BETA
This is a BETA experience. You may opt-out by clicking here

More From Forbes

Edit Story

In Our Sci-Fi Dystopia Of 2020, ‘Final Fantasy VII’ Feels More Timely Than Ever

Following
This article is more than 3 years old.

A pandemic sweeps across the planet, exposing the cracks in our institutions, while in the background, the climate catastrophe slowly simmers. 

I don’t know about you, but the ever-escalating insanity of the news cycle, combined with the relentless boredom of quarantine, has pushed me away from prestigious, intellectually stimulating television and towards the comfort of nostalgia. 

I have returned to a childhood obsession, Final Fantasy VII, with its horribly outdated graphics (my son assumed I was playing a Lego game) and randomized battle system, just as annoying and intrusive as ever. The gameplay, however, still holds up, being varied and inventive, while the story has never felt so relevant.  

The long-awaited remake is soon to be released, so thousands of gamers are about to be immersed in the struggles of a sullen super-soldier known as Cloud Strife, a sci-fi-soap opera that covers environmental catastrophe, an evil corporation, selective amnesia, a love triangle, a fabulously flamboyant supervillain, and of course, a mismatched group of misfits who form a deep friendship in the face of adversity. 

So, if you haven’t played the original game, or the remake - spoilers ahead

The opening scene of Final Fantasy VII wastes no time, the very first mission being an act of eco-terrorism, a wonderful piece of world-building that establishes the central conflict between humanity and the planet, communicating the scale of environmental catastrophe that this world faces, along with the desperation of the protagonists. 

Mako, the game’s magical metaphor for fossil fuel, is the glowy-green substance that provides power, and helps enforce the brutal class hierarchy laid out in the physical structure of the city of Midgar. 

Initially, the protagonists of Final Fantasy VII are battling against the establishment, a behemothic mega-corporation known as Shinra, who are harvesting the Mako out of the planet in a short-sighted bid to keep profits flowing. 

Later, the game takes a turn into New Age spiritualism, as we learn that Mako is literal life-energy, formed from the combined souls of all the planet’s deceased creatures. Moreover, the planet itself is a living organism, slowly being bled out by the greed of Shinra, mass-extinction right around the corner. 

Sure, this sounds like the rantings of a hot-yoga addict who just ingested a fistful of fungi with their matcha latte, but it’s a cute introduction to the Gaia theory, and the metaphor isn’t particularly far removed from our foolhardy attempt to mine every ounce of profit from our planet, slowly cooking ourselves in the process. 

But Shinra is soon revealed to be the lesser of two evils, as the real antagonist, the magnificently melodramatic Sephiroth, uncovers the sad fate of an ancient, extinct race of people known as the Cetra, and like every irritating white person with a drop of indigenous DNA, decides that his identity now revolves around his questionable ancestry.

Sephiroth reckons that the best way to heal the wounds of genocide, is with more genocide, and plans to exterminate mankind by summoning a meteor, putting a permanent end to the path of environmental destruction.

Thus, Cloud and his friends are forced to face their own philosophy, taken to its most extreme conclusion in the form of eco-fascism. But Cloud has been suppressing an important part of his identity this entire time, and becomes trapped inside his own head, finally facing the consequences of emotional repression. Sephiroth, meanwhile, succeeds in summoning said meteor.

This is where I’m currently at in the game, and the dramatic reveal of the meteor still has tremendous emotional weight, despite the janky graphics. This is the lowest point in the story, the player inhabiting a dying world, in which the characters question the point of fighting in the face of overwhelming odds. 

It’s heavy stuff, and feels incredibly relevant to this peculiar point in time. In some sense, it really does feel as though there is a giant meteor hanging over our heads, whether its climate change, economic catastrophe, or the devastating spread of COVID-19. 

Cloud’s emotional journey, his attempt to bury his true identity under a tough-guy persona, underlines the importance of mindfulness, especially during an anxiety-inducing time.

Of course, in Final Fantasy VII, a magical solution presents itself. Like every other game, the world is saved by fighting the final boss, and the evil corporation crumbles, along with the meteor. Fiction offers context, not solutions. 

I don’t know if I’ll bother playing until the end. For now, it’s oddly comforting to soak in the melancholy of Final Fantasy VII’s doomed world, to travel the land, listening to these pixelated NPCs undergo an existential crisis. 

It’s not particularly productive, but if there’s ever been a time to immerse oneself in fiction, it’s quarantine.

Follow me on TwitterCheck out my website