Halo 4 does just about everything a franchise property should. It's big and loud, brash and bold; tosses soup bones in the service of fans; refashions the old, performs some new tricks; kicks-off a second trilogy of games in style; and features a naked blue woman who's actually a computer program that has a weird relationship with the protagonist, Master Chief.
As slick as the single-player experience is, cracks begin to appear almost immediately and I started feeling more like a pecking barnyard animal -- you know, those 7-foot tall, armour-plated ones -- tasked with running an uncomplicated maze and hitting a button. Or three buttons.
