"…And Protect Your SOLDIER Honor" Part One
Since their inception, video games have been vying to become a legitimate storytelling medium. From Pac-Man’s simple tale of ghost-busting bravado to Dragon Quest’s Japanese spin on D&D swords ‘n’ sorcery, even early games attempted to provide players with compelling plots to back up their sometimes nonsensical gameplay. But if one were to plot out the pivotal points in gaming’s evolution as a storytelling medium, while Pac-Man and Dragon Quest would certainly snag invitations to the show, Final Fantasy VII would likely receive top honors. Regardless of its inferiority to Final Fantasy VI, FFVII introduced to players a fantastically beautiful, movie-esque world that (at the time) existed in a class of its own. Most importantly, FFVII is the game that set many developers on their quest to make gamers cry. Aerith’s death at the hands of the manically insane Sephiroth sent legions of gamers searching for a way to revive their favorite pink-clad flower peddler, but none succeeded. It seems fitting, then, that FFVII’s prequel, Crisis Core, is one of the best examples of character death in video games yet.
When Aerith blocked Sephiroth’s 12-foot long katana using only her midsection, gamers were shocked. This character who, in all likelihood, they had recently taken on a “date,” couldn’t die. It was madness. Crisis Core turns this idea on its head; anyone who’s played Final Fantasy VII (released in 1997) already knows Zack Faire is going to die. It’s been in the books so long, it has three or four special editions. So, if shock isn’t the catalyst for sadness here, then what is? Simple: Square Enix puts you, the player, in the shoes of this cheerful, exuberant, idealistic character — infusing you with his dreams and goals — for 20 hours. Then, after you’ve become comfortable in Zack’s shoes, they brutally snuff out his light; bullet-ridden and soaked in blood, Zack — a hero in the truest sense — dies. You steered him down this road, knowing it was a march to his untimely death, and secretly, you probably hoped he’d find a convenient trap door exit and escape at the last minute, or get carried away by the Turks, or something. But he didn’t, and you can’t help but regret it.
This concept of regret gives rise to Square Enix’s most brilliant decision in regard to Zack’s death: you play his final battle. After controlling his every step for so long, it’s only fitting. Faced with thousands of uncaring Shinra troops, guns gleaming in the desert sunlight, Zack chooses to make his stand. “There’s a high price for freedom,” he quips, and then, Buster Sword raised, he charges into battle. As you dodge missiles, avoid machine gun fire, and cleave hundreds of soldiers into thousands of half-soldiers, the DMW, Crisis Core’s central gameplay concept, is going crazy. See, throughout the game, the DMW acted as a back-end while creating the illusion of slot-machine randomness. Every time it landed on multiple matching numbers, Zack would gain a special stat buff, use an earth-shatteringly powerful attack, or even level up. These events, however, were packed with Zack’s personality; each number on the DMW’s wheel is attached to the portrait of a character in the game, and Zack’s emotions play into that. So, for instance, when the DMW grants you triple-Sephiroths, Zack might flash back to a comical scene wherein he tells Sephiroth to go on ahead while he engages a gang of bloodthirsty beasts, only to turn around and find that Sephiroth has already mangled them in the blink of an eye. And while Zack is hacking and slashing desperately to hold off the Reaper, the DMW is “malfunctioning” — Zack’s life is flashing before the player’s eyes. Sights, sounds, voices, events, joy, anger, love — everything is spewing out of Zack’s mind as a mournful reminder of all he’s left undone. At the same time, however, these DMW scenes aren’t overt tear-jerkers; they’re all over the place.
Come back tomorrow for part two of “…And Protect Your SOLDIER Honor,” where I’ll be discussing Square’s subtlety, Zack’s regrets, and why Tidus and Zack probably play on the same Blitzball team in Final Fantasy heaven.
Kombo News Round-up 4/8/08
*Sniff, sniff*
Two very important, er, psuedo-beings passed away today, so you can understand why I’m a little shaken up. First, early this morning, the Internet Express delivered a message from 1up detailing the peaceful death of Games For Windows Magazine. I’ve known GFW since it was a wee Computer Gaming World, and I took great joy in watching it grow and prosper, but GFW lived a good, long life. With any luck, its reincarnation at 1up.com will make us all proud.
But, while GFW had no regrets, Zack Faire of Crisis Core is another story — another story that will be told tomorrow, as I’ve decided to write a piece about Crisis Core’s conclusion. So yeah, look forward to a long, detailed write-up, and bring some tissues.
Anyway, here’s today’s news, as delivered in my soothing voice:
Microsoft Releases Software Update for Xbox 360 HD-DVD Add-on, We Say, “Huh?”
Activison Gets a Slap on the Wrist in Suit Over Wii Guitar Hero’s Mono Sound
So read about the present, mourn the past, and protect your SOLDIER honor!
Game Diary: The "I’m still addicted to Crisis Core" Edition
Crisis Core’s compelling yet mostly-known tale is nearly at an end, and I’m still just as enamored with the game as when I started. In my eyes, this is the mark of a truly great game — it crosses the dividing road between “good” and “amazing,” a road paved with the soulless game cases of many an “almost, but not quite.” In order to cross such an insurmountable divide, a game must pay attention to every little detail — an area in which Crisis Core excels. Whether it’s the initially simplistic materia fusion system or the way Zack plucks an umbrella from a sandy beach to use as a makeshift buster sword, Crisis Core never stops surprising you with imaginative ideas, both large and small. This veritable onslaught of creativity, then, keeps the player chomping at the bit to see what’s next. Truth be told, Crisis Core has brought me closer to understanding the equine mentality than any scientific study — the game revels in carrot-on-a-stick incentives, and I gleefully gallop in its wake.
It’s not perfect, however; nits run rampant, and I aim to pick them. Nit number one requires tweezers, as it’s smaller than its brethren — an outcast of sorts, with nary a glowing red nose to be found. At one point in the later stages of the game, Zack is essentially asked whether he prefers the Turks’ petite brunette, Cissnei, or everyone’s favorite soon-to-be martyr, Aerith*. Now, regardless of who you choose, Zack’s only going to have eyes for Aerith, but what if that minute choice impacted the game’s storyline? What if, in a game like Crisis Core — a prequel with a plot that’s already been elaborated upon numerous times — you could completely alter the story? Really, it’s perfect for Crisis Core; Zack (SPOILER) dies at the end of the game, and thus, peoples’ perceptions of him are all that remain in the Final Fantasy VII universe. Maybe he wasn’t as close to Aerith as people think. Crisis Core and prequels of its ilk tend to serve as fanservice with a side of plot development. Why not elevate such prequels to a new level — one that really makes players reconsider things they once understood to be fact in their favorite video game worlds?
The second nit is definitely larger, featuring the nit’s characteristic — well, what do nits look like? Anyway, after Zack, Tseng, and Cloud’s helicopter is hit by an off-screen missile, they crash in a permafrost, snow lightly falling around them. After shrugging off what should’ve been lethal wounds, Zack and co. happen upon a fortuitously-placed enemy fort. Bearing in mind that he is, at this point, a demi-god of sorts, and can fell normal soldiers with a glance from his mako-enfused eyes (that sadly, don’t fire lasers), Zack does the sensible thing and engages in Solid Snake style enemy-avoidance tactics. Wait, what? Yep, Square Enix decided to add Crisis Core to the ranks of clandestine greats like The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker and, actually, Final Fantasy VII. Their excuse: enemy soldiers are collecting items from chests scattered around their own base, but only if they catch you. So, every time a soldier — one who’s significantly weaker than Zack — catches up with our hero, Zack is unceremoniously hurled out of the fort and pursued by three enemies. After blinking, Zack is then able to re-enter the fort and try again, but with the disheartening realization that a chest is gone! Why can’t Zack just beat up the guys who stole their own stuff? Who knows? But here’s the best part: after getting caught for the umpteenbajillionth time, Zack is able to continue because all of the soldiers are rotting in the ground. So, what happened to the sticky-fingered soldiers who partook of the chests? Dead, I’m guessing. Why can’t Zack steal the stuff from them now? Too GTA for his tastes? Developers: random stealth is bad stealth. It doesn’t divy up gameplay sections; it just pisses me, and legions of like-minded individuals, off.
The final nit resembles a small mammal more than it does a nit; it’s not a problem Crisis Core possesses so much as it is an idea. Crisis Core has an engaging battle system that incorporates action elements while retaining the core of an RPG. More so than other such action-RPGs, however, Crisis Core creates an illusion of true action — far removed from the watered-down, overtly turn-based battles that are so prominent in the sub-genre. Meanwhile, in lands mysterious and unknown to Crisis Core, MMORPGs are struggling to move beyond turn-based battle systems while maintaining some semblance of fun. A few have succeeded, but they sold their swords and sorcery to the devil in exchange for decent battle systems; games like Auto Assault don’t even utilize humanoid characters at all. At this point, I imagine you can see where I’m going; let’s relentlessly petition Square Enix to create an MMORPG based around Crisis Core’s battle system. Can you imagine it? You’re running through an open field, dodging and rolling while hacking away at a large monster with a sword the size of a larger monster. Don’t get ahead of yourself, though; this isn’t Monster Hunter. With a roll of the DMW (Crisis Core’s back-end that, well, it’s a slot machine), you have temporary infinite MP — Hell Thundaga, go! And PVP would still work because everyone would have access to the DMV. And if Square were to slap the Final Fantasy VII name on this little slice of brilliance, it’d be sure to succeed — even amongst Japan’s MMO-less heathens.
Vahn16 was about to craft an excellent conclusion to this rambling post, but he was accosted by a number of ants and dragged under the nearest refrigerator. He didn’t fight back because he was positive they were nits, and, therefore, harmless.
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*At another point, Kunsel asks Zack why he looks so down. Zack can respond in one of two ways: “I’m gonna be away from Aerith for a long time” or “…I love you, man!” I like the Aerith vs. Cissnei example better, though, for obvious reasons. Plus, I’m sure fan fiction writers have already taken care of Zack and Kunsel’s budding romance.
Core in Crisis: Parts One + Two: The Complete Saga
My vision was blurry as I peered around my dimly-lit room. So far as I could tell, the morning still lingered — perched, however, on the cusp of afternoon. Drowsily, I flopped over in my bed, half-sleep finally giving way to my usual eagle-like awareness. And that’s when I saw it: my PSP, with a copy of Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII in its disc bay and a smug air of satisfaction all about. “What have I done?” flashed through my mind as a horrified image of my face appeared in the reflection on the PSP’s blank screen. “Patapon will never forgive me, and oh, what will Final Fantasy XII and Tactics think?!”
Utterly distraught, I fled from the room into the only haven nearby, the men’s bathroom. Moments later, I found myself gazing into the bathroom mirror, wondering how this all went down.
Things began innocently enough; my roommate was hanging with Patapon for the day, so I decided to head over to Gamestop, with the intention of chatting with the guys (read: store clerks) and maybe downing a few demos. Nothing incendiary or self-destructive. As I strode through Gamestop’s transparent door, though, my plans experienced a mid-season rewrite. Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII was the life of the party, displaying itself prominently all over the store. Nope, not a hint of modesty there. Without even noticing, I began to ponder my options.
I wondered if Patapon was really the game for me, whether it could really make me happy. Sure, it’s a great game and all, but what about my needs? I’ve always been a role-playing game guy at heart, and Patapon only provides the bare minimum of role-playing elements and zero overwrought drama. My life was in need of a shake-up, and Crisis Core was a seismic movement worthy of an excited write-up in a Japanese newspaper.
My rash actions did not go un-rewarded.
Crisis Core and I spent hours together, late into the darkest depths of the night. It taught me so much: how an RPG can be designed with a portable system in mind; how action-RPGs can be more enjoyable than traditional RPGs; and even why many Final Fantasy fans love Midgar and its ridiculously attractive denizens so very much.
Crisis Core is, of course, a spin-off of Final Fantasy VII. Last time we heard such words thrown (carelessly) together into a sentence, we got this, so you can see why I’d be a little wary of venturing into FFVII territory. Also, it doesn’t help that the original FFVII is as massively overrated as Cloud’s sword is, well, massive. But somehow, Crisis Core manages to do things right, most noticeably thanks to its main character, Zack.
Zack is the anti-Cloud; he’s loud, brash, exuberant, and a little dense. So basically, he’s a really fun character — a trait that Cloud tried his best to stifle, not just in himself, but in FFVII’s entirety. However, in Crisis Core, Zack’s bull-headed determination to become a hero lends the game a light-hearted tone that still knows when to recede in favor of more serious fare. Ultimately, the plot is well balanced, which is more than can be said for FFVII. Equally interesting, Crisis Core paints a near-human picture of series baddie Sephiroth. In fact, the game centers around his “only real friends” and had me empathizing with him in a way I never thought possible. It’s funny to think he had a life before becoming a once-thought-dead-but-really-just-a-psychopath, but Crisis Core will clear up any misconceptions you might’ve had.
While Midgar’s vibrant characters and somewhat dystopic setting are certainly impressive, Crisis Core’s mission structure is the real draw. See, generally, when an RPG is released on a portable system, it apes the structure of a console RPG dungeon for dungeon — which is to say, it’s not conducive to a portable experience. Say you’re spelunking one such dungeon while taking the bus to work. It’s been about half-an-hour since you were last embraced by the warm glow of a save point and you’re getting a little antsy. Now you can see your workplace approaching, growing from a tiny spec on the horizon into an actual building. You become frantic. If you don’t save, you’ll have wasted the past 30 minutes and you’ll have to solve that annoying puzzle all over again. But then it’s too late; the bus screeches to a halt and you stumble to your knees in defeat, ruining your good pants in the process.
In Crisis Core, this isn’t a problem. Save points are placed liberally throughout the game world; and, even better, they allow you to access hundreds of bit-sized missions anytime you want. Each 3-5 minute mission tasks you with fighting some enemies and rewards you generously. So yes, they’re totally worth your time, bus ride or no. But even in the cases of the game’s larger story-based missions, you won’t feel bogged-down in pointless drudgery. With many typical RPGs, dungeons feel like bridges between story events — bridges that take hours to cross. Take a few steps, random battle, push some blocks, repeat — only a few exemplary games rise above this generic structure. Crisis Core cuts away the fat, leaving you with larger missions that don’t indulge in an eternity’s worth of tedium. They focus on combat, while seamlessly integrating the game’s enthralling plot into every figurative orifice imaginable.
And that’s what takes the game still another cut above most other RPGs: its tight, yet tasteful usage of storyline. It’s no exaggeration to say that story pervades Crisis Core. For one thing, the game utilizes a sort of text-messaging system (Square Enix has to keep up with Japanese trends somehow) that feeds you tiny bits of information which serve to flesh out the game’s world. It’s a fairly organic system along the lines of Mass Effect’s planet descriptions or Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion’s books — it gives the player the option of delving into the depths of the game world in a way that cut-scenes can’t.
That’s not to say that cut-scenes get the shaft or anything — far from it. They’re everywhere. As with many other aspects of the game, however, they’re short and quite compelling. During larger missions, cut-scenes break up the action and provide the player with an incentive to keep playing. In that respect, the game creates a sort of carrot-on-a-stick mentality in the player that’ll see many a PSPs’ batteries dying before their players’ drive to continue bites the big one.
These cut-scenes serve another purpose as well; they pull your attention away from the game’s solitary nature. As I mentioned earlier, Crisis Core casts you as Zack, and only Zack. You don’t have a party, and as such, similarities can be drawn between Crisis Core and single-player hack ‘n’ slash dungeon crawlers. In a hack ‘n’ slash, about all you have to keep you company are the ominous roars of vicious monsters, as well as the monsters themselves, and it gets a little lonely. Crisis Core never allows solitude to dishearten you, as cut-scenes, which tend to involve other characters, abound. Even while in battle, Zack has flash-backs to his encounters with other characters, which also activate special Limit Break abilities. It’s a masterful little one-two punch that shows how carefully Square Enix designed the game.
Really, I can’t recommend this game enough. If you own a PSP, buy it. If you don’t own a PSP, I hear kidneys are going for a nice sum right now, so there’s always that option. Alternatively, you could just wait for the inevitable PS2 port of the game, but Crisis Core is one of the few high-profile PSP games that wasn’t designed as a tiny PS2 game. Also, waiting sucks.
(Note: Objects in the pictures may look prettier than the Crisis Core appears. The game’s still pretty though.)
