It's been official for just over a week: MGS V: Ground Zeroes is now available from French retailers. A prologue that has already generated plenty of discussion about its appetizer-like nature, since it is merely part of the future and definitive MGS V: The Phantom Pain, which is not expected for at least another year.
Five years ago, however, long before the announcement of this new-generation Metal Gear Solid, its creator Hideo Kojima already thought he had found the fifth canonical installment in his saga. The chosen one was supposedly MGS Peace Walker on PSP, a minor entry that ultimately never received the honor of being included in the series' official numbering. And while it has plenty of qualities, it never had the stature for that in the first place...
The Terrible Children, and the Others
Marketing, really? When Hideo Kojima told the world about his idea of giving his next PSP title an official sequel number (though not a direct sequel) to Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots, nobody was really fooled. Between 2007 and 2009, it was clear that the Japanese creator was invested in Sony's handheld, while he himself was undoubtedly aware that this technological choice would not bring his work the same recognition as publishing his games on a home console. But Kojima seemed attached to his idea, as a provocation aimed at the fans, as shown by the first visuals and logos—this really was Metal Gear Solid V: Peace Walker. One thing was certain, however: the name change that came later may have been a repudiation, or perhaps a bluff, but it was certainly no surprise. Some will remember that Metal Gear Solid 2 on PS2 had itself briefly been considered the third installment in the "Solid" sub-series before being renamed. Even so, Peace Walker did enter the official timeline, despite lacking the numbered suffix that would have given it far greater prestige, symbolic weight and sales. By comparison, Metal Gear: Ghost Babel and Metal Gear Ac!d are considered side episodes. Ac!d, also released on PSP, was simply a turn-based card game; Kojima believed at the time that a true MGS could not be adapted to a handheld format. Yet another about-face followed two years later with Metal Gear Solid: Portable Ops. After achieving a modest critical success, the latter seems to be the exception that proves the rule. Despite its "Metal Gear Solid" label, which it retained to the end, Hideo Kojima never fully embraced the episode—the title is absent from every compilation—as he believed that the game's events, which took place directly after the PS2 episode MGS 3: Snake Eater, hindered the story he had envisioned. This was already a curious reversal for someone who had said he would wait for the game's script to be written before moving on to... MGS 4 on PS3. But Kojima clearly distanced himself from Portable Ops: you will not find the words "A Hideo Kojima Game" on the box, with Noriaki Okamura (producer of Metal Gear Solid: Digital Graphic Novel and director of Zone of the Enders) taking on the role of producer and Shinta Nojiri (director of both Ac!d games) serving as director.The Medals, but Not the Glory
A good PSP game in its own right, Peace Walker is therefore unusual in that it is a recognized building block in the sixty-year history separating all the episodes of the Metal Gear franchise. But what truly stands out about the title? Recruiting soldiers to build an army? We've seen it before, and it was handled better in some respects in Portable Ops. Managing the troops? A strong point of Metal Gear Solid: Peace Walker... which we had already experienced in Portable Ops. The result is more varied, that is true, with the introduction of the Mother Base (the home of Big Boss's army) and the construction of a real Metal Gear, but building an army was better integrated into the disowned episode. You can see your comrades in arms throughout the adventure in Portable Ops, whereas they make only brief appearances in PW. While you could use your soldiers to replace Snake in the field in Portable Ops, keeping an eye on each member's abilities and weaknesses, the option is severely restricted in the other PSP episode. Recruits are also easier to convert thanks to the Fulton balloon, which immediately transfers your candidate to the base, whereas in MGS: PO you had to laboriously carry stunned soldiers on your shoulders. Needless to say, you thought twice before infiltrating an area with a body in tow, but at least it let you choose your comrades carefully. Worse still, Peace Walker introduces no real innovation, reusing the gameplay elements of MGS3 in a less substantial form, along with a low walking stance borrowed from MGS 4, released two years earlier, while abandoning the ability to crawl (!). The introduction of an integrated codec is worth noting, allowing you to talk without pausing the game, but it proves less rich and interesting than usual.
Blasphemy and Cheap Pandering
More seriously, the boss fights—one of the series' defining features—are particularly monotonous here. Psycho Mantis's mental torture, the face-off against Olga beneath a barrage of fire, the duel to the death with The End? None of that is here: in Peace Walker, you fight only huge machines, lacking charisma (naturally) but also any real interest. Every boss boils down to spotting the weak point highlighted in red and firing as many rockets at it as possible while dodging a volley of missiles in a large arena. These fights were apparently designed with multiplayer in mind, following in the wake of the Monster Hunter phenomenon (the series adored by Kojima's son, who cares remarkably little about his father's), so the bosses take a long time to bring down, are difficult at first, and are rather boring. Even Portable Ops, despite falling well short of the series' standards, does much better, with a cast of characters far better integrated into the series' mythology. Campbell (the future Colonel of MGS 1), the young Gray Fox, and above all Gene, the game's main antagonist, all appear in it. Trained to succeed The Boss, he has built an army that follows him thanks to his natural charisma. As for Snake, or Big Boss, his personality seems paradoxically more complex, deepened by doubts about his mission and his status as a soldier. This duality is far more compelling than the fake stakes deployed in Peace Walker, with its easy references involving Otacon's father, and even its disturbance of The Boss in the grave where she has rested since MGS 3: Snake Eater, just to make her appear in an improbable immaterial form. Blasphemy, pandering, winks built like houses of cards... no, Peace Walker stops at nothing.
As for Paz and Chico, whom we will see again in MGS V: Ground Zeroes (the chronological sequel to MGS: PW)... the former initially wins Snake's sympathy, only to betray him in what will probably remain the most insipid conclusion in the series. The latter spends his time either whining at your side, pretending to be tough, or hiding in remorse after giving up his comrades. Zero attachment, much like the character of the same name who struggles to stay afloat in this ocean of failed or underused no-names. Once on Snake's side, he now stands against him. We can guess that he will soon shape the Patriots as we know them in MGS 2, but—alas—we never see him take part in events; he is merely mentioned in passing during conversations.
Inevitably, Peace Walker could hardly produce a good story with characters this hollow. It's simple: never had a Metal Gear story worked so hard to discourage you from completing the mission, although it must be remembered that the title has many of the qualities implied by its original designation. Unfortunately, The Boss's return is a farce that inspires neither belief nor laughter; as for the emergence of a nuclearized Metal Gear model, you can see it coming almost as soon as the game leaves its blue Micromania bag. One of the game's endings, which requires finding Zadornov SIX TIMES, leads into Paz's betrayal, as she steals Snake's Metal Gear and turns it against him. Left for dead at the end of Peace Walker, we will find her again in Metal Gear Solid V: Ground Zeroes without an excess of nostalgia—an episode that, on a trajectory perfectly opposite to that of Peace Walker, was canonized during development. A medal, it seems, that was a little too heavy to carry... 
