When the recent Halo remake trailer dropped, I felt something I wasn’t expecting: genuine excitement.
The visuals looked incredible. The Halo ring looked more mysterious and awe-inspiring than ever. Master Chief looked fantastic. The atmosphere was spot on. For a few moments I was transported back to the early 2000s, remembering all the hype that surrounded Microsoft’s big green-armoured mascot.
Then reality kicked in.
I remembered that when I first played Halo, I wasn’t actually blown away by it.
Now, before the pitchforks come out, let me explain.
The Halo Everyone Else Played
Back in 2001, one of my friends, Vern, absolutely loved Halo.
Every time we met up he’d be singing its praises. The graphics. The vehicles. The AI. According to Vern, Halo wasn’t just good – it was the future of gaming.
After hearing about it for what seemed like weeks, maybe months, my expectations were sky high. (In reality, it was probably just one afternoon in the pub.)
This wasn’t just another shooter. This was supposed to be the game that changed everything.
Eventually I got my chance to play it as I picked it up a few days later.
And my reaction?
“It was alright.”
Not bad.
Not terrible.
Just… alright.
Good, But Not Mind-Blowing
Don’t get me wrong. Halo did a lot of things well.
The shooting felt solid. The Covenant enemies were fun to fight. The Warthog wasn’t always great fun to drive; it often seemed determined to launch itself off a cliff. The soundtrack was excellent and gave the game a real sense of scale.
But I never had that jaw-dropping moment that so many other players seemed to experience.
Maybe it was because I’d grown up through the home computer era and the constant technological leaps of the 1980s and 1990s.
I’d gone from a home Pong machine and an Atari 2600 to a ZX Spectrum, then through the Amiga years and beyond. I’d watched gaming evolve at an astonishing pace. Every few years there was something genuinely revolutionary appearing on store shelves.
Compared to those leaps, Halo felt more like a very polished evolution than a revolution.
The Problem With Going Back
The funny thing is that today, twenty-five years later, many people remember Halo as a flawless masterpiece.
The reality is a little more complicated.
The first half of the game remains excellent. Landing on Halo for the first time may still be a memorable moment. The wide-open environments probably still hold up surprisingly well.
Then there’s the second half.
The endless corridors.
The repeated environments.
The constant backtracking.
And of course, The Library.
Even many Halo fans will admit that The Library feels less like a level and more like a punishment.
What felt acceptable in 2001 can feel incredibly repetitive by modern standards.
Nostalgia Is A Powerful Thing
The remake trailer reminded me of something important.
Most of us don’t remember games exactly as they were.
We remember how they made us feel.
We remember staying up late playing with friends.
We remember arguing in the playground about which weapon was best.
We remember the excitement of getting a new console.
We remember the time in our lives as much as we remember the game itself.
That’s why so many people look back on Halo with such affection.
They’re not just remembering a shooter.
They’re remembering LAN parties, split-screen multiplayer, late-night gaming sessions and a period when Xbox felt like the exciting new kid on the block.
The Halo Dilemma
Which raises an interesting question.
If this remake really is happening, what exactly should it be?
Should it be a faithful recreation of the original game, complete with every repetitive corridor and every bit of backtracking?
Or should it be the version people remember in their heads?
The Halo that felt bigger, faster and more exciting than it perhaps really was?
Because those are two very different games.
Looking Back
Today I can appreciate Halo far more than I did when I first played it.
I understand why it was important.
I understand why it helped establish Xbox as a serious competitor.
I understand why so many players consider it one of the defining games of its generation.
But I still can’t honestly say it ever blew me away.
While Vern was telling everyone who would listen that Halo was the greatest thing since sliced bread, I was sat there thinking it was simply a good shooter.
Not a bad game.
Not an overrated disaster.
Just a very good game that somehow became a legend.
And perhaps that’s the biggest compliment I can give it.
Twenty-five years later, we’re still talking about it, and if Vern were still with us, I know he’d be hyped for this.
