Crispy Gamer

Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII (PSP)

Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII is a monument to the worst of Square Enix's vices. The game is a shiny slab of fan service tuned to fill nostalgic neuroreceptors with feel-good jolts of juice. Pull back the curtain, though, and the wizard ain't all he's cracked up to be. Lazy plotting, clich?d characters and dry combat leave little to compel the player. There is one carrot that Square Enix knows they can always dangle in a fix. Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII is peppered with eye-popping cut scenes. Insane battles portray heroes taking to the sky, their sword-slashes severing the scenery like balsa wood. Summoned monsters reel back into outer space, transforming the moon into a crystal-powered energy cannon just to swat you on the back. Square Enix knows how to mount a CG spectacle like no one else. Like the moments in a Busby Berkeley musical when the top hats tilt and the tap shoes twinkle, the game's animated cut scenes bring with them an incalculable electricity. Thing is, these moments aren't really videogame anymore. They're commercial breaks that a TiVo remote can't do anything to dispel.



The game's protagonist is Zack, a spiky-haired cosplay kid that feels slightly out of place in the semi-gritty world of Final Fantasy VII. He's of the perky new breed of Final Fantasy hero -- all outsized gestures and hot-headed passion. Zack is prone to the same vaguely inappropriate pose favored by Vaan from Final Fantasy XII. Hands behind his head, elbows out and stomach taut, the grinning hero looks ready for his Abercrombie and Fitch catalog close-up. Of course this posture is one synonymous with youthful spirit and rebellion in Japan, but like much of the game's dialogue, intent gets lost in translation. Zack is an up-and-coming SOLDIER who finds himself tangled in the sublimated love triangle of his superiors. Genesis, Angeal and Sephiroth are old-school brooders who hash out their complicated interpersonal conflicts with their fellow men by swinging swords, reciting poetry and flapping their mutant angels' wings at each other. Your ability to enjoy the mis en scene of Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII relies heavily on your ability to choke down this kind of self-serious silliness.

The good news is that the game is at least moderately fun to play. Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII seems like it was crafted with handheld play in mind. The action is divided into bite-sized chunks. Every major plot point is followed by a break and a save point. This episodic vibe is further diced by a series of micro-missions that can be undertaken at any save point. In any other setting these homogeneous brawls and crawls would be considered filler, but in the mobile context they work. Fights are peppy, with a turn-based mechanic buried so deep in responsive movement that it's easy to forget that you're not always in control. The materia system, rightfully considered one of the best in-game delivery methods for role-play customization, allows players to juice Zack up as an all-out brawler or imbue him with the powers of a supreme sorcerer. Beneath all the flash of Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII is buried a rock-solid mechanic. Draping killer stat building and customization with meaningless glitz is like pimping out your dad's cherry '57 Chevy with spinners: It's kinda tacky, but there's still a monster beneath the hood.

Fans won't give two shakes. As a member of SOLDIER, Zack gets to rub elbows with Sephiroth. Since Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII has very little to drive the action forward, the gloomy albino anti-hero regularly hits Zack up on his mobile phone to tell him where to go next. Who cares that there's no real reason for Zack move from plot point to plot point? When you're playing Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, you're on Sephiroth's speed dial! For that hardcore fan, that's like IMing with Beyonc? or doing shots with George Clooney -- and let's not forget Zack's dalliances with tragic videogame it-girl Aerith. Here's a chance to get entwined in one of gaming's first emotional gut-punches. In a very real way, the entire game is one big chance to rub elbows with a celebrity. In this case, the star is the original game, Final Fantasy VII. It doesn't matter if you're a fan of the cyberpunk setting, the superb soundtrack or the beloved characters -- when you play Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, you're soaking in it. The nostalgia is hard to resist. Even as a self-avowed skeptic of the original game, I still felt a chill when the game's classic battle music kicked in, though my affection for the song stems more from a banging remix of the track by DJ Green Lantern than from a genuine affection for Final Fantasy VII. Like it or not, Final Fantasy VII is a gaming touchstone. It may not have been a perfect game, but its hits with the impact of a comet. Millions of fans can be wrong, but why begrudge them their fun? Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII will blow the devoted out of their socks. For the rest of us, it's just another reminder that somewhere along the line we missed the airship.

This review was based on a retail copy of the game provided by the publisher.