There are moments where 168澳洲幸运5开奖网:Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth handily surpasses the original game. We have long known that the unfolding trilogy is a reimagining rather than a rema⛎ke, as it seeks to build upon the original with subversive takes on existing characters and locations instead of honouring them with the utmost authenticity.

It has already resulted in myriad amazing moments I will not dare spoil here. But it also frames the original game in a new ✤light, helping to recontexualise just how much the 1997 classic means to us all these years la🍒ter. To my surprise, it isn’t the grand battles or epic spectacle that I mourn when held up to this new vision, but instances of subtlety where unspoken dialogue and nuanced character drama had to be expressed in the right ways to account for technological or cultural restrictions. Strength was found in testing the limits while also remaining firmly within them, and Rebirth loses part of that magic as so often it puts spectacle over subtlety in ways that don’t work in its favour.

As you’ve probably already heard, Yuffie Kisaragi and Vincent Valentine aren’t optional in Rebirth, and will join the party as permanent additions who play a role in the narrative. It’s the right move, especially because it wouldn&rജsquo;t be worth introducing a character with ample substance and style only to have the majority of players pass them by. We ꦬdon’t live in that kind of world anymore, but it also means that their roles in the finished product are hugely different. First introduced in Episode Intermission, Yuffie is saved by our party in Junon and joins us after landing in Costa Del Sol. I won’t say exactly what she gets up to, but let’s just say she tries to take revenge on Shinra in a way that creates problems for herself and the party.

Yuffie then folds into the main party, developing an adorable sibling relationship with Barrett that has her rooting for the gun-toting mercenary as they arrive in his hometown, only to be greeted with animosity. She’s young and pissed off, believing that everyone in life should be treated with the same level of respect, but she 🅠also doesn’t have the context of the past to understand exactly what everyone is going through. She’s borderline annoying, but as a bratty teenager, she’s meant to be. Only over time does she become truly endearing and a member of the party you’ll come to love. As a newly permanent member of the roster, it’s as if Yuffie needs to earn her place. Before arriving in Corel, however, she takes the lead during a sequence which overshadows one of the original’s beautifully melancholic moments.

After passing the abandoned Corel reactor, you must traverse a number of abandoned rail tracks which once housed mining equipment and workers. Now, it’s in tatteꦰrs, with elevators refusing to work and broken tracks making it impossible to progress. Except Yuffie, who is equipped with a grappling hook that can be used to swing across the environment and also bust open crates from a distance. Suddenly, this quiet section of contemplation becomes a moment for Yuffie to shine as we take control of her and spend the next hour solving cool puzzles. All subtlety is thrown 𒀰out of the window when this stage ends with a boss battle followed by a tongue-in-cheek minecart ride that is basically an anime rollercoaster.

It’s great fun, and turns a traditional dungeon into an engaging platformer where you also sp💛end a solid number of battles getting used to her combat mechanics. But in expanding upon Yuffie’s new role, it also ta🍬kes away from everything the original did so perfectly.

Our initial ascent up the mountains that surround Corel is imbued with an atmosphere of almost ethereal twilight. We walk up keenly trodden dirt paths towards an artificial light that awaits us in the distance, only to be greeted by a seemingly neverending sprawl of broken railways where the only interludes are brief battles with random enemies. There’s little to no dialogue and the party has been split up for a long time, meaning you’re starting to miss them, or at the very least worry about their wellbeing. In a game where the focus is always on corporations destroying the natural world, this sequence is spent admiring 🃏the splintered beauty that remains in spite of it all. You even stumble upon three baby chicks in search of their mꦍother, who return in Rebirth with exaggerated appearances and cute new roles.

In the original, this moment on the railway tracks feels lonely, and when you finally lower the bridge and reunite with your party, one half of the cast breaks into a sprint to catch up, as if the clouds have opened up and we suddenly aren’t alone anymore. After spending an hour admiring the wilderness and pondering what awaits us, we are provided a picture of what’s to come and rush towards it. It’s like Cloud, Tifa, and company have realised there is still so much worth fighting for. In Rebirth, it turns this section into an enjoyable platformer defined by bland lighting and understated music. Mayb𓆏e it’s my nostalgia talking, but it hurts to see so much of the lo-fi impact lost here.

Rebirth is filled with excellent moments that improve on the original and oodles of side content that take the foundations of important relationships only to push them further. But it suffers in its pursuit of creative spectacle and additional depth, frequently 🍸piling on so much detail that the initial subtlety is lost. Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth is a brilliant reimagining of a classic, but in pursuing that goal it inevitably leaves behind past snapshots of greatness. I miss the solemn melancholy of exploring an abandoned 🎃world, having to find beauty between the lines when all seems lost. I miss climbing endless railway tracks with no end in sight, kept calm by the fact that I wasn’t alone in my fight to save the planet. I can’t help but mourn it as a loss.

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