SEGA’s Virtua Fighter got its start in 1993 as one of the first 3D fighting games, and its core gameplay remains as basic now as it was then: there are no supers, there are no fatalities, and there are no big, bouncing breasts. VF opts for a simpler, rock-paper-scissors approach to combat: guard beats hit, hit beats throw, throw beats guard. This system is perfected in VF5, so no novice will ever button mash their way to victory against an experienced opponent. For those into very technical fighting, this game is unmatched.

There are two main modes: Arcade and Quest. Arcade is the classic “beat this series of characters to get to the credits,” but it does offer timing and score incentives that can be measured against a leaderboard. Quest is a more robust mode that works by giving the player a map of SEGA arcades in Japan and letting them challenge a computer controlled opponent at one of three machines in each arcade. Just like classic arcade fighting, you stay on the machine until you lose. The difficulty curve in Arcade is rather steep, while in Quest it seems too flat; but with ranking, clothing, and emblem upgrades, this is quickly forgotten, and VF5 soon turns into the “just one more fight” game that lasts hours and hours.

This is mostly due, again, to its fighting system. If an opponent is attacking you, it’s easy to know what to do to get around it. Actually getting around it is a little harder, but there are never “cheap” moments in the gameplay, which is a lot to say about a fighting game. There’s so much depth and variety in the moves that pulling off a cool combo during a match takes a lot of practice and some really good timing. Once you do, though, it feels akin to throwing the perfect pitch or nailing the sweetest grind. The core mechanics really make or break a fighting game, and for Virtua Fighter 5, they propel it well above “just another fighting game.”

Though, even with its great mechanics, the game is still flawed in some key areas. It suffers from many strange design choices—such as winning gold only when losing a match, or having only certain moves demonstrated in its training mode—that leave the player scratching their head. Also, while the game is called Virtua Fighter 5: Online, it has very little to offer in terms of online modes. A simple versus mode, albeit with almost no lag (ala DOA4), does little to satisfy the appetite of a hungering online populous. It’s a nice way to extend the game for those in need of friends, but, considering Japanese arcades have the ability to watch real-time matches, view other players’ replays, and see daily, weekly, and monthly wins/losses, it seems a shame that AM2 decided to strip the online mode to a skeleton of itself for the console versions.

The game’s largest flaw, though, is not being scalable. Sure, after hours and hours of playing, I don’t want a rookie to kick my ass, but it sucks when you have a room full of people at different skill levels and no handicaps to even things out so everybody has a good time. This also makes the game very intimidating for new players to pick up in front of a group of experienced veterans. It’s as though once you get into the VF5 fraternity/sorority, you can never hang out with non-VF5 members.

Virtua Fighter 5: Online is definitely one for the fans—a balanced, varied, and fair game that offers enough content to quench the thirst of any martial arts aficionado. While the online play is sorely lacking, the game’s core mechanics and replayability more than make up for it. Just remember, this is not a party, this is serious training.