I'm not sure why, but I often take a liking to corny, slapdash, and preposterous stories, particularly when I find them in video games. Call it kitsch worship or train-wreck syndrome, yet it's one of the reasons that I enjoyed Crimson Sea, Koei's attempt to mix the frenetic combat of their Dynasty Warriors series with a few RPG trappings and a story untimely ripped from the guilty pleasures of overblown space opera.
This pulp inspiration is obvious from the first glimpses of Crimson Sea's space-faring scenario, which find the sympathetic, perpetually destitute, and pseudo-Japanese detective Sho in his office, debating his poor finances with his sidekick, an insufferable little chatterbox named Yangqin. Yangqin's yipping is mercifully interrupted, however, when a curvaceous femme fatale walks through Sho's door, throws a job proposal on his desk, introduces herself as Live-D, and explains that she's “a mysterious and sexy woman." Settle in, folks. From this point on, it only gets better. Or worse, depending on your view of rushed and ridiculous sci-fi.
After Sho's first task, Live-D recruits the young man for her mysterious and sexy branch of the Intelligence Agency of the Galaxy, introducing him to the game's remaining cast of stereotypes: Bow Rahn is the cowardly big guy, Kecak is the inconsequential ditz, Shami serves as Sho's cute and sacrificing (and, conveniently, also pseudo-Japanese) love interest, Diez is a savagely independent female mercenary who softens for no discernable reason, Shahanai is Sho's bitter and oddly coiffed rival, and Ekdahl is a legendary soldier too powerful and distant to be benevolent.
Not one of these characters evolves beyond the above simplicities, as Crimson Sea is cliff-notes storytelling at its most primitive, dashing from one thematic point to another and leaping headfirst into nonsensical melodrama. Plot holes and scientific gaffes (how can a harmonic wave travel in space?) are copious, and the game often just gets bored with a scene and switches to something else. It isn't dramatically satisfying in any way, yet it frequently shoots completely past uninspired twaddle and into the realm of priceless humor. If director Kou Shibusawa was out to make a cinematic sci-fi epic, the result is almost a parody of the genre. And for that, I enjoyed it.
Fortunately, strange tastes aren't needed to appreciate the gameplay. Like Dynasty Warriors or Chaos Legion, Crimson Sea explores the art of the melee. Equipped with firearms and a close-range “generator” sword, Sho faces assaults from aliens, resembling Star Wars creatures by way of Final Fantasy X's colorful art direction, that often swarm him hundreds at a time. The game's frequent barrages of foes mean that there's rarely a dull fight. And there's rarely an opportunity to note the semi-spastic camera or the partly sluggish control, which seems closer to the slow turns of Resident Evil than the smooth pace of Dynasty Warriors.
These flaws are further buried by a variety of options. In addition to devising attack patterns for his comrades, Sho can buy, upgrade, and experiment with a variety of standard sci-fi ordnance (shotguns, lasers, chargeable plasma cannons, and so on). Also available for purchase are Sho's supposedly harmonic-based psychic powers, which span the standard range of RPG-style cure and attack spells. Still, they don't seem quite so routine when used to beat back a rush of Zerg-like alien crayfish.
However, Crimson Sea has the sense to offer more than combat. Stages often require some special feat, be it guarding a pompous (and fortunately sturdy) bureaucrat, tracking down enemies within a time limit, or racing against your would-be allies in pursuit of a criminal through the marketplaces and pagodas of a cloud city. It's nothing previously unseen in modern games, but the challenges are plentiful and rarely frustrating, while players are given serious grief only at the game's end. Unless you've spent a few stages powering up a particular type of weapon (hint: THE LASER), the last boss is far too difficult.
Unfairly concluded or not, Crimson Sea cleans up nicely. Alien worlds yield gorgeous scenery, and the enemies are an entertaining mix of references (one is literally half Predator, half Darth Maul). The characters are stylishly rendered as well, from the pratical garb of Sho to the bird-of-paradise look exhibited by Live-D and Shami, who would almost fit in amid a Dynasty Warriors assembly. The cinematic sequences look better than high-caliber CG videos from years ago, and somehow, their sheen makes the storyline seem all the more like a half-scripted Hollywood stab at science fiction.
Granted, storyline seems to be the only aspect of Crimson Sea that wasn't adequately thought-out. The soundtrack is booming, well-composed stuff, and the voice acting is decent, if mixed in its acceptance of the game's preposterous plot. Some of the cast play their parts with due bombast or silliness, but others seem to think that they're in a serious game. Sho's actor puts forth an earnest heroism that's just too straight-faced, while Live-D sounds like a motherly computer instead of the self-promoting sexpot she's clearly supposed to be. Elsewhere, Yangqin's actress has a cartoon brat voice down pat, so it's too bad that the character is one of the most irritating and needless sidekicks in the history of the medium. And for a closing annoyance, none of the performances are credited, though veteran voice actor (and singer) Cam Clarke is clearly Shahanai, and I'd peg Kecak's actress as Wendee Lee.
Crimson Sea may come across as Dynasty Warriors 2099 at first, but it strings together enough engaging ideas to stand on its own. While it doesn't do so with the grace of Devil May Cry and other genre leaders, it's solid stuff. Even for those who don't share my love of unintended humor, Crimson Sea is worth a shot.