Not even one game later, and we arrive at the embryonic stage of Kingdom Hearts' ultimate folly: "bridge" games released across multiple platforms. The Disney/Square-Enix saga was not to continue just through numbered mainline entries, but through what series director Tetsuya Nomura described as games that would "bridge" -- or rather, set the stage for -- said numbered entries together. Kooky executive antics and Nomura's own over-ambition would eventually drive this direction out of control, as evidenced by the fact it's been twelve years since Kingdom Hearts II first launched in Japan and we've only just recently received a tentative date for the long-awaited third entry.
But we'll get to that mess when it comes. Really, what I want to talk about is how undeserving Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories -- the first of these bridge games, which arrived on Game Boy Advance in 2004 -- is of this blame, for I daresay it is perhaps the very finest title under the Kingdom Hearts banner. Not because it possesses the very highest highs of the series -- although quite a few are present here -- but rather in how it is the most consistent: what we have here is a game that not only recognizes its purpose, but is aware of its limitations and tries its damnedest to work around them to provide one of the most compelling JRPGs on the platform.
Let us be frank: there is no way you can fully emulate the original Kingdom Hearts experience on Game Boy Advance. We could, as Chain of Memories proves, simply reduce it to the hack-and-slash many were addicted to on PS2, but Kingdom Hearts is not a 2D beat-'em-up in the vein of Final Fight. None of the depth in the absence of 3D environments would be present, and with the emphasis on "worlds" and whatnot, something would certainly feel missing.
In response, Nomura and developer Jupiter come up with an unexpected solution: cards, or rather, the use of cards in a real-time setting. Every action in battle -- be they Keyblade attacks, magic, items and summons -- utilizes a card from your deck, and every one is designated with a number. The higher the number, the less likely enemies will cancel your attack with a higher-level card of their own.
With all the options provided, there's a sustainable amount of depth to be worked around here. No longer can you just get by on button-mashing here; you have to think about the cards to use. Do you combine your cards to unleash a Sleight attack, or use 0 cards to instantly break through the enemy's defense? Whatever you do, don't go overboard with the latter: 0 cards may technically be the strongest, but they'll instantly falter at any higher number card.
Let it be known this is the only Kingdom Hearts game framing its battles within 2D (or, at the very least, operating within limited movement); while the advances in technology for DS and PSP render the reason why obvious, it's stellar how well Square and Jupiter accommodated the 2D plane. None of the camera hijinks that may've plagued the first game are present, as Keyblade swings, magic and summons are automatically directed towards your foes rather than manually aimed (supposing you're facing the right direction, of course, but that's not too much trouble) which is why everyone's favorite card tactic is to constantly summon Cloud from Final Fantasy VII and watch him wreck fools with the Buster Sword.
We could elaborate on how the limited space leads to tense face-offs, but Chain of Memories doesn't forget to apply it elsewhere. For instance, you can't just jam in all your cards in the deck at once: there's a numbered limit that grows whenever you level up, so you construct your burgeoning deck around that. All sorts of enticing cards are nabbed throughout, it's a meticulous process as you decide (in fact, you can forge up to three decks for specific situations such as boss fights, although I've only ever been able to main one).
Indeed, even the world map plays into it: each world creates rooms based on the map cards you possess, be it making your attack cards stronger, rendering the Heartless swarming or asleep, or simply creating a save point. Even when considering how doors often require certain numbers or colors, this allows players to create their own sense of progression and planning; for instance, why not reward myself with a treasure room, or fight for it by having it guarded by Heartless? And even with the reduced number of things to *do* in the world, that doesn't mean it doesn't play into our habits: Moogle Points (currency for cards) and Health Points are hidden throughout each room, and often you'll find yourself dodging Heartless as you smash and jump upon every object in sight to lap up each and every one.
You may be thinking, "well, how does this whole card thing fit into the narrative?" Not particularly well; in fact, it's probably the most convoluted part of the story. It's never quite explained why Castle Oblivion, the mysterious memory-based fortress Sora and co. explore, has to function around cards, and that's not even getting around to the plot holes surround the theme of forgetting memories, mainly surrounding the illusory Disney worlds recalled from the first game (barring Tarzan, which was likely due to legal issues with the Edgar Rice Burroughs estate).
And yet even putting that aside, it's easily the best-written script in the entire series. Unlike the first game's awkward ratio of low-quality prose to fully-animated (albeit still clunky) cutscenes, that it's based entirety in text means there's no excuse to dump base dialogue upon us; in other words, every line of dialogue must be of the same quality. Given the innate interpretation of sprite animation means none of the aforementioned clunkiness impedes our critical eyes, and our engagement soars.
Regardless of any faults in Chain of Memories' "bridge game" identity, there's no denying its narrative strength as a mystery. With the stakes set within the foreboding halls of Castle Oblivion -- Sora and co.'s abilities are instantly forgotten the moment they step in, and gradually their memories as well -- and the claustrophobic tension becomes ever more palpable, with betrayal and manipulation at the hands of Organization XII (or, as they're initially localized here, "The Organization"). The black-hooded villains that further antagonize Sora throughout his later adventures, their presence in Chain of Memories remains their best appearance: they are clearly not a group united for one purpose, as their motives peel away to reveal conspiracies, treason and political struggles for power (Axel being by far the most interesting of the six members introduced, as his solitary agenda remains an enticing hook for Kingdom Hearts 2).
Does Chain of Memories make the same mistake of diminishing the Disney presence? Yes -- none of the illusion worlds further the plot in any capacity -- and yet despite that, it's the one entry where it properly balances that nebulous blend of Disney magic and brooding Final Fantasy philosophy the series so constantly strives to achieve. It may be they are the reprieve we need from the suffocating animosity that plagues Castle Oblivion, but even while illusion Peter Pan's still kind of a dick, that even his tale ends on childhood memories means they, too, tie into the themes of memories and recollection. (That, and well, I can't help but praise how Jiminy Cricket, the royal chronicler who typically languishes in the background, actually maintains his own presence)
It helps the character portraits for each cameo are expertly detailed, although I struggle saying that when the case of Winnie the Pooh's Rabbit exists: his ghastly expressions echoing that of a reanimated corpse have never ceased in spooking the hell out of me, and they're perhaps the worst of his physically-apparent morbid neurosis that Square-Enix cannot seem to part with.
Of course, Yoko Shimomura arrives to help things along. Much of the game consists of 16-bit reprises of the original game's Disney world themes, but what is new supplements the "mystery" theme impeccably well: the bells of Castle Oblivion continue to ring in my head, their dark and foreboding call threatening to swallow my conscious whole. Meanwhile, the game's teaser for Kingdom Hearts 2's Twilight Town gives our first introduction to Lazy Afternoons and Sinister Sundown: the former a perfect encapsulation of a long-gone youth, the latter exuding an ethereal nostalgia that reminds me of Donkey Kong Country's famous Aquatic Ambiance.
I must, however, hail my favorites as a pair that play within cutscenes. Naminé's theme is a piano lament that captures us in its wordless debut, the pitiable melancholy exuding through every key stroke. However, it's La Pace that truly tugs at my heartstrings -- music boxes never fail to elicit emotion from me, and here it often closes the book in a heartwarming manner, namely in my two favorite sequences: the endings for the Peter Pan and Winnie the Pooh scenarios.
I should note Chain of Memories' technological achievements: that it compressed PS2-quality 3D cutscenes is is a stunner from the get go, but Simple and Clean, the localized Hikaru Utada song we first witnessed back on PS2 and hear here for the credits, sounds nearly as crisp here as it did on TV, and it never ceases to wow me. Whatever the wizardly involved, I just wish that same creativity was into making the 100 Acre Wood an entertaining romp; in its deviation from the map card system, its assortment of unintuitive puzzles is never not frustrating).
Regardless, I am aware stating Chain of Memories is the best Kingdom Hearts is an uncommon opinion. This is hardly new territory for me -- you're reading the ramblings of a man whose finest Pokémon memories lie within Ruby and Sapphire -- but it's never not astonishing to me how what's supposed to be an appetizer breaks free of its bounds and flourishes as an overly-solid title all on its own. That the further bridge games fluctuated in such quality or even relevance is a testament to its worth, one that I hope the mainline series will achieve and eventually maintain.
Oh, and one more observation: given Kingdom Hearts' collection of licenses, it is not uncommon to witness a list of their respective copyrights before the games start, but in the case of Chain of Memories, it has never made much sense to me why the Peter Pan characters are singled out. Unlike Tarzan, the property is under no legal entanglements that I am aware of, and it's even more odd Wendy is the lone absence from this citation. This is present even within the PS2 remake, and I have yet to decipher any reason why this is. Not that this matters in the slightest, but such is the life of us nitpicky game historians.
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