The Ant Nest

Many a Half-Life fan has tried to discern the true nature of the G-Man’s mysterious role in the game’s universe. It has often struck me that perhaps that universe is the wrong place to be looking. On the train journeys that bracket the games and that serve as a metaphorical transition between the Half-Life world and the real world, Gordon has one major companion - the G-Man.

Who else would want to make the journey from real world into the Half-Life world, other than the players? Valve’s game designers have a penchant for watching their players, as expressed in their extensive use of playtesting (documented in Half-Life 2: Episode One’s commentary) and statistics gathering. I’d wager that they would love to come along for the ride.

The G-Man’s role to date, then, is this: He is the personification of Valve within the Half-Life world.

He’s the nod and the wink that says “we both know this isn’t real, but let’s pretend it is anyway”. He’s the guy checking up on players, ensuring they don’t get stuck and smoothing the road ahead. He’s making sure they see everything he wants them to see and nothing he doesn’t. He’s the cartoon character on the front of the train, laying the track out just in time for the train to speed onto it. The G-Man and Valve’s designers are both in the business of giving an illusion of choice where there is none. Both are in the shadows, manipulating their puppet into willingly doing their bidding,

But Valve have announced their intent to give the G-Man a real role in the story over the course of their coming trio of episodes. The G-Man is physically forced off the stage at the start of Episode One, even. Much like Dr. Breen in the closing minutes of Half-Life 2, Valve’s designers find themselves in need of a new host body.

Step forward please, Alyx Vance.

As Gordon’s partner throughout Half-Life 2: Episode One, Alyx’s presence gives Valve’s designers the opportunity to interact with and talk directly to players at every point of the game. She tells them when to be pleased with themselves, when to be scared and when to relax. Like the G-Man, she helps Gordon when he gets stuck, and she offers help when players gets stuck too. Like the G-Man in Half-Life 2, she is the first (living) character players set eyes on in Episode One. As if to complete their affinity, she even acquires her own “briefcase” midway through the game, replete with ambiguous contents.

That Valve’s designers have gone from hiding in the shadows to hiding right under players’ noses, from stalking players to riding pillion with them, is emblematic of the confidence that pervades and defines Episode One.

Upon announcing the game, Robin Walker declared “Right now, we’re really, really good at making Half Life 2. We think our customers want a lot more of Half Life 2. That’s what we’re going to give them.” A year later, the finished product is true to his word. Episode One blends action, puzzles and narration in a way that feels self-assured, natural and flowing. It exposes Half-Life 2 as fragmented and disjointed by comparison. The game revisits many favourite moments from its prequel - superheroics in the eerie citadel, zombie-induced claustrophobia and vicious street battles. Each is lean and efficient like the game’s sprinting zombie-banshees, yet each has a new twist to keep its reanimated corpse mobile for a few more hours.

More than that, Valve’s designers are keen to show they are still a dab hand at making more Half-Life 1. Episode One revisits many key themes and gameplay elements, from survival in a univerally hostile environment, to a subterranean struggle for the surface. As Gordon crawls into his first vent since 1998, Alyx readily expresses Valve’s self-awareness on their behalf. The game’s focus on Alyx’s companionship is, of course, firmly rooted in Barney’s camaraderie in the halls of Black Mesa.

It is with Alyx, the episode’s centrepiece, that Valve’s confidence is most apparent. While the G-Man’s message was “this isn’t real, but let’s pretend”, Alyx comes with no such caveat. Instead, in Episode One, Valve’s designers are asking players to accept HL2’s most prominent offspring as genuinely, convincingly real.

This realness is built up in progressive layers. A tricky ledge scramble at the very start of the game quickly dispels any fears that Alyx might need babysitting. Her navigation is flawless throughout - a very necessary achievement, given the damage even the slightest hiccup would cause. With this strong foundation, Alyx is shown as independent and capable, forming plans and using her knowledge and initiative inside the citadel. Established as a rational entity, her realness is powerfully rounded out in the aftermath of a traumatic train ride that exposes her emotional side. With the process complete, a number of set pieces emphasising Gordon and Alyx’s interdependence build an emotional bond. Good use of humour and smaller details strengthen the attachment, like Alyx’s comfort within Gordon’s personal space, consistent with the behaviour of a good friend.

This cycle of capable-rational-emotional perpetuates throughout the game. Coupled with countless other aspects that I’m sure I haven’t scratched the surface of, Alyx represents a landmark accomplishment. It’s hard to put it into relative terms when Valve’s competitors still lag behind even what Half-Life 2 achieved. It’s harder still to put it into absolute terms without being made to look foolish by future progress. But I would say this: Many an armchair commentator has bemoaned the ever widening gap between graphical fidelity and character fidelity. Alyx represents a major feat in bridging that chasm (for now).

It’s a blossoming romance then, but she’s not a girl without issues. There are several points at which Valve’s desires as designers are inconsistent with Alyx’s behaviour as a friend. A call from Dad in the game’s opening moments has her scrambling to pick up the phone, oblivious that she just left Gordon stuck down a well (letting Valve teach players about the gravity gun). However scarce Gordon finds his ammo, she never once offers any from her own limitless supply. And of course, unless you accept that primal male fantasy of attracting a mate through action over speechcraft, you’ll wonder why Alyx pays Gordon so much interest in the first place.

At the level of feeling snubbed by a friend these are rather trivial issues, but they point to a deeper malaise within the game. Every game offers a different balance of exciting things to see and exciting things to do. For cinematic games, that balance is a very fine line between providing as much to see as possible, but not so much that a player starts to feel more like an observer than a participant.

Valve push this observer-participant balance to its very limits. Their promotional teasers for the game shout “Look at the cool things Alyx can do!” and this is very much the tone throughout the game. She climbs the obstacles you can’t scale, she shoots while you point, she gets the guns you aren’t allowed to have. She opens the doors, hacks the terminals and reprograms the rollermines. She stamps on the headcrabs and drop kicks the zombies. She cracks the jokes and asks if you’re okay. She talks to the other characters on your behalf, like some guide dog for the mute.

An asymmetry of abilities between Gordon and Alyx is certainly more interesting and desirable than yet another omnipotent FPS protagonist - this is one of the continuing strengths of the Half-Life series. But at the point where the lack of abilities starts to feel more like disabilities, the construct of Gordon Freeman as more than just camera-with-gun-attached runs a genuine risk of breaking. Ironically, the greatest concern in Episode One is that Alyx might seem robotic, but the greatest danger is that Gordon comes across that way.

This isn’t to say that this has all escaped Valve’s notice. An early piece of developer commentary notes the difficulty and effort expended explaining Alyx’s climbing ability. Later pieces discuss the fine tuning required to prevent Alyx impacting on players’ sense of overall control. With Gordon’s “direct intervention” at the core of this episode, Valve continue the series long theme of giving Gordon’s actions bold and dramatic consequences - making them ‘exciting things to do’ even if it wasn’t strictly players’ doing.

Most prominent in balancing against ‘exciting things to see’ is of course the gravity gun, Half-Life 2’s Swiss Army Knife of fun possibilities. Flinging debris into zombies’ faces doesn’t get old, but in case it did, Episode One’s version introduces new ways of dispatching them. Coupled with a fresh, creative set of indirect and non-combat uses, Alyx’s new abilities are deftly matched.

Summed together, the danger is averted. As far as Episode One goes, these problems are relegated to niggles in the back of my mind. (Though I’m curious to see whether it stays that way in future episodes, and I pity the FPS developers who are trying to keep the same balance without the benefit of the gravity gun.)

The confidence that pervades Episode One has one main source: the episodic development model, which Valve has evangelised in recent months. While the effects on developers will be debated for years to come, the benefits for me as a gamer are immediately present.

Shorter and cheaper are very welcome, for all the obvious reasons. Though I’m always eager for more Half-Life, 5 hours is a better fit for how long I want to spend with any one game and $20 is much easier to spend than $50. Value for money is subjective, but any numerical analysis suggests a parity with full price games. 4-6 hours of play at $20 is much the same as 10-15 hours at $50. The game packs those hours into only a fifth as many map files (14 as opposed to 71), lending credence to Valve’s suggestion that Episode One is a richer and denser experience than its predecessor.

Despite this, some have grumbled about the game’s value. I put this down to some indirect consequences of the overall shorter experience. The point at which one puts a game down is the point at which one is reminded of the money spent on it (a largely discrete sensation, independent of the actual price). After only 4 hours, this recollection is much sharper, with purchase and completion possible on the same day.

One way of delaying this moment is the inclusion of multiplayer, but Episode One does not make much use of this. As well as the familiar Half-Life 2: Deathmatch, the game offers a version of Half-Life 1’s deathmatch mode. Like Half-Life: Source, this is a direct port. Unlike its singleplayer sibling, there’s no real historical argument for preserving it untouched. Regrettably, Half-Life Deathmatch: Source feels unpolished, bug ridden and unloved. It’s a testament to how far Valve’s multiplayer offerings have come since 1998, but an embarrassing one. The contribution to Episode One’s longetivity and value is negligible. It’s pleasing that Valve will address this shortfall in Episode Two, with the inclusion of Team Fortress 2.

Valve’s precis for Half-Life 2: Episode One reads “In Half-Life, the G-Man made you. In Half-Life 2, he used you to defeat Dr. Breen and start the Resistance. In Episode One, he’s lost control.” It’s here that the metaphor of the G-Man as the personification of Valve breaks down. The impression the game’s commentary gives is that Valve have succeeded in turning their game design recipe into a precise science. Episode One feels at once bold and ambitious, yet modest in its scope. Unlike their ambassador, Valve themselves remain in complete control.

Related reading:
“Half-Life 2: Episode 1 Critique”, a great piece of video commentary by Mark of GooseGoose Productions.

Some other Half-Life 2: Episode One reviews that I enjoyed reading:

• by Chris Livingston on Concerned Extras.
• by Duncan Fyfe on Idle Thumbs.
• by Chris Remo on Shacknews.
• by Steerpike on Four Fat Chicks.