Look, maybe this will make me come off as someone who can't take a joke or is taking this too seriously, but people talking about Ben Esposito's writing in Neon White reminded me of this game so I'm just going to say my piece.

I find it absurd that Arcane Kids pride themselves in being this super transgressive, subversive, "fuck you and everyone else" type group, and yet what they come up with here are jokes that Newgrounds cartoons and gamer webcomics have been making since the 2000's. Like, this is the target that needs to finally be taken down a peg, Sonic fans? Why does Bubsy Visits the James Turrell Retrospective feel more understanding of what Bubsy is than this feels understanding of what Sonic is? To be fair, the game does add a layer of surreal-ness and intentional discomfort to these jokes through it's interactivity and presentation, and that does make it a notch above like, Arin Hanson yelling at Big the Cat or whatever. But these jokes are just so immediately tired in my opinion, it's like making a game centered around Chuck Norris. And also, this complaint may sound silly to some, but like I said earlier, I never feel any actual care towards the Sonic series in this game. Bubsy 3D certainly was mean-spirited in a way, but this game just feels spiteful the whole time, and again, not in ways that are all that original.

The Arcane Kids manifesto insists to some extent to not take anything they do that seriously, and their games do feel like they mock the idea of trying to do so. So in that sense, I might be totally in the wrong for making these complaints. Maybe I'm even the exact kind of sucker they're making fun of. But just because a work of art markets itself as transgressive doesn't mean it can't also just be bad. Those t-shirts of Sonic smoking weed and it says "Chronic the Hemphog" on it offer more incisive commentary than this.

It is incredibly ironic that a game where corporate rule leads to a world where "economics has erased justice" was unjustly gutted for Western release by it's own corporate owners who cut the funding due to it not meeting profit expectations in Japan.

This game is a chore to play but that is absolutely the point. You are not heroically fighting for a nation here, you are a corporate hireling doing a cold, clinical job and the austere, alien music and curt gameplay reflects this. Missions are incredibly short and end unceremoniously, the work is repetitive and most assuredly not 'cool' like the later games, enemy aircraft makes few attempts to shoot you down, little of what fills the later games with colour is present here. Again, that is the point.

Particular emphasis is laid onto the physical limitations of the aircraft, to reinforce the theme of mind-body antipathy. You will fight against your own plane as it dips, stalls and moves in ways you don't intend, all to make you sympathise with Rena's desire to be a pure "winged mind".

No other AC game is as successful at driving home the "there are no winners in war" message, which is due to the incredibly smart branching paths. A first playthrough of this game is deliberately set up to leave the player disappointed, as the structure of choices makes the Erich-UPEO or Fiona-Neucom endings the most natural to get the first time around, and those endings are the most lacking in answers about the story. The choice to join Dision or ruthlessly shoot a missile at Fiona behind her back are ones so abruptly presented and transparently insane that only a player on their second playthrough and beyond is likely to make it. As the player makes their way through all the possibilities, it will slowly be made clear to them, in a way much more subtle than the later games' cliches, that there really are no winners here. Fiona, Erich and Keith are all good people, but they are stuck with their alleigances to their lifeless organizations who only wish to use them. Rena, Cynthia and Dision, in comparison, have greater ambitions but are all mentally scarred and misguided in particular ways. The final BGM is accordingly called "Gordian Knot" - Dision seeks to destroy the ugliness of the world but in so doing he recreates it's instrumental logic in his treatment of Rena.

The end reveals will possibly smack of typical meta pretentiousness to some people but the efforts the game makes to hint towards the true nature of the player is itself impressive. Likely the more contentious reveal is that the player is simply a pawn for an incel called Simon, but if you think about this, it also fits into the themes. Simon is the player's bodily limitation, he creates the player - who is the actual "winged mind" of this story - out of a physical animal lust for a woman who did not return his feelings. The player will likely feel in return that they want to be free of being Simon's pawn, but this can never happen, just as the characters in the story cannot escape their bodies. Simon is the Elon Musk of this game - a tech loser who nevertheless owns you. The electrosphere is like a Tesla-branded neurochip. You can escape into the game's fantasy, leave your worldly existence behind, but the truth is that the conditions leading to this already carry the inescapable mark of what you are trying to escape.

Undoubtedly the most artistically ambitious game in the series but hard to give a higher rating for the simple reason that I never want to play it again.

As far as I’m concerned the grand innovation of 1990’s Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon and the Blade of Light is the introduction of mechanics and storytelling concepts typical of JRPGs into the strategy game genre for the purpose of crafting a more intimate ludonarrative. Marriage between gameplay and story, and even the word ludonarrative itself, are kind of played out concepts for games criticism at this point. That being said, the original Fire Emblem stands tall as both a landmark moment in video game history and a remarkable example of the concept even today and, because of that, I think it’s worth discussing. In preparation for this analysis I played the game twice, firstly through its original Famicom release and secondly on the Switch using the 2020 official English localization. I will not be referencing either the Super Famicom or DS remakes of this game, or any other Fire Emblem in this write up. Mild spoilers to follow.

War stories are a common aspect of not just strategy games but games as a whole; and for good reason. The context of a fight to the death is both universally understandable and inherently interesting. In a move clearly inspired by 80’s sci-fi classics like Mobile Suit: Gundam and Legend of the Galactic Heroes, Fire Emblem decides to characterize its combat not through a heavy action focus but through an exploration of the drama, characters, strategy, and resource management associated with large scale conflict. This isn’t to imply that an action focus is somehow “lesser” than what Fire Emblem does, but it was still quite a bold direction for the time.

Those who have played the game may find my mention of “drama” to be curious. As a Famicom game, Fire Emblem’s script is quite small. A cursory search on YouTube shows that all cutscenes in the game including optional village dialogue take less than an hour to watch. In that hour, only the circumstances surrounding a certain late game enemy general can be considered particularly “dramatic.” This, however, is offset by a system that is nothing short of transformative for the game, permadeath. The fact that every single character in your party can die at any given point in the story and that their death has logical mechanical and narrative consequences allows for an absolutely insane level of emergent storytelling for the game. Thanks to Fire Emblem’s focus on encounter variety and level design all of this “emergent storytelling” is also way more complex and interesting than JRPGs of its time. While in the original Dragon Quest one could describe most interactions with “X healed/damaged Y” Fire Emblem provides something richer. “When reinforcements spawned from behind I had to leave Hardin at the fort so he could stall the enemies while Marth raced to the throne, hoping to seize in time before Hardin died.” Instead of relying on narrative expository set pieces to contextualize its battles, Fire Emblem can present you with such a dynamic story entirely through its mechanics AND THEN permadeath ties that scenario right back into the actual narrative. While most characters do not have a very grand effect on the story when they die; thanks to the game's small script every single one affects a more significant part of the story than most games just through their own character endings. And of course the mechanical loss of a character is intrinsically linked to the narrative as we’ve mentioned already. When people speak about a game’s narrative themes being represented in gameplay they often do so through vapid metaphor by saying something like “the necessity of persevering is conveyed through the game rewarding you for pressing on.” Similarly, when developers try to marry their gameplay and narrative often times it is boiled down to a series of transparent binary choices. Fire Emblem did not see fit to articulate itself with such basic design and, as such, cannot be analyzed effectively that way. Even though permadeath is often avoided by series fans through the process of save scumming (and the developers of the original Fire Emblem were keenly aware this would be the case) I implore you to play this game without resetting if you give it a shot. While the process of engineering a so-called “perfect playthrough” can be quite engaging in its own right, the beauty of Fire Emblem is on full display in an “ironman run.”

The intensity lended to every situation by permadeath also does a great deal to characterize the player’s units. While the variety of classes and statistics do a lot of good for making the game's roster feel more diverse, those aforementioned anecdotal play experiences are paramount to characterizing the characters. When speaking about the game. designer Shouzou Kaga said “Yeah, as much as possible, we tried to remove ‘stats’ and numerical data. We tried to make it so that even without relying on stats, players could still get a sense of an enemy being really powerful by how much damage they dealt.” While this ambition to remove stats from a turn based strategy game is on the surface, kind of flawed, the desire to convey characters through their mechanical play experience is something I find to be extremely valuable. If you sit two people down who have played Fire Emblem once, even if they used the same units, they likely have completely different thoughts on how useful they are just by virtue of the dynamic nature of unit growth and combat. The unit growth system is also a very clever design decision in that it allows units to trend toward certain baselines while keeping them varied enough that maps are not linearly solvable in the way traditional puzzle/strategy games are.

Of course in most games the player characters are only half the equation. I suspect that because the characterization of player units is largely determined by the player, Intelligent Systems decided to focus pretty heavily on diversifying enemy behavior. Basic enemies can be stationary, aggressive, wait for you to get within movement range, and even flee to be healed when they’re on low HP. Beyond that about 1/3 of your playable units actually start off as enemies. A cute little detail about this is that because Marth is not an avatar for the player and wouldn’t be aware of which enemies are friendly you often can’t recruit enemies by talking with Marth, instead they have to talk to him of their own accord. Similarly units like Minerva behave irrationally for “enemy” units because of course their disposition as a character is more complex than just being an enemy. This culminates in the iconic 20th chapter of the game “Camus the Sable,” where Fire Emblem spins its most dramatic narrative. The decision to make Camus impossible to recruit is a clear homage to Mobile Suit: Gundam again, but the effectiveness of this trope in adding reality to the world of the original Fire Emblem shouldn’t be understated. Camus is effectively the most complex character in the entire game and you can’t recruit him! The realities of war, where your enemies acknowledge the errors of their way and die for them anyway because of the context of their lives. Good stuff.

Strategy is of course the name of the game with Fire Emblem and even from this first outing most of the mechanics are very well considered. Of particular note to people who may be familiar with the genre is the way Fire Emblem structures its turns to emphasize thinking ahead. In Fire Emblem you have the opportunity to move every player unit once before the enemy gets the opportunity to move all of theirs. The significance of this combined with the relatively predictable AI is that you have to plan to take multiple attacks from the enemy before you are able to respond and don’t have to play as reactive as you would in a game with smaller turns. The game also offers a large amount of incentives for most of its maps that encourage the player to charge ahead and meet the enemy head on to prevent turtling, which would otherwise become a boring and dominant strategy. Every map also requires Marth to seize the throne (well I guess the last one is defeat boss) which is a solid objective when compared to something like routing the enemy as it allows the players to rush the throne with their strong units and warp staff for an early clear or methodically work their way through the map and move their inventory around afterwards if that’s what they’re into. Inventory is honestly quite the drag on this game's pacing. I won’t dwell on it here because it’s not particularly interesting but there’s some convenient tips on how to make it as painless as possible by one of my friends at the bottom of this post.

There are a few other complaints I’ll take the time to make here. Weapon stats and formulas are all contained within the manual but Nintendo of America didn’t actually translate that part of the manual so you’ll have to use sites like Serenes Forest to get weapon stats. Units also make any tile they’re standing on look like a grass tile even when it isn’t one (assumedly because of some sprite limitation) which can be a minor annoyance as terrain is important in this game. Also while most recruitments are pretty transparent as the game makes excellent use of its sparse script in setting up characters and situations, some of them are not very obvious which can lead to very slow trial and error recruitments(Just google it if you don’t know). Marth is also an absurdly strong unit and it seems the AI has a tendency to target him, assumedly because his death can cause a game over, which can lead them to kind of suiciding on him a bit too often.

Yet another stroke of genius in the design of the original Fire Emblem is its limited resource economy. Money balancing is unfortunately way too much in the players favor but the decision to forgo the ability to grind brainlessly to make the game easier, does a lot for the game. Experience is a limited resource in Fire Emblem. It adds a long game of strategy to the experience. At any given time you’re considering trade-offs of options in the short term (surviving the current situation,) mid term (how you outfit your units for the next couple maps,) and long term(which units you plan to take a risk on investing in.) This consideration is almost more reminiscent of classic Resident Evil than it is Dragon Quest. Fire Emblem does actually have a way to grind infinite experience and money though. In maybe one of the games most charming touches, on any map with an arena you can gamble your money on your units ability to win a one on one fight, but if you lose that fight you’re paying with not just your gold but also your life. Some really intense risk reward right there. Good shit.

At the end of the day it’s hard to call Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon and the Blade of Light anything but a classic. While the game has its misses, particularly in regards to quality of life decisions, this game really does showcase a confident core design philosophy that exemplifies many of the strengths of games as a medium. It’s hard to find a turn-based RPG with a tighter mechanical loop than Fire Emblem. Consider giving it a shot if you have the chance.

Thanks for reading y’all. If you have any feedback I’d love to hear it as I plan to expand on this and then turn it into video. (Also forgot to mention but Tsujiyoko and Tanaka made a straight dootin’ ost)

FE1 Inventory management tips https://www.reddit.com/r/fireemblem/comments/ik7j40/how_to_make_the_fe1_inventory_as_painless_as/

Also go read this
http://shaym.in/fe1/lp.html

Now that I’ve had a day to sit on my thoughts of the game I will make an actual non-shitpost review.

This game is a mess. I wasn’t kidding when I said this is the MGS4 of the series. An extremely ambitious, earnest, heartfelt celebration of the series that has extremely high highs but also constantly falls on its face with extremely stupid writing.

The pacing is some of the worst we’ve seen from RGG. For a game that can easily be 100+ hours long it is both too long but also too short in areas. It constantly pulls you away from the main story to do very involved mini game/sub system tutorials but then has no time in the final hours to wrap up most of the story. At least 4 of the main characters this game is about don’t show up in the final cutscene. You just have to be told about what they are doing from a mouth piece so we can wrap shit up. Kiryu is just kinda left in this weird limbo as they don’t explain what the fuck got them to this point with an achievement titles “man who reclaimed his name”. It genuinely feels like there is either an entire chapter or at least a huge segment of one missing from the end. One of the main villains just stops showing up for 10+ hours only to be seen again in a cut away and is completely unrecognizable for at least another few hours. They then try to do the coin locker scene again with them and it feels completely unearned because they haven’t done anything. The two main villains you do fight are extremely forgettable and underwhelming. One is given what you’d imagine to be a super important connection to Ichiban but it never comes up. The two share a single cutscene at the start of the game and that’s it. Why was it even a plot point to begin with then???? So many plot threads just go no where or are left extremely unsatisfying as they hand wave them away so it can’t be viewed as “a plot hole”. I seriously think how they structure their stories needs to change because I don’t think the Yakuza writing formula they’ve had for 2 decades translates to a 100 hour JRPG. Imo the best way to enjoy the main story of these games is when you can just progress the plot freely and not be bogged down by side content or busy work. I usually save that stuff for premium adventure so the story isn’t so “start and stop”. But you can’t do that in these games because of the rpg leveling and just how the story constantly blocks you to do other shit I am currently not interested in. No RGG I don’t give a fuck about your Pokémon clone and it’s 30 minute+ forced tutorial I just want to get on with chapter 4 please.

Most of the cast has nothing to do in this game which would be fine if they didn’t force them to have boring ass drink links you need to do to make them objectively better in gameplay.

The gameplay needs massive changes going forward because Jesus Christ was I sick of the multiple grinds it imposes. The long battles they do in this game are terrible. In previous entries you’d have a long gauntlet where you’d have to fight to a location and they do this here but they constantly make you take the most out of the way route and block off better ones with excuses like “there are dudes over there!” Only to send you down an alley with 7 fights. If 9 does the same formula 8 repeated from 7 I might just drop the series. I do not want to go back to scrounging for money and being locked out of jobs till chapter 5 again. I do not want to have to do massive material grinds for good gear. I do not want to have 80% of the moves you get to be fucking useless because they aren’t an AOE and don’t deal elemental damage.

Highlights of this game is everything they do with Kiryu outside of the final chapter. Life links are overall goated outside of some implications of how no one reacting to Kiryu being alive despite you are only able to see them after Kiryu is broadcasted on national news to be alive.

There is honestly too much to talk about with this game So I’m just gonna end it by saying this: I’ll look back on the good in this game as some of the best but I never want to replay this game ever again. Also this game only makes Gaiden look even dumber and further cements it at as a $50 scam. Yokoyama fucking lied Hanawa is not important and he fucking knew that.

Mark my words that this game while currently being hailed as the best game in the series, that its perfect and other things like that will be looked back on a lot more negatively once the honeymoon phase is over, once hypebeasts move onto the next thing, once people won't freakout if you have anything negative to say about it. It won't be a hot take or "being contrarian" to think that the game is mid, super front loaded and falls apart in the end. It's fine if you do think its perfect and its your favorite game or whatever but the amount of people who lose their shit when you have anything negative to say about this game or gaiden is seriously annoying.

This game also made me get into a car accident so fuck it lol

to disparage 3rd strike is often blasphemy in fighting game circles. for many, this is the ur-fighting game, a dizzying concoction of tight and expressionist mechanics, gorgeous spritework, and a dnb soundtrack that is absolutely fuego. it even has that little fundamental spice that all premier fighting games must aspire to possess: a disregard for balance. most modern titles would never dare nerf a character so significantly purely for thematic purposes, but then again, no modern title would ever think to include characters like twelve or chun-li (edit: this is a patent lie. tekken 7 season 3 had both leroy and fahkumram.)

still, what makes this game fascinating years on has little to do with any of its individual elements. fundamentally, it's the mood. it's a game that feels as though it was made on the verge of something great and unknown, and is one of those rare few titles i'll posit encapsulates a certain je ne sais quois, a snapshot of a particular zeitgeist heading into a new millennium. sure, you can point to the more overt references and stylings - strong WWF influence, character select rap, yang, yun, and q are maybe the most 90s characters ever designed, the illuminati as an antagonistic force and its seemingly benevolent villain - but more importantly, it's a composite of characters who are just wandering, trying to find themselves in some instances or seeking mastery in others. there's no pressing tournament to attend to, and even the machinations of the literal illuminati are vestigial, with its plotting mostly centered around biblical rivalry between tyrants. street fighter 3 was originally just about a new generation - itself neatly characterized as 'of its time' - but 3rd strike flips the script. rather than establishing new legends, this game is about characters unsure about what the future entails, about what their next move should be, about what it even means to continue fighting - they waver, they fail, they practice, they move on. even though these ideas are reflected in little moments (chun-li teaching children to put up their dukes, elena reflecting on her journey and her future with a pen pal, alex losing to ryu but refusing to back down),even just aesthetically this theme is completely overpowering - its what imbues 3rd strike with a kind of melancholic ambience, but also what fuels the players' determination to prove themselves.

even better, to this day, this is still the only street fighter that is aesthetically unique to itself. street fighter 2 features worldly caricatures, alpha often feels like it lacks confidence or that it's missing something, 4 is nostalgic pageantry, and 5 is a slipshod mess of meaningless platitudes with no direction. this is the closest capcom ever got to imbuing their flagship franchise with unique stylings; it's something that actually has character and personality comparable to an SNK title. this, probably more than the joy of hitting a parry, setting up aegis reflectors, or getting in my opponent's head, is probably what keeps me coming back. fight for the future, so what's it gonna be, the third strike y'all it's street fighter 3

cannot say i am particularly enamored with the idea that we should frame this discussion in any way that pretends it is not ultimately a willful net loss for games preservation. the idea that in order to aggressively push hardware a development team was enlisted to resurrect a long forsaken ip, in the process fundamentally misunderstanding the majority of its artistic sensibilities (sometimes aggressively so) to showcase a console’s power rubs me the wrong way for several reasons. and there’s potent irony here because we must also remember that in essence sony is banking on from softwares death cult to launch a console cycle for the second time in a row now. recall the invective words of shuhei yoshida, 2009: 'This is crap. This is an unbelievably bad game.' surely what is now a valuable ace in the sleeve for sonys financial strategy in the 9th generation of consoles onwards deserves more respect than this?

as an immediate contrast in the field of remakes, i’ll put forward that at the very least, ff7 is one of the most ubiquitous games of all time - to such a degree that altering its content and expanding on its themes in a rebuild-esque scenario is not only sensible, but appreciated. the same case is difficult to make for demon’s in my opinion.

perhaps bluepoints alterations, seldom rooted in any reverence for aesthetics but instead prioritizing largely perfunctory gameplay, are to your tastes. but they are not to mine. the original demon’s souls is an intensely difficult work to assess, litigate, and reconcile with, to be sure, but whatever your stance on it, it’s difficult to deny how exquisitely it worked with its limitations to fashion something that was entirely inspired and bold, yet quintessentially from software. none of that same evocative ethos is reflected here, and for these reasons i find bluepoint’s iteration extremely difficult to respect - doubly so because im in a position now of having twice been told to give bluepoint a chance on a remake, both times to personally and deeply unsatisfactory results. i only wish more folks had a convenient way of experiencing the original so they were free to pass their own judgments

i keep thinking about strangereal. strangereal is a terrific name for the world of ace combat. it aptly denotes the franchise’s mechanics, functions as a wry descriptor for the series’ daredevil aesthetic, and evokes a fantastical image. when it’s working effectively, the realism of strangereal is achieved by means of a kind of unconscious shorthand.

speaking anecdotally, a surprisingly significant number of people look at an ace combat title – the box art, the community, brief snippets of gameplay – and uncharitably make the assumption that it’s plane call of duty. given project aces’ reverence for realistic fighter jets, high altitudes contrails, and dogfighting dusk to dawn, this isn’t necessarily an unfair assumption to make. it’s sometimes uncommon for media to be so attentive to verisimilitude in the little details while simultaneously dabbling in the kind of magical realism that ace combat does. ace combat has top gun romanticism in its veins; it has more in common with afterburner than it does with microsoft flight sim. its primordial essence might as well have been scooped from galaga. but make no mistake, ace combat will imbue its systems with all the affectations of reality. you’ll learn a wealth of complex maneuvers to navigate three dimensional space, all the while stalling accidentally, evading the onslaught of enemy missiles from your periphery, and avoiding crashing into complex architectural spaces. the open air becomes your arena, cities and their edifices your escape shafts, ravines your trenches. it’s tempting – and very funny – to say this is a series about locking on to green squares and waiting for them to ding red, but the core gameplay loop finds its sense of pure excitement in all the minutiae, the calculations (yaw, roll, pitch, speed, missile trajectory) you have to make in order to synchronize with your jet and down a target. the moment you start becoming more comfortable using your regular outfitted machinegun in aerial engagements is the moment you ascend. it all comes down to your nerves. immelman turns, chandelles, cuban eights – cramped tunnel runs. you might call the experience holistically ‘strangereal’. but the most important thing is, of course, that this is a very highly attuned, enthralling natural drama that occurs in all the games – that of plane maneuverability.

ace combat’s strangereal setting is designed as simulacra over facsimile – where realities contend with abstraction. our history and theirs sometimes align, but only to invite comparison and perspective. the bleakness of electrosphere’s setting of strangereal seems callously exaggerated in its lack of regard for bodily autonomy, free will, and self-actualization, but its developers were only drawing upon influences readily understood unconsciously, enlisting production ig’s aid in setting the tone by way of formal shorthand. electrosphere, in depicting a world impoverished and emancipated by the whims of megacorporate warfare, grapples with the tenets of a large body of cyberpunk work depicting profound trepidation over technological revolution, with the venality and frank hostility of nations beset by late-stage capitalism, and draws upon a wealth of easily comprehensible mixed media – the advertising wars waged by microsoft and apple come to mind as a heady influence. this is deliberately reflected in electrospheres plane design. one dominant corporation, neucom, is sleek, futurist, impossibly glossy and curved; general resources, reflecting a down-to-brass-tacks utilitarian brand, serves as their stylistic inverse. this, too, is shorthand. it furthers the realism of strangereal while also exploring new ideas.

or take the strangereal of shattered skies for a comparatively more grounded approach. with terrain pockmark ridden at best (and irreversibly altered for the worst in many other instances) by a deluge of asteroid fragments following a global crisis, shattered skies immediately establishes political instability and humanity in crisis as the norm, which informs its setting and its depiction of warfare. this is a world picking up the straggling pieces after a semi-successful defense against a cataclysm of untold proportion, with these actions still inevitably leading to widespread devastation and the collapse of infrastructure. this is first introduced with the first lines spoken in ace combat 04:
“I was just a child when the stars fell from the skies. But I remember how they built a cannon to destroy them. And in turn how that cannon brought war upon us.”
the war in question is shattered skies’ continental war, which was triggered by loss of infrastructure, tensions with displaced refugees, and trade quotas. in brief summation, it involves the invasion of a nation with a railgun capable of destroying the ulysses asteroid, and repurposing it as an anti-aircraft weapon, and the fight to take it back. ace combat takes the struggles of reality – climate and extinction anxiety, humanitarian crises, warfare itself – and alters them through the lens of strangereal to convey its action. that, alongside the gameplay, is also a big appeal of the franchise.

all of these elements, depictions, and sensibilities coalesce to create a series that is continually compelling even at its messiest. shattered skies is the predecessor to the unsung war, and the franchise’s debut on the PS2. with that uncertain introduction, especially following the commercially unsuccessful yet wildly ambitious electrosphere, came a very solid, if unambitious title with a wide range of problems. the flow of its military campaigns made sense, its world was compelling and understated, its narrative quiet and melancholic yet taut, but it was sorely lacking in visual identity and mission variety. it returned to the traditional ace combat 2 military campaign structure of working towards an explicit goal through various missions, each sensibly placed one after the other. and the narrative emerging opposite this is one following the enemy aces who have no choice but to engage with you by the end, thus lending the proceeding battles weight through dramatic irony. it’s an unsettling moment when you kill one of yellow squadrons pilots for the first time and radio silence fills the airwaves, and it’s part of ace combat continuing in the footsteps of electrosphere: the necessary interrogation, however minor or subtle, of an arcade flight sim that feels great but derives influence from realism. this is something shattered skies nails (although electrosphere does it better) and to me it’s the crux of the series identity – it’s strangereal. it’s the feeling that this world could have been our own, but everything is affected by a layer of digital remove.

ace combat 5 finds this characteristic off-kilter reality in abeyance. the unsung war tips tips the formerly tightly wound balance (strange/real) far more towards the tonally ‘strange’, the magical realism. this isn’t the biggest problem ace combat 5 has, but it is absolutely the lynchpin of all my criticism because the approach undertaken by project aces in this game informs all the issues i have with it.

these changes, in my opinion, were seemingly made to ameliorate the problems people had with shattered skies. ace combat 04 is a dry but very candid and forthright title with a simple, but well-executed narrative. ace combat 5 has more personality from the get go and packs a bit more production value. the environments don’t look quite as dreary, the planes move a bit more responsively, and the cutscenes are 3D CG this time. on top of that there’s an actual cast of characters this time around and missions are usually set up with intrigue, so there’s a sense that something is happening to you rather than you being a lone agent in an ongoing overarching struggle. one mission starts from first person perspective as you remain in the cockpit, watching the bombs drop in your vicinity, before rushing to takeoff and defend the skies.

but this increased narrative focus carries with it several unique problems. i want to start with the first moment this became clear to me, because ace combat 5 opens decently enough that you might not notice the cracks in its seams, and with a charitable focus on the game one might not be so inclined to interrogate any potential mishaps or wrongdoings. seven missions into the game you’re pulled into a situation where you and your squad must lead a counter-assault against a submarine carrier; you had previously survived your last encounter with the submarine by the skin of your teeth. the submarines anti-aircraft weaponry consists of burst missiles which annihilate anything under an altitude of 5000 feet when it fires. you know this, your wingmen know this, the mission briefing specifies this – it won’t catch you off guard like it did the last time. on top of this you have now retrofitted a satellite with an orbital laser so that you have further means of dispatching the burst missiles.

the dilemma is this: lacking personnel with which to conduct the sortie, your commanding officers send your squadron and many cadets-in-training, affectionately named ‘nuggets’. despite their lack of dogfighting experience, they know enough that they’ll be able to hold their own against enemy ordinance, especially with full knowledge of what will be attacking them, no surprises.

wrong. all of the ‘nuggets’ died in the sortie because after three successful strikes, the orbital laser malfunctions. everyone realizes this and makes a big fuss over it, but rather than elevate aircrafts to an altitude of above 5000 feet within 30 seconds after the first warning from nagase (which, by the way, only takes three to four seconds to accomplish from a base altitude, if that) every single nugget perishes in burst missile range. this is because ace combat 5 is a game that for all intents and purposes begins favoring drama and wayward polemic at the expense of realism. it wasn’t a demanding altitude, a demanding time limit, or a demanding number of enemies and every cadet died to further the casualties suffered under war and to add to the cast’s understanding that War Isn’t All It’s Cracked Up To Be, We’re All Cogs™. while i haven’t tested it yet, it would not surprise me in the least if the AI for the nuggets climbed to an altitude just below 5000 feet, and then right before the safe zone, they stalled so as to perish in battle.

but the troubles don’t really end there. the increased focus on the narrative proceedings and on wingman banter has direct ramifications for gameplay as well. several of ace combat 5s missions are unnecessarily padded so your squadmates can speak, ordained by the script, before progressing to the next stage of the mission. i played on hard difficulty and even then i was stunned to see that because i had dispatched all enemies well before the mission dictates that i should have, the mission simply continues to respawn enemies on the ground and in the air so that you have something to do to fill out the dead time. not only is this obscenely artificial once you come to grips with what’s going on, but it also throws a significant wrench into preparing for a sortie. i accept the premise that a mission briefing could be wrong so as to further the stakes and to amplify the tension of the gameplay, but this is a case where all your mission briefings might be lying to you and you have no way of foreseeing it. a mission with 30 ground targets and 15 aerial targets could easily become a mission with twofold that amount, with one particularly egregious mission respawning enemy bunkers repeatedly after you had already dealt with them. complicating this is both the lack of resupply lines from ace combat 4 and targets with greater health pools than prior iterations of ace combat, meaning you waste more ammunition to deal with enemies that were not specified to be there and you have to micromanage your ammunition to counter this fact in what is supposed to be a replayable, score-based arcade title. missions are stuffed to the brim with this kind of dead time and overindulgence in enemy count. one mission has you follow a truck for five minutes with zero friction – you cant even target structures so as to stop the trucks path. at least the mission where you flew slowly at low altitude for ten minutes possessed a semblance of mild danger. your wingmen barely make a dent in any of this despite any of the tactical orders you might try to give them. if you don’t believe me, kindly look at my squadmates numbers by the end of the campaign.

https://imgur.com/a/BfwCqNN

this is also the longest campaign in an ace combat title, topping out at 27 missions plus a victory lap. with the litany of scripted missions and gimmick missions that this title has, ace combat has never felt so much like an exhausting marathon. there are moments that it all works as a nice composite, but these moments are so few and far in between that the game is actively drowning in mud for most of it. it’s quite amusing to me that this entry in the franchise has the opposite problem of something like nier or drakengard – both of which are recipients of ace combat’s conceptual dna. in nier, the problem is the casts dialogue during battles, which are both narratively important and entertaining, but can easily be cut off by player input; in ace combat 5, the script, oftentimes for worse, obstructs player input in service of narrative. despite this, this can easily be interpreted in niers favour, which i won’t do for the sake of avoiding spoilers. ace combat 5 gets no such reprieve.

some of this might be excused if the unsung war had a good narrative, but it rather unfortunately registers to me as hisitronics. it’s bereft of the kind of nuance, humanity, or expressiveness of previous entries in the series in favour of aerial schmaltz. these characters are paper thin apex predators fighting against the machinations of war by doing hardly anything different from any other title in the series – indiscriminate slaughter. and far be it from me to reject something that has the potential to be subversive or satirical in intent, but nothing about the unsung war is even vaguely suggestive of this to me. it’s markedly less thoughtful than both electrosphere and shattered skies before it, without the comparative mechanical strengths of the relatively narrativeless ace combat 2. it sacrifices what works for an anti-war fairy tale that culminates in a squadron’s shared anti-war anthem, right before eviscerating the enemys offence entirely in a show of brute military strength. the whiplash is unreal to me. particularly so when the conspiratorial bent of the narrative seems like it will dismantle the kind of jingoist nationalism that fuels combative sentiment, but stops before even attempting to.

it takes a lot to pull me out of this kind of high octane schlock, but ace combat 5 represents the worst of both worlds. its lack of meaningful hooks renders its explosive highs destitute by the time you get there, and all the strengths it possesses as a mechanical ace combat title are negligible once you remember that they’re reflected better in the games before it. i much prefer the cowboy bebop-esque fatalism of something like shattered skies over the sluggish and preachy, constantly disconnected nature of ace combat 5. my argument here doesn’t intend to suggest that ace combat can’t be corny, but this tone should operate in tandem with the systems rather than disrupting them. and likewise, the mechanics should leverage the storytelling. because ultimately, project aces are right – in spite of the destruction they represent, planes are cool. they’re kinetic. they dance and joust in the skies. but so much of this game is repellant instead – it misses what makes ace combat work mechanically, and it misses what makes it work narratively. it aspires to the self-interrogation of games past, but instead opts for having your squadmate say ‘dogfights suck’ in the first mission of the game. its attempts to evoke reality are both underwritten and lacking in subtlety (yuktobania in this game is absolutely just russia; the antagonists in this game are cartoonishly committed to being evil). it ain’t strangereal, it’s just strange. and i can get similar, but more considered joys, somewhere else.

absolutely hates women and denies them any personhood at all but simultaneously tries to be a critique of impotent men who hate women and deny them their personhood

IT FAILS REAL BAD!!!

A real shame because some of the satoshi kon-esque psychological imagery can be fun and the puzzle gamplay is devious and interesting.

The transphobic stuff is just repulsive and sad. The fact that this game was branded as some dark and cerebral adult drama that analyzes relationship dynamics is a pathetic joke. There's less nuance here than a Two and a Half Men episode.