
That's good isn't it? On paper it is, though quite a bit less good than the £65 million that GTA V made on its first day, back in 2013.
However, while the number of copies of Halo 5 sold hasn't yet been revealed, we do know that GTA V shifted 1.75 million units on the PS3 and Xbox 360 in its first day on sale.
Given that it made a fair bit less, and is an Xbox One exclusive, it's fair to say that however many copies of Halo 5 were sold, it wasn't as much as 1.75 million.
Especially when you consider that there were 716,741 games sold in total last week, according to Chart-Track. Not all of those were Halo 5, obviously.
Though it's unclear exactly how many people saw Spectre last weekend, it opened on 2,500 screens in the UK, and broke box office records, with the most successful opening week in UK history. Yet the games industry seems to think Halo 5's first day takings is some measure of victory over old media.
The average cost of a UK cinema ticket is about £7. Halo 5 is currently £39.57 on Amazon. Isn't it about time that we stopped pretending that video games are more popular than... y'know... everything ever?
There's no doubt that Halo 5 has sold well... for a video game.
It made 50% more than the previous week's multiformat Assassin's Creed Syndicate, and debuted at number one in the all-formats chart. But of course the big games stand to make more money: they can cost up to ten times as much as a cinema ticket. If I sold one bag of crisps for £10 million, it would be a chronic distortion of the facts to start crowing about how "Crisps sales make more money than the new James Bond movie!".
I've always felt games were too expensive - right back to when I had to beg my parents to give me an advance on my pocket money so I could buy Underwurlde for the ZX Spectum - but it's a conversation that the games industry has always seemed reluctant to have.
Admittedly, in real terms, games are cheaper now than they used to be. With Halo 5 getting discounted to under forty quid, it still costs the same as some of the bigger Mega Drive and Super NES games did back in the day. That's a good thing - and certainly makes fools out of everyone who conspired to defend the price of games back in the 90s and noughties (particularly against former Digitiser columnist Stuart Campbell's well-intentioned Fairplay campaign).
However, the games industry is still locked into the same cycle of fear: instead of selling games more cheaply, which might invite more people to play them (and thus, recoup development costs that way - according to some reports, Halo 5 cost $250 million; $50 million more than Spectre's budget), they continue pricing them out of the pockets of most people.
Again: Halo 5 made £7.7 million in its first day of sale, because of how much it costs to buy - not because more people bought it than went to see Spectre. If this is a victory, it's a hollow one. Let's call it The Lance Armstrong Effect.

As I've said recently, gaming does virtually nothing to invite more people to the party. Everything about games seems to conspire to speak to established audiences, and nobody is having a conversation about growing the market.
Though why would they when they can make money by selling games at £40 - £60?
But there are new audiences out there, and the more people that play games, the more diverse the audience gets, the better it's going to be for all of us who are already here.
Think of everyone you know: your parents, siblings, friends... How many of them play on consoles regularly? How many of them would spend £50 on a game? Most people I know wouldn't dream of it. Most of them don't even have a clue what a Halo is. Games are still out of reach for most, in terms of content as much as cost.
And before you say anything... I know there are lots of cheaper, more accessible, games out there, but they're hidden away on Steam, or the PlayStation and Xbox stores, which are anything but welcoming to those who are less tech-savvy.
GENERALISING MASSIVELY
Yet everyone - he says, generalising massively - plays games nowadays. Admittedly, the types of games most people play are free to download from mobile app stores, the modern equivalent of puzzle magazines. Nevertheless, while society understands the language of games now, it still seems to shunt them into a ghetto. Gamers continue to be "weird loners" in the eyes of the media.
There are plenty of people who already play games who don't want newcomers trampling all over their flower beds. We all know who they are, and they'll aggressively discourage anyone new, or different, or implicitly threatening to come along. And that's yet another barrier, along with uninviting advertising, the narrow focus on game genres, and price.
Who wants to go to a party at which you assume everyone is going to be sweating in a corner, hacking away on a laptop, talking in acronyms, and hate speak?
What's more, consoles are unwelcoming black slabs of off-putting technology, playing host to games which further fetishise technology. You're kidding yourself if you think Master Chief - a faceless, robot-looking man - is as popular, or familiar, among the general public as James Bond. Master Chief is only an icon among the already converted.
That's a huge barrier, but the price of big games is the single biggest, razorwire-topped wall in the way of games from becoming the default entertainment medium of the 21st century.
FLOWER BEDS
The more of these barriers that can be dismantled, the better things are going to get. You're not going to stop idiots being idiots, but you might be able to convince a few more people that we're not all idiots, and that they can learn to love something new, if you reduce the price.
We can only be convinced to try something new, if that something looks easy. It's a chicken and egg thing, and I get the fear: you don't know if lowering the price of games is too big a risk. But it will mean more games get sold, and for that to happen games need to be priced along the same lines as other entertainment products; movies, TV shows, music, books...
Perhaps then the headlines about games sales will actually mean something, rather than feel like a proud five year-old artist holding up a terrible scrawl for her mother's approval.
"That's lovely dear," says the mother. "What's it meant to be?"
"Master Chief."
"That's brilliant, dear. I love Masterchef."