Mobile Suit Gundam: Extreme Vs. Full Boost Review (PS3)

When I booted up Mobile Suit Gundam Extreme VS Full Boost on my PS3, I wasn’t prepared. Not for the fan service. Not for the mechs. Definitely not for the sheer scale of it all. This wasn’t just a fighting game—it felt like I’d cracked open a digital museum of Gundam history, with every playable mobile suit polished and posed like it was ready to be put on display at a high-end anime exhibit. Even suits from the most niche, blink-and-you-missed-it Gundam side stories were here, standing shoulder to shoulder with the RX-78-2 like they’d always belonged.

It’s a dazzling spectacle—one that any Gundam fan would probably start hyperventilating over. The sheer volume of content on offer here is unreal. This is, without question, the most exhaustive Gundam roster ever squeezed into a video game, and it’s handled with more love and care than most anime tie-ins ever get.

But is it still worth diving into this digital coliseum of Gundams if you’re not a hardcore fan? Let’s break it down.

A Love Letter to Every Gundam Ever

Let’s get one thing straight: Gundam Extreme Vs. Full Boost isn’t just a fighting game. It’s a celebration—a full-blown festival—for everything Gundam. This game doesn’t just dip into the iconic hits like Mobile Suit Gundam, Zeta, or Wing. No, it goes deeper. Way deeper.

The roster here is absolutely bonkers. Mainline series? Of course. The blockbuster names like Seed, 00, and Unicorn are all accounted for.

Obscure OVAs? You bet. War in the Pocket, Stardust Memory, F91—they’re not just sprinkled in, they’re playable with full-blown mobile suits that look and feel right out of the anime. Even that one weird Gundam show you watched once at 3AM and never saw again? It’s probably in here.

There’s a real sense that this game was made by people who live and breathe Gundam. It’s fan service, but not in a lazy way. Every suit looks screen-accurate, every beam saber slash and boost-dash animation has been lovingly animated with that unmistakable arcade shine.

Visually, the game’s a knockout. Even running on the PS3, Full Boost flexes some serious style—models are sharp, cel-shading is used with restraint, and every suit has that perfect “toy-meets-war-machine” aesthetic. The color palettes, the proportions, the way the mechs move—it all screams authenticity.

Whether you’re piloting the RX-78-2 or flying into battle with the ∀ Gundam, you’ll feel like the star of your own episode. And for longtime fans, there’s nothing quite like seeing your favorite underdog mobile suit land the final hit in a chaotic 2v2 duel.

This isn’t just a roster. It’s a love letter—a fan-curated collection of Gundam greatness that somehow fits all those years, timelines, and side stories into one beautifully chaotic package.

Combat So Tight It Hurts the Dynasty Warriors Series

If you’re coming into Mobile Suit Gundam Extreme VS Full Boost expecting the sluggish, button-mashy chaos of the Dynasty Warriors Gundam games, let me stop you right there. This isn’t that. Not even close.

Full Boost is tight. Fast. Arcade to its core. Combat is built around 2v2 team battles, with a strong emphasis on positioning, timing, and coordination. It’s not just a brawl—it’s a dance, one where boost management and situational awareness are as important as landing hits.

Each mobile suit has a distinct playstyle, complete with ranged and melee attacks, special abilities, and movement quirks that make mastering your favorite unit a rewarding process. The lock-on system is buttery smooth, the boost-dash mechanic lets you zip across the screen like a mecha ninja, and the split-second decisions around dodging, parrying, and supporting your teammate give the game surprising depth.

It’s basically Gundam meets Street Fighter meets aerial chess.

And this is exactly where it leaves the Dynasty Warriors Gundam games in the dust. Those titles may be fun for mowing down grunt enemies, but they lack the precise, adrenaline-spiking tension that Full Boost thrives on. There’s no hacking through waves of Zaku clones here—every enemy you face is another real player or a skilled AI, and each battle feels like a test of nerves and skill.

The game supports local co-op and versus, as well as online play. And if you can find an online match these days (good luck unless you’re in Japan or part of a Discord group), it still holds up shockingly well. There’s also split-screen fun to be had if you’ve got a fellow Gundam geek nearby and a second controller handy.

The gameplay loop is short, sure—but when you’re in the zone, those 15-minute sessions feel like tournaments. It’s tight, it’s technical, and it absolutely rewards repeat play.

Born in the Arcade, Built for the Living Room (Kinda)

You can’t really talk about Gundam Extreme VS Full Boost without acknowledging its arcade roots. This thing was designed to suck down 100 yen coins in a bustling Japanese game center—not to be your Saturday binge game.

And that design DNA is everywhere.

The matches are quick. The menus are lean. The progression system? Barely there. It’s all about dropping in, blowing stuff up, and logging out before the novelty fades. And honestly, that’s fine—if you know what you’re getting into.

This game absolutely shines in short bursts. A 15–20 minute play session after work? Perfect. Two quick matches with a friend before bed? Gold. But sit down expecting a deep single-player campaign or hours of nonstop engagement, and you’re probably going to hit a wall—and hit it fast.

There’s a real adrenaline spike when you’re in the thick of battle, but that intensity comes in waves, not marathons. And without a vibrant multiplayer community to keep the matches fresh—or a compelling narrative mode to dig into—the game can start to feel repetitive pretty quickly. Especially if you’re flying solo.

You’ll likely find yourself cycling through suits just to keep the experience interesting, not because the game is pushing you to adapt or improve. It’s the gaming equivalent of a flashy fireworks show: spectacular, but fleeting. If you treat it like an arcade game, it’s a blast. If you expect it to be your next meaty JRPG timesink? You’re gonna be disappointed.

Lost in Translation (Literally)

Let’s address the beam saber-wielding elephant in the room: the language barrier. Technically, yes—you can play Gundam Extreme VS Full Boost without knowing a word of Japanese. The combat is intuitive, and the core gameplay loop doesn’t require you to decipher walls of text. Boot up, pick a suit, smash some buttons, blow stuff up. Easy.

But here’s the thing: if you don’t understand Japanese, you’re missing a huge chunk of the experience.

Menus, tutorials, unlock conditions, single-player campaign structures—all of it is locked behind kanji and katakana. And while fan wikis and translated guides can help you limp through it, the reality is: this game just isn’t built with global accessibility in mind. Even figuring out how to access certain modes or change your loadout can turn into a full-on Google Translate scavenger hunt.

The single-player modes, especially the ones added to make the home console version more robust, are just confusing if you’re not fluent. You’ll stumble through them, sure, but you won’t be immersed. You won’t know what characters are saying, why the mission matters, or what you just unlocked. And for a game already built around short-burst action, losing that little bit of context? It matters.

That’s why, in good conscience, it’s hard to recommend Full Boost to anyone but the hardcore Gundam faithful—the fans who already know these characters, who recognize the mobile suits on sight, who are here more for the spectacle than the story. If that’s you, you’ll probably have a blast despite the language gap. But if you’re a more casual player hoping to soak up every mode, every line of dialogue, and every narrative thread? You’ll be flying blind.

Final Verdict

Gundam Extreme VS Full Boost is like stepping into a Gundam-themed amusement park with the biggest ride lineup imaginable. It’s loud, stylish, and packed with so much love for the franchise, it practically bleeds Gunpla glue.

But it’s also burnout in a box if you treat it like anything more than what it is: a gorgeous, glorified arcade cabinet you can play on your couch. Treat it like the short, sweet burst of mecha mayhem it was meant to be—and you’ll have a blast. Expect more, and you’ll be reaching for the eject button faster than you can say “Newtype.”