I’m venturing into new waters with this piece, shifting from my usual Bible-centered reflections to try my hand at TV critique. I don’t watch television often—life’s too full for that—so when I do, I’m hoping for something truly standout. Recently, I tuned into the Halo series on Netflix UK, and it left me with thoughts worth sharing. With a lifelong passion for science fiction and fond memories of playing the original Halo game on Xbox (though I never bothered with the sequels), this adaptation gave me plenty to chew on—both as a story and as a spark for bigger questions.

Set in the 26th century, Halo follows Master Chief John-117 as he leads humanity against the Covenant, a zealous alliance of alien races bent on our destruction—a premise that echoes the game’s core of a lone, armored hero standing tall. I’ve always been drawn to that idea, and it tugged at me as I watched. But while the concept hooked me, the show itself landed in a middling spot—not exceptional, yet not entirely skippable either, just hovering at “okay.” As I watched, I kept telling myself I’d give the next episode another try—one more chance to grab me—but it never quite did. I pressed on to the end, though it didn’t leave me itching to dive into more.
Visually, it’s a treat. The sleek ships, alien landscapes, and bursts of action deliver the polish you’d expect from a big-budget sci-fi effort. One standout for me was Cortana, Master Chief’s AI sidekick, whose sharp wit and surprising humanity won me over. In a genre where artificial intelligence often swings between savior or doom, she’s a refreshing take—showing the wonder of human creation without tipping too far. I found myself mulling over what we craft and its limits, even if the show doesn’t chase those threads far.
Where Halo stumbles, though, is in its pacing and depth. It drags at times, bogged down by a subplot that feels tacked on rather than essential, and I kept waiting for the tension to ramp up—only it never quite did. I couldn’t help comparing it to Disney’s The Mandalorian, another tale of a helmeted loner in a rough galaxy; while they share some DNA, Halo’s action lacks the same tight, thrilling pull. I also missed the Flood, those nightmarish parasites from the game, whose absence left the stakes feeling lower than they could’ve been.
Another character who caught my eye was Dr. Catherine Halsey. She’s complex—a woman who’ll use any means to achieve her goals, which might be noble in intent but get murky in practice. That tension between good aims and flawed paths intrigued me, reflecting how often life blurs those lines.
On content, Halo keeps it gritty but not over-the-top. There’s mild swearing and violence—fitting for a war-torn setting, though worth noting if you prefer gentler fare. It didn’t bother me much, but it’s not exactly cozy viewing either.
Master Chief himself offers the richest ground for reflection. Unmasked more than in the game I loved, he’s given a raw edge through Pablo Schreiber’s quiet, steady performance—a soldier hinting at something deeper, shifting from weapon to protector. It’s a thread I wanted more of, though the show stops short of diving in fully, leaving his arc dangling just out of reach.
So where does that leave Halo? It’s a mixed bag—a slick sci-fi romp that flirts with big ideas but doesn’t commit, fine for genre fans if you temper your hopes. For me, it didn’t hit the “really good” mark I crave when I carve out TV time, despite my nostalgia for the original game. Still, it sparked some pondering—about creation, rescue, and the stories we tell—and that’s worth something. I don’t wander into this space often, but maybe I’ll make it a habit, posting on Saturdays about TV or movies in this style. What do you think? Drop a comment—I’d love to hear if this detour resonates with you!
- Counting the Cost of Comfort (Matthew 8:19-20)
- A Determined Desire: Choosing a Life of Integrity (Psalm 101:2)
- A Heart Captivated: The Foundation of a Godly Life (Psalm 101:1)
- The Richness Within: Christ, Chorus and Christian Community (Colossians 3:16)
- The Sovereign’s Vow (Introduction to Psalm 101)