Review for The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles
It’s rare that hearing about a new game release makes my heart soar and yet causes intense nervousness simultaneously. I have such fond memories of playing the first Ace Attorney trilogy; I was blown away by the cleverly woven stories, the kooky and interesting characters, the simple joy of spotting contradictions and deducing answers, whilst shouting ‘objection!’ in unison with Phoenix Wright. And pointing. So much enthusiastic pointing. There have been a few sequels and spin-offs since then, of varying quality. Would The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles, a jam-packed prequel to the classic deduction-based visual novel-style mysteries, be as much fun as the first trilogy, or a disappointment and missed opportunity? I needn’t have worried. These games are eminently worthy successors, with improved graphics, satisfying puzzles and more twists and turns than a twisty turny thing.
This package is actually two newly localised games in one: The Great Ace Attorney Adventures, and The Great Ace Attorney 2: Resolve, originally released in Japan in 2015 and 2017, respectively. In-game events begin in Japan as well, in the 1880s; this in itself was a little surprising to me, given that many western versions of previous games kept up a strange pretence that Phoenix Wright was American and the whole thing was in the US, despite the stories quite clearly taking players to traditionally Japanese locations. Here our protagonist is Ryunosuke Naruhodo (‘Naruhodo’ being the original Japanese surname for Phoenix), a student at the Imperial Yumei University. Ryunosuke finds himself accused of murdering a visiting British professor, and it’s up to his best friend, fellow student (and somehow qualified lawyer) Kazuma Asogi to defend him.
As if there weren’t already enough at stake, the school is threatening to revoke the permission recently granted to Kazuma to learn abroad if he fails, meaning his dream of studying in Great Britain would be forever lost. Could Ryunosuke live with himself if his friend’s future were jeopardised, or – with minutes before the trial starts and no time to find another lawyer – is it time to step up and hope that there’s no truth to the old adage "a man who represents himself has a fool for a client?"
Aside from the pickle Ryunosuke is in, the victim was a prominent British citizen and the whole affair has the potential to impact Anglo-Japanese relations – so much so that the Japanese government strongly desire to deal with the whole mess as soon as possible in order to keep their British allies onside. For the sake of expediency, there’s a genuine danger that political complications will lead to the real culprit getting away with murder.
Once the initial trial is over and another tragic event occurs, Ryunosuke is determined to walk a new path – that of a defence attorney. What follows is an epic romp over two games that takes our hero all the way to the gritty streets of Victorian London, from grubby lodgings, cobbled streets and prisons, to grand courtrooms, a marvellous exhibition and even a trip to the “true crime” waxwork dioramas of Madame Tusspells.
The storytelling is compelling and keeps you guessing, incorporating inspiration from several well-known Sherlock Holmes tales. There are a great variety of individual cases to solve, including an apparent corpse rising from the dead, a stolen waxwork, and a teleportation experiment turned deadly, while the overarching story slowly builds to a climax. The second game is very much a continuation of the first; some threads are deliberately left dangled at the end of Adventures, to be addressed in Resolve. True to its title, loose ends are deftly wrapped up and surprising revelations transpire in an impressive and satisfying denouement.
Thankfully this is not a journey Ryunosuke must take alone; by his side to guide him in court is judicial assistant Susato Mikotoba, still a teenager but full of heart and wise advice. Early on we also meet Herlock Sholmes and the genius ten-year-old author that lives with him, Iris. Herlock (likely named this way for copyright reasons – he’s simply called Sherlock Holmes in the original Japanese version) is a somewhat inept steampunk incarnation of the famous fictional detective. Herlock’s ability to form accurate conclusions seems a little iffy, taking one look at Ryunosuke and declaring he’s a merciless Russian revolutionary. Iris, on the other hand, is startlingly bright and prolific for her young age, having already enthralled readers across the world with her published mysteries based on Sholmes’ exploits.
No Ace Attorney game would be complete without a recurring courtroom rival of course, and here it’s prosecutor Lord Barok van Zieks, also known as the “Grim Reaper of the Bailey” as all of the accused he argues against are either found guilty or perish soon afterwards under strange circumstances. He certainly looks the part, with extremely pale skin and a cloak worthy of Dracula himself, swirling a goblet full of red wine in his right hand, poured from a bottle adorned with a picture of Death wielding two scythes. He proves to be a most elegant and worthy opponent whose backstory is further explored as the tale marches on.
As for Ryunosuke himself? Since he’s new to the whole lawyering business, in his first cases he often stumbles over his words and falters when it’s time to articulate an objection. He’s also exceedingly polite, raising his hand straight up in the air to indicate his desire to interject: “Well! That is… It’s, um… It’s odd! Very odd!” Auchi (the prosecutor in the first trial and ancestor of Winston Payne from the original Ace Attorney trilogy) replies drily, “What’s odd is the defence’s inability to express itself.” As the games progress, however, Ryunosuke‘s confidence builds. (“I believe I can do this now! I’m ready for this fight!”) Like all of the core cast, I grew quite fond of Ryunosuke quite early on. He’s a deliberately ordinary protagonist, just like Phoenix Wright, in stark contrast to the array of other strong, quirky characters that the series is known for, this game being no exception.
Speaking of which, both games boast a diverse, creative, funny and fascinating supporting cast. One of the first we meet is Jezaille Brett, a refined English exchange student with an improbable squawking swan on her hat and curls in her hair so large they look like barrels. Another is Mael Stronghart, Lord Chief Justice of the British Empire, formal and powerful in stature, constantly flipping open his pocket watch and checking the time. In court we get to interrogate ‘profeshnal baddies’ Nash and Ringo Skulkin, thugs and witnesses to a murder, who hold fruit and wear skull pins on their lapels. Investigating many of the cases is Inspector Tobias Gregson of Scotland Yard, brandishing a cone of fish and chips that he pecks at like a pigeon.
No discussion of the characters could omit a nod to the excellent writing. It’s clever and dryly humorous in places, from the Reaper toasting (and roasting) Ryunosuke, “My learned Nipponese friend is obviously in training to be a clown, the way he regales us with such witticisms. To your future career in the circus.” There are many other similarly silly moments of frequent fun and frolics with language, such as the alliteration-adoring Soseki Natsume (based on a real person, a famous Japanese novelist who was genuinely in London in the early 20th century) punctuating each point with a pose while he sweats and twitches. He describes the sight of a victim as a “ghostly, ghoulish, grim, graveyard!” and his situation as “utterly, unbelievably, unjustly, unreasonable!”
The localisation team have done a great job of using authentic old-fashioned English for many of the characters. Take Gina Lestrade for instance, a teenage cockney pickpocket who calls people “mug” and says she’s going to “have a butchers” (meaning take a look) at things, and “Gordon Bennett!” (similar to “good God!”) she can’t “Adam and Eve” (believe) it. She even throws in a tongue-in-cheek reference to the band The Police: “Grrr… every move ’e makes, every breath ’e takes… I can’t stand watchin’ ’im.”
The nature of the trial-based format (every episode but one ends up before judge and jury) also makes for many fraught moments in court, as witnesses are challenged, lies are discovered and truth is unveiled, but (without wanting to spoil the plot) there are also plenty of emotional beats that really hit home.
Whether the moment is serious or silly, an outstanding score complements the mood, primarily using period instruments reflecting the Victorian setting. From the first second the game loads and its orchestral music begins to play, filled with dynamic dramatic tension perfectly suited as the backdrop to a courtroom battle, it’s abundantly clear you’re playing an Ace Attorney game. I could honestly listen to this soundtrack all day, and given the playtime of 60 to 80 hours, I quite literally have several times over. It’s the sort of music that seeps into your everyday life and you find yourself humming even when not playing.
When in the middle of a trial’s twists, the pace of the score quickens as the drama builds, beautifully in sync and utilising elegant and mesmerising strings. When Ryunosuke reaches London – and Lord Stronghart – the rhythm and melody turn more officious and overbearing, pompous but still beautiful. This nicely contrasts the high-energy, cheery-tempoed whimsy of the character theme for Iris. Equally upbeat and distinctive is the tune for note-scribbling and photo-snapping journalist Raiten Menimemo in Resolve, which sounds almost like a jaunty Japanese version of the X-Files theme (with some added clapping effects for good measure).
As is customary for the series, typewriter-style text appears accompanied by blips and bloops in place of voices. What voice acting exists is restricted to a handful of exclamations from some of the key characters – Objection! Yes! ’Scuse me! Take that! Shut up! Hold it! – and in the infrequent cutscenes. Although the amount of acting is limited, what’s here is certainly of a professional quality, convincing and expressive.
Selecting an option on the title screen provides the satisfying sound of a gavel smacking on wood. The most frequent audio effects are largely the same as other games in the franchise – a sudden crack to indicate surprise, and brief high notes to tell you that you’ve learned an important new fact. There are also plenty of story-specific noises: the slapping of desks, the flutter of birds flying upwards as Stronghart showily flings his arms open wide, or the bubbling of Madame Tusspells’ precariously balanced cauldron of hot wax.
There’s no doubt these Chronicles are a significant graphical upgrade from the first trilogy, even compared to the more recent PC remasters, whilst still retaining the style and feel of the original games. The majority of the experience is once again presented as a series of mostly static but detailed background images. There are some animated exceptions: the giant cogs turning in the British Supreme Court, the flickering lights and fiery scales in the courtroom, or a slowly turning Ferris wheel at the exhibition, for example. The varied camera angles (including running along the blade of a sword, zoomed shots and spins) and lighting (particularly during the logic and reasoning spectaculars – more on those shortly) also lend a cinematic feel to some scenes, making them far more dynamic than you’d expect from a visual novel.
The cartoon-style 3D characters have a flair of motion: lips move as the text appears, eyes slowly blink, bandanas sway to and fro. Each person frequently and fluidly performs one of a few signature moves and gestures. For Ryunosuke, this includes sweating and planting his head on the desk in court, pacing up and down while talking to jurors, or standing stiffly with wildly darting eyes (which as van Zieks says, gives him “the quintessential look of a sacrificial lamb”). Sholmes boxes the air in a fighting stance, hangs his head when overcome by malaise, or clutches his stomach as he laughs uncontrollably – to name just a few of his quirks. Lord van Zieks breaks his wine-filled chalice into tiny shards, half-covers a scowl with his hand, and even flips one of his legs onto the stand. It’s all beautifully done and visually engaging.
The hand-drawn, anime-styled cutscenes in Adventures have high production values, and look gorgeous. Unfortunately these aren’t present in Resolve, where they’ve been replaced by computer-generated sequences (using the same character models from the rest of the game). They still look good, but without the same almost Ghibli-like charm of the scenes from Adventures. Both games also have a few storybook slideshow scenes with sketched figures and voice-over, which again look good but don’t compare to the anime segments.
Most episodes broadly follow the same simple formula, alternating between periods of investigation and trials. During the investigation segments, we learn what crime has been committed, who’s been arrested, and then it’s time to explore and investigate, asking witnesses (and suspects) questions to try to piece together what happened. During these sections, you can choose between four options displayed on screen: Examine allows you to inspect a room in more detail, clicking on areas of interest; Converse triggers an interrogation of those nearby by selecting different topics of inquiry; Present lets you show them evidence and their view of it, or potentially provoke a reaction; and finally Move, which you use to travel to other areas linked to the crime.
In court your objective is to listen to witness testimonies, then cross-examine them, pressing them when you want more information, and pouncing on any contradictions in their statements. Consulting the court record will provide details about all of the clues that you’ve found thus far, as well as important facts about the key characters in the case. Selecting something in the record sometimes gives you the opportunity to examine it more closely with a magnifying glass, or to present it (by selecting the relevant option on the bottom-right of the screen) to prove your point – assertions need evidence to back them up. This core mechanic is one of the reasons the Ace Attorney series remains so enjoyable; there’s much satisfaction to be had from listening to the different accounts of various crimes and picking out the falsehoods based on the information at hand. It might involve using a crime scene photo to prove that a witness couldn’t possibly have seen someone attack a victim, spotting chronological inconsistencies between statements and autopsy reports, or even just keeping a watchful eye on how the witnesses interact with one another to call them out on their shady activities.
Be careful, though – sometimes presenting the wrong piece of evidence about a statement or selecting the wrong answer to the occasional multiple choice question that the judge and prosecution throw your way can lose you a life (or more accurately, one of the five university badges you have). Lose them all and you’ll lose the case too, and it’ll be game over. You’ll know when it’s possible to suffer a penalty, as one of your remaining badges will flash while you’re deciding your response. The game both autosaves and allows the option to manually save, with twenty slots to choose from, so there’s no risk of losing too much progress if you have to reload. The trials aren’t particularly difficult anyway, just challenging enough to elicit satisfaction when figuring out a solution.
To keep things fresh, additional mechanics have been drafted in for a little variety. When there are multiple witnesses on the stand, a speech bubble with an ellipsis may pop up during a cross-examination if another witness has something important to say about the statement; you’ll need to move your focus across to them with the A and D keys, and then press space to engage your new target and potentially learn vital new information.
Another novel mechanic is the jury system, involving six members of the public observing the trial who will determine the outcome. When each of them is convinced either way, they cast a ball of fire onto a gigantic set of scales – black for guilty and white for innocent. When they’ve all delivered their verdicts, the defense can request a “summation examination.” This entails listening to the reasons upon which they made their decisions, then seeking out a statement from a juror that contradicts another’s and selecting “pit” to point out how both assertions cannot possibly be true. This is done with the aim of persuading them to reverse their judgment by flinging more fire onto the ‘innocent’ side of the scale. Expect the fickle jury to flip-flop from innocent to guilty and vice versa a few times.
Between court sessions, occasionally Herlock Sholmes will make some slightly off-kilter deductions in a flashy reveal sequence (spotlights, camera spins and all) called a “logic and reasoning spectacular,” and it’s up to you to fix his errors. When Sholmes suggests a potential suspect is about to use shears to cut off his beard to avoid being recognised, look a little more closely at the scene and you can click to select what they were really about to use the shears for. Correct all of his errant conclusions and what really happened is revealed. This deduction and course-correction mechanic features the same penalty system as in the courtroom. These sections feel more simplistic than the trials but provide a fun diversion.
Outside of the core game is a “Special Contents” menu that includes things like music, character sketches, and most notably a “Tailor” option where you can change Ryunosuke, Sholmes and Susato into an alternate costume in Resolve; and “Escapades,” presenting another eight bonus scenes to play through. These mini-episodes are pure visual novel (there’s nothing to solve here) and mainly involve light-hearted discussions, including Ryunosuke and Kazuma waxing lyrical about a school debate in which they were pitted against one another, and a conversation between Susato, Stronghart, Ryunosuke and Gregson about silly historical taxes in Japan and England. They’re not directly related to the main plot, but are worth a play if you want to spend a little more time with the characters.
As with the previous games, the point-and-click PC interface is simple and intuitive. Clicking moves the story along or selects an action or item; alternatively there are keys bound to different options displayed at the bottom of the screen (depending on what choices are available at any particular time). It’s also possible to enable autoplay so that you’re not wearing your mouse out by clicking for every line of dialogue (although the latter does speed up the process a bit to get the text to appear more quickly).
If you haven’t yet deduced it, I adored The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles every bit as much as I did the original Ace Attorney trilogy. The graphics and music (with far fewer synthesised sounds) are simply better, and the creativity of the characters and stories is every bit as compelling as in the exceptional early games. Add to that the clever writing, fun wordplay and satisfying deduction-based conundrums and there’s very little to shout “Objection!” at here. I will enthusiastically point you towards the game, though, as this must-play experience genuinely injects new life into the franchise.
