(mild spoilers for the OG FF7)
For some reason, I was dismissive of Final Fantasy as a franchise for a good portion of my youth. Upon playing the original Final Fantasy VII on a whim over the course of a high-school spring break, I came to understand that FF7 was leaps and bounds above the caliber of RPGs I had played up until that point in my life. I was enthralled by the game, the janky polygonal models, the antiquated solid blue menus, the charmingly awkward translation, Nobuo Uematsu’s masterclass of a soundtrack. FF7 felt so miraculously good that it could never be recreated, meaningful and immersive in a way that modern games obsessed with fidelity lose sight of. With simple polygonal models and rudimentary animations, it is simply impossible to convey a singular authorial intention. Too much is obscured. We’re given hints at what our cast's true feelings, emotions and thoughts are through dialogue, but much of the plot's apparent nuance is obscured by the limitations of the hardware. There’s no voice acting, and that’s for the better. (could you imagine FF7 with a hammy PS1-era English dub?) Much like reading a novel, the voices of the characters only truly exist within the mind of the player, or rather they are decided by the player, just as the player is offered the ability to name every party member. Thus, Final Fantasy 7 beckons the player to imprint a portion of ourselves onto its characters- to name them, to understand them, to control them, to love them. What does Cloud think, holding Aerith in his arms in the City of the Ancients? What does Nanaki think, upon seeing his hated father’s sacrifice? What does Barret think, watching his best friend commit suicide right in front of him?
These questions are left for the player to interpret. Despite the game’s plot following the same set structure every time, an individual player’s view of any particular character is shaped by their ability to empathize with them and come to an understanding of the idea of Cloud, or Tifa, or Aerith, or whoever. This is a magical part of RPGs that has become pushed to the wayside among major AAA releases. Everything has to be clearly defined, voiced and fleshed out, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but I do feel that it diminishes the sense of adventure great RPGs can impart. In Final Fantasy VII, I felt like I was along for the ride. In Final Fantasy VII Remake, it feels like I’m watching from a distance.
Final Fantasy VII Remake pales in comparison to the original on a narrative level (I do recognize that this is the first of many installments in the overarching project, so this may not remain true), though that’s not so much of a diss on the Remake as it is a recognition of the FF7’s excellence. Remake stretches the wonderfully paced opening of the original to an at times nauseating degree. The big, important sections of the game were very well done, namely the opening bombing mission, Wall Market, and the raid on Shinra Tower. I even found myself enjoying most of the brand-new story beats, even if I didn’t outright love them. This game has some real stinker levels, though, stretching boring, menial sections of the original out to a painful degree. The Collapsed Expressway, the Sewers, and the Train Graveyard drag on for much longer than they should in what feels like a ham-fisted attempt to pad the game’s runtime. FF7R’s combat, then, acts as the only saving grace for the game’s lacking areas. Cloud’s sword feels weighty and powerful to use, in comparison to Clive FF16’s limp PVC pipe of a sword. Aerith’s magic was really fun to experiment with, and melting bosses with Tifa’s staggering damage output was awesome. I was a little underwhelmed by Barret as a combatant, which sucks because he’s one of my favorite party members in the original. I really wish Red XII was a controllable party member, though I do understand why he isn’t.
Ultimately, the Final Fantasy VII Remake kind of made me feel like the Grinch even though I came out of it generally having a good time. It’s a celebration of the Final Fantasy VII universe, and not necessarily the original game itself. It’s clearly morphing into a new entity, distinct from the original, and that’s fine! A simple one-to-one remake of Final Fantasy 7 could never work. It’s too iconic, and including spin-offs it has been molded into an amorphous blob of Content. I will gladly accept any game which tries to make sense of whatever the hell Square was doing with the Final Fantasy VII universe in the 2000s. I do think that it’s somewhat disingenuous to imply this game replaces the classic Final Fantasy VII in any way, and I would recommend the original over the remake to pretty much anyone. I’m excited to see how Rebirth tackles the more open ended middle and ending of disc one, whenever I eventually get around to playing it.
For some reason, I was dismissive of Final Fantasy as a franchise for a good portion of my youth. Upon playing the original Final Fantasy VII on a whim over the course of a high-school spring break, I came to understand that FF7 was leaps and bounds above the caliber of RPGs I had played up until that point in my life. I was enthralled by the game, the janky polygonal models, the antiquated solid blue menus, the charmingly awkward translation, Nobuo Uematsu’s masterclass of a soundtrack. FF7 felt so miraculously good that it could never be recreated, meaningful and immersive in a way that modern games obsessed with fidelity lose sight of. With simple polygonal models and rudimentary animations, it is simply impossible to convey a singular authorial intention. Too much is obscured. We’re given hints at what our cast's true feelings, emotions and thoughts are through dialogue, but much of the plot's apparent nuance is obscured by the limitations of the hardware. There’s no voice acting, and that’s for the better. (could you imagine FF7 with a hammy PS1-era English dub?) Much like reading a novel, the voices of the characters only truly exist within the mind of the player, or rather they are decided by the player, just as the player is offered the ability to name every party member. Thus, Final Fantasy 7 beckons the player to imprint a portion of ourselves onto its characters- to name them, to understand them, to control them, to love them. What does Cloud think, holding Aerith in his arms in the City of the Ancients? What does Nanaki think, upon seeing his hated father’s sacrifice? What does Barret think, watching his best friend commit suicide right in front of him?
These questions are left for the player to interpret. Despite the game’s plot following the same set structure every time, an individual player’s view of any particular character is shaped by their ability to empathize with them and come to an understanding of the idea of Cloud, or Tifa, or Aerith, or whoever. This is a magical part of RPGs that has become pushed to the wayside among major AAA releases. Everything has to be clearly defined, voiced and fleshed out, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but I do feel that it diminishes the sense of adventure great RPGs can impart. In Final Fantasy VII, I felt like I was along for the ride. In Final Fantasy VII Remake, it feels like I’m watching from a distance.
Final Fantasy VII Remake pales in comparison to the original on a narrative level (I do recognize that this is the first of many installments in the overarching project, so this may not remain true), though that’s not so much of a diss on the Remake as it is a recognition of the FF7’s excellence. Remake stretches the wonderfully paced opening of the original to an at times nauseating degree. The big, important sections of the game were very well done, namely the opening bombing mission, Wall Market, and the raid on Shinra Tower. I even found myself enjoying most of the brand-new story beats, even if I didn’t outright love them. This game has some real stinker levels, though, stretching boring, menial sections of the original out to a painful degree. The Collapsed Expressway, the Sewers, and the Train Graveyard drag on for much longer than they should in what feels like a ham-fisted attempt to pad the game’s runtime. FF7R’s combat, then, acts as the only saving grace for the game’s lacking areas. Cloud’s sword feels weighty and powerful to use, in comparison to Clive FF16’s limp PVC pipe of a sword. Aerith’s magic was really fun to experiment with, and melting bosses with Tifa’s staggering damage output was awesome. I was a little underwhelmed by Barret as a combatant, which sucks because he’s one of my favorite party members in the original. I really wish Red XII was a controllable party member, though I do understand why he isn’t.
Ultimately, the Final Fantasy VII Remake kind of made me feel like the Grinch even though I came out of it generally having a good time. It’s a celebration of the Final Fantasy VII universe, and not necessarily the original game itself. It’s clearly morphing into a new entity, distinct from the original, and that’s fine! A simple one-to-one remake of Final Fantasy 7 could never work. It’s too iconic, and including spin-offs it has been molded into an amorphous blob of Content. I will gladly accept any game which tries to make sense of whatever the hell Square was doing with the Final Fantasy VII universe in the 2000s. I do think that it’s somewhat disingenuous to imply this game replaces the classic Final Fantasy VII in any way, and I would recommend the original over the remake to pretty much anyone. I’m excited to see how Rebirth tackles the more open ended middle and ending of disc one, whenever I eventually get around to playing it.