Haze
Set in the not-too-far-off
year of 2023, the first-person shooter Haze features an introspective
soldier with the wholesome, church-going name of Shane Carpenter. While his
squadmates, the Mantel Troopers, chug a performance-enhancing drug called
Nectar and exchange bits of leatherneck wisdom like "If two guys are dying on
the battlefield, but you can only save one, save the guy with the bigger gun,"
Shane shows off his bleeding heart by empathetically listening to the final
words of a dying pilot.
About an hour or so into
the game—minor spoiler ahead—Shane defects from his squad of
sociopaths and takes up with the opposing Rebels, who come straight from
central casting: They wear aviator sunglasses and bandanas, and speak with
thick Spanish accents. Stripped of your armor and weaned off Nectar, your only
advantage on the battlefield as a Rebel is to—brace yourself—play
dead. Shoot your way through various clichéd indoor/outdoor environs,
commandeer a vehicle or two, and do some of the requisite fussing over which
weapons to keep and which to toss, and around 10 hours later, you'll watch the
credits roll.
Beyond the game: Haze features a fairly
sophisticated subtext, at least by videogame standards. It's a meditation on
war, politics, propaganda, and even steroid culture. Pondering the various
meanings of the game's title is, at times, more interesting than the game
itself.
Worth playing for: Playing as a Rebel
provides one of the game's more gratifying moments. Create a Nectar grenade,
then lob it into a nest of Mantel Troopers. Any Troopers caught in the ensuing
cloud of gas will turn on their own kind. Pull up a chair and let the rogue
soldiers do the dirty work for you.
Frustration sets in when: The game resorts to the
old FPS crutch known as Press This Button To Open The Door To Advance Further
Into The Level. That design strategy has been out of fashion since the bygone
days of DOOM.
Final judgment: More narratively cohesive
than the Halo
trilogy, but less inventive and compelling than Resistance: Fall Of Man, Haze does finally give us a
self-aware portrait of videogame soldiers, and a foil for all the head-butting,
"boo-yah" behavior that's been the norm for far too long in the medium. Too bad
it's paired with one of the more pedestrian FPS games to come along in recent
years.