Who is “Gordon Freeman"? A messianic savior? A silent protagonist? A few letters of separation from a famous Hollywood actor? Half-Life would have you believe he’s an MIT graduate, just your run-of-the-mill theoretical physicist who’s late for work. The opening act of the game might just have you buying into that narrative, with its creeping, introspective atmosphere and minimal weaponry, but it isn’t long before our hero shows his hand.
He’s Doomguy in a pair of glasses.
I’m only half-joking with that one; the FPS genre was still operating under many of the same fundamental tools and techniques as its id Software fore-parent, and struggling to escape the whole “DOOM-clone” moniker. Between analogous loadouts, a similar enemy design philosophy, and a premise that’s practically identical between the two games, that comparison is tough to shake. But Half-Life did manage to escape that reputation in a pretty big way, and that comes down to the strength of its direction. The story evolves in first-person, alongside the gameplay, almost never withholding your control. The sound design, screenshake, and moody visual ambiance accentuate every earth-shattering moment of catastrophe, along with the quiet aftermath. That first act where a failed experiment causes an outpouring of monsters into our dimension is hardly an afterthought in DOOM’s manual, but Valve gives it time to breathe and play out in full, with the player thrust into the shoes of a firsthand participant. The facility crumbles all around you, your coworkers scramble for cover as alien creatures burst through glass dividers and doorframes, and you can’t help wondering if your character is directly at fault for this apocalyptic turn of events.
If there was ever any reason to assign Gordon the badge of “scientist,” that’s it. The “Opposing Force” and “Blue Shift” expansions would prove just how meaningless that distinction is on the actual playing of the game, you never do anything that only a theoretical physicist could do beyond this point, but the choice in preserving and even deepening Doomguy’s quiet stoicism was a savvy one. The HEV suit’s virtual assistant might not do much for me (“USER DEATH IMMINENT”), but the character’s stalwart silence gives our ability to underhandedly murder our dopey NPC friends some actual canonical credence. We decide just how far off the rails Gordon will go, and this first game doesn’t ever push back on a less savory interpretation of the character (on the other hand, just having the option to mess with NPCs makes a more stable Gordon seem even more patient and clear-headed than he might be without one). Personally, I prefer to think of the entirety of the game as one big “what-if” scenario. What if an MIT graduate with zero military training could out-class an entire platoon’s worth of men and monsters? Considering just how easily he goes down, Freeman’s a Deadman without the quicksave feature.
Artistically satisfying as it can be to witness this story developing in real time, spinning further and further into disaster with every passing moment, Half-Life hits a bit of a lull in its midsection, where it fully decides to trade in its “Alien” for the more explosive “Aliens.” It is a bizarrely long stretch before it satisfies its hunger for deathmatch arenas filled with army goons. Though I appreciated that almost every piece of equipment maintains utility for a pretty vast chunk of the experience, it doesn’t compete with DOOM on its home turf. The more it leaned into that angle, the more I began to lose interest. The enemy AI is shockingly competent, but it was hard not to feel like Half-Life was missing its own point by swapping its otherwise cerebral approach for high-octane madness. The cohesion and believability of the Black Mesa facility was remarkable almost the whole way through, but having to scrounge for the one conveniently-placed tunnel or passageway that’d invariably carry me out of each area and into the next began to feel more contrived the longer it droned on, and however long you think it is, I can almost guarantee you that Half-Life is longer. It’s at its best in its early hours, when resources are low, tension is high, and enemy arrangements require nigh Portal-esque cleverness to overcome (some bits of its structure are evocative of early 3D Zelda dungeons, which is funny to think about considering this game came out within only a couple days of Ocarina of Time).
The wonder at Half-Life's seemingly endless creativity eventually turns to boredom at its seeming endlessness. The late game isn’t nearly as bad as some like to claim, but I felt it did somewhat undermine the uniqueness and mystery of the setting to a degree I’m not sure I agree with. It’s a little rambling and a little broken (alright, maybe a LOT broken), and it kinda loses its grip, and no game should ever ship with ladders as repulsive as these, and it’s practically built around this dumpy quicksave system, but I wouldn’t dream of arguing with what Half-Life is going for…or at least, what I think it’s going for. Environmental storytelling, a confident and flowing narrative progression, visual consistency, drama that emerges naturally via the rules of the game and thoughtful direction, it has a lot of what I was just raving about with Prince of Persia, it just had to rein itself in a little and assess its own strengths. If Half-Life’s numbered sequel is any indication, though, Gabe Newell and I probably don’t agree on what those strengths are.
He’s Doomguy in a pair of glasses.
I’m only half-joking with that one; the FPS genre was still operating under many of the same fundamental tools and techniques as its id Software fore-parent, and struggling to escape the whole “DOOM-clone” moniker. Between analogous loadouts, a similar enemy design philosophy, and a premise that’s practically identical between the two games, that comparison is tough to shake. But Half-Life did manage to escape that reputation in a pretty big way, and that comes down to the strength of its direction. The story evolves in first-person, alongside the gameplay, almost never withholding your control. The sound design, screenshake, and moody visual ambiance accentuate every earth-shattering moment of catastrophe, along with the quiet aftermath. That first act where a failed experiment causes an outpouring of monsters into our dimension is hardly an afterthought in DOOM’s manual, but Valve gives it time to breathe and play out in full, with the player thrust into the shoes of a firsthand participant. The facility crumbles all around you, your coworkers scramble for cover as alien creatures burst through glass dividers and doorframes, and you can’t help wondering if your character is directly at fault for this apocalyptic turn of events.
If there was ever any reason to assign Gordon the badge of “scientist,” that’s it. The “Opposing Force” and “Blue Shift” expansions would prove just how meaningless that distinction is on the actual playing of the game, you never do anything that only a theoretical physicist could do beyond this point, but the choice in preserving and even deepening Doomguy’s quiet stoicism was a savvy one. The HEV suit’s virtual assistant might not do much for me (“USER DEATH IMMINENT”), but the character’s stalwart silence gives our ability to underhandedly murder our dopey NPC friends some actual canonical credence. We decide just how far off the rails Gordon will go, and this first game doesn’t ever push back on a less savory interpretation of the character (on the other hand, just having the option to mess with NPCs makes a more stable Gordon seem even more patient and clear-headed than he might be without one). Personally, I prefer to think of the entirety of the game as one big “what-if” scenario. What if an MIT graduate with zero military training could out-class an entire platoon’s worth of men and monsters? Considering just how easily he goes down, Freeman’s a Deadman without the quicksave feature.
Artistically satisfying as it can be to witness this story developing in real time, spinning further and further into disaster with every passing moment, Half-Life hits a bit of a lull in its midsection, where it fully decides to trade in its “Alien” for the more explosive “Aliens.” It is a bizarrely long stretch before it satisfies its hunger for deathmatch arenas filled with army goons. Though I appreciated that almost every piece of equipment maintains utility for a pretty vast chunk of the experience, it doesn’t compete with DOOM on its home turf. The more it leaned into that angle, the more I began to lose interest. The enemy AI is shockingly competent, but it was hard not to feel like Half-Life was missing its own point by swapping its otherwise cerebral approach for high-octane madness. The cohesion and believability of the Black Mesa facility was remarkable almost the whole way through, but having to scrounge for the one conveniently-placed tunnel or passageway that’d invariably carry me out of each area and into the next began to feel more contrived the longer it droned on, and however long you think it is, I can almost guarantee you that Half-Life is longer. It’s at its best in its early hours, when resources are low, tension is high, and enemy arrangements require nigh Portal-esque cleverness to overcome (some bits of its structure are evocative of early 3D Zelda dungeons, which is funny to think about considering this game came out within only a couple days of Ocarina of Time).
The wonder at Half-Life's seemingly endless creativity eventually turns to boredom at its seeming endlessness. The late game isn’t nearly as bad as some like to claim, but I felt it did somewhat undermine the uniqueness and mystery of the setting to a degree I’m not sure I agree with. It’s a little rambling and a little broken (alright, maybe a LOT broken), and it kinda loses its grip, and no game should ever ship with ladders as repulsive as these, and it’s practically built around this dumpy quicksave system, but I wouldn’t dream of arguing with what Half-Life is going for…or at least, what I think it’s going for. Environmental storytelling, a confident and flowing narrative progression, visual consistency, drama that emerges naturally via the rules of the game and thoughtful direction, it has a lot of what I was just raving about with Prince of Persia, it just had to rein itself in a little and assess its own strengths. If Half-Life’s numbered sequel is any indication, though, Gabe Newell and I probably don’t agree on what those strengths are.