Dirge of Cerberus - Final Fantasy VII

The strangest thing about this game is who it chose to build around. Vincent Valentine was an optional, brooding party member in the original Final Fantasy VII, a man in a cloak who barely spoke. Square Enix took him, handed him a pistol, and made him the lead in a third-person shooter. That was a gamble on a cult favorite, and it explains both the game's appeal and its trouble.

The story picks up three years after Advent Children's timeline begins to settle, with a military group called Deepground emerging to threaten the world, and Vincent pulled into it because of his past with Hojo and Lucrecia. Fans who wanted his backstory got real answers. Newcomers get a great deal of unexplained lore delivered in cutscenes that assume you have done the homework. The tone is melodramatic, the dialogue is stiff, and the plot leans on the series' habit of grand, tangled mythology.

The play itself is a more modest matter. Vincent shoots from behind the shoulder, with a lock-on that does much of the aiming, and you can swap between handgun, rifle and heavier barrels by fitting modifications to your weapon. There are light role-playing touches: experience, upgrades, and items to find. Levels are mostly linear corridors with waves of soldiers, and the pacing sags when encounters repeat. Aiming on a controller was never going to be elegant here, and the game does not hide it. The transformation into a monstrous form is a nice break, though it feels more like a power switch than a mechanic.

The game was released in 2006 and did not win over critics, who found the controls clumsy and the structure stale next to the shooters of the time. It was also a Japanese release that tried to marry two audiences and pleased neither fully. Yet it has a certain commitment. The music, the character design and the sheer determination to expand a beloved world give it personality that better-controlled shooters often lack.

Played today, it is a curiosity for people who care about the franchise, and a rough ride for anyone who does not. It is clumsy, earnest and oddly sincere, and that sincerity is the reason it is still remembered.