Halo: Reach (Campaign)

Death of a Planet: But where was the emotion?

WARNING: HERE THERE BE SPOILERS!

One of the main reasons for the success of Bungie's multi-million dollar Halo franchise was strong story telling. The main trilogy saw SPARTAN II supersoldier Master Chief discover ominous ringworlds, unlock ancient secrets and fight against some of the oldest and most powerful enemies the galaxy has ever faced. Over the space of three games, we controlled the Chief and fought our way across space itself, aided by a host of characters; many of whom we came to love, most of which we lost along the way.

Indeed, by the time we lost Sergeant Johnson in Halo 3, I don't think there was one true fan of the franchise that could face anymore loss - even though it was just a video game filled with fictional characters, we had invested in them. Over nearly a decade, we had come to care about the characters of Halo. Even Halo 3: ODST invested time in storytelling - everything felt like a desperate bid to escape and learn at the same time. It was different; a human perspective adding a new fear to an old war. It wasn't brilliant, but there was time invested in the characters. It worked. This is where the campaign of Halo: Reach was doomed to fail.

Aside from breaching long-established canon, Reach tried to do the impossible: make us invest in a small group of characters over a series of ten levels, set over the period of a month. It was never going to happen. Worse, perhaps, is the fact that the one character who showed any signs of being truly interesting (Jorge) was killed off first in possibly the most ridiculous chain of events plausible. Quite aside from the whole "Jargon Jargon is fried, I'm gonna have to fire her manually" cliche hitting the gamer like a carp to the face, there is no logical reason that Jorge would have to stay behind to fire it. Let me explain:

Jorge, a SPARTAN II, was more expensive, better equipped and more extensively combat-experienced than Noble Six, an expendable SPARTAN III. Logic dictates that Six would be the one to remain behind, but of course gameplay reasons make this impossible. I digress.

So other than poor Jorge, the hero who proved that the pen really is mightier than the sword upon falling victim to cliche story telling, there was no emotional investment in any of the characters. Why? They were all stereotypes; one dimensional stereotypes designed to be killed off. From the first mission, there was little conversation between the characters that revealed any extra dimension to them. It was all objective based, which is all good when you're trying to direct a player towards the mission goal, but not when the aim of the story is to invest players in a group of characters. None of the death's were hard-hitting, except perhaps Kat's, and even that was more of a "Woah, where the...oh, you sneaky elite!" than anything. I didn't care about her.

Perhaps half of the issue is that the game tried to invest you over so few levels, set over such a long time - it felt like the story was spread too thin. Reach was simply too rushed, too one-dimensional and too cliche to care about.

Dog Soldiers (Review)

DOG SOLDIERS (2002, NEIL MARSHALL)

Silouhette of the Beast: A monster lurks in the highland mist.

The most terrifyingly brilliant horror films are those that deliver fear not from what you can see, but rather from what you cannot. This is what makes some human beings scared of the dark; the inability to see what lies within it. The vulnerability associated with the unknown. It is a primeval fear, and one that director Neil Marshall is quick to capture in his 2002 film, Dog Soldiers.

Perhaps more terrifying is the manner in which Marshall is able to combine the gruesome horror with brilliantly witty dialogue and manage to avoid creating an uncomfortable break in verisimilitude. Indeed, Dog Soldiers is a triumph of British cinema, and a film that is difficult to discuss in a negative manner. What could have been the biggest cliche, the big, bad army soldiers, has actually become the films biggest strength.

Dog Soldiers follows a group of soldiers, including the fantastic Sean Pertwee and Kevin McKidd, as they embark on a routine training mission in the Scottish highlands. However, things soon go awry when they are confronted by the unwelcome fact that werewolves are all too real, and are stalking them from the treeline. What follows is an action-packed and dramatic series of skirmishes between man and monster as the squad try to survive until sunrise. In a cottage.

But confined spaces are where Marshall's directing truly shines through, as exemplified in his later film, The Descent (2005). The spectator is forced to feel the desperation and claustrophobia that the characters feel; the lack of anywhere to run, the feeling that what should be a haven is slowly becoming a prison. What was once Emmerdale is fast becoming a scene from Saw (2004)! Indeed, the fantastic cinematography by Sam McCurdy has the effect of increasing the tension: the dark, dimly lit cottage is just barely more appealing than the misty, dark silhouette of the outside world. Every shaft of moonlight that slips between the wooden planks nailed to the windows forces home the omnipresence of the moon.

However, it is in this bleak situation that the talented cast truly shines. Each soldier has his or her own developed personality, from the first moment we meet them, we form an opinion of them; they feel like real people whom one might meet down the local pub, or see having a quick game of football on the park. You care for the characters in the cottage, and by the end you feel a genuine sense of emotion and relief! Even the werewolves themselves are developed enough to be given a bit of humanity; although this film isn't too focussed on the morality of killing something that for most of the days in a month still visits the bank and celebrates birthdays like anyone else!

With Dog Soldiers, Marshall has managed to create a credible set of characters and creatures without getting to bogged down in, or becoming to overzealous with the lore of it's own universe. Indeed, the film doesn't bother trying to explain away why werewolves exist; it knows that any explanation will sound either too convoluted or simply dwell too far into the realms of fantasy, such as in Underworld (2003). Instead, Marshall simply gets on with telling the story, and the film is much the better for it. By the end, there are no breaks in the lore, there are no questions left over; just a thrilling conclusion to an unforgettable piece of British cinema.

4:2:2 Rating - 4/5
Dog Soldiers is a brilliant piece of film, and a fantastic example of how to juxtapose reality and fantasy in a credible, accessible way.