TL;DR:
a solid foundation that could have been fleshed out just a little more.

the lack of story, world building, and a deeper pool of visually distinct assets prevents me from feeling too strongly about this game. at the same time, it is innovative and meaty with satisfyingly designed dungeon layouts and monster interaction.

good 1 - an emphasis on boss fights and strategy for them. invulnerability phases, rage phases, add phases, narrow attack windows, damage type skews, really quite a large array of focus and none of it coming off gimmicky. more, they fully broadcast to you ahead of time what the party level average / boss kill turn number will net you a S rank. i think this is really refreshing. it presents a gentle alternative to the super bosses that you would find in a Dungeon Travelers game, which tend to be strongly bottle-necked by grind and gear. that said, i didn't have that hard of a time getting S rank on every boss.

good 2 - there are level caps and you determine when to level and de-level a character. leveling a character does not take long, and i rarely went over 1.5 hrs of dedicated grinding in a single dungeon. levels determine general stats as well as what skills you have access to. early on this limitations will cause you to potentially skew your levels towards one character just to access their skills for a boss fight.
independent to character levels are skill point accumulation and gear upgrades. every piece of a gear has an EXP bar and will automatically upgrade itself until it reaches that levels max rank. skill points are not capped in any form and will be slowly accrued over the course of the game. all this means that even if you are fiddling with the limitations in pursuit of the S rank evaluation, you can still be progressing in other ways.

good 3 - classes feel more individualized and interesting than they did in Undernauts. instead of subclasses you have alt classes that you can freely swap between. 'order' is focused strongly on the class (black mage for example) whereas the 'chaos' variant can pull from a variety of class skills (support mage w/hunter skills etc). inside of a dungeon you can freely respec your characters skill points and swap between these alt classes. however, you can only change profession back at base.
as much as i like the former freedom, i think you might as well go all the way and let us become FF14. allow me to have every hero be able to freely swap between every class, with gear load-outs saved and loaded in. if this were the case, they could focus even harder on the strategy side of things when it comes to boss fights.

good 4 - an interesting hedge on 'blind' dungeoning. every dungeon you start out in you don't have a map to. the map can be found eventually, or you can wuss out and permanently change to a mode where the map is always accessible. i personally used a third party program to map things out but at the end of the day i don't think it was necessary and probably would have been more fun without (i was expecting Dungeon Travelers-tier depravity).

good 5 - all the amenities of modern crawler: fast menuing, cursor memory, repeat inputs, auto-map movement that lets you quicksnap to exits and move across multiple floors and even through teleporters.

good 6 - delightful art style and animations. it's always pleasant to look at (even if i would have liked more monster variety)

medium 1 - as the game gets later the pool of available items expands making it more difficult to find relevant gear for your characters. i think this is where they could have benefited from the gem system that Demon Gaze uses, allowing you to specify what item bases will drop on the encounter to narrow your selections. but, at the same time you can stick with a lower tier piece of gear long enough it will have upgraded to the point that it is basically on par with stuff you are finding anyway.

medium 2 - dungeon hazards are underplayed to accommodate this emphasis on FOE movement and blindness. traditionally there are warping puzzles, one way doors, conveyor movement, spell restricted zones switch puzzles etc. by the end of the game i think i miss these qualities but at the same time the blind dungeon exploration was wholly unique that it almost balances out.

medium 3 - some text input puzzles, but they are very simple and just involve referencing documents you pick up.

flaw 1 - the dungeon biomes are not visually distinct enough. walls and tiles are essentially repainted or given a very slight flourish, and instead they opt for things like global tint or adding haze or lowering field of vision to change the mood, but Undernauts was much better in this regard.

flaw 2 - story and world-building is significantly weaker compared to Undernauts. there's a mimic you can talk to in every dungeon and a couple people in town you can chat up but there isn't much in the way of story here.
this could be a medium though since i think this appeals to the EO crowd who prefers games light on story but strong in every other area.

flaw 3 - a title this long with this kind of aesthetic evokes a plethora of off-the-wall comedy or rom/com animes that this game is very much not. and while the title an serve as a friendly reminder of how to approach playing the game, it is not emphasized of made meaningful by means of the game itself.
you boot up the game, and a mature female voice very patiently says the entire thing. it is not hammed up or made absurd. it is simply a few lines of dialogue that are said to you at one point early on.
ultimately, i'm not sure what their goal was with this title other than generating media buzz and i think this will only serve to cheapen its value over time.

The 2nd attempt at playing a Dragon Warrior/Quest game for me, after my initial experience with Dragon Warrior 1 on the NES.

It went a little better than my first experience... but not by much. The game felt so archaic, even for its time; it was as if I was progressing backwards in time, and it made me recall why I didn't enjoy the RPG genre on the original NES. I thought it was very generic/formulaic after experiencing the Final Fantasy games on PS1.

Also, the game's start did itself no favors. Coming from the bombastic opening of say a Final Fantasy VII, to this game, where the opening hours were not spent in a single battle... I didn't enjoy it at all, is putting it mildly.

Fire Emblem 7 is my personal favorite video game ever made.

I received it for Christmas of 2003 from my aunt along with my new Flame Red Gameboy SP from my mother. I don't know why she got it for me, nor will I ever question it. Cause it changed my life, for better or worse.

The original Fire Emblem games by Shouzou Kaga were smash hits in Japan. Kaga wanted a strategy game wherein "each character is a protagonist in their own right, and you can actually get attached to them, making it closer to an RPG[.]" I always wax poetic about "player expression" whenever I am reviewing games nowadays, and that was what Kaga wanted in his series. When asked about it in the same interview, he opines, "I think this is something people understand once they play the game, but most of the characters are usable. And characters who at first seem like crappy, throwaway characters–if you take the time to build them up and nurture them, they can become incredibly powerful. We made a lot of characters like that."

Fast forwarding to 2003, Fire Emblem: The Blazing Blade follows the same design philosphy. Tohru Narihiro, a producer at Intelligent Systems states in a May 2003 interview that "The primary focus was to enable people do not play SRPGs to enjoy it." It is a simple game, released 6 years after Final Fantasy Tactics, the game most people (myself included) would credit as having popularized SRPGs in the west.

Firstly, I will get the obvious out of the way. This is an absolutely beautiful game with stunning pixel art and an incredible score. It is an absolute aesthetic masterpiece, with much of the groundwork laid out by its predecessor The Binding Blade. These two games are some the best looking and sounding titles in the entire Gameboy Advance library. That honor is owed to two veritable superwomen of the genre who do not get enough credit. There was Sachiko Wada, who did the character portraits as well as in-game CGs. Her art was the stuff of dreams for me, and it honestly still is. She can nail quiet beauty to war-weary stoicness; adorably cute to horrifically ugly and everything in between. Her art gives the game so much of its character- it wouldn't be FE7 without Wada's portraits. As much as I really like the art from the older entries, her work is the Fire Emblem platonic ideal. Her designs really do form the baseline by which I often compare other characters, even in other games. Wada has only worked on the Fire Emblem series to date and she is seriously incredible. She still does artwork for the Fire Emblem Heroes gacha and some commemorative pieces as well, all of which can be checked out on her Pixiv. Then there is the game's composer, Yuka Tsujiyoko. Tracks like “Wind across the Plains,” “Companions,” etc. have become iconic pieces within the series and that is all thanks to Tsujiyoko’s virtuosity. “Bern - A Mother’s Wish” deserved a real sound chip! As much as people hate the squeals and scratches of the hardware, she made it sound wonderful, particularly on the main theme, which to this day is my favorite rendition of such an iconic leitmotif.

Fire Emblem’s story is segmented into three different “modes,” one of which is a prologue and two of which exist as parallel timelines, each focusing on one of three central protagonists.

Lyndis, the first protagonist, acted as a model introduction for so many people into the world of Fire Emblem and strategy RPGs in general. It is comprised of ten simple maps and appropriately scaled narrative- a tight well constructed intro arc of a young woman of the plains discovering she is of royal birthright. Lyndis meets friends and foes alike who each introduce core concept of the games mechanics - the weapon triangle, siege maps, rout maps, terrain bonuses, party organization, enemy reinforcements, fog of war, etc.

Lyndis is a strong character, never a damsel in distress, neither beholden to expectations of her ethnicity nor her gender. Her journey through a war torn Caelin hints at far greater forces at work, but keeps things focused on her own personal odyssey and growth. Lyn Mode does have it’s fair share of criticism, particularly the forced tutorial aspects which has annoyed veteran players to the point that removing it has become a staple for ROM hackers. Lyn Mode is very easy too, but it is supposed to be, because it’s supposed to be an introduction to major gameplay concepts. It is a tutorial that has gone a step beyond, with a likable character arc and some of the most endearing playable units in the entire series. One of my main criticisms of the game is that Lyn ends up being less useful from a metagaming standpoint, because she is one of my favorite characters in any video game.

“The nomads of the plains do not abandon their fellow tribespeople. Eliwood and Hector are my dear friends… Their sorrow is my sorrow. Their anger is my anger.” - Lyndis in Chapter 31E/33H, Light

Then the world opens up to Eliwood’s story, the game begins a proper progression into an extensive and oftentimes challenging strategy game. Eliwood is a comparatively tame and even boring choice of protagonist compared to Lyn, sort of the picturesque shonen hero that we associate with earlier Fire Emblem. He even has the big sword to boot. Yet as the world opens up and we meet the cast, learn of the surrounding nations and their inhabitants, his story arc still maintains high quality. Eliwood mode, for better or worse, is the way we are introduced to the meat and potatoes of the game. You fight your way through sprawling maps with scores of enemy units, conveying a desperate struggle as the flames of war engulf the surrounding landscape. The political intrigue and stories of love, loss and betrayal convey great emotional weight; they serve as amazing backdrops to particularly difficult maps. The game oozes despair as armies of unfeeling humanoid killers descend on Prince Zephiel in the dead of night, or when Ostia lays under siege. The constant threat of the mercenary group The Black Fang, whom have sentenced you to death “softly, with grace.”

“In the name of the Fang, I sentence you to death. Do not blame me for your fate. It is your own doing.” - Lloyd Reed, in Chapter 23E/24H: Four-Fanged Offense

Of course the real star of the show is the game’s third protagonist, Hector, he of the blue-haired and brash Fire Emblem family. Hector Mode is considered Fire Emblem: The Blazing Blade’s greatest triumph- specifically “Hector Hard Mode” (HHM) which is considerably more difficult than any of the other game modes. Hector was the proto-Ike, a gigantic presence on and off the battlefield. He feels much more magnetic than Eliwood, but their brotherhood is what serves as one of the best parts of the game’s narrative. Hector essentially abandons his post as a royal to help his friend and must deal with the consequences and his own regrets. Eliwood’s story is fully complemented and two’s stories intertwine in perfect harmony as both come to terms with the realities of the war. Hector’s path also opens up several different maps, all quite difficult; and also serves as the basis for unlocking all the hidden lore within the game. Once you have experience HHM, you really have experienced the full breadth of what this game can offer- it is an immensely satisfying and well balanced experience with a great trio of protagonists.

“Listen, Mark. You know how Eliwood is. Never wants to burden anyone else… Takes all responsibility on himself… Now, more than ever, we have to support him. Let’s go, Mark!” - Hector in Chapter 28E, Valorous Roland

Much of what we understand as the modern conception of the "SRPG" is owed to Kaga's production of Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon and the Blade of Light; which on its own was produced to be a more accessible, character-driven answer to strategy games prior. Indeed, Fire Emblem throughout the years has relied on rather simple calculations for its different gameplay functions. Take the calculation in Blazing Blade for Attack Speed (which determines if you will attack twice during the fight, referred to a "doubling"):

AS = (Speed) - (Burden)
Burden = (Wt) - (Con); negative Burden values are set to 0
Wt = value of unit's equipped weapon's weight
Con = value of the given unit's constitution.

The calculation for whether or not you can "double" is as follows:

[(Unit's attack speed) − (target's attack speed)] ≥ 4

This is something that can very easily be calculated in a couple minutes just looking at a unit's stat spread and their weapon stats. Everything is simple to understand. You can tell just from looking at the Mani Katti weapon that is effective against infantry. What does that mean in the context of the game? It simply deals bonus damage; calculated as 3x the amount of damage you do (which has its own calculation.)

The best part? You don't even need to know this math in FE7. If you can double, it gives you a x2 indicator next to the might, which is calculated for you. Effective weapons will have glowing text. The weapon triangle is a relatively simple Rock Paper Scissors mechanic as well. This sort of simplicity is what makes the game’s combat intuitive for me to play even back in 2003. It has a high skill ceiling yet isn’t obtuse. The ultimate accessible strategy RPG, a direct descendant of the forefather of the genre itself.

Throughout the development of the series, Kaga noted that some people found the games too simple on a mechanical level; to this, he responded that "Well, that is an understandable response from the perspective of hardcore strategy buffs... [b]ut for Nintendo-made products, the baseline for the development is always that it be easy to play to the end, something “anyone can pick up and enjoy.” And I think that is a perfectly fine approach in its own right." Hironobu Sakaguchi, who had the very same design philosophy for Final Fantasy, would agree; and he was in fact a fan of the series himself.

I have great reverence for Final Fantasy Tactics and I think it is one of the greatest contributions to the entire corpus of strategy games. Just from playing the first few maps of Tactics I understood implicitly that this game had depth far and beyond anything produced during the SNES or GBA era of Fire Emblems. Tactics pushed the boundaries of the genre, both from a mechanical and storytelling perspective and I love the game. Yet I wouldn't recommend Tactics as an introduction to the genre to most people. Sure, it popularized the genre to people who didn't know anything about strategy RPGs prior, but I think Blazing Blade is in fact the real perfect introduction to the genre and works as a gateway into the wider world of the genre- which includes Final Fantasy Tactics in its unfiltered glory.

The units in Tactics are for the most part faceless generics, whom allow you complete freedom in how you shape you army. By contrast, every playable unit in Fire Emblem 7 has a face, a story and a unique role with stats to complement. These approaches both have merit. I love the generic soldier concept, especially in games without permadeath systems like the fantastic Fell Seal: Arbiter’s Mark. We have Final Fantasy Tactics to thank for that.

The strength of Blazing Blade's approach sacrifices individual unit freedom for the prospect of forming emotional bonds with the characters, whom have established backstories and personalities. I always enjoyed Serra’s love-hate relationship with Erk, even if both units were weaker and harder to train. I felt a strong connection to them as characters and had a vested interest in raising them within the army. As a kid, I simply wouldn't have been able to fully appreciate the gameplay freedom inherent in FFT’s generics in comparison versus the strong personalities of Erk and Serra. I certainly would not have felt as compelled to reset a map to save a generic, faceless unit if there was a permadeath mechanic.

The approach towards unit death in strategy games has always been traditionally one of the numbers game, especially in games that try to hew closer to realism. Julian Gollop taught the world with XCOM: UFO Defense that overconfidence invites disaster and we must learn to manage our losses- not everyone is going to make it out ok and sometimes your best soldiers have to be sacrificed to make it through the mission. Real-time strategy games are so often about throwing hordes at one another, because that is truly what war is.

Kaga took this approach with the initial games in the series because he "wanted to create a game where the player could get more emotionally invested in what’s happening." He wanted a refutation of the numbers game, and this is often highlighted by each character’s individual death quote if they are slain in battle. Any Fire Emblem player can tell you stories of the permadeath system and the psychological impetus it puts on your actions in this game. I remember running through Four-Fanged Offense in my first playthrough as a kid. Doing everything right, and I understood implicitly I had put in serious progress for my overall army's strength. All of that... just to lose my underleveled Guy to a terrifying guerilla attack from the boss. I was in tears of frustration. Then I reset the game and did it all again. I did that despite the fact I didn't even need Guy to continue on through the game. I did it because I was invested and I wanted him to be stronger and see it through to the end. I could've continued, replaced him in the army. But that wouldn't be Guy in my army. I couldn't just replace him with a identical, perhaps even stronger generic unit. He would be lost forever, and dead from a narrative standpoint. Lost as a casualty of war while the other characters pushed through to victory. I couldn't deal with that. This is something Fire Emblem really became famous for among gaming circles.

Permadeath is so contentious that the series itself changes its attitude towards it as it attempted to garner more mass appeal. Permadeath in the later entries like Three Houses is now locked behind “Classic” modes while consequences are far lighter in casual or normal gameplay difficulties. That feels like a poignant descriptor. The specter of permadeath and its affect on your gameplay is just quintessential Fire Emblem to me. There isn’t a better word to describe the experience of Fire Emblem 7 than “classic.”

"[Interviewer:] There is a scene where an important character dies along the way. What was the reason behind including this death scene?

[Tohru Narihiro:] This is a recurring theme throughout the series. The game is one with fighting, but is not just about fighting. The underlying theme of the series that we want people to feel is the foolishness and fickle nature of war and battle. This has been the continuous theme of the series."

Simply put, I don't think I would have been able to appreciate Final Fantasy Tactics as that kid back in 2003, and possibly not have forged the same relationship with strategy games (and games in general) as I did with Blazing Blade. I don't think that lessens Tactic’s impact as a seminal piece of art. I think it just speaks to why my connection to Fire Emblem 7 feels more significant.

Playing as an adult, the game hasn’t remotely lost its luster to me. I don’t even view this as a product of nostalgia- Fire Emblem 7 stands proud among its compatriots with a well designed ratio of difficulty, strong characterization, implicit depth, intuitive game design, and player expression. You can take the road of ruthless efficiency, sacrifice units if you have to, and achieve your low turn count mastery of the game. You can raise your favorite units and see them through to the end. You can do a little of both. The game is amazing regardless.

I love Fire Emblem, I love strategy RPGs and I have this game to thank for that.

"Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago, and you curse the Marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know -- that Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives; and my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives.

You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall -- you need me on that wall."

- Colonel Nathan R. Jessup, A Few Good Men (1992)

The allure of any good mystery is the twist and turns of the deductive process. Many people like an easy answer, but what good piece of mystery fiction would trade the bombast and spectacle for a quick solution? This is something The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles understands. Shu Takumi has fully embraced the theatrics of Arthur Conan Doyle's Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. In doing so, he has taken the Ace Attorney franchise to heights that could previously only be dreamed of. Through its period piece setting, wonderfully developed characters and elegant treatment of its criminal drama, The Great Ace Attorney duology firmly sits above its predecessors and sets a new standard for the series.

Taking place primarily in Victorian-era London, the devil is truly in the details for Great Ace Attorney. Beautiful background set pieces strongly accentuate Kazuya Nuri's character designs, which are in top form in this game. They incorporate the sleek design of the game's previous protagonists with tasteful period-appropriate attire, which allows for that crucial sense of normalcy when juxtaposed against the wilder character designs we have come to associate with Ace Attorney. Notably, you can see the incorporation of steampunk elements to highlight the fantastical nature of science at the turn of the 20th century. The curiosity of the time period underlines many of the characters' chief motivations. This embrace of the "weird" and the "strange" makes Great Ace Attorney a absolute joy to play.

Thematically, the game plays on the very same concepts that were central to the Sherlock Holmes canon- the political intrigue of the time period and the onset of scientific development that promised to shake the very foundations of our understanding of the world. The game tackles changing social and economic mores in a manner that the previous Ace Attorneys could not, owing to the central focus on corruption within the British judiciary. Throughout the duology, the game places a retributive concept of justice under the microscope, allowing the player to examine the ways in which we think about crime, its sources and how we must combat it. Its criticism of the legal system's tendency towards bias and personal convictions (shown through the summation examination sequences) is especially welcome- as it does not dismiss the need for jury trials out of hand, but offers a measured criticism that highlights boths its strength and weaknesses. It similarly refuses to avert its eyes from the structural implications that class, gender and race have within society.

The Herlock Sholmes of Ace Attorney is an eccentric loose cannon, a gamesman who reflects Shu Takumi's understanding of Doyle and detective fiction in general. Sholmes "Dances of Deduction" serve to highlight the theatrical nature in which Doyle approached solving mysteries. In understanding the importance of spectacle, the game adroitly turns mundane observations into thrilling endeavours. As spotlights shine on the characters, as if they are in a stage play, we understand that Sholmes relishes just logic and deduction, but the art of showmanship as well. Perfectly scored by Yasumasa Kitagawa and Hiromitsu Maeba, the games understanding of what makes detective stories "tick" serves to elevate the game itself in the very same way. Thanks to this emphasis on the detective throughline, the cases themselves are fantastic in much the same way, with some of the greatest red herrings I have ever seen in the series, and some ridiculously clever uses of evidence that go much further than simply being obscure stretches of logic.

Chronicles defies precedent in many ways, but what most strongly comes to mind is in how Takumi treats continuity between the two games. As a long time fan of the series, I have always cherished the Ace Attorney games as individual experiences. Every game has offered tightly constructed crime dramas with satisfying payoffs. The games' episodic format draws liberally from the "mystery of the week" of detective fiction. While this lends to well-paced and impactful storytelling, it has overall hurt the series' capacity for developing its characters in a way that shows meaningful growth. Phoenix Wright is clearly developed as a lawyer throughout the original trilogy of games, but by Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney – Trials and Tribulations (2004) it was apparent that Phoenix's personal genesis was concerned with his confidence and resolve as a lawyer and little else. In allowing for the mystery of the week, the games repeatedly ignore things that would entail more long-term character development: his relationships, the impact of specific trials, and most notably the passage of time.

The latter trilogy of Ace Attorney games- running from Apollo Justice through Spirit of Justice multiplies this problem exponentially. By this point in the series lifespan, the target audience wanted Phoenix Wright as the protagonist; so promising series newcomers Apollo Justice and Athena Cykes were given much less development as a result. Apollo's backstory was retconned multiple times to suit the current game's plotline, and Athena was all but completely sidelined with absolutely zero character growth after her most important story arc. This makes the games feel much stronger as individual entries than part of an overall continuity. By contrast; The Great Ace Attorney instead takes the opposite approach. Each case introduces important elements that pay off in the duology's climax; and Ryunosuke, Susato, Sholmes and Iris' development as characters during each case isn't only maintained through each case, but each game as well. Fans of the series will note this was something sorely lacking for Apollo Justice, for whom the most formative moments of his backstory were summarily ignored with each new sequel.

Naruhodo progressively unravels the web of conspiracy underpinning the British judicial system, each revelation shocking but also deeply personal to both himself and the people surrounding him. These revelations, however, are not kept in a vacuum to only inform the current case. They continually affect the characters and their perceptions through each subsequent case, building upon one another in a rich tapestry of interpersonal dynamics between the cast. Outside of the defense and prosecution, reccuring characters in the Ace Attorney series are normally minimally developed- serving singular purposes with perhaps the chance of a central focus in one or two cases. Great Ace Attorney bucks this trend by giving these characters skin in the game with regards to the overarching plot. Where they would traditionally return to simply give a clue or testimony for another case, they instead have significant ties with the long-term narrative and are given satisfying character arcs and resolutions. Every major character in this game proves to be consistently amazing.

This also creates a dynamic to the two Great Ace Attorney games that was never present for the first six titles. Whereas one can play any of the original Ace Attorney games in any order, Adventures and Resolve are meant to be played in order. They present as a "ten-case game" or a "70-hour Ace Attorney" where a understanding of the first game's events is crucial to the second's. This approach offers the coherency the series really needed after Apollo Justice While you technically do not need knowledge of the first game to play through the second, it is impossible to fully appreciate it. While this may be imposing to many, it is worth the heavy time investment. The payoffs are huge, worthy of the various pedigrees upon which this game built its foundation.