Cole Luke - Blog
Half-Life gave me a full life: part two
A Red Letter Day
In 2005, my brother had already been in High School for a year and he was now way too cool to hang out with his cringe baby brother. Our primary school had around 80 pupils and so the social pool was limited and having no neighbours meant we spent a lot (all?) of our time together.
We played Final Fantasy IX, Sonic and Tails (I, of course, was Tails), painted our Chaos Space Marine army whilst listening to Beck and Blink-182 and made dens in the forest. It was a wonderfully simple time and it took time to adjust to the sudden dearth of brotherly bonding.
On the 5th of September of that year and our Great Uncle and Aunt were visiting from Australia and we had made the trip to Glasgow for a day out to see the sights. Highlights included a riveting tour of the post-industrial banks of the River Clyde by way of Pride O’ the Clyde, a fine vessel indeed.
All I was interested in was looking at the warships being built by BAE Systems because army stuff was cool. The day was typical for me in that I was feeling immensely shy because I didn’t actually know my relatives all that well and so clung to my mum and brother as I tried my best to have minimal interaction.
This awkward feeling quickly melted when the social lubricant of my brother and I getting a tenner each to spend loosened me up. “Perhaps they’re alright” I thought to myself as we stepped into GAME.
Now, a tenner isn’t going to get you much. Perhaps a couple pre-owned PS1 games or a bargain bin PC Game from the likes of Sold Out Software. The budget offering possibilities were endless yet unsatisfying. My feet carried me to the front of the shop by the window – the coveted spot where the best-selling games were ordered. That’s when I saw it.
Half-Life 2
Doctor Freeman, in all his rendered glory, looked back at me. Compared to the drawn and low-poly renditions of Gordon I had seen prior, he was strikingly lifelike. It was as if he were staring into my very soul. He knew what we had been through, together. I cannot understate how monumental this moment felt. The next chapter of the best game in the world was right in front of me. I picked it up. The price? Twenty pounds.
Gordon and I raced over to my brother. He saw the price. He understood. A financial agreement was settled upon, turning us into an economic powerhouse with the leverage needed to seal the deal. Ahead of us was the next phase of our corporate acquisition; negotiations with the financial and business practice regulators known as mum and dad.
Like the original, Half-Life 2 was a 15 which we were allowed to play, but it meant our parents would have to act as intermediaries in the transaction. We handed the two ten-pound notes to our dad. It was happening.
“Hey, Jack?”
“Mhmm?”
“We have Half-Life 2.”
“Hey, Cole?”
“Yeah?”
“We have Half-Life 2.”
The journey back was excruciating. The excitement we felt was beyond belief. I hadn’t actually caught much coverage of Half-Life 2 – I knew from magazines it was in the works but, because reading was boring, and I hadn’t seen any actual pictures, I was going in blind.
All I had to go off once again was the back of the case. PC GAMER, 96%, there it was again. PC Gamer wasn’t kidding the first time around, and to think it was going to be at least as good as the first instalment only heightened the anticipation.
That and the two photorealistic screenshots on the back. I recognised the headcrab zombies, which were somehow even more gruesome, but the soldiers shooting at unknown aliens mystified me. They looked alien themselves compared to the tangibly human HECU grunts of yore. We couldn’t wait any longer.
Our ageing computer grunted into life, the triumphant XP startup announcing the next era of PC gaming. We inserted the disc and ugh – we had to install Steam this time. I still majorly doubted the potential of this platform – the game is on the DVD-ROM, I can just download patches from Game Front.
Steam does at least serve one useful purpose. On my profile (technically shared with my brother), it proudly displays the day my life changed forever. Member since Septhember 5th, 2005.
“Rise and shine, Mr Freeman. Rise and shine.”
Wow. I mean wow.
I swear I could reach out and touch the Gman. For all intents and purposes, he was real. The opening is still to this day breathtaking. How our computer was capable of producing such visuals was sorcery.
Our fellow commuters on the train were also so exquisitely alive. The way their eyes looked right into you blew me away. These people had pasts, they were going to rest their heads that evening and fall asleep and wake up the next day and live. My eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
Stepping off the train into the great unknown; it was so new and exciting, yet felt reassuringly familiar. It was Half-Life.
Another old familiar feeling came back too. Here we were again, my brother and I on a new adventure together with him at the controls and myself parked in the old, trusty spot just behind on a chewed-up office chair. Life was good. Boy, were we in for a treat.
We step off the train, a speech rings out from a huge monitor looking down on us when all of a sudden, a scanner swoops in and takes a photo. The flash is blinding and hammers home just how disorientated Gordon, my brother and myself are. What has happened to the world? Where are we? The screen has the answers.
“Welcome, welcome to City 17. You have chosen, or been chosen to relocate to one of Earth's finest remaining urban centres.”
Remaining? This can’t be good.
A Civil Protection Officer is harassing a citizen, disgruntled, he pushes him into a pile of suitcases. They fall to the floor. This was the moment that every game I had played up to this point became static. The physics engine beautifully captured something so simple that was concurrently so profound. The gravity of this was not lost on me.
We were two minutes in and already the game had effortlessly demonstrated what it truly meant to be next-gen; unbelievably real visuals, emotive characters with stunning facial animation and performance and a truly revolutionary physics engine. For all I was concerned, this wasn’t next-gen, this was technology from the far future.
One of my fondest memories from all of Half-Life 2 is the seesaw puzzle in Route Kanal. It’s so brilliantly simple in its execution that even an eight (and eleven months) year old could figure it out. It gives depth and literal weight to the gameworld. A truly transcendent moment in gaming.
The ensuing journey we embarked on is one of the most memorable times of my life. Stepping out into City 17 for the first time, the apartment raid, being pursued across the rooftops, getting knocked out and greeted by Alyx Vance (hello new childhood crush (and no I never installed that mod)), Kleiner's Lab, the canals, Black Mesa East. I could just go on and on and on. It’s something I desperately wish I could relive with fresh eyes once more.
Perhaps a moment more memorable and one I wish to experience again for the first time above all would be the introduction of the Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator or simply put, the Gravity Gun.
I thought the seesaw was revolutionary, this was an evolutionary quantum leap. It remains today by far my favourite utility and weapon in any game, ever. For me, it perfectly encapsulates intrinsically what Half-Life is – innovation. When I think of Half-Life, I think of the Gravity Gun.
What follows after this is a complete tonal shift. Ravenholm. The name itself is foreboding. The original Half-Life scared the wits out of me as it was. How was I to cope in this ultra-real, dark and zombie-infested environment? With the Gravity Gun, that’s how.
Our quick lesson with Dog minutes prior was promptly put into action. On entering Ravenholm, you are quite brilliantly brought into a shed where a zombie has been cut in two by a saw-blade. It became clear what needed to be done. Despite anticipating it, my brother and I were smitten by the brutal severing of headcrab-zombie torso from legs by way of the Gravity Gun.
The motif of a utility being turned into a savage weapon of war fits the themes of the game perfectly, of mankind's fervent desire to resist and oppose its otherworldly oppressors by any means. So, whilst again I found myself quaking in my HEV’s boots, the fear was dulled by the sharp end of a hurtling saw. It is pure genius at play and this is demonstrated time and time again, right up until the final moments.
When we finally climbed our way to the top of the Citadel, I was a changed boy. My expectations of video games had once again been elevated to new lofty heights by the mastery of VALVe. It was, however, a bittersweet moment.
My brother would go back to talking to girls on MSN and petitioning the local council to build a skatepark and there would be little room for me in his pubescent schedule. VALVe however had an ace up its sleeve, Hammer SDK.
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