FRONT MISSION
on its face front mission gives the appearance of significant complexity: upwards of fifteen(+) units, each needing to be fitted with their own modular mech, including arms, legs, bodies, weapons, computer units, and backpacks, in addition to a variety of weapon sub-types, hidden affinities, and opaque skill unlock requirements
in effect, however, much of this complexity’s entirely cosmetic; less armored core than the gated and tiered upgrade systems of early dragon quest or final fantasy split into a far larger variety of parts to present the appearance of greater choice and nuance. you get all the tinkering in the world without any of the consequences or strategic requirements behind it. the pleasure of jacking in a new arm or shoulder mounted cannon without having to do more than the bare minimum to ensure it’s a functional upgrade. it’s complexity-as-aesthetic, and, while illusory, it compliments the experience in a way a more transparent approach to itemization, progress gating, etc. might not, capturing the essential spirit of the genre’s more gear-headed qualities without the complications they’d undoubtedly invite
it could be said that the game’s informally split between two halves: the first takes place across the first third or so of the campaign where you have very little in the way of gear, no skills, and the combat is excessively reliant on random factors due to the inability to manually target individual parts to deal direct damage (body) or disarm (arms). it’s hard to describe this portion of the game as either strategic or tactical beyond the broadest sense of target prioritization that you’d see in virtually any turn based title that allows it: positioning isn’t entirely irrelevant, but it’s never as important as simply showing up and having the dice roll smoothly
the second begins after you start consistently unlocking passive skills, particularly those that let you manually target parts and attack several times per turn. while the game undoubtedly becomes more involved due to greater deterministic control, that involvement’s offset by the transition from casino wishcasting to foregone conclusion as single units carve through the better parts of armies
this escalation largely sustains itself through inertia. the only way to find yourself significantly off course would be to spread characters too thin or, if I understand the affinity system correctly, play them explicitly against type. to adhere to each character’s intended build is more than enough to play the game correctly, and to play the game correctly is to shatter its jaw in lockstep with narrative momentum. there is a curve here, clearly, but one that’s deliberately constructed along a very narrow, foolproof path. you struggle when intended, succeed when intended, and overwhelm when intended, all in service to spectacle
on this end it’s nothing less than a clear success. it looks fabulous, it sounds fabulous, and the ongoing damage each army incurs as battles unfold is about as striking a blend of aesthetic and mechanical storytelling as it gets. even at its least demanding it is nothing if not expertly crafted frontline theatre. less a tactical rpg than the re-enactment of one: full metal pageantry driven by mangled limbs, smoldering shells, and dramatic camera angles
it’s an excellent example of the mileage provided by using aesthetic and conceptual strengths to embellish the roles typically maintained by mechanics. much as resident evil 2 most often employed the tyrant in rooms you were about to leave and far cry 2’s malaria was staved off simply by adhering to your standard quests, it is the suggestion of presence that carries the greatest weight, not the material reality. almost the entire survival horror genre thrives on this: the obfuscation of localized inventory limits being a veil for broader resource management that almost always favours the player over the horde. seeing is believing, and often what’s real comes distant second to what’s real enough
curious then that front mission 2 takes a turn toward the concrete due to the introduction of universal action points and weight trade-offs where nearly every action’s drawn from the same resource pool (including movement & counter-attacks) and heavier gear pulverizes your mobility. it’s said to be the most difficult game in the series, verging on horror at times due to the necessities of running lighter, flimsier wanzers, and one can also imagine it to be quite intricate: all the smoke and mirrors propping up its predecessor’s mech fantasy exchanged for the need to constantly tweak and alter a dozen units to maximum efficiency. such a cold shower intrigues me, and I’d love to be able to weigh in on this further, but alas.. finding out whether reality lives up to the legend will have to wait until another day. look forward to when that day comes