[Image from glitchwave.com]
Don’t you hate those people who ask your opinion on a certain topic just to respond by telling you that you’re wrong? Take these awkward snobs with a grain of salt, for their patronizing way of conducting what is intended to be subjective discourse is ultimately another shot to their feet in their potential social circles. Still, where do they get the nerve? If one of these people asks me what the greatest JRPG of all time is (a rousing inquiry for sophisticated young adults, to be sure) and I answer with Paper Mario, Persona 5, or any of my other favorites that fit the genre description, I’d be sure to receive a look of smug derision and would be duly informed that the correct answer was Chrono Trigger. While I do not entertain endorsing the notion of an objective best across any form of media, the fact that tons of people have credited Chrono Trigger with this title-holder designation is certainly riveting. What is especially astounding is that even people who were born after Chrono Trigger was released are among the ones championing it as the pinnacle of the JRPG genre, and this is the same demographic of gamers that whinge incessantly when Zelda games don’t feature voice acting and when checkpoints aren’t as charitable as a soup kitchen. I don’t mean to generalize (especially upon realizing that I fit the demographic that I’m admonishing), but I never expected those who grew up with 3D graphics to laud a pixelated game on the SNES with such glowing praise in a million years. After finally playing Chrono Trigger when all of the veneration became too widespread to ignore, I think I’m now one of the annoying people who would bolster Chrono Trigger as the king of the JRPG genre to all of those even remotely interested in the gaming medium. Well, okay, I’m not entirely certain that Chrono Trigger has smitten me to that extent. Still, Chrono Trigger is an all-around impressive feat for the JRPG genre.
To think that what is the supposed magnum opus of the JRPG genre was initially going to be another brick in the sky-scraping wall of Final Fantasy titles. Whether or not one actively plays JRPGs, any and all gamers are aware of Square’s series for its synonymity with the genre. Because Final Fantasy is one of the founding fathers of the JRPG genre, its idiosyncrasies molded the facets that everyone associates the genre with, and some gamers like myself tend to find Final Fantasy somewhat disagreeable. The acquired taste of the turn-based combat mechanic is not my core discrepancy: it’s the presentational aspects of Final Fantasy that resonate an uncomforting sickened feeling inside me. Final Fantasy tends to be overwrought with gooey proverbial cheese dripping all over the dialogue and narrative arcs, confounding saccharine melancholy with profundity. To throw off my appetite even further, all of the cornball narrative elements are supported by a presentational flair so bombastic that it’s libel to make me laugh instead of weep as intended. Final Fantasy is the equivalent of a video game soap opera and the fact that the series has run as long as the airtime tenure of any standard daytime television serial hilariously strengthens this comparison. For all following JRPGs rooted entirely in fantasy, the highfalutin balderdash of Final Fantasy has unfortunately seeped into their foundation. This is why I prefer “domestic JRPGs,” my own patented term to describe games in the genre that intermingle fantasy elements in a domestic setting to keep the tone level-headed. Because Chrono Trigger was developed by the same studio as Final Fantasy and bears all of the fantastical hallmarks of that series from a first impression, I readily assumed that I wouldn’t be singing the same high praises for Chrono Trigger upon playing it. Instead, I’d be rolling my eyes constantly as I would with any of the titles in Square’s trademark IP. However, while Chrono Trigger is thematically ensconced in the realm of pure fantasy, the game has a narrative ace up its sleeve that piques my interest: time travel. This tried and true science fiction trope always serves as an intriguing plot device, even though the logic behind it is completely fallacious. Still, centering the plot of Chrono Trigger around the concept of time travel is not what inherently makes the game so exceptional. Hell, Final Fantasy often uses time travel to invigorate its plots or premises. However, Final Fantasy tends to romanticize the idea of time travel and its otherworldly implications as a video game defined by extravagance naturally would. Chrono Trigger differs from its bigger brother at Square by tapping into the existential implications of time travel as its thematic ethos, which makes the premise all the more substantial.
Time is of the essence in Chrono Trigger, which is precisely why the game wastes very little of it in the expository introduction. Like all great adventures, they all begin with our hero waking up to a brand new day in the comfort of their own bed before venturing off to the uncharted beyond. Crono, the spiky-haired teenage hero in question, is suggested to spend his day at The Millennial Fair by his mom for a joyous time playing carnival games and engaging with the other lighthearted attractions on display. This event is held every millennium in the land of Guardia to both celebrate the kingdom’s inception and commemorate the victory of a war held here that took place four centuries ago against the monstrous mystics. Immediately as Crono enters the fair, his skull smacks right into that of a blonde girl named Marle, who insists on following Crono around the fair like a desperate date once he returns her pendant she spilled in the head-on collision. Once Crono and Marle humor the teleportation device built by Crono’s precocious tech-wiz friend Lucca, the process goes awry and sends Marle through a portal that materializes due to the converging power of her pendant and the energy of Lucca’s machine. Once Crono dives into the portal to follow Marle, he finds himself in a comparatively underdeveloped Guardia: 400 years in the past during the peak of the Mystic War that the humans in Crono’s time were speaking of in retrospect as a historical milestone. As an act of oppositional aggression, the mystics have abducted Guardia’s human queen Leene, and her regal cabinet has mistaken her for Marle because she’s a dead ringer descendent. To ensure the human’s triumph over the mystics hasn’t been warped by his sudden disturbance, Crono and Lucca must stay here in the past to proactively rescue the queen and preserve the state of the future. Despite how tempting the strongman game and soda chugging contest are, ignoring the distractions the fair provides and staying on the linear progression path will see Crono fighting imps in Truce Canyon in about five minutes tops. It’s refreshing to see a JRPG prioritize catapulting the player into the action as opposed to a hefty majority of them that take a millennium to get going.
Chrono Trigger is also breathtakingly gorgeous. I realize it’s a surface-level commendation for a game that I’m touting as the cerebral savior of the traditional JRPG game, but I’d be absolutely remiss if I omitted this aspect from my review. I’m a staunch defender of pixelated graphics and their aesthetic legitimacy, but even I had no idea how heavenly they could look until I played Chrono Trigger. Pixel art’s strength is in its endearing quality, but that sense of endearment does admittedly stem from a rough-hewn jaggedness that still persisted with 16-bit graphics. Somehow for a game on a pixel-based console, Chrono Trigger’s visuals are practically free of blemishes. It’s a lucky teenager with silky, clear skin surrounded by a school of peers whose faces are still riddled with acne. The expressive humanity that is often diminished with such a rudimentary rendering of gaming visuals is not compromised, showcased as early as the fun house attraction in a Millennial Fair tent when Crono plays Simon Says with a clone of himself. Lucca’s Gato robot with his own attraction at the fair isn’t displayed here to showcase the combat before Crono is forced to fend for himself as intended: his early encounter is really to show off the gleaming sheen of his red armor that is so crystal clear that Chrono can practically see his reflection as he’s fighting it. The Guardia Forest situated between the royal estate and the mainland guarding the castle like a grassy moat is serenity incarnate, and I’d meditate in its natural glory for the whole game if I reasonably could. A scene as insignificant as the construction site of the Zenan Bridge in the Middle Ages still presents a marvelous backdrop of a shining horizon contrasting with the dark clouds engulfing it, beaming over the still river water. The sublime scenery presented here is a single tear-inducing sight. I’d send it as a postcard to all of my close friends and relatives, rejecting further engagements with them if they couldn’t appreciate the beauty that I’ve generously shared. The overworld map is rendered more one-dimensionally because it serves as a spatial middle ground that connects all of the intricately detailed places of interest. Still, even with the chibi-sized characters moving around the map with the same directional rigidness of a checkerboard piece, the backdrop of the map is still a divine depiction of the enchanted land of Guardia that sends the same awe-stricken tingles throughout my entire body. I always stated that it was a dumb decision to abandon sprite animation almost entirely in favor of stampeding toward the arguably more obtuse-looking early 3D graphics in the next generation. However, I now consider that the industry might have collectively peeked at Chrono Trigger and unanimously decided that no other game could best its pixelated beauty.
Regarding Chrono Trigger’s key gameplay attributes that the astounding presentation supports, the game is a tad less orthodox than the average JRPG churned out from Square. If you’re one of the fussy few who is turned off by the inorganic flow of turn-based combat found across most if not all JRPGs, Chrono Trigger’s approach to the genre’s distinguishing mechanic should quell the complaints from the dissenters. To accent Chrono Trigger’s combat system, I have to bury my sense of shame and inform you all that I was forced to redo the entire introduction at the fair. An imp at Truce Canyon kicked me in the back of the head unexpectedly as I was scrolling through the battle menu and the blunt impact killed Crono on sight (my health was already low because I fought Lucca’s robot for some silver points). I accidentally gave the green, chrome-domed twerp his golden opportunity to smite me because it hadn’t occurred to me that Chrono Trigger’s combat was running in real-time for all combatants. Chrono Trigger’s unique approach to turn-based combat involves slackening the polite parameters that all parties must abide by amid battle, instead opting to have a free-form fling with limited barriers. The player’s handicap that complies with the game’s lenient rules is a white bar that fully depletes after choosing an option from the menu. Once the action has been executed, the selected character will be completely inactive until it regenerates, which can either be an instant charge or a lethargic build-up depending on the character. This cool-down period, of course, leaves them vulnerable to enemy fire, commencing the opposition’s “turn” during battle. I’d debate the issue of whether or not Chrono Trigger’s combat is entirely fair, considering the enemies tend to assault Crono and friends with a barrage of pain and status afflictions seemingly without being tethered by the same regulations. Spamming disastrous spells every two seconds will become a harrowing reality to endure with the bosses in the later period of the game. Still, every enemy’s superior stamina is just another engaging facet of Chrono Trigger’s combat to put into consideration when facing them. Chrono Trigger adds an appreciated frenetic spark to the dry and tired turn-based system with minute adjustments, and the higher energy emulates something more akin to realistic combat without fracturing the JRPG base.
The way in which Chrono Trigger conducts the leveling-up mechanic also splices up the JRPG tradition. While the character’s physical attributes grow stronger in small increments with every level as usual, the game also tracks the accumulation of “tech points,” a separate system that increases in tandem with the standard leveling. After battles are won, the tech points will go towards learning special abilities for Crono and his presently chosen array of pals. For instance, the first ability that Crono can unlock with tech points involves a “cyclone” move that involves using his sword as a makeshift helicopter propeller, and the “slash” move swipes Crono’s sword on the ground as he flings the friction it creates towards enemies as a projectile. These special moves are an asset to targeting multiple enemies, preventing swathes of vulnerability with more enemies on the field. Crono can really expand the blast radius of his offense with his magic maneuvers that also coincide with tech points. Once Chrono and the majority of his partners are trained in the art of witchcraft by the furry mage Spekkio at the edge of time, the player will practically never revert back to regular attacks with these characters. The magic powers between Crono, Marle, Lucca, and Frog run the gamut of electricity, ice, fire, and water respectively, so it's an eclectic range of elemental forces. Chrono Trigger’s true innovation involving the tech points is unlocking “dual techs' which allows Crono to combine his special maneuvers with that of one of his partners, provided both of their bars are simultaneously full. To no one’s surprise, the elemental flair added to Crono’s cyclone and deadly single spincut move proves far deadlier than when executed plainly. But the dual techs don’t only serve to enhance Crono: any two of Crono’s partners can also converge their special abilities to great effect, even Robo and Ayla who are respectively both too primitive and too technological to execute any feats of magic. Any magic user can still slather them in elemental energy for a lethal combination of power. Depending on the roulette of characters in battle and, of course, if their bars are fully prepared, executing a “tri-attack” combines the special offensive properties of three characters to create total devastation. The partner characters can only earn tech points if they are often following alongside Crono for an extended period on the field, so the player is encouraged to change up their party roster frequently. The synergy between Crono and his friends is mechanically deeper than the cast of playable characters in any JRPG beforehand, and mixing up the roster to see the varied extent of the dual techs never ceases to be interesting.
But how can one possibly juggle the collective experience of six different characters at once to maximize all of their individual proficiencies? Well, I did say that a specific character had to be present in the roster to earn tech points, but I didn’t state this was also necessary for overall experience points. Only three characters can teleport through the time rifts at once, an instance of time continuum bylaws fabricated by the developers as a convenient loophole to limit the party. When Crono collects a number of adventurers that exceed this limit, the extras are stored as benchwarmers in a mystical mezzanine ostensibly suspended above the infinite ether of time itself. While the holdovers are here suspended in tranquil nothingness playing cards, Pictionary, or whatever to alleviate their boredom, somehow their idleness will still translate to gaining experience. Sure, any partners fighting alongside Crono will gain as much experience as our protagonist, but all of the other partners sitting around twiddling their thumbs will amazingly be trailing behind in levels ever so slightly. When I realized that my absent party members were not deprived of experience points upon returning to them at the end of time, I was relieved beyond belief. A prevalent insecurity common among JRPGs is their pension for having the player undergo painstaking grinding sessions to artificially pad out the length of the game. For once, Chrono Trigger is a JRPG that is confident in its estimated runtime and does away with what I consider to be the most unappealing aspect of playing a JRPG. If only Chrono Trigger set an example for future JRPGs in this regard. On the whole, it’s yet another merit of Chrono Trigger’s general accessibility. Healing items for both health and magic are always in abundance whether or not the player is proactively opening every chest on the field or buying them in bulk at the shops across any period. The gold currency needed to purchase these helpful wares is rewarded in surprisingly hefty quantities after every battle, and the player can possibly heal themselves and their entire party at once with a “shelter” item whenever they spot themselves on one of the various save states that are generously placed around every enclosed area. The player will never become attached to one basic weapon or armor accessory because the game will consistently provide new and improved models and fashion for all characters. One might gather all of this information and make a deduction that Chrono Trigger is as revered as it is because it’s so accessible to the point of being effortless. However, Chrono Trigger staves off being baby’s first JRPG by inflicting dire punishment for mistakes during battle, with enemy damage totaling up to numbers in the hundreds if the player isn’t honing their battle strategy. The diverse defensive properties across all of the enemies also require risk-taking and observation to always keep the player on their toes.
With a game so manageable, why would Crono need a ragtag team of time travelers to provide an extra elemental kick to his sword swings? One of Chrono Trigger’s greatest strengths is the rich level of depth and personability found among all its characters, especially those with elongated exposure in Crono’s RPG party. If an RPG party is intended to be an eclectic Breakfast Club band, Chrono Trigger’s primary cast is as diversely colorful as a rainbow. Firstly, Marle is not the typical damsel in distress like the game establishes her in the beginning. Sure, her hyper-feminine demeanor fits the bubbly blonde female trope like an elegant opera glove on a starlet’s arm, and discovering she’s Guardia royalty doesn’t aid my point. However, Marle’s dissatisfaction with high society and reject her regal birthname of Nadia as she tells her kingly father to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine shows more autonomous spunk than her dainty upbringing would normally warrant. For context, Marle isn’t rebelling against her family because of teenage angst, for that wouldn’t be atypical for her gender or age. She’s infuriated that her family's cabinet sentenced Crono to be executed by the state for simply bringing her home from captivity and the trial beforehand where this sentence was decreed cherry-picked from the trivial actions Crono committed in his brief stint at the Millenial Fair in the introduction. Being judged for the most minor of misconduct during this sequence was genuinely appalling and hair-raising, and I’m glad Marle sided with justice rather than the comfort of her privileged status.
Existing in the same “modern” period of Guardia as Crono and Marle is Lucca, the only partner character that already has an established relationship with the protagonist prior to the events of the game. If you ask me, the brainy, asexual girl trope is as overused as that of the girly-girl, and placing Lucca alongside Marle practically exudes a stark Velma and Daphne dynamic far too commonly seen among groups of characters (that involve women in the first place). While Lucca’s backstory isn’t as involved as Marle’s, frequent visitations to her house and interactions with her dad for Lucca’s armor upgrades give Lucca a human warmness that the aloof, calculating character trope she falls under usually rejects. Witnessing how her mother lost her legs in an industrial accident and the palpable trauma from Lucca’s reaction is genuinely heartbreaking.
Reaching beyond the confines of modern times allows Crono to expand his party past two neighbor girls to seriously wild possibilities. The most paradoxical pairing in Crono’s party is Ayla and Robo, two characters whose interactions are so absurd that their close proximity that Crono has caused with his time philandering should fracture the space-time continuum into itty bitty pieces. Ayla is a cavewoman from the ripe dawn of human civilization, while Robo is a clanking bucket of bolts from humanity’s bitter epilogue. Ayla is aggressive and blunt, solving her problems by hitting them like an ankylosaurus while Robo is neutral and impersonal as one would expect from someone programmed with artificial intelligence. The commonality these characters share is they are both fishes out of the water from the absolute parallel of ponds, and their exposure to modernity fosters domestic growth for both of them. Lucca’s character arc intertwines with that of Robo in that their mutual mechanical aptitude evolves into pure, platonic affection, a result unexpected with these two particular characters.
By far, the most complex and tragic of Crono’s posse is Frog, an anthropomorphic amphibian who daylights as a knight in the queen’s service during the Middle Ages. Like someone who carries the honor of this noble duty, Frog is loyal to a T and will happily die to protect the monarchy that governs his land with unbridled enthusiasm while speaking the king’s English with full affectation. If he does, it wouldn’t be as tragic as what actually happened to him. Until the game’s halfway point, the player will probably wonder if seeing a talking frog means that hopping from period to period has had a dizzying mental effect on Crono and his friends. We discover that Frog was once a human named Glenn who initially joined the queen’s service in the fight against the mystics to toughen up his overly sensitive interior alongside his best friend Cyrus. Once Cyrus is fatally stricken by the Mystic leader Magus, the dark fiend transforms Glenn into a frog as an adjunct act of cruelty. Once we’re privy to Frog’s backstory, we come to understand his tentative quirks and empathize with his willingness to destroy Magus.
From a certain perspective, one could argue that the setting of Guardia is the unspoken champion of complexity across all of Chrono Trigger’s characters. As the game progresses, every bandage that obscures the fascinating history of the fantasy land is unraveled, peeling back the mystique by visiting the six notable periods. How Chrono Trigger’s story progresses is the accumulative gathering of more context on Guardia’s past, present, and future, and is brilliantly constructed in a non-linear fashion where each period has a primary arc that is completed incrementally in conjunction with all of the others. Because Chrono Trigger’s plot hops around like a cocaine-addled rabbit, it’s imperative to discuss each period individually from the least amount of insight to the most.
1000 AD is the year of Guardia’s present day, and all seems a little too well. For those pedantic types, yes, 1000 AD in reality’s timeline is still smack dab in the Middle Ages. In Chrono Trigger’s timeline, their victory over the mystics in 600 AD allowed their Renaissance period to ignite much sooner. Because Guardia got a head start, their period of humanistic prosperity is far more advanced if Lucca’s robot and the steamboats floating in their harbor are any indication. Some might point out anachronistic errors, but Guardia is ultimately still a fantasy world not confined by historical accuracy. Besides, the wooden, old-world aesthetic of 1000 AD with the prevalent technological advancements here strikes a wondrous, timeless ambiguity that somehow fits, emulating that brand of Hayao Miyazaki magic found in the worlds he creates for his films. The aura here is elated like a Miyazaki world because everyone has let their guard down for 400 years. Celebrating the milestone of winning the war seems redundant because every day here seems like a celebration of the peace and prosperity they’ve earned. That is, the cheerful and nonchalant attitude is only felt in Leene Square where Crono, Lucca, and Marle reside along with their fellow humankind. One boat ride from Leene away on the island of Medina is the district of the mystics, who are still simmering over their defeat four centuries ago and are waiting for their day of retribution. The atmosphere here is one of disquieting tension, establishing that the conflict between the humans and the mystics is far from over and will be a recurring conflict throughout the game.
Reverting back to the climactic peak of the Mystics War back in 600 AD gives Crono and pals more insight into what actually occurred that allowed them to live in peace, especially since the onus to facilitate that outcome is now on them because of time adulteration. The one distinctive signifier that separates Guardia in the Middle Ages from the present is a hazy mist engulfing the land, and the wooden architecture across all civilizations is also less refined. The prevalent fogginess probably represents that unrest is ubiquitous during war times, which is then expounded on with every scene in this time period aiding the war effort with intense bouts of combat. Here, we meet the Mystic generals that the modern-day mystics practically lionize: Ozzie the portly, green tactician, the purple, sword-wielding Slash, and the non-binary Flea. With the ominous Magus as their commander, taking down these four major figures of the Mystic War is paramount to bringing about a better tomorrow for mankind. Upon restoring the mythical Masamune sword that Cyrus once owned, the climatic segment of the war where Crono and pals infiltrate Magus’s intimidatingly spooky castle to defeat him and his cronies is a harrowing highlight.
Restoring balance to the timeline in the Middle Ages is not where Chrono Trigger ends as some probably expected from the beginning. The valuable information we learn from visiting prehistoric Guardia before it was named as such is that primordial versions of both the humans and mystics have been waging war with one another since unicellular organisms emerged. Between the untamed Pangea jungles and sites of active volcanoes lies the conflict between Ayla’s tribe of unadorned Neanderthals and mystics with dinosaur phenotypes called the Reptites. The Reptites antagonize the primitive humans to secure their place at the top of the proverbial food chain, for their leader Azala is aware that the cataclysmic comet that wiped out the dinosaurs is approaching and wishes that her non-human ilk reign supreme in the future centuries. Of course, Crono assures the opposite when his party defeats Azala, setting the human-dominating precedent that will persist for millions of years into the future.
For those whose history knowledge needs to be dusted off from their high school years, the colossal impact of the meteor slowly but surely led to the blisteringly brutal and fallow ice age that rendered the earth in a seemingly perennial blizzard. From each time period so far, we’ve only seen a skewed perspective that the humans are the moral heroes and the mystics are just incorrigible scoundrels. During the coldest era of the earth’s history when the mystics evidently scurried elsewhere, we get a taste of the humans acting maliciously towards each other. When Guardia is frozen over, human society is split in two. The impoverished half of the human race are referred to as “earthbound ones,” staving off the harsh effects of their permanent winter underground wearing nothing but rags caked with dirt as a defense. Meanwhile, on the total opposite spectrum, the Kingdom of Zeal shadows the frostbitten earth in a chain of islands suspended in the sky. Not only is the weather outside not a concern here, but the scientific and or technological accomplishments of this erudite society dwarf anything found in present-day Guardia. Besides the obvious class imbalance, an unattractive, elitist attitude against the downtrodden earthbounders persists among the Zealites. Despite their illustrious image and scholarly repute, the people of Zeal are downright rotten. The Queen of Zeal’s power trip is so potent it verges on psychosis, and her assistant Dalton is a strong contender for the most unlikable douchebag in gaming. Revealing a malevolence among the people of Zeal provides a nuanced perspective that aids how the player perceives the age-old conflict between humans and mystics.
Alas, all of the fighting amounts to nothing as eventual ruin takes over in the only future period of Guardia the player can explore in the far-off time of 2300 AD. To escape the corrupt law of the present day after Crono’s trial, Crono and pals jump into a time warp portal to a strange land that barely resembles the once glorious kingdom of Guardia. Somehow, even with the frigid dark ages as an available window of time to peer through, Guardia in the 24th century surpasses it in squalid depression. Guardia is depicted in a state of total apocalyptic stillness, with a current of dust eroding away from what was once the prosperous foundation of futuristic Guardia blustering all over the land as violently as the gusts of dark age snow. All of the color is muted in a muddy brown, and all erected modern structures have completely collapsed into the streets below. The civilization remaining in this vacant hellscape resides in a series of domes, a marvel of architectural innovation before the apocalyptic event occurred. All they do to pass the time is lie around in the musty smog of each dome’s interior waiting for a fatal hunger pang brought upon by the everlasting famine to put them out of their misery. In addition, the robots they’ve built, Robo’s models, are planning a robot uprising against the poor humans in the assorted factories located in between the domes. Stating that Guardia’s future is bleak is the understatement of the century. However, I suppose it’s not all bad considering this is where Crono and the gang uncover the Epoch, a flying time-traveling aircraft built by the time guru Belthasar that renders the drag of warping through each time portal obsolete. The Epoch is so cool and convenient that it should be uttered in the same respected breath as the Starship Enterprise and Millenium Falcon for iconic science-fiction vessels. Then again, that street race mini-game against the rogue robot Johnny here is the most objectively flawed aspect of the entire game, so the future all around still sucks out loud.
However, the various feuds between the varying two factions across Guardia’s history are not what eventually doomed it. All of the conflict was merely a distraction masking the true culprit of Guardia’s demise: an eldritch monster named Lavos who exists to parasitically absorb its chosen planet’s life force and render it desolate and barren. Apparently, Lavos’ plans to suck the earth dry is a longcon scheme, for its arrival is actually the asteroid whose impact ushered in the dark ages. In what is the earliest instance of Y2K hysteria across all media, Lavos awakens from its slumber beneath the planet’s crust in 1999 AD, flooding the world in inescapable destruction and leaving it forevermore in the state we see in 2300 AD. Knowing its devastating potential, the governing officials of Zeal attempt to abruptly summon Lavos to harness its power. Naturally, this attempt to flirt with incomprehensible energy goes horribly awry and blows the Kingdom of Zeal to smithereens. Crono ends up saving his friends from the almighty force of Lavos by sacrificing himself, causing the origin point of the time portals from the immensity. Lavos is a truly, terrifyingly intimidating cosmic force in the size and in the scope that the narrative establishes for him, making the player wonder if stopping him to save the future is a futile task.
“Did the developers just pull an Alfred Hitchcock and kill off the main character far before the falling action of the story?” I asked myself in complete shock after what had just occurred. Once the player picks themselves off their feet and control Marle as the primary party member, the dire implications of this change start to sink in. The final portion of Chrono Trigger is what I like to refer to as the “sidequest extravaganza” because the game can either end with finally tackling Lavos for real by either traveling to 1999 AD directly or finishing off the remnants of Zeal by dredging through the Black Omen dungeon which eventually leads to a more manageable Lavos encounter. Or, the player can engage with seven separate sidequests to prolong the game to a fifth of its initial length. I highly suggest humoring these sidequests not only because they reward the player handsomely with the best weapons and gear, but also because they provide essential closure to the arcs of each partner character. Glenn lays his buddy Cyrus to rest, Robo halts the computer menace, and the chancellor that sentenced Crono to the guillotine is revealed to be the direct descendant of the game’s first boss on a secret revenge mission during Marle’s sidequest. After all, the player should ideally be incentivized to prepare thoroughly to fight Lavos, and his four-stage fight will wear on the player even with the most efficient gear. How much the player is willing to do during the final stretch will also coincide with the ending they receive, and there are an impressive number of outcomes. It’s outstanding how much the player’s decisions here will affect the game’s resolution.
What resonates with me upon finishing the final section of Chrono Trigger is that our protagonist, Crono, doesn’t matter. Crono is intended to be the heroic avatar that is destined for glory, giving the player that sense of gratification. However, he disintegrated before our very eyes and the game still continues without him as par for the course. Hell, Magus, who turns out to have always been campaigning against Lavos and not for supporting his return because of what happened in Zeal on that fateful day, makes for a fine Crono surrogate if the player doesn’t allow Glenn to decapitate him to avenge Cyrus. Simply incorporating Magus as an ally is an insult to Crono’s memory, but only if you stubbornly persist with the idea that Crono is the focal point of the story. One of the endgame sidequests is a roundabout excursion to resurrect Crono, putting the clone from the fair in place at the pinpoint moment of Lavos’ attack on Zeal. Even though he returns, he no longer has a solid spot as the unchangeable leader and can be swapped out for anyone. We start to wonder what the ancillary mute is doing here among a group of characters who are vastly more interesting than he is. The inconsequential impact of Crono’s death on the plot conjures up the idea that perhaps nothing matters. The endless power struggle between those who reside on this planet will ultimately prove a stalemate because time is a cruel mistress that will end everything eventually. Time is a relative constant that waits for no one, not even those who are deemed important. It is the grand extinguisher across the cosmos. Chrono Trigger doesn’t romanticize the premise of time travel like other JRPGs: it treats the concept with honesty, causing uncomforting thoughts and feelings of one’s own mortality to creep in. It’s a scary byproduct of really effective art.
Chrono Trigger was a labor of love between three Japanese industry giants, and the goal of their painstaking efforts was to create something extraordinary that would blow the balls off of every gamer who purchased it or they would get a money-back guarantee. Well, call me a eunuch because this customer, along with several hundreds of thousands of people, is satisfied completely. By all means, Chrono Trigger should’ve alienated myself and other JRPG sticklers because of its inherent Square makeup and the fantasy premise and setting still scream that it's a Square game. However, beneath the surface, Square takes all that I find fault with Final Fantasy and commits an act of defenestration with it, starting anew from the ground up. Chrono Trigger takes turn-based combat to an unparalleled heights of involvement that is as smooth as a Guinness stout, all while trimming the fat of grinding found in most JRPGs to a sleek and slender accessibility that will still not deter the genre’s biggest enthusiasts. In an era where gaming narrative was still elementary at best, Chrono Trigger provides a story with charismatic characters handling an intelligent story involving the convoluted premise of time travel with no plot holes to be found. Goddammit, no wonder why Chrono Trigger is lauded so innumerably: the game is void of any flaws. Given that it’s a product of an era where we were still tolerating the primitiveness of a relatively new medium, the fact that Chrono Trigger supersedes all of its contemporaries to this degree is astonishing beyond words. In the almost three decades it's been since Chrono Trigger was released, the cruel mistress of time still hasn't depreciated its masterpiece status.
Chrono Trigger
Developer: Square
Publisher: Square
Genre(s): JRPG
Platforms: SNES
Release Date: March 11, 2024
To think that what is the supposed magnum opus of the JRPG genre was initially going to be another brick in the sky-scraping wall of Final Fantasy titles. Whether or not one actively plays JRPGs, any and all gamers are aware of Square’s series for its synonymity with the genre. Because Final Fantasy is one of the founding fathers of the JRPG genre, its idiosyncrasies molded the facets that everyone associates the genre with, and some gamers like myself tend to find Final Fantasy somewhat disagreeable. The acquired taste of the turn-based combat mechanic is not my core discrepancy: it’s the presentational aspects of Final Fantasy that resonate an uncomforting sickened feeling inside me. Final Fantasy tends to be overwrought with gooey proverbial cheese dripping all over the dialogue and narrative arcs, confounding saccharine melancholy with profundity. To throw off my appetite even further, all of the cornball narrative elements are supported by a presentational flair so bombastic that it’s libel to make me laugh instead of weep as intended. Final Fantasy is the equivalent of a video game soap opera and the fact that the series has run as long as the airtime tenure of any standard daytime television serial hilariously strengthens this comparison. For all following JRPGs rooted entirely in fantasy, the highfalutin balderdash of Final Fantasy has unfortunately seeped into their foundation. This is why I prefer “domestic JRPGs,” my own patented term to describe games in the genre that intermingle fantasy elements in a domestic setting to keep the tone level-headed. Because Chrono Trigger was developed by the same studio as Final Fantasy and bears all of the fantastical hallmarks of that series from a first impression, I readily assumed that I wouldn’t be singing the same high praises for Chrono Trigger upon playing it. Instead, I’d be rolling my eyes constantly as I would with any of the titles in Square’s trademark IP. However, while Chrono Trigger is thematically ensconced in the realm of pure fantasy, the game has a narrative ace up its sleeve that piques my interest: time travel. This tried and true science fiction trope always serves as an intriguing plot device, even though the logic behind it is completely fallacious. Still, centering the plot of Chrono Trigger around the concept of time travel is not what inherently makes the game so exceptional. Hell, Final Fantasy often uses time travel to invigorate its plots or premises. However, Final Fantasy tends to romanticize the idea of time travel and its otherworldly implications as a video game defined by extravagance naturally would. Chrono Trigger differs from its bigger brother at Square by tapping into the existential implications of time travel as its thematic ethos, which makes the premise all the more substantial.
Time is of the essence in Chrono Trigger, which is precisely why the game wastes very little of it in the expository introduction. Like all great adventures, they all begin with our hero waking up to a brand new day in the comfort of their own bed before venturing off to the uncharted beyond. Crono, the spiky-haired teenage hero in question, is suggested to spend his day at The Millennial Fair by his mom for a joyous time playing carnival games and engaging with the other lighthearted attractions on display. This event is held every millennium in the land of Guardia to both celebrate the kingdom’s inception and commemorate the victory of a war held here that took place four centuries ago against the monstrous mystics. Immediately as Crono enters the fair, his skull smacks right into that of a blonde girl named Marle, who insists on following Crono around the fair like a desperate date once he returns her pendant she spilled in the head-on collision. Once Crono and Marle humor the teleportation device built by Crono’s precocious tech-wiz friend Lucca, the process goes awry and sends Marle through a portal that materializes due to the converging power of her pendant and the energy of Lucca’s machine. Once Crono dives into the portal to follow Marle, he finds himself in a comparatively underdeveloped Guardia: 400 years in the past during the peak of the Mystic War that the humans in Crono’s time were speaking of in retrospect as a historical milestone. As an act of oppositional aggression, the mystics have abducted Guardia’s human queen Leene, and her regal cabinet has mistaken her for Marle because she’s a dead ringer descendent. To ensure the human’s triumph over the mystics hasn’t been warped by his sudden disturbance, Crono and Lucca must stay here in the past to proactively rescue the queen and preserve the state of the future. Despite how tempting the strongman game and soda chugging contest are, ignoring the distractions the fair provides and staying on the linear progression path will see Crono fighting imps in Truce Canyon in about five minutes tops. It’s refreshing to see a JRPG prioritize catapulting the player into the action as opposed to a hefty majority of them that take a millennium to get going.
Chrono Trigger is also breathtakingly gorgeous. I realize it’s a surface-level commendation for a game that I’m touting as the cerebral savior of the traditional JRPG game, but I’d be absolutely remiss if I omitted this aspect from my review. I’m a staunch defender of pixelated graphics and their aesthetic legitimacy, but even I had no idea how heavenly they could look until I played Chrono Trigger. Pixel art’s strength is in its endearing quality, but that sense of endearment does admittedly stem from a rough-hewn jaggedness that still persisted with 16-bit graphics. Somehow for a game on a pixel-based console, Chrono Trigger’s visuals are practically free of blemishes. It’s a lucky teenager with silky, clear skin surrounded by a school of peers whose faces are still riddled with acne. The expressive humanity that is often diminished with such a rudimentary rendering of gaming visuals is not compromised, showcased as early as the fun house attraction in a Millennial Fair tent when Crono plays Simon Says with a clone of himself. Lucca’s Gato robot with his own attraction at the fair isn’t displayed here to showcase the combat before Crono is forced to fend for himself as intended: his early encounter is really to show off the gleaming sheen of his red armor that is so crystal clear that Chrono can practically see his reflection as he’s fighting it. The Guardia Forest situated between the royal estate and the mainland guarding the castle like a grassy moat is serenity incarnate, and I’d meditate in its natural glory for the whole game if I reasonably could. A scene as insignificant as the construction site of the Zenan Bridge in the Middle Ages still presents a marvelous backdrop of a shining horizon contrasting with the dark clouds engulfing it, beaming over the still river water. The sublime scenery presented here is a single tear-inducing sight. I’d send it as a postcard to all of my close friends and relatives, rejecting further engagements with them if they couldn’t appreciate the beauty that I’ve generously shared. The overworld map is rendered more one-dimensionally because it serves as a spatial middle ground that connects all of the intricately detailed places of interest. Still, even with the chibi-sized characters moving around the map with the same directional rigidness of a checkerboard piece, the backdrop of the map is still a divine depiction of the enchanted land of Guardia that sends the same awe-stricken tingles throughout my entire body. I always stated that it was a dumb decision to abandon sprite animation almost entirely in favor of stampeding toward the arguably more obtuse-looking early 3D graphics in the next generation. However, I now consider that the industry might have collectively peeked at Chrono Trigger and unanimously decided that no other game could best its pixelated beauty.
Regarding Chrono Trigger’s key gameplay attributes that the astounding presentation supports, the game is a tad less orthodox than the average JRPG churned out from Square. If you’re one of the fussy few who is turned off by the inorganic flow of turn-based combat found across most if not all JRPGs, Chrono Trigger’s approach to the genre’s distinguishing mechanic should quell the complaints from the dissenters. To accent Chrono Trigger’s combat system, I have to bury my sense of shame and inform you all that I was forced to redo the entire introduction at the fair. An imp at Truce Canyon kicked me in the back of the head unexpectedly as I was scrolling through the battle menu and the blunt impact killed Crono on sight (my health was already low because I fought Lucca’s robot for some silver points). I accidentally gave the green, chrome-domed twerp his golden opportunity to smite me because it hadn’t occurred to me that Chrono Trigger’s combat was running in real-time for all combatants. Chrono Trigger’s unique approach to turn-based combat involves slackening the polite parameters that all parties must abide by amid battle, instead opting to have a free-form fling with limited barriers. The player’s handicap that complies with the game’s lenient rules is a white bar that fully depletes after choosing an option from the menu. Once the action has been executed, the selected character will be completely inactive until it regenerates, which can either be an instant charge or a lethargic build-up depending on the character. This cool-down period, of course, leaves them vulnerable to enemy fire, commencing the opposition’s “turn” during battle. I’d debate the issue of whether or not Chrono Trigger’s combat is entirely fair, considering the enemies tend to assault Crono and friends with a barrage of pain and status afflictions seemingly without being tethered by the same regulations. Spamming disastrous spells every two seconds will become a harrowing reality to endure with the bosses in the later period of the game. Still, every enemy’s superior stamina is just another engaging facet of Chrono Trigger’s combat to put into consideration when facing them. Chrono Trigger adds an appreciated frenetic spark to the dry and tired turn-based system with minute adjustments, and the higher energy emulates something more akin to realistic combat without fracturing the JRPG base.
The way in which Chrono Trigger conducts the leveling-up mechanic also splices up the JRPG tradition. While the character’s physical attributes grow stronger in small increments with every level as usual, the game also tracks the accumulation of “tech points,” a separate system that increases in tandem with the standard leveling. After battles are won, the tech points will go towards learning special abilities for Crono and his presently chosen array of pals. For instance, the first ability that Crono can unlock with tech points involves a “cyclone” move that involves using his sword as a makeshift helicopter propeller, and the “slash” move swipes Crono’s sword on the ground as he flings the friction it creates towards enemies as a projectile. These special moves are an asset to targeting multiple enemies, preventing swathes of vulnerability with more enemies on the field. Crono can really expand the blast radius of his offense with his magic maneuvers that also coincide with tech points. Once Chrono and the majority of his partners are trained in the art of witchcraft by the furry mage Spekkio at the edge of time, the player will practically never revert back to regular attacks with these characters. The magic powers between Crono, Marle, Lucca, and Frog run the gamut of electricity, ice, fire, and water respectively, so it's an eclectic range of elemental forces. Chrono Trigger’s true innovation involving the tech points is unlocking “dual techs' which allows Crono to combine his special maneuvers with that of one of his partners, provided both of their bars are simultaneously full. To no one’s surprise, the elemental flair added to Crono’s cyclone and deadly single spincut move proves far deadlier than when executed plainly. But the dual techs don’t only serve to enhance Crono: any two of Crono’s partners can also converge their special abilities to great effect, even Robo and Ayla who are respectively both too primitive and too technological to execute any feats of magic. Any magic user can still slather them in elemental energy for a lethal combination of power. Depending on the roulette of characters in battle and, of course, if their bars are fully prepared, executing a “tri-attack” combines the special offensive properties of three characters to create total devastation. The partner characters can only earn tech points if they are often following alongside Crono for an extended period on the field, so the player is encouraged to change up their party roster frequently. The synergy between Crono and his friends is mechanically deeper than the cast of playable characters in any JRPG beforehand, and mixing up the roster to see the varied extent of the dual techs never ceases to be interesting.
But how can one possibly juggle the collective experience of six different characters at once to maximize all of their individual proficiencies? Well, I did say that a specific character had to be present in the roster to earn tech points, but I didn’t state this was also necessary for overall experience points. Only three characters can teleport through the time rifts at once, an instance of time continuum bylaws fabricated by the developers as a convenient loophole to limit the party. When Crono collects a number of adventurers that exceed this limit, the extras are stored as benchwarmers in a mystical mezzanine ostensibly suspended above the infinite ether of time itself. While the holdovers are here suspended in tranquil nothingness playing cards, Pictionary, or whatever to alleviate their boredom, somehow their idleness will still translate to gaining experience. Sure, any partners fighting alongside Crono will gain as much experience as our protagonist, but all of the other partners sitting around twiddling their thumbs will amazingly be trailing behind in levels ever so slightly. When I realized that my absent party members were not deprived of experience points upon returning to them at the end of time, I was relieved beyond belief. A prevalent insecurity common among JRPGs is their pension for having the player undergo painstaking grinding sessions to artificially pad out the length of the game. For once, Chrono Trigger is a JRPG that is confident in its estimated runtime and does away with what I consider to be the most unappealing aspect of playing a JRPG. If only Chrono Trigger set an example for future JRPGs in this regard. On the whole, it’s yet another merit of Chrono Trigger’s general accessibility. Healing items for both health and magic are always in abundance whether or not the player is proactively opening every chest on the field or buying them in bulk at the shops across any period. The gold currency needed to purchase these helpful wares is rewarded in surprisingly hefty quantities after every battle, and the player can possibly heal themselves and their entire party at once with a “shelter” item whenever they spot themselves on one of the various save states that are generously placed around every enclosed area. The player will never become attached to one basic weapon or armor accessory because the game will consistently provide new and improved models and fashion for all characters. One might gather all of this information and make a deduction that Chrono Trigger is as revered as it is because it’s so accessible to the point of being effortless. However, Chrono Trigger staves off being baby’s first JRPG by inflicting dire punishment for mistakes during battle, with enemy damage totaling up to numbers in the hundreds if the player isn’t honing their battle strategy. The diverse defensive properties across all of the enemies also require risk-taking and observation to always keep the player on their toes.
With a game so manageable, why would Crono need a ragtag team of time travelers to provide an extra elemental kick to his sword swings? One of Chrono Trigger’s greatest strengths is the rich level of depth and personability found among all its characters, especially those with elongated exposure in Crono’s RPG party. If an RPG party is intended to be an eclectic Breakfast Club band, Chrono Trigger’s primary cast is as diversely colorful as a rainbow. Firstly, Marle is not the typical damsel in distress like the game establishes her in the beginning. Sure, her hyper-feminine demeanor fits the bubbly blonde female trope like an elegant opera glove on a starlet’s arm, and discovering she’s Guardia royalty doesn’t aid my point. However, Marle’s dissatisfaction with high society and reject her regal birthname of Nadia as she tells her kingly father to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine shows more autonomous spunk than her dainty upbringing would normally warrant. For context, Marle isn’t rebelling against her family because of teenage angst, for that wouldn’t be atypical for her gender or age. She’s infuriated that her family's cabinet sentenced Crono to be executed by the state for simply bringing her home from captivity and the trial beforehand where this sentence was decreed cherry-picked from the trivial actions Crono committed in his brief stint at the Millenial Fair in the introduction. Being judged for the most minor of misconduct during this sequence was genuinely appalling and hair-raising, and I’m glad Marle sided with justice rather than the comfort of her privileged status.
Existing in the same “modern” period of Guardia as Crono and Marle is Lucca, the only partner character that already has an established relationship with the protagonist prior to the events of the game. If you ask me, the brainy, asexual girl trope is as overused as that of the girly-girl, and placing Lucca alongside Marle practically exudes a stark Velma and Daphne dynamic far too commonly seen among groups of characters (that involve women in the first place). While Lucca’s backstory isn’t as involved as Marle’s, frequent visitations to her house and interactions with her dad for Lucca’s armor upgrades give Lucca a human warmness that the aloof, calculating character trope she falls under usually rejects. Witnessing how her mother lost her legs in an industrial accident and the palpable trauma from Lucca’s reaction is genuinely heartbreaking.
Reaching beyond the confines of modern times allows Crono to expand his party past two neighbor girls to seriously wild possibilities. The most paradoxical pairing in Crono’s party is Ayla and Robo, two characters whose interactions are so absurd that their close proximity that Crono has caused with his time philandering should fracture the space-time continuum into itty bitty pieces. Ayla is a cavewoman from the ripe dawn of human civilization, while Robo is a clanking bucket of bolts from humanity’s bitter epilogue. Ayla is aggressive and blunt, solving her problems by hitting them like an ankylosaurus while Robo is neutral and impersonal as one would expect from someone programmed with artificial intelligence. The commonality these characters share is they are both fishes out of the water from the absolute parallel of ponds, and their exposure to modernity fosters domestic growth for both of them. Lucca’s character arc intertwines with that of Robo in that their mutual mechanical aptitude evolves into pure, platonic affection, a result unexpected with these two particular characters.
By far, the most complex and tragic of Crono’s posse is Frog, an anthropomorphic amphibian who daylights as a knight in the queen’s service during the Middle Ages. Like someone who carries the honor of this noble duty, Frog is loyal to a T and will happily die to protect the monarchy that governs his land with unbridled enthusiasm while speaking the king’s English with full affectation. If he does, it wouldn’t be as tragic as what actually happened to him. Until the game’s halfway point, the player will probably wonder if seeing a talking frog means that hopping from period to period has had a dizzying mental effect on Crono and his friends. We discover that Frog was once a human named Glenn who initially joined the queen’s service in the fight against the mystics to toughen up his overly sensitive interior alongside his best friend Cyrus. Once Cyrus is fatally stricken by the Mystic leader Magus, the dark fiend transforms Glenn into a frog as an adjunct act of cruelty. Once we’re privy to Frog’s backstory, we come to understand his tentative quirks and empathize with his willingness to destroy Magus.
From a certain perspective, one could argue that the setting of Guardia is the unspoken champion of complexity across all of Chrono Trigger’s characters. As the game progresses, every bandage that obscures the fascinating history of the fantasy land is unraveled, peeling back the mystique by visiting the six notable periods. How Chrono Trigger’s story progresses is the accumulative gathering of more context on Guardia’s past, present, and future, and is brilliantly constructed in a non-linear fashion where each period has a primary arc that is completed incrementally in conjunction with all of the others. Because Chrono Trigger’s plot hops around like a cocaine-addled rabbit, it’s imperative to discuss each period individually from the least amount of insight to the most.
1000 AD is the year of Guardia’s present day, and all seems a little too well. For those pedantic types, yes, 1000 AD in reality’s timeline is still smack dab in the Middle Ages. In Chrono Trigger’s timeline, their victory over the mystics in 600 AD allowed their Renaissance period to ignite much sooner. Because Guardia got a head start, their period of humanistic prosperity is far more advanced if Lucca’s robot and the steamboats floating in their harbor are any indication. Some might point out anachronistic errors, but Guardia is ultimately still a fantasy world not confined by historical accuracy. Besides, the wooden, old-world aesthetic of 1000 AD with the prevalent technological advancements here strikes a wondrous, timeless ambiguity that somehow fits, emulating that brand of Hayao Miyazaki magic found in the worlds he creates for his films. The aura here is elated like a Miyazaki world because everyone has let their guard down for 400 years. Celebrating the milestone of winning the war seems redundant because every day here seems like a celebration of the peace and prosperity they’ve earned. That is, the cheerful and nonchalant attitude is only felt in Leene Square where Crono, Lucca, and Marle reside along with their fellow humankind. One boat ride from Leene away on the island of Medina is the district of the mystics, who are still simmering over their defeat four centuries ago and are waiting for their day of retribution. The atmosphere here is one of disquieting tension, establishing that the conflict between the humans and the mystics is far from over and will be a recurring conflict throughout the game.
Reverting back to the climactic peak of the Mystics War back in 600 AD gives Crono and pals more insight into what actually occurred that allowed them to live in peace, especially since the onus to facilitate that outcome is now on them because of time adulteration. The one distinctive signifier that separates Guardia in the Middle Ages from the present is a hazy mist engulfing the land, and the wooden architecture across all civilizations is also less refined. The prevalent fogginess probably represents that unrest is ubiquitous during war times, which is then expounded on with every scene in this time period aiding the war effort with intense bouts of combat. Here, we meet the Mystic generals that the modern-day mystics practically lionize: Ozzie the portly, green tactician, the purple, sword-wielding Slash, and the non-binary Flea. With the ominous Magus as their commander, taking down these four major figures of the Mystic War is paramount to bringing about a better tomorrow for mankind. Upon restoring the mythical Masamune sword that Cyrus once owned, the climatic segment of the war where Crono and pals infiltrate Magus’s intimidatingly spooky castle to defeat him and his cronies is a harrowing highlight.
Restoring balance to the timeline in the Middle Ages is not where Chrono Trigger ends as some probably expected from the beginning. The valuable information we learn from visiting prehistoric Guardia before it was named as such is that primordial versions of both the humans and mystics have been waging war with one another since unicellular organisms emerged. Between the untamed Pangea jungles and sites of active volcanoes lies the conflict between Ayla’s tribe of unadorned Neanderthals and mystics with dinosaur phenotypes called the Reptites. The Reptites antagonize the primitive humans to secure their place at the top of the proverbial food chain, for their leader Azala is aware that the cataclysmic comet that wiped out the dinosaurs is approaching and wishes that her non-human ilk reign supreme in the future centuries. Of course, Crono assures the opposite when his party defeats Azala, setting the human-dominating precedent that will persist for millions of years into the future.
For those whose history knowledge needs to be dusted off from their high school years, the colossal impact of the meteor slowly but surely led to the blisteringly brutal and fallow ice age that rendered the earth in a seemingly perennial blizzard. From each time period so far, we’ve only seen a skewed perspective that the humans are the moral heroes and the mystics are just incorrigible scoundrels. During the coldest era of the earth’s history when the mystics evidently scurried elsewhere, we get a taste of the humans acting maliciously towards each other. When Guardia is frozen over, human society is split in two. The impoverished half of the human race are referred to as “earthbound ones,” staving off the harsh effects of their permanent winter underground wearing nothing but rags caked with dirt as a defense. Meanwhile, on the total opposite spectrum, the Kingdom of Zeal shadows the frostbitten earth in a chain of islands suspended in the sky. Not only is the weather outside not a concern here, but the scientific and or technological accomplishments of this erudite society dwarf anything found in present-day Guardia. Besides the obvious class imbalance, an unattractive, elitist attitude against the downtrodden earthbounders persists among the Zealites. Despite their illustrious image and scholarly repute, the people of Zeal are downright rotten. The Queen of Zeal’s power trip is so potent it verges on psychosis, and her assistant Dalton is a strong contender for the most unlikable douchebag in gaming. Revealing a malevolence among the people of Zeal provides a nuanced perspective that aids how the player perceives the age-old conflict between humans and mystics.
Alas, all of the fighting amounts to nothing as eventual ruin takes over in the only future period of Guardia the player can explore in the far-off time of 2300 AD. To escape the corrupt law of the present day after Crono’s trial, Crono and pals jump into a time warp portal to a strange land that barely resembles the once glorious kingdom of Guardia. Somehow, even with the frigid dark ages as an available window of time to peer through, Guardia in the 24th century surpasses it in squalid depression. Guardia is depicted in a state of total apocalyptic stillness, with a current of dust eroding away from what was once the prosperous foundation of futuristic Guardia blustering all over the land as violently as the gusts of dark age snow. All of the color is muted in a muddy brown, and all erected modern structures have completely collapsed into the streets below. The civilization remaining in this vacant hellscape resides in a series of domes, a marvel of architectural innovation before the apocalyptic event occurred. All they do to pass the time is lie around in the musty smog of each dome’s interior waiting for a fatal hunger pang brought upon by the everlasting famine to put them out of their misery. In addition, the robots they’ve built, Robo’s models, are planning a robot uprising against the poor humans in the assorted factories located in between the domes. Stating that Guardia’s future is bleak is the understatement of the century. However, I suppose it’s not all bad considering this is where Crono and the gang uncover the Epoch, a flying time-traveling aircraft built by the time guru Belthasar that renders the drag of warping through each time portal obsolete. The Epoch is so cool and convenient that it should be uttered in the same respected breath as the Starship Enterprise and Millenium Falcon for iconic science-fiction vessels. Then again, that street race mini-game against the rogue robot Johnny here is the most objectively flawed aspect of the entire game, so the future all around still sucks out loud.
However, the various feuds between the varying two factions across Guardia’s history are not what eventually doomed it. All of the conflict was merely a distraction masking the true culprit of Guardia’s demise: an eldritch monster named Lavos who exists to parasitically absorb its chosen planet’s life force and render it desolate and barren. Apparently, Lavos’ plans to suck the earth dry is a longcon scheme, for its arrival is actually the asteroid whose impact ushered in the dark ages. In what is the earliest instance of Y2K hysteria across all media, Lavos awakens from its slumber beneath the planet’s crust in 1999 AD, flooding the world in inescapable destruction and leaving it forevermore in the state we see in 2300 AD. Knowing its devastating potential, the governing officials of Zeal attempt to abruptly summon Lavos to harness its power. Naturally, this attempt to flirt with incomprehensible energy goes horribly awry and blows the Kingdom of Zeal to smithereens. Crono ends up saving his friends from the almighty force of Lavos by sacrificing himself, causing the origin point of the time portals from the immensity. Lavos is a truly, terrifyingly intimidating cosmic force in the size and in the scope that the narrative establishes for him, making the player wonder if stopping him to save the future is a futile task.
“Did the developers just pull an Alfred Hitchcock and kill off the main character far before the falling action of the story?” I asked myself in complete shock after what had just occurred. Once the player picks themselves off their feet and control Marle as the primary party member, the dire implications of this change start to sink in. The final portion of Chrono Trigger is what I like to refer to as the “sidequest extravaganza” because the game can either end with finally tackling Lavos for real by either traveling to 1999 AD directly or finishing off the remnants of Zeal by dredging through the Black Omen dungeon which eventually leads to a more manageable Lavos encounter. Or, the player can engage with seven separate sidequests to prolong the game to a fifth of its initial length. I highly suggest humoring these sidequests not only because they reward the player handsomely with the best weapons and gear, but also because they provide essential closure to the arcs of each partner character. Glenn lays his buddy Cyrus to rest, Robo halts the computer menace, and the chancellor that sentenced Crono to the guillotine is revealed to be the direct descendant of the game’s first boss on a secret revenge mission during Marle’s sidequest. After all, the player should ideally be incentivized to prepare thoroughly to fight Lavos, and his four-stage fight will wear on the player even with the most efficient gear. How much the player is willing to do during the final stretch will also coincide with the ending they receive, and there are an impressive number of outcomes. It’s outstanding how much the player’s decisions here will affect the game’s resolution.
What resonates with me upon finishing the final section of Chrono Trigger is that our protagonist, Crono, doesn’t matter. Crono is intended to be the heroic avatar that is destined for glory, giving the player that sense of gratification. However, he disintegrated before our very eyes and the game still continues without him as par for the course. Hell, Magus, who turns out to have always been campaigning against Lavos and not for supporting his return because of what happened in Zeal on that fateful day, makes for a fine Crono surrogate if the player doesn’t allow Glenn to decapitate him to avenge Cyrus. Simply incorporating Magus as an ally is an insult to Crono’s memory, but only if you stubbornly persist with the idea that Crono is the focal point of the story. One of the endgame sidequests is a roundabout excursion to resurrect Crono, putting the clone from the fair in place at the pinpoint moment of Lavos’ attack on Zeal. Even though he returns, he no longer has a solid spot as the unchangeable leader and can be swapped out for anyone. We start to wonder what the ancillary mute is doing here among a group of characters who are vastly more interesting than he is. The inconsequential impact of Crono’s death on the plot conjures up the idea that perhaps nothing matters. The endless power struggle between those who reside on this planet will ultimately prove a stalemate because time is a cruel mistress that will end everything eventually. Time is a relative constant that waits for no one, not even those who are deemed important. It is the grand extinguisher across the cosmos. Chrono Trigger doesn’t romanticize the premise of time travel like other JRPGs: it treats the concept with honesty, causing uncomforting thoughts and feelings of one’s own mortality to creep in. It’s a scary byproduct of really effective art.
Chrono Trigger was a labor of love between three Japanese industry giants, and the goal of their painstaking efforts was to create something extraordinary that would blow the balls off of every gamer who purchased it or they would get a money-back guarantee. Well, call me a eunuch because this customer, along with several hundreds of thousands of people, is satisfied completely. By all means, Chrono Trigger should’ve alienated myself and other JRPG sticklers because of its inherent Square makeup and the fantasy premise and setting still scream that it's a Square game. However, beneath the surface, Square takes all that I find fault with Final Fantasy and commits an act of defenestration with it, starting anew from the ground up. Chrono Trigger takes turn-based combat to an unparalleled heights of involvement that is as smooth as a Guinness stout, all while trimming the fat of grinding found in most JRPGs to a sleek and slender accessibility that will still not deter the genre’s biggest enthusiasts. In an era where gaming narrative was still elementary at best, Chrono Trigger provides a story with charismatic characters handling an intelligent story involving the convoluted premise of time travel with no plot holes to be found. Goddammit, no wonder why Chrono Trigger is lauded so innumerably: the game is void of any flaws. Given that it’s a product of an era where we were still tolerating the primitiveness of a relatively new medium, the fact that Chrono Trigger supersedes all of its contemporaries to this degree is astonishing beyond words. In the almost three decades it's been since Chrono Trigger was released, the cruel mistress of time still hasn't depreciated its masterpiece status.
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