When I started my attempts at internet blogging about two years ago, one of my first entries was on Persona 3. What drew me to that game was the nature of the enemy, and the futility of the conflict. The ultimate evil in that game was Nyx. It was a being of death manifested by and attracted to the negativity of mankind. It knew no malice and did not seak power. It was instead manipulated by mankind's unconcious negativity. Our heroes fought against it, and even with the "Power of the Universe", the strength to perform miracles, all the main character could do was use his own life force to create a seal, blocking Nyx off from man kind's thoughts.
The conflict was against a being of man's own creation and unconscious manipulation, and fighting against it directly was futile, as refuting the will of all mankind with just your own was futile. Far outside the JRPG norm, this is what made Persona 3's story appeal to me. When Persona 4 came around, I loved it, and yet couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment because of how the balance of power played out in the conflict. The heroes fought against the monsters, and each time came out victorious. Personal acceptance of one's demons became less life threatening as the ability to fully subdue them over and over was always there. And then came along the Persona 4 anime. Within the last 3 episodes, we have seen three boss fights and none of them gave us an Investigation Team victorious on their powers. Narukami fought Shadow Yosuke to a standstill at best. Shadow Chie had Jiraiyah and Yosuke tied up with her bondage hair. Shadow Yukiko's flames were more than even Pyro Jack's absorb flame affinity could handle. Once is a fluke, but three is a trend. The conflict puts emphasis on the futility of combating psychological beasts with brute strength. Every time, it took a change in mind set on the part of the host to give our heroes a fighting chance. While the criticisms of melodramatic nature of the self-acceptance is understandable, in this sense, it also makes sense. One cannot win through fighting, and hold the shadow back is already a near impossible task. The priority is acceptance, one that the heroes need to work towards through emotional appeals more than anything else. The change in this emphasis is also backed up by an expansion on the back story and motivations of the characters that I have praised in previous writings. The true source of Chie and Yukiko's friendship, the set in stone routine of Yukiko's life at the inn, what people really think about Yosuke behind his back, these moments help gives depth to this new priority.
Persona 3 showed the supreme power of the subconscious. It is good to see the Persona 4 Animation following in those foot steps.
2 Comments
Social Links are the non-linear story threads of the game. It allows for the player to delve and discover the depths of the many side characters the game throws at you. They are not required for progression, and yet are essential for fully experiencing the game. However, they are again, non-linear. Persona 4's attempt at translating this into the linear anime format leads to success and failure, both conveniently placed in the same episode.
Episode 3 begins with what is probably my favorite scene so far. As you develop the Chie social link, one of the later levels has Chie telling you about how her and Yukiko met, little lost puppies and all. It helps further develop their friendship. The show takes perfect advantage of this, placing it within the same episode as Chie's confrontation with her shadow.
Her hidden motivation for being friends with Yukiko, the enjoyment of being Yukiko's master, the latter whom cannot do anything without her, is meant to be her true face. The game responds to this not with grim acceptance at her own perverse motivation, but with a "the ends justifies the means" kind of attitude, that as long as she and Yukiko are friends, nothing else matters. This has never sat all that well with me. It wasn't a true acceptance of self, but pretending its alright because of what it results in.
However, by adding the social link scene so early on as the show has done, it brings a new level of legitimacy to this line of thinking. Chie and Yukiko befriended each other long before this perverse relationship between them came into being. They became friends as children, innocent of all the faults that currently tarnish them as teens. Their relationship had a pure beginning, and that's what counts in the end.
On the other side of this magnificent scene however we have the symptoms of over indulgence in references rearing its head. A proper reference gives much to those that catch it, but does not take away from those that do not. And the following moments fail this rule.
There was no reason for the Kou Ichijo scene, and its presence felt very much like a "hey, remember this guy" moment. The sports team social link however is not the only one at fault. It merely is the least subtle. In the second episode, the auditorium announcement is preceded by a quick pan of the teachers standing on stage. And of course, one was a gym teacher, one was wearing a pharaoh head dress, and one had his right up holding a sock puppet. Not as heavy handed as the Ichijo moment, but any viewer unfamiliar with the game would probably look at the characters, and be dismayed by the ridiculousness. In other less analytical news, Narukami's cheating ways continue. Two more rank ups in stats and pyro jack all before Yukiko's castle is even finished? How dirty are you going to play.
2 Comments
Adaptations are tricky things to get right. Cross-medium adaptations are even more difficult. Like others before it, Persona 4 wades its way through trying to capitalize on the source. And like others before it, the results are mixed, though I'd say it succeeds more than it fails thus far.
Both in visual and audio, the episode strives for familiarity. Tracks from Persona 4's OST are inserted properly through out the episode with the OP theme being the opening track for the game in full. Visually, things like the above calender and the persona summoning eye catch are seen, certain to bring much delight to fans of the game. The usage of the status growth screen as the episode eye-catch is particularly interesting. One can only speculate, but perhaps they will let it develop just as it did in game, hinting at possible S.link based plot points in up coming episodes as it reaches the proper number of courage points to down the curry. Max Knowledge FirstAs I said previously though, its attempt at familiarity is both success and failure, and I don't just mean how the MC's name is not "Charlie Tunoku". Certain scenes simply do not translate from game to anime all too well, the most obvious being the initial entry into the television world. The televised version simply felt rushed and Yosuke's urine antics leading to the falling into the TV, instead of delivering a good laugh as it did in game, had me raising an eye brow at in annoyance at how absurd and poor that scene felt. BUFUThe MC's silent protagonist retreatment also bears mentioning. One can count the lines of dialogue he has in the episode on your fingers and toes. While that is not bad unto itself, his incredibly reserved, shy, and passive personality is simply not the type of character he presented himself as in game, regardless of player decisions. Things do get a bit more lively and heated during the combat scene (and I don't just mean when he starts stripping) as he utters a few emotion filled lines, and one can only hope his personality does not remain so blank. Delicious Jacket UnbuttoningFamiliarity is a double edged sword, and perhaps Persona 4 will wield it well. The first episode was far more good than bad despite my criticisms, and one can only hope it keeps going that way.
27 Comments
Note: Can't seem to upload images at the moment, so you'll have to make due with this giant wall of text for now.
In the quick look for Dynasty Warriors Gundam 3, the staff made many criticisms of the game. While people can battle over the validity of some of the things said, there was one particularly poignant remark made by Jeff that is spot on. It was that the lines of dialogue were poorly done. They felt disjointed and did not form coherent mid battle banter. Viewers familiar with Gundam shows can tell you why. Those lines were simply quotes lifted directly from their respective shows, and placed within the game with a complete lack of context.
Cross-over games are not easy to do. Many fail simply because of poor game mechanics. However, the far more difficult thing to achieve has been proper usage of their source materials. Story justifications for any such melding of the worlds are thrown out the window almost immediately. There is however a series that seems to get things right, and I would argue is the best cross-over game I have experienced to date in taking advantage of their source materials. Here, I would like to examine just what Super Robot Wars does right that many do not.
There is a inside joke amongst Super Robot Wars fans that Banpresto has a three year rule. No mecha will make it into the game until 3 years has past since its original debut. (The image to the left is actually a mock fanart of the series Eureka Seven in a SRW game, made years before the release of SRW Z which included the show a full three years after its original airing.) When asked about this directly, the Banpresto developers denied this, but offered the reason why this seems to be a prevailing trend: story. A lot of time is spent trying to weave the plots of various, vastly different shows into a single coherent storyline. The latest game in the franchise, SRW Z2 debuted 8 new series, and incorporated the major plot points from each of them, and meshed it together with the usage of their own in-game characters aptly dubbed Banpresto Originals. While not exactly Shakespearean in quality, these games' carefully crafted story lines give the game itself a degree of forward momentum more than simply "I want to see what this guy's attacks look like." Further, it is this plot which intermingles the cast of the shows together for prolonged period of time in continuity that allows for this next point.
It is worth pointing to the first game in this long reigning franchise. The original SRW was a gameboy game released in 1991. It did not feature any pilots, and instead made the robots sentient, and had them team up to fight a planet of enslaved robots. This was the last time a SRW game was like this. What made the shows so popular were not just the robots themselves, but also the personalities and traits of the pilots.
A proper plot allows for such personalities to interact with each other in very satisfying ways. The infamously wimpy characters like Shinji of Evangelion fame grows and develops as they are forced into the company of men like Bright Noah. It takes purely unlikable characters and make them far more badass than the source material ever could while giving iconic ones the ability to shine even better. Characters who have lost loved ones have the ability to consul each other. Pilot teams with lacking team work receives pointers from ones that learned to work as one. Things like that makes the mash up of various series that were never imagined to coexist feel far more cohesive and natural. It also makes long time fans like me feel warm and fuzzy inside as I listen to Kamina and Ryouma argue over who is the more hot blooded man.
Speaking of warm and fuzzy feelings for long time fans, the final point that the series excels at is fan service. Things like the interaction mentioned about is one form of it. However, there are far more specific ways the game appeals to those familiar with the source materials. The ability to keep alive characters that died tragic deaths as well as the ability to recruit antagonists that were ultimately good but misguided are some of them. The creation of new partner attacks by taking advantage of series with common creators is another.
My personal favorite however is the existence of voice actor jokes. Perhaps it is because of the voice actor culture that exists in anime and not in western cartoons, voice actors that become prolific within the genre reaches high levels of fame amongst fans. The games help reflect that with inside references when those series interact. The most notable for me is when the Turn X's Shining Finger attack is used against any character voiced acted by Tomokazu Seki, the VA for Domon Kashuu, the originator of that attack in an earlier show.
So what does Dynasty Warriors Gundam 3 need to improve upon itself? The customization of dialogue so that they form a coherent conversation and plot. Equal emphasis placed on both exhibition of the robots they pilot and the pilots themselves. And a degree of respect for the intersecting cultural legacies of many of its shows. While these things factors cannot be transplanted as directly to other cross over games like MVC, it is something that all developers need to get a grap on. Making a competant game is important. But taking full advantage of the history of your cast of characters is just as so.
Before anything else, lets get the criticisms out of the way for both those who have already seen Broken Blade or have read the manga and are eager to point them out, and for those interested in this 6 episode OVA and want a full picture. This is a show that puts the bulk of its attention behind the action elements. The characters are not unlikeable by any means, however they are not given enough camera time nor plot progression to fully develop. Relationships and back stories are stated but not explored. Many future character growths are hinted at, but fall short of the scope of the show. In that sense, the cast of Broken Blade leaves much to be desired. That said, Broken Blade is absolutely brilliant in another light. It succeeds in disproving the rule of cool that explosions enhance a combat experience, replacing it with something better.
Set in what the show suggests is a far future post apocalypse world, the setting of Broken Blade is devoid of oil or seemingly any other form of combustible energy sources. Instead, humanity as a whole have gained an unexplained power simply dubbed "magic" that allows them to control and manipulate a ubiquitous material called quartz through touch. This allows for the creations of hand tools, automobiles, ships, pressure guns, all through the usage of quartz technology. Of course, it bleeds over into military technology as well in the form of golems. Through the manipulation of quartz ligaments, these giant bipedal mechs do combat through both melee weaponry as well as pressure guns.
The genius of Broken Blade's combat is derived through this setting. Golems are designed in such a way that, because of their lack of any combustible components, nor anything outside melee or projectile weapons, there are no explosions. Things do not spark and smoke. Instead, a broken golem chips, cracks, and crumbles in extremely satisfying ways as the quartz they are composed of break apart like rocks do in real life. The action as a whole is given, quite literally, a very clear and visible form because of this design choice.
Further, the lack of smoke and explosions lets something else be seen unhindered: pilot deaths. Most mech shows have shots to the cockpit be either obscured by exploding control panels or, in the cause of wanting to emphasize a permanent death (and sometimes not even delivering that), engulf the scene with white light. Such techniques are not possible in Broken Blade, and the show is better for it. Character deaths of some significance are given more visual focus. There is no gore mind you, but when a pilot is killed during an *inside the cockpit* shot, there is no attempt at hiding the fact.
Lastly, there are the weapons. The lead mech of the show, like many other real robot anime series, is a super powered prototype far superior to the rest of the cast. However, not even the Delphine's far stronger physical capabilities is able to escape the limited weapons catalog of the setting it is placed in. The world has swords, lances, and pressure guns as weaponry for the golems. While the Delphine is a super robot in everything but name, its lack of any internal weapons systems means it is stuck using those said weaponry as well. In other words, the combat is crude in a way that ups the tension, and makes full use of the mecha design to give us good battle damage. A pressure gun will fire multiple rounds before downing a golem, each round creating a crack on the golem's frame. Physical weapons crushes and dents, at the same time finding themselves splintering under the force of the attacks. It is actually hard to kill someone, and that not only makes fights more exciting, it makes the few aces capable of dispatching a foe quickly all the more impressive.
Perhaps not for those looking for a depth in character and story, but Broken Blade set its eyes on a goal, and achieved it quite well.
Mobile Suit Gundam made its debut in 1979, and legitimized the entire real robot genre as something people wanted to watch. Up until then, mecha anime was
BREAST FIRE!!!! dominated by Super Robots. Flashy attacks, screaming out attack names, and neigh infinite power sources that broke every law of physics were common place and incredibly popular. What Gundam helped popularize was the concept of robots not being invincible. Realistic weapons such as plain old guns (giant guns but guns none the less) replaced the absurd like rocket punches and yo-yos. Energy and ammo became actual things that could run out in a fight, and the fictional world developed real wo r ld physics such as Larange Points as well as fake, but realistic sounding such as Minovsky Physics that helped create clean nuclear reactors. It was a far step from the world of "Super Alloy Z" and "Photon Power."
Twin Buster Rifle Anyone Thus it is even more ironic that Gundam could never pierce the realm of quasi-realism with its own Gundams. For example, the Zeta Gundam from G undam Z (the sequel to the first show) is literally powered by the spirits of dead newtypes and magic. The Nu Gundam and the Sazabiboth use psycommu systems , which in layman's terms are giant megaphones for a newtype's ESP-esque powers. Victory Gundam had giant girls in bikinis in space (Look I don't even know what...). The list goes on and on, and all the more so as we go from the Universal Century universe to the many Alternate Universe Gundam shows where Gundams are super robots in everything but name. These Gundams are ominpotent beings that can only be defeated by other Gundams. It doesn't stop just at the mecha design, but is applied to the combat itself. The rule of cool makes melee oriented combat a continued must in a world where ranged weaponry are common place. The samurai-like design choice for the iconic RX-78-2 Gundam doesn't help things.
Lastly, there are the pilots. They are constantly aces, often newtypes or some analog for a newtype. Capable of seemingly swinging the tide of battles single handedly, their plot armor means they not only cannot be killed, they cannot even be touched or damaged by the common soldier. Much like how Gundams can be taken down only by other Gundams, these aces are only capable of falling at the hands of each other.
And then there is the 08th MS Team. It succeeds, or perhaps is the only show to even attempt to bring Gundams down to earth, making them just another war machine instead of the stars of 30 minute long toy ads.
The first thing worth noting is most easily demonstrated with a simple viewing of the show's OP.
Ok, I lied. Many things are in fact evident through this OP, but lets take it one step at a time. We are treated to a scene showing the effect of terrain on mecha. A mere gunboat out maneuvering a Gundam in water is seen about half a minute in. Moments where the show almost admits to the fact that treads are better than bipedal legs for mechs are common in this show, or at least common compared to most other mecha shows, regardless of being real robot or super robot in genre. The second episode has the show's main protagonist Shiro Amada finding trouble getting his footing in a jungle battlefield, letting his Gundam trip and fall in the process. Too much sand getting caught in the machinery causes mechanical failure while oxygen preservation in zero g environments become focuses at different points.
Another point is the lack of flash and bravado in that OP. There is an emphasis on the soldiers fighting the war, not the mecha. You see a gundam firing but once in the OP, and it very much lacks the "one man against the world vibe" that many over Gundam show openings give. The contents of the show does not betray what the OP offers. The 08th Mobile Suit team is composed of 3 gundams. But always in toll, and constantly shown to be invaluable by the show itself, is an armored support tank that houses sensitive electronic senors. Further, instead of one man armies, we get squad and army tactics. The assault on an enemy base is not done by the main characters charging in, but by the systematic bombardment of long range artillery units while the gundams play babysitter to these units and keep them safe. The attack on a few Zakus occupying a civilian village is done by Shiro, on foot, using a few hand held RPGs while the rest of his team provide long range cover. Compare the previous OP to this one, belonging to Gundam Seed Destiny and the beam spaming Strike Freedom Gundam.
...Actually no, fuck you, you go find them. It physically hurts even watching one, and the music sucks too except for the 4th opening which has Vestige. Have some Gundam 00. It proves my point just the same.
The combat in the show are not flashy either. Though due partly to the in world chronology where miniaturized beam weapons were still very far from commonplace, there is little to no pew pewing in this show. Instead of lasers of every color under the sun, we get 100 mm machine guns, rocket launchers, and RPGs. This in effect makes fights last longer and almost less deadly as even a Zaku's armor can take multiple shots before succumbing while able to dish back significant blows. Melee combat is also significantly reduced. Beam sabers are drawn a total of 3 or 4 times over the course of the entire show, and always in desperation. In a world of guns, 08th MS Team ditches the rule of cool and embraces the logic that shooting each other is far better a choice than running up and slashing.
And lastly, there are the pilots. Following the theme of the show, these are not aces, but rather grunts. Grunts that can come out on top against other grunts, but grunts none the less. They aren't the most skilled, and the fact that they are actually capable of missing their shots gives the combat a degree of tension not usually existent when your protagonists are aces. In fact, when the 08th team finally bumps heads against the only pilot worthy of being called an ace in the entire show, they are pushed to the brink and given a sound trouncing as seen below. Note: obvious spoilers.
This is the ending where I'm suppose to say some concluding thoughts that tie up all the points I made so far. But I suck at those, so please imagine one for yourself.
23 Comments
The basic plot of the movie revolves around a highschool girl, Makoto, gaining the ability to time travel into the past, and using it for silly and frivolous purposes in an attempt to help herself and others. The movie is charming to say the least, however one big flaw prevents me from liking as much as I did Summer Wars, another movie done by the same director, Mamoru Hosada. That would be the pacing.
The majority of the film revolves around the adventures of Makoto time leaping, unintentionally causing trouble, mischief, and sometimes a little good. As I personally rather enjoy the slice of life/school romance drama genres, making such an ability (time travel) feel so ordinary and normal was very enjoyable. However, the plot shifts gears within the final 1/4th of the show and delves into where she gained her ability from, and the true nature of a character. Not only does this part, the "major plot point", feel rushed in its introduction and wrap up, it is somewhat atmospherically jarring from the rest of the film. More screen time should have been given to it, allowing it's setup to feel less like a sudden random plot twist for the sake of concluding the movie. After all, you can't end a film with slice of life all that effectively.
There are also a few minor issues. The characters don't feel developed well enough, especially considering there are essentially only 3 major characters. Considering Summer Wars whose cast of major roles were much larger and yet still managed to develop motivations personality for them effectively in short periods of screen time, this was somewhat disappointing. Then there's the two plot holes, how exactly does Makoto's aunt know about the concept of a time leap and the importance of that painting. However these two points are rather minor compared to everything else.
It sounds somewhat odd to say at the end of this string of criticisms that I still enjoyed the movie. The genres that comprised the majority of the film are genres of anime that I enjoy immensely. (Honey and Clover is one of the best anime of the previous decade and if you disagree you are wrong.) Makoto and her friends are all very likable, full of personality and humor in both facial expression and speech.
Considering this was Hosada's first film, and Summer Wars was his second, its safe to say I am very interested in what his third will be.
I conquered your previous two brethren and thus approached you with much confidence. You then proceeded to throw 3 poisonous platypus at me followed with a great lynx, on the very first floor, leaving me with a monk and a Zodiac at one hp. I beg for forgiveness for my hubris.
There are many reasons why the western audience seem largely put off by jrpgs. It ranges from basic gameplay mechanics to the story telling traditions. The one I'd like to take a closer look at today however is the fact that the cast of jrpgs have had the habit of always being children. This point was brought up on the massive 2chan message board and quite a few theories are tossed around, ranging from "games are for kids" to "kids are easier to empathize with" to "kids are better looking than old guys." The usual "better kids than muscle heads" complete the rounds. Obviously, the range in probability and intelligence within those response is fairly vast.
However, there were two takes on the issue that really drew my attention that I will actually quote in full below.
" I don’t know about America, but in Japan you get the most freedom in your life from middle school to university."
" Somebody in the original post said a Japanese person told him “highschool is the best time of your life for a Japanese.” I think this may be it. Japanese seem to think something important is lost when you grow up, like they worship a sort of childhood innocence. As a result JRPG protagonists are mostly youths. On the other hand, overseas becoming older is more like “levelling up” and getting access to more experience and status. We could even say the western view has a “dream” – life still progresses and improves after childhood."
For those that are familiar with high school based slice of life anime such as Azumanga Daioh and Lucky Star, you might recall that things like the summer trip, the yearly sports festival, cultural festival, etc, are corner stones of those shows, emphasizing the special moments of one's high school years that may or may not be an actual reality in Japan. For those that want a more GiantBomb related example, Persona 4 works well enough. You have your summer trip out of town, going camping, the unforgettable school festival, the hot springs scene with Naoto without a hat in a towel and....umm....where was I? Right. These events are not ones adults can experience and emphasizes a certain magical period of childhood. So to an extent, I can see merit in that line of though for why children are the preferred perspective through which many Japanese games are based.
So my question to you guys is do you believe this sentiment is true? That Japan as a society has a far bleaker take on growing up than the West? I was born and raised in China, moving to San Francisco when I was seven. Even then, I was strongly influenced by my parents' values in my "growing up" phase so I don't quite find myself all that well placed to answer the question from either side. My own personal view on childhood has always been a segment of my life that serves to prepare me for adulthood where the freedoms and "great times" aren't apparent until after I've grown up a bit. So while I do miss it, I do wonder if I'll view my twenties in the same light after another 8 years pass, and my thirties another decade after that. How about you?
On a side note: Yay, my 1000th post and a semi-intelligent one for once! (Oh, I guess blog posts don't add to your post count. WELP!) On a side side note: I'm not sure how I should feel about having Sankaku Complex be a fairly decent source of rather intellectually stimulating material for me.
With the recent "confirmations" of a PS3 bound Persona 5 as well as P3P being on the horizon, and likely the catalyst to me finally getting a PSP, I felt it reasonable to play through the original game. While we all know that the game is dark, what I had forgot was just how hopeless the ultimate conclusion to that game was. (Friendly note: Spoilers abound)
JRPG bosses tend to fit into two categories. They are either an entity that usurped the world in one way or another, or they are the powers that be that once guided the world but are no longer moving in the interest of humanity. (Of course there are numerous exceptions, but let's just pretend for the sake of the validity of this post.) They are actively influencing humanity, actively working towards domination of the world in one form or another. It is this point that separates them from Persona 3 as the game offers a relationship that is the exact opposite. Nyx is a being of death that is attracted by man's negative thoughts, and whose awakening and decent to Earth results in The Fall, where mankind falls into a near comatose state, resulting in the eventual death of everything. It is thus not influencing humanity, but rather being influenced by it.
To live is to die. They are one in the same.
With the usual fan fare, the protagonists choose to fight against Nyx, and the Fall is prevented. While this initially seems like a victory, what is interesting is that while Nyx's decent is ultimately prevented, the process also displayed the great futility in resisting the thoughts the entirety of man. The main character utilized, as according to Igor, "The Power of the Universe", a power that could perform miracles, in order to halt the threat. Further, that power came at the cost of his own life, as it was his soul that was used as the catalyst to form the wall. But ultimately, all he could conjure was the Great Seal, a wall preventing the negative thoughts of man from reaching Nyx. Nyx was not defeated, merely idling after having lost it's connection to man. Neither was humanity cured of the source of its problems: despair.
The events of The Answer in Persona 3: FES made this futility all the more evident. The climax of the game transports the remaining S.E.E.S members back to the moment the main character created the seal. There they find Erebus, the physical manifestation of man's negativity, and the messenger that would inform Nyx to descend to earth and end the world. They fight it hoping to destroy it, but ultimately resign to the fact that as long as man remains wishing for the coming of Nyx. All they could do was to try to make the most of their lives so the burden of the main character would be lightened.
While the overwhelming strength of the negativity of man has been an often used theme in other games before, this is the only one that I've experienced where it was a force one could not combat. Watching the main character slowly slip away resting on Aigis's lap gave me a great feeling of helplessness. The game's favorite phrase was memento mori, know that you are mortal. But our grief and anguish, they are eternal.
Log in to comment