April 11, 2019

Let’s discuss Devil May Cry V (Part 3).

Vergil: Why do you refuse to gain power?  The power of our father, Sparda?

Dante: Father?  *laughs*  I don’t have a father.  I just don’t like you, that’s all.

Dante’s lines in that exchange have bothered me for more than a decade.  I’ve gone over them in my head, over and over again.  Like, okay, I see what the script was going for; Dante (to his detriment) was willing to act like his heritage didn’t matter, and made it up that cursed tower solely to beat his brother.  But the way it plays out, those two sentences together have no relation to one another, and it’s jarring enough to make my brain ache.  There have to be smoother ways to show Dante’s disdain for his bloodline -- maybe something like “Who cares about him?  I’m here to party with you.”  Anything.

Given the context of the franchise, Devil May Cry has always courted weirdness and camp.  In 3, our hero’s quest for fratricide is in the same space as pretending he’s Bruce Lee.  In 4, the hero who lost his girlfriend to a pack of self-righteous zealots can play air guitar after pile-driving demons.  And in V?  The story briefly hits the pause button to turn a devil hunter into the King of Pop.

I don’t know how many people are willing to call the story of Devil May Cry V good.  But, against all odds, at least I’m one of them.

Insert Capcom jingle here.
Also, SPOILER warning.


I’ll be real, though.  Even if I do think that DMCV has a good story, it’s not flawless.  Nor is it high art.  Like DMC4 before it, the story that’s being told here is relatively simple: there’s a big demon and a bigger evil tree mucking things up, so our crew of pro demon slayers has to go sort it out.  The flourishes and dynamics help fill out the skeleton, for sure, but I doubt anyone who ventures in will get absolutely blown away -- especially since getting max enjoyment out of the story means having deep respect for/attachment to the franchise lore.  

Newcomers?  You can enjoy what’s here, but DMCV is as much an elbow to the ribs going “Remember this?” on an infinite loop as it is a return to the original storyline.  Nostalgia-bait is going full blast here.


There are some lines here and there that don’t really fit, just like the one I mentioned above.  (Nero, why would you call V an “interesting guy” instead of the weirdo that he is?  You’ve had much harsher words toward friends, enemies, comrades, and strangers.)  But whatever.  Probably my biggest gripe is one that I alluded to a while back: Trish and Lady get sandbagged pretty hard in this game.  Despite being competent fighters in their own right, most of the time they’re relegated to hanging out in the DMCmobile -- save for when they’re trapped inside demons and have to be rescued.  Complete with just-censored-enough shots of them in their birthday suits.

The mitigating factor here (I hope) is that there’s going to be DLC that gives players full control of the ladies.  If there isn’t, then DMCV is going to be yet another game where the ladies get shafted (phrasing.jpg).  Trish and Lady get it bad, but Kyrie doesn’t even get a character model, Eva’s only there for one scene, and rumors about DMC2’s Lucia showing up are deader than dead for now.  Nico’s the clear winner here as a support character, which helps.  What would help more is making her playable later on, though.  Capcom, can we get a playable Nico where her DT has her summon the van?  That’d be swell.



I have more nice things to say about the game’s story than mean things, but there is one aspect of DMCV that surprised me: the structure.  There’s probably an alternate universe version of this game where it plays out like one of the Sonic Adventure titles: play through as one character, complete his segment of the interwoven story, then do the same for the other two until you unlock the final, true story and (narrative-wise) use all three in tandem.  As-is?  Nero takes up a decent-sized chunk of the first half, Dante the second, and V gets sprinkled throughout…though given that he’s effectively dying well before the credits roll, his “story” gets cut short.

What a way to go about it, huh?  I would have guessed that Nero would be the definitive main character from start to finish, with Dante and V as backup (just look at the box art!).  But once Dante becomes playable -- and shortly after, gains access to a new power that puts him well above Nero -- the son of Sparda pretty much steals the spotlight.  So much so that Nero being “dead weight” almost becomes a fulfilled prophecy; on your first run, Dante’s crack at the last boss is the real final battle, while Nero’s turn afterward is basically the victory lap.


I’m okay with that setup though, and not just because I’m a Dante boy who spent the first half of the game itching for my chance to go ham with Balrog.  DMCV actually manages to do some smart things with its story -- moves that, while obvious, go completely unnoticed by plenty of other big productions (*stares daggers at multiple Squeenix games*).  

It’s true that the stakes here are higher than they’ve ever been, with a scale that’s much bigger than some random island, a barely-explored city, or an off-the-radar town of devout Sparda fans.  If nothing else, the game immediately establishes a threat in Urizen, someone who whoops everyone handily and makes you realize that this guy is a big problem.


That all said?  The cleverness of DMCV doesn’t come from upping the scale of its conflict.  That’s just the mask it’s wearing.  In reality, the conflict’s scale is stunningly small.  Personal.  Introspective at points, even -- if you can believe that.  It doesn’t try to have a big message about real-world topics, or current events, or any of that.  It’s largely interested in telling the story of these characters, and anyone who happens to enjoy what plays out as it spins its yarn is more or less a happy coincidence.

Taken as-is, DMCV tells a story that’s fine-tuned, and perfect, for DMCV.  It’s about family, the ties that bind, responsibility, and power.  Especially power.  The awe in the face of it.  The frustration from the lack of it.  The quest to obtain it.  The desire to wield it.  The corruption from lusting after it.  All power, all the time -- ironic, given that the three playable characters have powers that nearly rival the gods.  But then again, that’s part of the brilliance of this game.

It’s no wonder Vergil’s back.  The devs took all of the memes surrounding his “might controls everything” mantra, spun it into a story, and rolled with it as far as they could.  And the craziest part?  It works.


Nero takes being called “dead weight” way more personally than I would have guessed at first -- so much so that he remembers the insult weeks later.  Of course, it’s consistent with (and helps flesh out) his character.  This is a guy who wanted power whenever and however he could get it to protect the people precious to him (Kyrie), and for the longest time thought he had it.  Between his first loss to Urizen, his stolen arm, and Red Grave falling prey to the Qliphoth, getting told off by Dante wounds him more than a 3-story-tall demon ever could.

Now that we’ve gotten official, in-game confirmation that Nero is Vergil’s son, it makes his relationship with power even more stark.  And ominous.  Despite his cool demeanor, Vergil’s actually something of a petty manchild -- someone who’s greedy and gluttonous, and can never be satisfied with what he has.  On top of that, the elder Sparda son is petty enough to hold a grudge over the most trivial of things, chief among them a loss to his brother, Wacky Wahoo Pizza Man.  

It’s not hard to imagine a version of Nero who follows in his father’s footsteps and does a frog splash off the slippery slope.  If not for the presence of Kyrie and the memories of Credo, there’s a chance that he could become a worse monster than Mundus, Arkham, Sanctus, or even dear ol’ dad.  Luckily, he has that streak of righteousness in him, an earnest desire to use power wisely instead of amassing it to win a grudge match.  Or, in Urizen’s case, just ‘cause.



Part of what makes DMCV work is that, even if the game is built on -- and exists mostly to deliver -- over-the-top action, there’s an emotional core here.  Work has been put on to make its characters more than just avatars for thrills and racking up points.  Dare I say it, they’re fleshed out.  They’re more than sketches or masses of tropes.  The battle with Urizen, their toughest foe yet, fores them to take a long, hard look at themselves.

This is overwhelmingly true of Dante.  He’ll be remembered for years to come for his MJ antics, but I hope that gamers learn to look past that -- if only for, like, five minutes tops -- and recognize that there’s more to him than goofy antics.  Case in point: I can’t prove it conclusively, but I’d like to think that Dante calling Nero dead weight was a way for him to project his own insecurities on others.  He got whooped just as hard as Nero did -- and harder, considering that his trusty sword Rebellion gets shattered -- and I’d like to think that he’s more lost than his nephew could ever be.

As far as I know, the start of DMCV has Dante facing an hour darker than any other.  He’s found ways to overcome previous challenges, and even laugh in the face of them (see: pretty much all of DMC4).  But what’s he supposed to do against Urizen and his little gardening project?  Going off of that logic, it’s not a stretch to assume that he goes back to the old, broken family manor for more than just a chance to get his Sin Devil Trigger.  He needs guidance from the old man he once casually rejected.  Someone to do more than tell him how to beat his brother; no, he needs, however subconsciously, proof that everything is going to be all right.


…I mean, getting his Sin Devil Trigger helps.  But that’s consolatory.


V makes out like a bandit with all the love he gets in this game (which is to be expected, considering that he’s a clean slate in terms of the lore).  He comes off as some mysterious schemer who’s smug and holding all the cards at first, but eventually he ends up revealing his own vulnerabilities and insecurities.  As Vergil’s Nobody human, weaker, and ostensibly better half, he doesn’t have the power he needs to hang with the DMC crew by default, and only deteriorates over time.  It’s almost tragic how he was both born as refuse, and born to die.  Urizen probably wouldn’t have batted one of his fifty eyes over V’s mere existence; there’s no way the William Blake fanboy could have ever fit into the new demon king’s plans.

Up to this point, DMC characters haven’t really (overtly) taken time out to air their baggage.  V does, and both his game of origin and the franchise are stronger for it.  While he can get cocky like all the rest, he may well be the first main character to ever show anything like fear, doubt, or anguish (outside of Lady in 3, but she wasn’t playable so it counts).  Guys like Dante and Nero hold fast to the mask of bravado.  V dropped it a few dozen miles back on their road trip.

I’d say that the most amazing thing V does is introduce something that’s never been a standout, quantifiable factor in the franchise: ambiguity.  He’s dying, and needs power to survive.  How does he get it?  The only way he knows how: by reuniting with Urizen to recreate Vergil, albeit one powered-up by the Qliphoth’s fruit.  (Kindan no Kajitsu intensifies.)  Barring the release of DMC6 or DLC, there are questions we may never get a definitive answer on.  Was V just playing the heroes this whole time to obtain power?  Did he switch sides at the last minute as a desperate act of self-preservation?  Were the feelings and words he gave the others genuine, or just hollow platitudes?

I’ll say this much, though.  As much as I like V (and miss him already), the best thing he could do was die…if only so he could make Vergil into a real character.


Not that Vergil wasn’t a real character before, but how many years has it been since he’s gotten actual development?  It’s been a minute, probably.  The canon’s absence means that the memes have had to fill in the gaps -- lines from entire console generations ago, mixed with the gamer zeitgeist to create an image (albeit one that’s not that inaccurate) of the man he is.  Again, this game played to those expectations by reinforcing that as Vergil’s dominant characteristic.  He’s more about power now than he’s ever been.

Except when he isn’t.  V’s character development -- and character in general -- ostensibly transferred into Vergil, making him into more than the cold, grim, posh villain he was over a decade ago.  In a way, he’s more in touch with his humanity than ever before.  He’s able to question his state of affairs, even if he’s not willing to acknowledge what he’s done (like systematically end the lives of thousands and jeopardize untold millions more) might not be on the level.

Not like it matters.  It’s all about beating Dante, conclusively.  He’s come to far, given up too much, and bought into his own hype.  The power that he could have used to protect what matters -- power that he may have retroactively used for Eva’s sake, if given the chance -- is now only there to sate his myriad complexes.  That’s what makes him the villain, and one that’s more than a little compelling.  Shame that that meddlesome son had to get involved…


It all comes down to this moment.  

It’s the culmination of the game’s premise and themes -- ideas that have existed throughout the canon, and developed and exposed here.  Nero, having learned about his familial ties in full, decides he’s not going to let either his father or his uncle die.  He steps in with the power coalesced from his heart and wishes, and stands tall to end the battle.

What really clinches this moment is the fact that Nero defies conventions.  Defies expectations.  And yes, defies nostalgia.  It’s a fight against Vergil, so obviously he has to lose and die, right?  Well, no.  Part of the point of DMC3 was that “killing” and losing Vergil deeply wounded Dante, forcing him to shed tears after a battle he didn’t want to fight deep down -- because hey, it turns out leaving your kin to a demonic abyss hurts.  In this game, Dante tried to spare Nero of that pain, thinking that killing Vergil for real was the only way to save the world.  Ignore the pain and follow through.

But Nero denies that.  He uses his power not just to prove to his kin that he’s not dead weight.  No, he shows that it’s possible to use strength to protect and support.  As long as you have enough of it, you don’t have to resort to the same old, same old.  You can go beyond that -- find a new way to proceed, without sacrifice and pain.  The end result?  Unfortunately, Nero does end up losing both anyway, because they have to descend into the depths and destroy the Qliphoth.  But it’s a small victory in the sense that, hey, no one in his immediate family died.

So.  I think I love this game.


Again, it’s no masterpiece, and it’s not perfect.  I wish that the girls got to do more.  I wish that Nero’s shame over Credo’s death was further expounded upon.  I wish we could have seen Team DMC do more to save innocent people (the built-in excuse is that everyone nearby is already dead, but I wouldn’t have minded a skew more towards The Avengers and less towards Batman v. Superman).  There are missed opportunities, missteps, and tiny foibles throughout.  Make no mistake.

But what’s here is good.  The style is there to buttress everything, no question.  Even then, the story itself holds up.  It’s simple, it’s focused, it’s thoughtful, it pays respect to the franchise (and the audience, even more so), it’s surprising, and of course, it’s heartfelt.  Real effort went in to make this more than a top-tier action game, which it would have been by default.  Will the gaming world as a whole remember the story behind DMCV, or hold it up as one of the greats?  Probably not.  I’d bet that plenty of them will forget about it a few months out from this post.

But I won’t forget.  And for now, that’s good enough.


…Is what I’d like to end on.  Unfortunately, there’s one final mission left for me.


See you next time.


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