Hige vs. Otaku

The patch will be out at the end of this week.

– MOTHER 3 Fan Translation

Glory be; I fear I may have just shit my pants.

Nintendo’s WiiWare feels different to its competitors’ equivalents. It accomplishes the same thing – relatively small, downloadable games that cost much less than their boxed siblings – yet two of its launch titles stand out as particularly distinct from the standardised fare of so-so indie games and revamped retro titles (luckily the Virtual Console removes the need for the latter entirely). Frontier’s LostWinds, a British game that’s sending people into throes of ecstasy, and Square-Enix’s Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles: My Life as a King, an unconventional contribution to the series, both offer something a bit more magical than the norm. They may well be the exception to the rule when it comes to consistent quality – god knows Nintendo no longer abide by their golden seal these days – but judged on their own merits both are excellent games.

FFCC: My Life as a King stands out because it’s the first WiiWare title released by a major third-party developer, it’s substantially longer than the other launch titles and, particularly for this blog, it’s Japanese.

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Derivative. Simple. Uninspired. After the first six hours of playing Blue Dragon you may well find yourself responding with, ‘Yeah, and?’ The criticisms levelled at this game (this review being something of a response rather than an analysis) seem to be built on misinformed expectations. Being the herald of JRPGs on the RPG destitute 360 platform, made by a creative team unmatched in the industry, people subconsciously set their sights to the sky. Apparently, these sights had a shopping list full of specific objectives that had to be met in order for it to be anything approaching a success. Whispers of Chrono Trigger’s dream team reforming whipped up irrational fantasy of what might be coming; the splintered Sakaguchi now owning his own production company encouraged theories of an experience more Final Fantasy than Final Fantasy had been for years. And all we got was Blue Dragon; dumb, pretty and a whole buggerload of fun.

The visual presentation of Blue Dragon is perhaps the least contentious aspect of the package. While faultless in terms of design (a university thesis could be written on the unanimous appeal of Akira Toriyama’s simplistic art style) the technical prowess of the game rarely astounds the player. It serves its purpose to a T, unquestionably, but there have been more spectacular examples of RPG visuals on PS2 games. But, as with most of Blue Dragon’s intentional restraint, flash is not the point. As a cohesive whole the game stands proud with the best of them in being consistently outstanding with its production values.

The gameplay, however, is where many players will feel tested. While archaic in many overt ways, Mistwalker have sympathetically applied a number of modern design ideals to Blue Dragon’s battle system to sooth the burn. Battles are turn-based and menu-based, but their instigation is entirely at the disposal of the player; no irritating random encounters to whinge about on comment sections and forums. The introduction of a field of attack – a sort of circular radius triggered by the left trigger that engages battle with all enemies within its circumference – makes tackling numerous enemies at once quite painless. Moreover, if you battle more than one set of monsters at a time Blue Dragon provides a slot-machine of stat boosts between each battle to help you on your way.  The battle system makes little effort to innovate the classic model, looking to refine rather than redefine, but it sits perfectly within the whole ethos of the game.

After searching through your first poo, avec charming ’squelch squelch’ sound effect, it becomes clear how to assess the achievements and failures of Blue Dragon. Obvious aesthetic similarities aside, Blue Dragon is more like Dragon Quest than Final Fantasy in that it, simply, is completely populous in its intentions; perhaps even to the point of being childish. No mature convoluted storyline; no fiddly battle system; no stats overload. Blue Dragon is a streamlined compilation of all that is pure about the genre and as a result a very enjoyable, albeit derivative, experience. If you come to play the game in the mind-set of a twelve-year-old with an eye for refined design values, then Blue Dragon is a worthy purchase. Come stamping towards it demanding Innovation, Drama, Emotion (befitting for its prodigious creative team) then seemingly you’ve missed the point. Blue Dragon is the Saturday morning cartoon of JRPGs; intensely charming, moreish in base, hard-to-articulate ways, but ultimately entirely disposable. 

I’m a firm believer in the prominence of graphics when considering video games. I know: no shit, Sherlock. But it’s always worthwhile to take a position in one of the most contested areas of debate in the gaming world. Nintendo’s Wii is perhaps the most brazen example of gameplay over technical prowess, giving a hearty ‘fuck you’ to the next-gen powerhouses of the 360 and PS3, and who succeeds will set president for a very long time after.

So, the point: Final Fantasy III is a 3D remake of the original NES game from 1990, and if it weren’t a complete visual makeover I’m sure my tolerance for its somewhat archaic gameplay would be greatly reduced. I’m not a graphics whore by any stretch, but the importance of aesthetics is undeniable and never moreso than in the genre of RPG. While the SNES Final Fantasies prove that 2D sprites are capable of representing genuine emotion and depth, it’s hard to agree that the NES era were capable of the same impact. And why would they be? Sakaguchi was well aware of his technical limitations and never aimed for the same story-telling heights as the later sequels. The point is, in Final Fantasy III’s case, the universally praised aesthetic beauty of the Final Fantasy games is going to be your entry point to an otherwise staunchly traditional (in all respects) gaming experience.

FFIII’s graphical presentation is hard to place. There are no pre-rendered backgrounds, so it’s difficult to liken to its PSone brethren in particular (even if the similarities are evidently there), but I’d be inclined to say it has a lot in common with Vagrant Story in a technical sense. Design-wise they’re worlds apart (though both works of Akihiko Yoshida) – FFIII’s cherubic character design is a strong contrast to Vagrant Story’s fantasy realism, but the jaggy, pixelated 3D environments share many of the same flaws. This isn’t particularly upsetting, though, because FFIII uses its 3D engine well and presents much of the visual charm the Final Fantasy games have come to be known for. Nobuo’s music is as beautiful as it’s been in MIDI form, and sound effects are decent in their subtly. 

Gameplay-wise, this game is very much an issue of fan tolerance vs. actual forward-thinking gaming merit. To reiterate the abiding consensus: it’s a NES remake, and a very close one, for better or worse. Shrewd gamers would’ve assumed this from the beginning and came to experience without the expectation most have when approaching a new FF instalment. The gameplay is either charmingly classical or rigidly archaic depending on your memories and patience for the Final Fantasy catalogue.

I’m quite an accommodating fan myself, loving the reliable degree of quality in most FF games above everything apart from their design flare, so this experience remained amiable and addictive throughout. I never had a distinct feeling of ‘contributing’ that often drives me through RPGs, but the sense of achievement is still there and as enticing as ever, even amongst the limited design choices that often feel clumsy and restrictive, objectively speaking.

Popular opinion suggests portal systems like the DS aren’t suitable for the protracted RPG experience, but with the advent of the quicksave feature this isn’t really much of an issue anymore. If anything, the disposable nature of FFIII’s story and inherent playability of its battle system make it quite suited for the pick-up-and-play mentality. If we were talking about a console instalment both these issues would be crippling flaws, but a twenty-minute levelling-up drive has never felt as comfortable when it’s on the bus, or the dead zone between breakfast and work/school/life.

Conclusion
Final Fantasy III, in the objective, rational world of gaming journalism, is a 6 out of 10 game. In the world of nostalgia and fanboyish lenience, it’s a good 8 or 9. The Final Fantasy charm is there in abundance; it’s suitably challenging and enjoyably so – even within the confines of its own underdeveloped, restrictive design; the sense of history will make fans smile, and it’s presentation is lovely. Before handing over the cash, you need to ask yourself why exactly you’re buying this game. If you’re hot off the back of Final Fantasy XII, you need to stop yourself and play your way backwards up to this point as a form of rehab. Buying this game with the mindset of a modern FF fan is just a bit silly; it’s the third game in a (current) set of twelve. I don’t need to explain the relevance of this fact. If you’re approaching FFIII as a novel curiosity, however, you’ll be pleasantly surprised on most fronts. Bar perhaps Mario & Luigi: Partners in Time, it’s my favourite DS RPG so far. Final Fantasy games are usurping little fuckers, aren’t they?    

I agree with deftoned: people need to blog more about their current
gaming exploits. One of the main reasons I never specified HvO as an
anime blog (rather a more generalised ‘Japanese stuff’ blog) was so I
could just do that. There hasn’t been much recently because I bagged a
review job at a legitimate games review site (Gamers Europe), so
everything I’ve written about games has been posted there and about
stuff I probably wouldn’t buy myself (none of which have been Japanese,
either). 

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Somehow I should be more excited about playing games that look as good in real time as most do in their pre-rendered FMV, but really I’m just jaded to the whole affair. Perhaps my old age has, urgh, matured me beyond being impressed by graphics and I now value the less aesthetic-dependant aspects of a game. Or perhaps graphics are hitting a plateau and the sense of design is what really elevates a game beyond its peers. Regardless, the next-gen world of uber polygon counts just doesn’t give me the same buzz I had ten years ago when the SNES/Mega Drive > PSX change-over took place. Yet, if there’s any game that can be relied upon to have a fantastic sense of design it’s Final Fantasy.

FFXIII no less! Before XII has even graced Western shores! Really, I think Squenix’s approach with ‘revealing’ FFXII all those years ago was much more affective. None of this full motion, in-game trailer business; just a beautiful teaser poster that gave you bugger all clues (forewarning to the epic development time we wonder). Well, given the atrocious wait period for Europeans and FF games, I should probably get used to huge void of information:first-hand experience. It’s hard living in the first world, eh?

My immediate impressions after watching related to ‘A female protagonist? Feminist high five!’ that was swiftly demoted to an ‘Oh . . .’ when I found out Motomu Toriyama was directing. My only experience with the man is the distinctly mediocre FFX-2, which consequently wasn’t the most empowering game for women with its Sailor Moon dress-up and sassy Charlie’s Angels posing. Still, the female character here seems to be more serious, more inclined kick arse in order to more forward than strike a pose and pout. Not to suggest as she doesn’t pout however, but it’s all done with serious intent. Her movements bare a striking resemblance to FFVII: Advent Children’s Tifa as she bounces off the walls with gravity-defying acrobatics.

In terms of character design and general aesthetic I like what I see. FF’s golden child Tetsuya Nomura continues to mix his taste for the ostentatious with robust, expressive anatomy with his usual flare. The high sci-fi feel has the distinct whiff of the latter two Matrix films while still feeling distinctly FF. I suppose they are the new standard for sci-fi work now Star Wars has been put to rest. Still, it doesn’t detract much and Squenix’s unique style is executed with the usual authority. FFVIII fans will be happy to know that the gunblade make an interesting high tech comeback, too.

From the briefest glimpse we get at the battle system it seems similar to FFXII in the ability to move in real time as you fight. Whether this will translate to a true real-time battle system it’s impossible to say. The sense of movement seems much more dynamic with FFXIII, which could suggest more interaction than just walking your character around the environment, but it could easily be the snappy editing of the trailer. Of course, Toriyama’s involvement implies a much faster, frenetic battle system and what we’re shown here certainly supports that assumption. I’m definitely interested, either way. I appreciated FFXII’s move from the traditional ATB and I’d welcome more innovation.

The trailer certainly caught my interest. The suggestion of a female protagonist humoured the raging feminist in me (named Delores, apparently) and the overall feel of dynamism in movement was very exciting. While the character and environment design look top notch, the colour scheme struck me as somewhat lurid and the influence of the Matrix films could potentially be damaging. The short clip of music we get is a bit underwhelming, too. But still, it’s a Final Fantasy game, so the tolerance level for the occasional fault is much higher than usual. And this was merely a three-minute glimpse into a certified epic.

The trailer can be viewed here. Special thanks to Memento for providing the link.

Developed: Monolith Software
Produced: Namco
PlayStation 2 PAL

Plot & Characterisation
For Xenosaga these two areas of discussion are more important to it than any other game you’re likely to play for a while, let alone the oft-story/character driven genre of RPG. Xenosaga relishes in its cut scenes and this is the key area of Xenosaga 2 where you’ll gain most of your enjoyment, or not, of course, depending on your preference. The line between being a player and a viewer is never as blurred as it is with Xenosaga, so I’ll take this moment to flash that familiar warning of ‘if you don’t like cut-scenes, don’t play this [bloody] game!’ (parenthesis to empathise). Now assuming you who continue to read are in the ‘don’t mind’ camp onwards, there’s some good news: the cut scenes are fucking ace. The direction is professional, emotive, downright exciting during the two sword fight scenes (standing up with anything you might’ve seen on the screen, big or small) and they generally push the sophisticated plot along excellently. The biggest complement I think you can level at a game where you spend as many hours watching as you do playing is that you don’t care; time spent watching is time well-spent.

Of course, none of this would have a leg to stand on if the characters lacked the necessary credentials for you to care. And in the key cases of Jr., Shion, and MOMO (the formers being the consistent protagonists throughout and the latter having a decent chunk dedicated to her) they do. While suffering from much of the issues number twos in trilogies tend to have, this game does feature a lot expedition and heavy exploration of its main characters respective histories, but again it’s all so damn interesting and appropriate to the bigger picture. Granted, the characters don’t reach Evangelion levels of complexity or really deviate from the kind of archetypes you might expect from Japanese sci-fi, but they definitely warrant enough pathos and likeability to be a success.

But don’t let these generally positive points gloss over the problems Xenosaga 2’s story. The game really could’ve done with being another twenty hours longer (average gamers getting about 30 or so hours from it), if only to provide more explanation of the context in which everyone is acting the way they are. It just doesn’t feel like people and situations are developed enough for things to flow smoothly from one event to the next. And Jr. definitely dominates the plot, leaving other characters neglected; even the series’ figurehead KOS-MOS isn’t much more than the muscle in this episode, and after the amount of intrigue and mystery whipped around her in the first game this grates slightly.

No doubt you have to consider there’s one more game to come and much of the remaining questions may be resolved in that final instalment, but there’s definitely a feeling of resolution lacking rather than purposefully excluded here. There are questions that would’ve made much more sense to answer now and would’ve gone a long way to improving the comprehensibility of the story. Plus with the revelation of Xenosaga/Xenogear creator and writer Tetsuya Takahashi with his co-writer wife Soraya Saga leaving the project, it causes an uneasy feeling of turmoil over the resolution of the series.

Gameplay
Perhaps the weakest area of Xenosaga 2 is its gameplay. Yet, it’d be unfair to describe it as ‘the bits between the movies’, because there’s a comprehensive battle system that is often challenging and entertaining, but still there are many problems with it and elsewhere that detracts from the experience. First let’s consider the two methods of battle in the game:

The first is the variety that is character-based with a combo system designated to the square, triangle and circle keys of the PS2 joypad. With this there’s zones associated with each button and each variety of enemy has a weakness to a certain combination of buttons. Hit the enemy with this winning combo enough and you’ll be able to ‘break’ them, afflicting either an air or ground status (i.e. you either flick ‘em up into the air or pound them into the ground). This leaves them vulnerable to a whole new world of damage that can further be supplemented with the ability to stock attacks for the cost of a turn, providing that character with three extra attacks once full. On top of this there’s also a boost system that, with the tap of an R button and the corresponding button-to-character, can cause an ally to interrupt the next turn and join in with unloading their stock onto the incapacitated foe. Sounds pretty filthy, don’t it? There’s a definite sense of satisfaction when you pull off an epic joint smack down with all your characters on a particularly infuriating boss. But as I’ve said, there are problems. First is the matter of guesswork involved trying to find an enemy’s weak zone and corresponding combination. This doesn’t irritate so much with normal enemies, and there is a skill that allows you to memorise the combos and have them show up on the information screen in-battle, but with boss battles it can often be make or break (pardon the pun). The bizarre status affects of each turn are more confusing than useful, it frequently being chance that you do a certain action in relation to them that will benefit you.

The second method of battle involves two of your character’s E.S – large, elaborate-looking mecha that explore environments too hazardous for your characters to tread. This system is much less sophisticated than the first, often requiring you to simply stock (charge) then attack, stock then attack, etc etc. These charged attacks vary depending which combination of characters you assign to pilot each E.S, which provides a degree of tactics in your style of play but not much. Luckily E.S. battles are much less common than the character-based but still, it feels like an underdeveloped aspect of the game.

‘Undeveloped’ is a word that dogs Xenosaga 2’s gameplay in general. The skill system is basic and directionless, the same sets available for every character reducing their individuality in battle. Really, the only thing that differentiates them is the kind of attack their weapon has (be it piecing, slashing, aura-based etc.) and what they have equipped. The in-game puzzles are unchallenging and tedious. The ‘Global Samaritan Campaign’ that provides most of the side quests is just as bad. Apart from the battle system, which is fundamentally quite fun and challenging (especially with the numerous boss battles), there isn’t much to motivate you from one exciting cut-scene to the next apart from the promise of the fantastic cut-scenes themselves.

Graphics and Sound
The graphics of Xenosaga 2 are above par, acceptable for this generation of RPG on the PS2 but not dazzling. The character models are attractive and expressive, more realistic than their predecessors and better for it in my opinion. The sense of design is quite unified and well realised without really pushing the boat out – it’s all quite typically sci-fi. In contrast, sadly, the environments that you interact with commonly feel sterile and bland, sometimes even feeling like independent set pieces rather than a cohesive whole or appropriate to the situation. The issue of character model’s hands being manikin-like during the in-game cut-scenes is a fair criticism as well, as they play a key role in the body language of the cast and there’s really no reason why Namco couldn’t animate them properly.

However, in fairness, there are moments when the in-game graphics impress. The wind farms spinning serenely in the background of a rare pastoral setting; the slick, cleanly metallic look of New-Miltia; the hugely intimidating feel of the E.S. and their foes. Still, most of the wow-factor of Xenosaga 2’s visuals lies in the motion capture cut-scenes. And there are some truly mind-bending moments throughout the game that I won’t spoil here, but trust me when I say they’re worth the effort to see. Again while some areas graphically remain simply quite good, the FMV stand-out as excellent.

The voice acting of the game is of decent quality. I recognise Jr.’s voice from a lot anime (usually the generically irritating young boy) and for some reason it doesn’t bother me here as it usually does. Shion’s voice actor has a number of impressive moments and the rest of the cast remaining appropriate to their characters. Albedo may get on your nerves with his hysterical squealing voice, but he only appears for a small amount of time. Music-wise there’s nothing that stands out. The sweeping orchestral score from the first game is gone in favour for a low-key, predominantly synth-based soundtrack. It’s not especially bad, just disappointingly mediocre.

Conclusion
As a cinematic RPG Xenosaga 2 is definitely enjoyable, verging on brilliant at times with an intriguing story and likable characters. However, as you might imagine, because it’s such a story-driven piece of work the gameplay suffers and has a number of issues. The battle system has many things going for it, however, and provides an interesting challenge that will probably result in more Game Overs than you’re used to with RPGs. The presentation is quite uneven at times, but respectable voice acting and some truly excellent FMV make up for its faults. Personally I enjoyed this game and if you’re a fan of RPGs and don’t mind a cut-scene bonanzas then it’s certainly worth your time.