RC Reviews: Halo 3: ODST

Halo 3: ODST, recycles the gameplay of earlier Halo games, which is not necessarily a bad thing, while it brings a few new things to the table.

The most obvious addition to the series is Firefight, a cooperative mode that throws wave after wave of enemies at up to four players. This is insanely fun. As the game progresses, the enemies get harder to beat, while the game also turns on skulls, which are the Halo version of cheat codes, that make the game even harder. I could get bogged down in the minutiae of this mode, but I will just say that it is really fun and you should try it.

The next part of Halo 3: ODST is the campaign. The story opens with the rookie alone and completely surrounded in an occupied city called New Mombassa, hours after getting separated from your squad. As the rookie, you are tasked with finding out what happened while you were unconscious. As you progress, you find clues, which trigger flashbacks. These flashbacks allow you to play as other characters, which shows what happened to your team. These are fun, but the real star is New Mombassa itself. Most of the game is spent exploring the city at night. The tone the designers attempted to create was of a film noir. The lonely jazz music and frequently empty streets helped achieve that. I'm not sure if I would credit them with succeeding entirely, but they were able to create a pitch-perfect sense of isolation.

Some of you may be interested to know that Nathan Fillion, Alan Tudyk, Adam Balwin, and Tricia Helfer voice characters in this game. Yes the three nerdiest things I enjoy: Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, and video games, all got together and made a [disgusting metaphor deleted]. Now, for much of the game, you play as the rookie, the mute, faceless character with no personality. I assume that the goal was to put the player into a blank character, so they could blah blah blah. My issue is that Halo 3: ODST is full of interesting and underutilized characters, and much of the game is played as nobody interesting at all.

The most common complaint I have heard is that the game is too short. I probably spent about six or eight hours playing through the campaign, but I also spent a fair amount of time exploring. I think it would be possible to finish in as few as three or four hours.

I think that the campaign in Halo 3: ODST, though marred by some nagging problems, is the best campaign in the Halo franchise. The thoughtful inclusion of Halo 3's multiplayer was a nice value-add, but the real prize is Firefight. Incredibly fun, this mode is easily worth half the price of the game. Now many of the reviews that I have seen address the price of this game. I think that is an incredibly silly thing to do, but here goes my shot at it.

Firefight: Easily worth $15, possibly as much as $20

The Campaign: I'd say I got $20 worth of fun out of it

The Halo 3 Multiplayer Disc: The three new maps will probably go on sale in a month or two for $10

So there you have it, Halo 3: ODST is a steal at $60. Now, this sort of math is total bullshit, but I have seen it thrown around in other reviews of this game as if it matters. The only thing that matters is do you personally think this game is worth the money. I for one do.

A Strong Argument

Why don't more people get the point? All we want is for everybody to be treated like they matter.

The Hurt Locker

It would be a mistake to call The Hurt Locker the most intense movie I have ever seen in the the theater. While true, this doesn't communicate the complicated personal story being told. The movie follows an Army bomb removal squad in Baghdad in 2004. Staff Sergeant William James, played by Jeremy Renner, is almost pathologically addicted to risk. As the new bomb tech in the squad, he is incredibly skilled and reckless. As the commanding officer in the unit, he has the authority to make incredibly dangerous decisions. The squad is rounded out by Anthony Mackie and Brian Geraghty, as Sergeant JT Sanborn and Specialist Owen Eldridge, respectively. Both of these actors do a fine job with characters that seem less complicated because they are missing that huge flaw. Mackie and Geraghty resist the urge to play it big and melodramatic, bringing a humanity to the hell.

The most obvious area where this movie excels is in the combat. Bigelow treats every encounter with a bomb as a battle. On the one side is the army. On the opposition is the insurgency. But how do you fight an enemy which looks like, and has learned to act like, the innocent population? This question leads to some of the most intense scenes in the film.

Katherine Bigelow has created a truly economic film about the physical and psychic risk that soldiers encounter. There are only a handful of scenes that do not relate to specific missions. These scenes help ground the characters and show the audience how untethered they have become.

As a balls to the wall action movie, The Hurt Locker is a failure, but as a highly charged character study, it is a complete success. I can't help but recommend this one.

Soon my pretties, soon.

I have just recently finished moving, and have just set up my internet. Like an hour ago. Unpacking is going very slowly, largely due to the surprising amount of crap that I own, but also because I am a lazy wanker. Hopefully, I will be able to get back into it soon, before this turns into one of those once-a-month-whether-I-have-anything-to-say-or-not blogs.

To tide you over, I present this guy:

Comic-Con Issue #2.5

So I apologize, but shortly after my last post, my life fell into chaos. I'm moving to hilly Charlottesville on Friday, so I don't think I'll be able to post much of anything until early next week.

So, to tide you over, here is my flickr page on Comic-Con. The goofy guy without the beard is my brother Sam. Look for him in the upcoming independent short, "Something Animal." The goofy guy with the beard is me.

Also, to answer your inevitable question, yes that is Joss Whedon, and yes he was super-nice.

Comic-Con Issue #2

So yesterday at Comic-Con, I caught the end of a lecture on the legal issues of comics. Somehow, it was awesome, but I don't know how.

Immediately after, Mike Mignola gave a fantastic talk about how he does his creepy minimalistic artwork. If you don't know who Mike Mignola is, he is the creator of Hellboy. If you do know who Mike Mignola is, you are a nerd.

After a failed attempt to get into a Neil Gaiman panel, my brother and I sat in on a panel with Kevin J. Anderson. I hate Kevin J. Anderson. It wasn't that he seems like a schlock writer who seemed proud that he can pump out a complete novel in about a month. I hate him because he was a self-worshiping jackass who talked shit about some truly great writers like Ray Bradbury.

After Kevin J. Godihatethisguy, Stephan Pastis, creator of Pearls Before Swine, gave a truly great talk about creating a popular comic strip. He was genuinely funny and self-deprecating. It is no exaggeration to say that the entire room was laughing for most of the panel. Afterwards, he signed books and sketched his characters.

Most of the day, I wandered around the show floor. This was supremely interesting, but i don't have a way to upload the photos I have. Look for that early next week.

Comic-Con

Well, it's 8:30 in the evening in San Diego. Day one of Comic-Con is now behind me. After waiting in line for an hour or more, myh brother and I went to another line to wait for an hour or more to play ten minutes of video games.

After hitting a few booths, we waited in line for an hour or more to see sneek footage of James Cameron's Avatar. In 3D. By the way, it looks really cool. The story looks ok, but visually, I was super impressed.

The next panel I saw was Terry Gilliam's The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. It looks like a great Gilliam movie, in other words, the visuals look amazing and the story sounds incredible. I cannot wait.

I also saw a bunch of people that can only be called famous in very limited circles. But I saw Richard Hatch. Also the guys from Penny Arcade and two of the guys from Red vs. Blue.

All in all, this is truly nerd mecca.

The Beastie Boys

So I was hanging out with my boy Wade, when he told me some crazy shit. MCA has cancer. Here's the official announcement, via beastieboys.com

The Services I Provide

This week, I will be subjecting myself to jetlag, Southern California, and my brother in an attempt to bring the very latest in geek news to my readers. I will be attending the San Diego Comic-Con this week. Despite the hectic schedule, long days, and tiny laptop, I believe that the sheer volume of awesome will compel me to be somewhat more timely in my posts.

Here is a story I wrote.

The wind claws at her eyes, but she grins ferociously as the tears pour down her face. Gordon was right, this hill is worth the drive. She readjusts her front foot slightly. She must be doing thirty, she thinks, as she checks over her shoulder for any cars. None. She is in an aggressive lunging crouch, perched on her longboard. Her arms held back and relaxed belie the adrenalin coursing through her body. Her legs twitch slightly, sending minute course corrections to her board. Almost unconsciously, she turns slightly to avoid a small rock. That one was probably not large enough to kill her, but better safe. Blinking away the tears, she double checks for oncoming traffic. Seeing none, she checks behind herself once more. There. One car. Red. Mid-size. Maybe ten seconds back. She drifts into the oncoming lane and waits. As the car passes, she grins at the startled driver. One pair of devil horns for the gawker, a double-check on traffic, and a small shift in her weight. She is back in her lane and still accelerating. She briefly wonders how long this run has been. She has never bombed a longer hill. Over two minutes in, and less than halfway down. She lowers her stance, hoping to lose a little wind resistance. Her thighs are burning now, but she is flying. Thirty five at least. She sees the red car slowing down. No, she is accelerating. The wind must have been killing her speed. She lowers herself again. This is almost too low. Her legs are screaming, but she is gaining on the car. As she approaches, she sees an oncoming car. Black SUV. Blinking furiously, she does a quick calculation. No time to slow down, definitely no chance to stop, and just enough space between the lanes. For five seconds, she is a blur on the yellow line, surrounded by steel and shrieking wind. The wake of the SUV nearly tears her off her board. Wobbling slightly, she regains her footing. Then, only the board and the road are left. She resists the urge to reach out and touch the car as she finishes the pass.