Genre: First Person Shooter
Year: 2001
Developed by: Bungie
Published by: Microsoft Game Studios
Platforms: Xbox, PC, Mac OS X, XBOX 360
#37
Feeling Like: Masterful
SLAYER.
Boop. Boop. Boop. BOOP!
I can hear this countdown in my sleep. In Grade 11 & 12, I tried to spend as much time as possible at the Smith household. That was where the party was. It was either Smash Bros. Melee or Halo: Combat Evolved and Halo won most of the time. I didn’t have access to an Xbox (and never would), but I did have access to some fantastic friends who were kind enough to host us nearly every day after class. Although really, I should be thankful for Kyle & Ian’s mother, Patricia. She was the one who ordered us food and insisted we could stay over if we wished.
I can’t think of another game I’ve played more where my skills never improved. Maybe golf. But it didn’t matter, the frantic fracas that come with four player split-screen ensure that everybody can score a headshot, or a cheap melee-from-behind-instant-kill. Haphazardly thrown grenades would sometimes find their target, much to my glee and other’s chagrin. I couldn’t out-snipe the Commodore, or outwait Kyle, or even win a match, but there was nothing like slumping our backpacks at the door and rushing downstairs for a lengthy session of Halo before we had to scamper home for dinner.
Whether we were doing the campaign cooperatively, or slaughtering each other in Blood Gulch, it didn’t matter. The point was that we were playing THE game of 2001/2002, I mean you couldn’t go anywhere without people talking about it. This was the “cool” console, the heir apparent to Goldeneye 007 with the added benefit of a framerate that wasn’t torturous.
As luck as I was to have the Commodore alongside me for all 3 Gears games, I couldn’t help but beg him for a Halo: Combat Evolved writeup. He was at the heart of our sessions, nowhere near hesitant enough to shy away from proposing a Halo night and bombastic enough to ensure everybody got some attention. I’ve never laughed harder, or more often, than being in Scott and Dave’s presence particularly when we were engaged in some shared activity. Halo was a lot more fun than schoolwork, and I’m not doing a blog about my top 500 High School Subjects, so thankfully Scott agreed. Here are his thoughts.
(Scott)
In September 2001, I started my last year of high school. In November 2001, Halo was released. (Sorry – that’s Halo: Combat Evolved, for the sticklers.) Our friends Kyle and Ian had a house by the ocean, a hospitable mom, a basement with comfy couches, and a big TV (this was before everyone had a big TV). After that Christmas, they also had an original Xbox, a copy of Halo, and four controllers. And a lot of friends who suddenly wanted to be in their basement all the time.
You can imagine what the rest of my high school career looked like. Halo didn’t actually do that many things for the first time, but it did so much so well, all at the same time. Vehicle-based combat with zanily fun physics. Huge, almost open-world levels. An epic soundtrack. Combining ridiculously intense action with a sense of humour. Random happenings (grenade chain reactions set off by a rocket launcher, anyone?) destroying your progress, but making you laugh instead of scream. Beautifully balanced, completely satisfying weapons and combos – not many things in gaming can match pinning down a squad of Grunts with your assault rifle while you race towards them, and then finishing them off with a few overpowered punches to the face.
Most of all, the co-op mode. So well-honed, with that feeling that much of the game was actually designed around it. It could make even the less-than-stellar parts of the game fun. Those levels where you go through copies of the same room again and again? When you’re playing with pals, suddenly you’re in a race to see who can clear their side of the room fastest. Or one of you could hang back as a respawn point, so the other guy could try a completely insane speedrun maneuver.
The great memories blur together from our first few months in the basement with that game, but I can give some impressions: Shouts of “F***, he stuck me!” or “Flip the tank!” Our unofficial Halo slogan, “Don’t think; punch,” of which every successful puncher in a multiplayer match would gleefully remind the unfortunate punchee. Daring to battle the Flood on Legendary, and finally winning. Reading the game’s backstory from the booklet in the front of the box (how much do we all miss this?). Straining to hear the weirdly quiet cutscene dialogue…?
And, wandering outside between deathmatches to smell the fresh air, look out at the ocean, and have that funny feeling of nostalgia for something you’re right in the middle of. Is that last one a little corny? Sure; but true. We had seen the movies and heard the songs – we already knew we would remember these times for the rest of our lives, and never quite have them again. My dad pulled me aside one morning before school, when I must have looked particularly bleary-eyed after a late night. “I’m glad you’re out there living your life, but you need to get a decent night’s sleep too,” he told me. “Just get home at a reasonable time on school nights.”
“But Dad – we’ve been working on our physics project,” I protested. Which was, more or less, true. What I didn’t mention was our typical schedule of one hour of actual physics homework, followed by one hour of work on the important physics project of the trajectory required to stick a plasma grenade to a Covenant Elite’s shoulder from a distance while leaping out of an overturning Warthog. So that’s what Halo means to me: lost youth, lost sleep, and about as much fun as I could have with my best friends in 2002.
(Scott’s writeup finished)
Beautifully said. It’s hard to overstate the impact Halo had on the industry upon its launch. Without it, there wouldn’t be a Microsoft gaming division. Ever since we first lied eyes on the very first trailer during E3 (RIP) 2000, we were spellbound. It was a revolutionary launch, and the subsequent sequels dominated online play for a long, long time. It certainly helped us get through some tumultuous, yet halcyon days of late teenage hood. I wouldn’t swap those memories for anything.
The 500 