Aerith's fate in Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth and the problem with remakes

This piece contains major spoilers for the original Final Fantasy 7 and Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth. Don't read it unless you've finished Rebirth.

It's hard to overstate how iconic Aerith's death was in the original Final Fantasy 7. She may not have been the first main character to die in the series, but due to the immense popularity of the game upon its release, her death certainly carried the greatest significance. impact. Her ripples continue in Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth, the second part of the recently released remake trilogy.

But why was his death so memorable? It is a shocking moment, told simply. It's shocking because a key character that players have come to love is removed; Simple because it is shown with absolute clarity, the music pauses like an inspiration until she collapses and plays the somber piano. It's quietly dramatic and the image of Sephiroth's almost comically long sword piercing through her chest is a must-see. Then, moments later, we snowboarded down a mountain, FF7 style.

A new version of this moment poses a puzzle. How do you recreate it at the same level of shock value? It's impossible and Square Enix knows it. Lightning does not strike twice. If we know it's coming, Aerith's death no longer has any impact.

So, in the spirit of maintaining the impact of the original, the developers' big twist is to create a multiverse to keep us guessing. It serves multiple purposes: it provides a structure to step back and incorporate elements of various derivatives; offers a narrative departure from Aerith's fate to keep us guessing; and allows us to comment on the very nature of what a new version can be, transforming the familiar into something new.

So rebirth is, on some level, a game. about games: a self-referential experience about your own existence. However, in doing so, Square Enix has risked alienating both new and old fans.

This meta-narrative commentary found throughout Rebirth only works entirely with prior knowledge of the original. So it's really ridiculous that Square Enix repeatedly insists that the remake trilogy is welcome for newcomers. It's not! FF7 is already a tangled web of stories across multiple spin-offs that rivals Kingdom Hearts in its stakes. Rather than simply retelling the original, Rebirth incorporates elements from Crisis Core, Ever Crisis, The First Soldier, and Dirge of Cerberus, with possible threads to film the Advent Children sequel. Instead of the remake trilogy offering a definitive experience that encompasses those stories in a singular package, it assumes prior knowledge and takes things a step further into a multiverse. Maybe a step too far.

As a fan of the series, I can appreciate the desire to incorporate elements outside of the original. I can also appreciate the meta-narrative commentary as a clever self-referential twist: in short, Remake sees the characters cheat in-game fate to forge a new destiny, just as the developers hint at possible changes a remake could bring. This idea ultimately fails as Rebirth's central plot barely deviates from the original. Instead of fully committing to change, it straddles the line between old and new before clumsily delivering a strange ending that raises more questions than it answers.

The real sticking point, however, is Aerith's death. No longer the simple, shocking moment of the original, but the unnerving climax of an intricate guessing game of a story obsessed with the very notion of her death. Even before the game was released, Square Enix was desperate for its fate not to be leaked; then the opening of the game mirrors her death in the original, playing with us from the beginning.

When the big moment finally arrives, we see Aerith killed but also saved; dead but also alive. It's a shifting quagmire of multiple worlds, timelines, and interpretations that robs the moment of its emotional value. Forget Sephiroth, ambiguity is the real killer in Rebirth.

I can understand the desire to keep players guessing. After all, how many players gave up on Aerith in reruns of the original so as not to waste time on her before her demise? I know I'm guilty of that. I also applaud Square Enix for trying something new with their multiverse story, even though a remake of the original in a single game would have sufficed and probably sold well. What's more, I have no doubt that Aerith will continue to play an important role in Reunion or whatever the third game is called. Maybe she even receives a proper death in some kind of final sacrificial moment.

For Rebirth, however, the result of all this complexity is a cloying, saccharine conclusion to an exceptional game that undermines the wonderful character work leading up to this point. Rebirth excels at its individual character episodes, but the overall narrative and ending evangelizes Aerith, elevating her above the others. The game is an ensemble piece, but it all depends on its destiny.

Plus, I can't help but feel cynical about the developers spending most of Rebirth manipulating and confusing our expectations. Because? First, accept the very nature of a remake, but also literally buy three games. Aerith's death in the original has clear implications for the story: Sephiroth's malice needs to be proven. In Rebirth it is less clear and seems to occur here only because has to reflect the original. Here Aerith's death is only significant in her relationship to the original game. Adding ambiguity to that feels more like a business decision than a narrative one.

I honestly love Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth, as I explained in detail in my review. I played around with that piece and its score, but ultimately decided that the end of the game didn't ruin the experience. I love his joy, his warmth and tenderness, his deep characterization, his wonderful card game. As a new take on a beloved classic, it offers fans the chance to experience the familiar all over again. That, really, is the reason for a new version and an amazing achievement beyond others that settle for a coat of paint.

However, tinkering with Aerith's fate underscores a central problem with remakes, and the same problem that Rebirth's metanarrative reflects: how can retelling a familiar story feel surprising? By leaning too far into convolution, Rebirth ultimately leaves us with question marks instead of tears.