After years of sheepishly admitting that I've never played it, I finally played through
Half-Life. Yeah, the original one. I started
Halo at about the same time, so it was a nice contrast to play the 1998 shooter during the day, then the 2001 shooter at night. My TV has a wicked glare, so there is no console gaming (especially something as dark as Halo) during the day. Since it's summer, that means that I've finished
Half-Life while I'm barely halfway through
Halo.
We talked a lot about the wide road theory of game design when putting together
Immortal Throne. That is: we're building a road, or a strictly linear game. Essentially the player travels the road and sees the things you've set up, and fights the battles you've placed in his way. The wider you make the road, the more it feels like the player actually chooses his own experience, when actually, all he's choosing is whether to travel down the left side of the road or the right side.
Half-Life isn't a very wide road. In fact, mostly the road is a corridor wide. It's relentlessly linear, and everyone who's played it has had basically the same experience. So why is it hailed as a huge step forward in game design?
Because it never leaves that road, the writer now has a more or less linear plot that can unfold.
Everything happens from your POV. Scientists get sucked into vents, and if you see it, then you saw it. If you've turned away, then you might hear it. You might see it out of the corner of your eye (or screen, in this case), or you might just catch a glimpse of it as you're turning to look at something else. The story is told by the environment, with the occasional lapse into "you have to get to the lambda complex!"
not from some disembodied voice in your ear, but from a terrified scientist who isn't willing to leave the safety of the corner he's found. We know a little bit about what happened, but we piece together the events of that day from the things we see,
not what's told to us.
That's a great lesson for all game writers. Trust the audience. If you spell everything out in minute detail, your audience has probably already figured it out. If they don't get every little nuance of your world, so be it. It's their world now anyway. I'm not sure exactly what happened at Black Mesa, but I don't think Gordon Freeman or anyone involved it. I'm not exactly sure why I launched some satellite on the way to the Lambda Complex, but I figure someone will tell me eventually, or maybe not. Maybe it was the first step in bringing Breen to power, or maybe Breen was in power all through
Half-Life and it was just another day at the office away from City 17, or 15, or 2.
It made me think about the story as well as what kind of ammo I was using and how to sidestep and hide from army guys.
I've heard people complain about the jumping puzzles in the last third of the game, but sonny, there were jumping puzzles throughout. I lost much more health to ladder mishaps in Black Mesa than to alien beings from another dimension. It got to the point that before attempting to get on a ladder I would automatically save the game. The last third had weird alien platforms instead of broken catwalks and mountain ledges, but it was the same gameplay.
My one complaint is the giant baby-head at the end. (Is it okay to spoil a nine year old game? I know it was spoiled for me before I played, so I guess I'm returning the favor.) Fighting a giant alien baby tells me more about the designers' fears of fatherhood than about the alien race that's trying to invade Earth (or is Earth trying to invade them? That G-man guy sure does talk funny.) The actual killing of the baby-head is anticlimactic in the extreme, because it's more a factor of whether or not you have enough ammo, than any kind of gunplay. You jump into his head when it's open, and you shoot the floor (his brain) until you're out of ammo. It takes awhile, and I'm proud to say I killed the final boss of
Half-Life with the pistol (because I'd already unloaded everything else into it). Aargh!
On to
Half-Life 2!!!
Yeah, long way to go for a fat guy sitting in a chair. But you get some idea of the quality. Granted this was a pretty low-light condition, but it's about equivalent to my cell phone camera.
