The Familiar Refrain: Black Ops 7 and Call of Duty's Lingering Identity Crisis

Remember when a new Call of Duty felt, well, genuinely new? A bona fide event, each iteration promising some fresh, electrifying twist on the first-person shooter formula? It feels, honestly, a little less so these days, doesn't it? And perhaps nowhere is this sense of a franchise grappling with its own reflection more apparent than in the latest entry, Call of Duty: Black Ops 7.

You see, it's not that Black Ops 7 is inherently bad. Far from it, in fact. There are moments, flashes of that signature CoD brilliance—a satisfying killstreak here, a particularly explosive campaign set piece there. But as you sink deeper into its various modes, a rather unsettling question begins to bubble to the surface: what, exactly, is this game trying to be? And more crucially, what is Call of Duty, as a whole, anymore?

The campaign, for instance, offers a narrative that, while competent enough, rarely ventures beyond the expected. We’re given the usual geopolitical intrigue, the morally ambiguous choices, and the bombastic, cinematic sequences we’ve come to associate with the series. But there’s a distinct lack of innovation, a feeling that we’ve tread this path many times before, just with different faces and slightly tweaked plot points. It’s polished, yes, but also a bit... paint-by-numbers, a journey we embark on not because it's compellingly fresh, but because, well, it's there.

Then, of course, there’s the multiplayer—the true, enduring heart of any Call of Duty experience, or so it's always been. Black Ops 7 delivers what you'd expect: frenetic gunplay, a vast arsenal, and a progression system that keeps you hooked. But again, the pervasive sense of déjà vu is hard to shake. Maps feel like variations on familiar themes, weapon meta shifts feel incremental rather than revolutionary, and the core gameplay loop, while undeniably addictive, doesn't offer anything genuinely surprising. It’s like revisiting a beloved old haunt; comforting, sure, but without the thrill of discovery.

And the Zombies mode? A cornerstone for many Black Ops aficionados, it too seems to exist in a kind of limbo, caught between honoring its quirky legacy and attempting to introduce new elements that don't quite land with the same impact. It’s functional, even fun in short bursts, but it lacks the spark, that unique identity that once made it such a distinct and memorable part of the Black Ops package.

Ultimately, Black Ops 7 isn't a disaster. It's a perfectly playable, at times enjoyable, installment in a long-running series. But its greatest — and perhaps most troubling — achievement is how clearly it lays bare the franchise’s current predicament. It feels like a series in search of itself, a titan of gaming unsure of its next step. Is it a historical shooter? A near-future one? A gritty realism simulator or an arcade-style romp? At present, it seems to be trying to be all of them, and consequently, none of them fully. And in that scattershot approach, you could say, lies the root of Call of Duty's current, very human, identity crisis.