★★★★☆ (4/5)
"Hayao Miyazaki's Microsoft Flight Simulator."
I have long heard the tales that the Ace Combat franchise has a "weirdly good story" but the plane-game of it all frightened me off time and again. To my layman eyes, there was no difference between it and Microsoft flight simulator. Since, I have come to learn that Ace Combat is closer to Daytona USA than it could ever be a "simulator" and that it does indeed have a story that is "weirdly good."
Like all media that hits for me, I cannot allow it to stand as just "weirdly good". It necessitates a vibe. An ethos. It's an amalgamation of meta-text, tone and intention. Ace Combat 04: Shattered Skies is an entry in a then-biennial Namco fighter jet arcade franchise. It's something of a spiritual reboot for the series in the west. It should stand in defiance of "having anything to say," but it doesn't. Instead, It's submerged in an ocean of melancholy. It's soundtrack delivered through introspective Spanish guitars atop a soundscape of summer cicadas. It's cutscenes are beautifully painted pastorals.
Hundreds of it's contemporary war video games trivialize atrocities. Often, they do so with the expressed intention to white-wash actions perpetrated by those who caused them. Occasionally, they do so with their direct financial support. But that particular war-machine had only just began to rev-up when Ace Combat 4 released just two days following the September 11th terror attacks in 2001. That machine only grew and festered. Yesterday as of my writing my country continued it's series of violent regime changes throughout the world by carpet bombing a sovereign nation with the same machines Ace Combat glorifies.
By contrast, Ace Combat's universe is dubbed "strangereal" - an alternate Earth where humanities countries and borders were drawn differently. Continents stand where oceans were, and oceans where continents. Nevertheless the almighty alter of capital entwines nations in meaningless and cruel conflict time and again.
Ace Combat 04: Shattered Skies details a particular war - the "2003 Continental War" fought between the Federal Republic of Erusea and the Independent State Allied Forces (ISAF). The seeds of this war, like many others, are planted in finance. A natural disaster leads to market downturn and a refugee crises. One state becomes increasingly nationalistic. Eventually, they launch invasions to occupy territory that isn't theirs.
Shattered Skies is a game of two protagonists. One, the player controls. A silent ace pilot dubbed "Mobius 1" who may be the coolest best pilot to have ever lived. The other - a non-controllable, nameless, boy living in the foreign-occupied capital of San Salvacion. The boy tells players in his own words that he found a home amongst the comradarie of his oppressors. Erusean pilots visit the bar he lives in and take him in as a member of their squad. He grows to understand them and respect their abilities. But ultimately, he can't escape that they are "fascist pigs."
In giving us this dual perspective we see clearly both sides to the conflict. That both Erusea's Yellow Squadron and ISAF's Mobius Squadron are the same. They have names. In later mission, they yell them as you blow them apart. They all yearn for accolades - to be the best, the most efficient. To "earn my ace wings!" your friendly NPC companions repeatedly say.
Lesser games would have forgone the boy's perspective entirely. It does nothing but grind cognitive dissonance into the player's skull. From Mobius 1's perspective, we have regular Call of Duty. You pilot your way through the ranks, deftly out-maneuvering your opponents to become the stuff of legends. As the game progresses, your inter-pilot comms become more about how cool you are. How you're "taking all the glory." At the end of the final mission, a friendly pilot labeled "FRIEND.G" asks, "So did we win the war?" to which mission control responds "I don't know (...) But there's one thing I can say for certain. Heroes really do exist. We've just seen one, and now he's coming home." That's you, man. You're the coolest.
Instead - Ace Combat 4 doesn't do this. It zooms out to the bigger picture by providing this extra context. It subtly casts doubt on the "goodness" of ISAF's actions and the "badness" of Eureseas. The nameless boy grows closer with his occupying force to learn of the best Yellow pilot's yearning for a "worthy opponent." In the final moments of the game, the boy writes to Mobius 1 that he hopes their rivalry brought him "an unexpected joy, [...] at the end of that meaningless war."
Like a lot of Japanese media re-contextualizing it's history of war two major themes are as apparent here as they are in something like Studio Ghibli's "The Wind Rises." In efficiency and industry their is a sort of tragic beauty. These machines are marvels, their pilots magicians. That machinations beyond any of our control will continue to send us to fight and to die. Amongst this nihilism lies too something truly awe-inspiring.
Shattered Skies is a tight 18 missions of arcade fun. It's last two missions especially pack an incredible tonal one-two punch. Now at the end of the war - Mission 17: "Siege of Farbanti" - is a time-attack score mission that feels like a victory lap. The score swells as you in your souped-up top of the line F-15 dance around the city destroying targets. As the mission finishes, you clash with the squadron occupying the boys city and you kill them all.
Then, you step into the world of a different video game. The pulsing electronica of the mission-select screen falls silent. Patriotic propaganda blares from loudspeakers as you pursue your collection. The Erusean's reveal a dooms-day-world-ending super weapon that can only be defeated by flying through its exhaust ports Star Wars style. For the first time, an Ace Combat score erupts into a Latin choir. Mission control quips about you that "Heroes really do exist." Your skies are filled with hellfire as debris rain from above. The entire mission feels out of place - like it was added in a rush following the September 11th attacks to give a less ambiguous ending to Mobius 1's story.
But what is so fascinating to me about this game is that the rest of it is still there. It isn't any less ambiguous. If anything, it's moreso. What just transpired was truly incredible and tragic in equal measure. Ace Combat fans reference the PS2 games as a sort of trilogy told in a series of arcs with AC4 being just the beginning of what is in store. As whispered refrains of "bright blue skies, giving me so much hope..." ring earnestly between my ears as the credits roll, I am beyond excited to see what else this franchise has to offer.