This Week In Retro: Half-Life 2

November 16, 2004: "Welcome to City 17, it's safer here"

by Diamond Feit 

[Apologies for the lack of audio this week, but my voice is gone. At the very least, here's proof that catching a cold didn't stop me from playing a great video game and sharing my thoughts with you]

I knew it. I knew this day was coming for months, and yet it still caught me off guard. You see, I create a calendar every year to track major anniversaries to help me plan what to cover in this column. I typically wait and see which potential topics speak to me the most when it comes time to actually write each piece, but on this occasion I had little doubt I would spend my week playing, thinking about, and composing over 2000 words about Half-Life 2.

The debut creation of indie studio Valve, Half-Life blindsided me back in 1999 as it astonished me with graphical fidelity the likes of which I had never seen before—due in part to the fact that I had just purchased my first high-end gaming PC. Beyond the polygons, Gordon Freeman's quest to escape from Black Mesa with his life gripped me like no other action game. When its 25th anniversary arrived in November of 2023, I gleefully recounted my memories of experiencing Half-Life as I elucidated how the game impacted me personally and the video game world as a whole.

Half-Life 2, however, passed me by on account of my choice to quit my cushy if soul-crushing job at the post office to return to college and finish my degree in 2004. When the game arrived in November of that year, I simply had to pass up reuniting with Gordon as I was still coming to terms with my very first semester as a full-time student in a decade. I had enough access to the internet that I could see the game rack up accolade after accolade, but I made the mature decision to focus on homework and getting my life in order. 

With its 20th anniversary bearing down upon me, I honestly believed I'd find time to give Half-Life 2 an earnest try well in advance, since I knew that this would offer me the perfect excuse to finally snatch this legendary game from my pile of shame. My perpetual penchant for procrastination prevented this from happening, but I think my bad habits tossed me a blessing in disguise. The best time to first experience Half-Life 2 might have been two decades ago, but the second best time is right here and right now.

In my previous column outlining how hard I fell for Half-Life, I neglected to explain the original game's cryptic ending. Once Gordon Freeman successfully destroys the alien aggressors on their home turf, he gets a surprise one-on-one meeting with a mysterious individual who fails to introduce himself. This slightly-sinister fellow, identified as The G-Man in the game's code, congratulates the player on a job well done and offers Gordon a new position with his own unseen "employers." Players get to choose to accept or decline this new job; refusing suggests the alien forces overwhelm Gordon and the Earth, but taking The G-Man at his word feels less like a happy ending than it does a postponement of consequences.

The moment players press start in Half-Life 2, The G-Man greets them with another speech. Whereas last time The G-Man and Gordon met face-to-face, this opening takes place outside of reality, possibly inside Gordon's mind. The G-Man remains enigmatic, never explicitly stating his motivations, instead imparting vague encouragement to Gordon such as "rise and shine" and "The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world." As he fades out, a train car fades into view and Gordon arrives in City 17 as the credits roll.

Half-Life 1 famously forced players to remain on a tram and watch as the game introduced Black Mesa via a scripted sequence of events. This time, players can exit the train almost immediately after taking control of Gordon, but Half-Life 2 still expertly uses these initial minutes of the game to communicate that the events of Half-Life 1 left lasting impressions on the Earth. As players, we don't know how much time has passed between the two narratives, but we can see at a glance that any battles that might have occurred ended years ago—and humanity didn't win.

Gordon disembarks in a large austere train station, one tightly controlled by masked security guards. Every civilian in the station wanders around with a defeated look on their face while wearing a bland jumpsuit; those who do elect to speak to Gordon utter paranoid warnings ("Don't drink the water!") or idle frustration ("They can't get away with this much longer").

Topping off this Orwellian sundae, large monitors broadcast pre-recorded greetings to all persons from a friendly fellow named Dr. Breen. No matter where Gordon goes inside the station or even outside on the streets, Dr. Breen's voice echoes into every corner, welcoming new arrivals and describing City 17 as "one of our finest remaining urban centers." Dr. Breen presents himself as a caring father figure yet his words only accentuate the squalid conditions on display; the surroundings in turn imbrue his every word with an air of condescension. In seconds, players understand that the only person happy to live in City 17 is Dr. Breen himself. 

Compared to Half-Life's drip-feed of information and gradual introduction of more hazards after a quiet opening, Half-Life 2 hits the ground running. Before Gordon can even find the station's exit, his old pal Barney from Black Mesa passes him vital intel on how to rendezvous with the city's resistance movement. Barney makes sure Gordon gets out into the plaza but the streets are no less oppressive; hovering drones photograph everyone pedestrian and it doesn't take long for Civil Protection to notice Gordon's unauthorized presence.

Even though players have no map, no weapons, and no inventory of any kind at this stage, Half-Life 2 carefully shuttles them into a chase sequence through multiple buildings and even across rooftops. In-world obstacles and encircling police forces work together to guide players along an invisible path to reach the resistance safely. Gordon gets a brief respite with some friendly faces before another emergency has him scampering into old canals to slip through the authorities' grasp.

By this point Gordon's allies have reacquainted players with the initial equipment they came to know in the previous game: A state-of-the-art Hazardous Environment Suit and a humble crowbar. The former offers basic protection and limited illumination while the latter finally lets Gordon smash open crates or anyone who gets in his face. Now armed, players no longer need to flee every encounter and can actually take down the cops and automatons trying to kill them. Yet even after restoring Gordon's offensive agency, Half-Life 2 continues to use enemy placement as an extension of basic level design to keep players moving in the right direction. Seldom do I miss the lack of any in-game navigation when gunmen keep drawing my attention towards the next doorway.

Outside of firearms, Half-Life 2 is packed with objects big and small for players to fiddle with. The first game had its share of quirky interactive elements—I always delighted in slapping random buttons in Black Mesa and exploding someone's lunch in the microwave—but for the sequel Valve created a genuine physics-driven playground. Inside the train station, a surly cop deliberately knocks an empty can onto the ground in front of Gordon and orders him to pick it up. Players can choose to dutifully toss the can into the trash or throw it in the cop's face; either option unlocks an achievement and in the process teaches them how to manipulate environmental items.

Beyond offering the simple amusement factor of stacking barrels or unplugging TV sets, Half-Life 2 puts its robust physics engine to practical use in the form of the Gravity Gun. Once Gordon gets his hands on this portable dynamo, every random background object becomes a potential projectile. Better still, Gordon can grab things at a distance just as easily as he can repel them. After hours of shooting down pesky flying sentries sent by Civil Protection, players suddenly gain the means to put them to good use by yeeting them back at the cops.

I know plenty of video game sequels gain critical favor by iterating on previous releases and refining gameplay elements, but Half-Life 2 goes above and beyond in this department and its reputation reflects that. A 2004 review in the New York Times described it as "an entirely new game, or even several new games" and declared "Do not finish reading this review, just run out and get it right now." In 2013, IGN ranked Half-Life 2 third in a list of the 100 best first-person shooters ever made—right behind DOOM and the original Half-Life. A 2009 issue of Game Informer magazine named Half-Life 2 as the fifth best video game of all time, placing it just above DOOM.

Even amongst non-PC gamers, there's a very good chance that anyone reading this column has at least tried Half-Life 2 on other platforms, especially with the 2007 console release of The Orange Box which packaged the highly-acclaimed title with its own expansions plus Team Fortress 2 and Portal. I remember buying this package in 2008—my first-ever purchase on Valve's now-worldwide Steam service—despite owning an underpowered laptop with a generic graphics card. I got Portal working by turning down all the settings but my poor PC couldn't handle a fast-paced action game where reaction time and proper lighting meant the difference between success or failure. Had I made it as far as the Gravity Gun, I bet the CPU would have melted.

Finally sitting down to play Half-Life 2 20 years after its launch and 16 years after I bought my copy, there's little praise I can offer beyond the two decades of acclaim already on record. Just like the first Half-Life continues to influence game design to this day, I can see bits and pieces of so many other titles I've played inside of Half-Life 2. I remember the glee I felt when I first acquired the Telekinesis plasmid in BioShock; turns out that's just an organic take on Gordon's Gravity Gun. Even then, BioShock never let me pick up saw blades and hurl them like shuriken.

Yet as impressed as I feel having at long last given Half-Life 2 the attention it deserves, I'm even more struck by its timeless message of anti-facism. Valve front-loaded the game with oppressive imagery taken from both science-fiction and real-life to ensure players get the message that, despite his demeanor, Dr. Breen represents the enemies of humanity. The final line of his automated greeting to new arrivals, "It's safer here," echoes a century of authoritarian language promising to protect citizens from vague external threats.

Everywhere Gordon goes in City 17, he sees hard-line tactics and physical violence used against ordinary people. Masked cops seize luggage from his fellow train passengers. A voice from behind a heavy-iron door insists that he carries valid paperwork just before his interrogator slides the peephole closed. Barney reveals himself to Gordon as working undercover with Civil Protection but admits he's "way behind on his beating quota."

Bringing it back to the top, I knew months ago that I would absolutely play Half-Life 2 at some point in 2024. What I didn't expect was my first real session to follow in the wake of a disastrous election in the United States, one where the apparent victors campaigned on a platform of hatred, fear, and lies. At this point I have no idea what the future of America looks like; it remains to be seen whether the incoming administration will actually deliver on promises of "mass deportations" or if they will be content to loot the national treasury to line their own pockets. All I know for sure is that the next time I visit Grand Central Station, if I see Eric Adams' giant visage telling me that Manhattan is "safer" now, I'm grabbing the nearest crowbar.

Writer/podcaster/performer Diamond Feit lives in Osaka, Japan but xer work and opinions exist across the internet.