large sections of the game use glass floors without any texture whatsoever, leaving you confused as your teammates walk across large open pits which are in reality glass floors.

The final gameplay matter which could be improved upon was one of the core selling points of the game: dual-wielding weapons. Yes, you can now wield up to two small firearms at a time. However, this oftentimes is counter-productive since you can no longer throw grenades or melee enemies while keeping your two weapons. This is somewhat ironic since the main opportunity to use dual weapons is within large groups of enemies, which requires the only action you can no longer perform--throwing a grenade. Even though there had to be a drawback to dual weapons, the lack of grenades and melee (while keeping your two weapons) makes it feel like dual weapons does not provide much of an advantage in the same battle scenarios as wielding a single weapon.

Taken as a whole, is the game fun? Yes. Is it also mindless, repetitive, a rehash, and unimaginative for being a sequel? Yes, it is also those things, as well. Given that Halo 2 came out in the same year (2004) as other great shooters such as Half-Life 2, it is easy to contrast how two different sagas produce their own sequels, one that greatly improves upon the original, and one that does not. Overall, Halo 2 is a fun sequel, but does not expand upon or innovate gaming in the long run.