LET'S GET #TeamJohnnyComeLately TRENDING ON TWITTER!
Hello, and welcome to my latest blog, and this time around, we have a special topic: Extra Life 2019. For those who managed to miss it, last weekend marked a majority of the site's streaming and participation for Extra Life 2019. As with previous years, there were dozens of "classic" moments ranging from drunken poetry to digital chicken dinners. Nonetheless, the Giant Bomb team has a ways to go before reaching its target of $250,000. Thus, it is always important to point out Extra Life DOES NOT end until ! For those of you who were unable to stream or donate due to financial or personal reasons, you still have plenty of time to help the Giant Bomb team reach its goal.
Likewise, there's no going around the technical issues that beset the event during its "peak hours." As many of you noticed, on November 2nd Extra Life's website was barraged by a detestable DDoS attack. For staff members and close friends of the site, this attack did not prevent them from raising thousands of dollars in a relatively short amount of time. Unfortunately, dozens of community members cut their streams short as donations came to a standstill. Again, it was a shitty situation, and I can only imagine Extra Life did the best they could with what they had at the time. With that in mind, I want to return to my earlier point about there still being time to have some Extra Life-based fun!
As most of you already know, I run the Giant Bomb Community Twitter account (aka @GBDudersFeed). During Extra Life, I spend most of my time trying to promote and advertise the staff and user-run streams during the event. For example, during the weekend of Extra Life, many community members and I took to Twitter and chat to guarantee every team member had at least one donation. Regardless, I have wanted to host an Extra Life stream for a while, but have felt torn about my obligations on Twitter and chat. However, this year, I decided to work with another moderator to host a dueling stream on the weekend following November 2nd. With that in mind, I want to turn my attention to any disappointed or possibly depressed community members. I want YOU to join me in streaming during the weekend of , as well as !
A bit of a disclaimer, I cannot guarantee we will reach our goals. For example, I have personally set myself a fundraising goal of $500 and am all but sure I will not achieve that. Nonetheless, I know many of you have already laid the groundwork for something great. Look, I hate getting emotional in these blogs and try to maintain a jovial and humorous tone as I torture myself with Final Fantasy games, but this is something I feel confident about right now. Having another go at something isn't a "defeat." It's "trying," and I know that might sound cheesy, but that's what I'm telling myself as I run up a mountain I don't know I can climb. Anyways, let's jump into my actual plans for Extra Life!
By The Way, I'm Playing Final Fantasy VIII... AGAIN!
Alright, I know what you are about to say! "But ZombiePie, didn't you play Final Fantasy VIII for charity three years ago?" The answer is "yes," and it was a miserable time! Seriously, the last time I tried to speedrun Final Fantasy VIII, it damn near killed me. But this time around, I know my limits and plan to budget my time wisely! Additionally, I will be playing the game alongside resident Final Fantasy expert, Gino "thatpinguino" Grieco! The two of us will be showing two different speedrunning approaches to breaking the game. Gino, for example, values speed and efficiency. I, on the other hand, prefer to break the game deliberately and thoroughly. How this turns into a "challenge" is the two of us will be trying to beat the game before the other.
Admittedly, Gino is leaps and bounds better at playing Final Fantasy VIII than me. Thus, to make this competition fairer, we have my donation incentives! Each time I raise $25, I will be able to play Final Fantasy VIII more efficiently. For example, as I will be playing the Remaster of Final Fantasy VIII, I will be able to utilize the game's quality-of-life features. This includes playing the game at double speed, disabling random encounters, or using unlimited Limit Breaks. However, even if I reach my fundraising total, I'm still at a bit of a disadvantage. Thus, if you donate to Gino's Extra Life page, you will make his ability to play Final Fantasy VIII far less efficient. Below you'll find each of our donation incentives:
Now, I can only assume you have a few questions, and luckily I have answers. First, the "helpful puzzles" are tricks and treats Gino physically mailed me without my input. I have no idea what is in these envelopes, though, he has assured me they are nothing that will harm my mental or emotional health. Likewise, you'll note the inclusion of music from the long-forgotten video game, Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood. For those unaware, Gino has referred to this game as one of the worst he's ever played, and I'm torturing him by forcing him to re-listen to the game's OST. If you are confused why this is such a big deal, here's one track from the game's soundtrack:
I Want To Talk About The Hospital I'm Raising Money For And Links!
So, that's most of what I wanted to say about my Extra Life stream this weekend. If all things go according to plan, I'll have a fun stream to share on Saturday and a "punishment stream" on Sunday. Seriously, I don't think I have a chance at beating Gino at Final Fantasy VIII. If there's one last thing I wanted to mention, it's the hospital I'm raising money for, UCSF Benioff Children's Hospital Oakland. I have a personal connection to UCSF Benioff Children's Hospital, and I debated if I wanted to tell this story, but here we go.
When I was five years old, I came down with flu-like symptoms that eventually led to an uncontrollable fever. After my pediatrician struggled to form a diagnosis, I was referred to the Children's Hospital & Research Center of Oakland, now known as UCSF Benioff Children's Hospital. While there, I was diagnosed with Kawasaki disease and underwent a five-day treatment process. I can say from experience how frightening it is to be a child and not know what's wrong with your body. It is a dreadful feeling. I also can say from experience that the people who work at UCSF Benioff Children's Hospital work around the clock to make the lives of sick children as enjoyable as possible. So, for the people who cared for me those many years ago, I hope whatever I raise this year is an appropriate thanks for your hard work and dedication to your profession.
Below are the links to my and Gino's donation pages.
Part 51: Thirty Hours In, The World Of Final Fantasy XII Becomes "Alive"
When we last met, our party was at the pirate haven, Balfonheim Port. There, they mulled over their options following their battle against Dr. Cid at Draklor Laboratory. Reddas, the de facto leader of the pirates, warns Ashe about Marquis Ondore's massive resistance fleet. With the Rozzarian navy assisting Ondore's efforts, even the slightest political shift could result in a global war. Basch fears Vayne is hoping to gather his opposition at a single location so he can use a piece of nethicite to obliterate them with ease. Afterward, Balthier reminds everyone Dr. Cid plans to meet them at Giruvegan. He states such a confrontation could provide an opportunity to use the Sword of Kings to destroy Cid's nethicite once and for all.
There are a handful of character moments at Balfonheim Port worth mentioning. Vaan pounces at any opportunity to interact with sky pirates and does so with child-like whimsy. And you know what? Vaan entirely works as a character during these scenes. Since the game's opening moments, we know Vaan fantasizes about becoming a sky pirate, and now his dream is within grasp. Not only does he "earn" the right to swoon with envy, but he treats everyone around him with the utmost respect. Better yet, since dispatching from Draklor Laboratory, he's toned down his smart-alecky one-liners in favor of genuine inquisitiveness. I cannot help but view this change as a massive improvement.
There are also moments when the story humanizes Reddas so you cannot dismiss him as a generic one-off character. When Vaan impresses him with his enthusiasm, Reddas turns to Balthier and jokes his "apprentice" is more of a sky pirate than him. Then, when Reddas parlays with Ashe, he asks how she plans to use Dr. Cid's nethicite. Ashe repeats she intends to destroy the shard but does not deny her desire to acquire anything that can safeguard Dalmasca's independence. Reddas doesn't judge Ashe, for he understands the emotions she's going through. Even so, he recalls the Empire's use of nethicite to destroy the city of Nabudis as a case study.
When our motley crew leaves Reddas' abode, they run into his lackeys: Rikken, Elza, and Raz. Undoubtedly, I cannot deny Elza's outfit is reprehensible. Nonetheless, because of how charming these characters are, they stuck with me. The game provides them with enough speaking time, so you don't forget their underlying conceits. Not to mention, Balfonheim Port continues Final Fantasy XII's tradition of using NPCs to lend a wholeness to Ivalice. The NPCs here are indisputably pirate-themed and have distinct quirks alien to the rest of the world. Yet again, the game manages to transport you to a world where you feel motivated to interact with everyone and everything around you.
All this adoration aside, there is one MASSIVE black mark against this portion of the story and Reddas' character arc in particular. As mentioned earlier, Reddas asks Ashe to reflect on the destruction of Nabudis. He is not the first person to cite the Empire's use of nethicite to wipe Nabudis off the map. However, in the case of Reddas, this singular event plays a crucial role in contextualizing his quest for redemption. As a result, it is A CRIME the Necrohol of Nabudis is an optional environment! Not only does it fill in a considerable gap to Reddas' character arc, but it also heightens the stakes of the story. Time and time again, we hear tales of the dangers of manufactured nethicite, but this is the ONE LEVEL, where we see what that means in context! It boggles my mind why this environment did not "make the cut," and yet countless other "filler dungeons" did.
Part 52: Final Fantasy XII's Reliance On Status-Effects Is Deflating
I'm going to keep my commentary about Final Fantasy XII's gameplay to a minimum. After six episodes, I have said all I want to say about its primary mechanics. Nonetheless, I still maintain my complete distaste for the game's default speed. Had I played the game at its standard rate, and without any of the Zodiac Age's quality-of-life additions, I would not have finished it. Besides, by the time I reached the game's final handful of dungeons, I started to notice something troubling. Not only was I struggling to get through the game's endless supply of trash mobs, but I was dying at a steady rate. I would say I saw more "Game Over" screens while getting through Giruvegan and the Pharos Lighthouse than the rest of my playthrough combined. There were a few reasons for this unfortunate situation, and I cannot say I am entirely blameless.
To my fault, using several of the game's exploits resulted in me developing some bad habits. My reliance on Dustia and Slime farming caused me to be ill-prepared for many of the game's nastier boss encounters. A comparable gaming parallel that comes to mind is the Drake Sword in Dark Souls. As many can attest, if you acquire the Drake Sword early in the game, you can coast on it until the last three levels. However, doing so deprives you of many custom made confrontations meant to communicate important concepts and ideas that come into force in the final handful of levels.
To my defense, Final Fantasy XII bakes grinding into every hour you play it, and I'm not just talking about the open-world dungeons. For example, the hunts operate on a difficulty scale fathoms above the story, and the amount of "optional" content in the game is absurd. If you have any desire to see everything Final Fantasy XII has to share, then you have to commit hundreds of hours into the game. However, by the game's midpoint, I found leveling my characters to be a complete bore. At some point, gaining new slots on the License Board stopped feeling special, and my job selections seemingly plateaued in power. Besides, with the best sets of equipment and spells locked behind random treasure chests or Byzantine side quests, the game's sense of progression begins to falter by level forty.
It's worth mentioning, in the Zodiac Age, some of the jobs top out earlier than others. By the time I neared the game's conclusion, I had some characters with nothing to spend their license points on, and others who needed three to four hours of additional grinding. Before you ask, I made a concerted effort to keep my characters at the same level. And yet, the progression of my characters was all over the place! Some characters felt like powerhouses, and others never ceased being liabilities. At no point did my Uhlan/Time Battlemage feel potent in combat. On the other hand, my Foebreaker/Shikari combination straight-up murdered fools in two hits! I have no idea what led to either scenario, and that's a massive flaw with the job system. You have no idea what the end goal is for any of these jobs, and often you don't have a clear sense if your selections are viable until it is too late.
Finally, I cannot underscore enough how cheesy the late game enemy-types become. First, the game starts throwing a TON of abnormal enemy types at you in the last few levels. At Pharos, in particular, the number of "flying" enemy types jumps dramatically. In this case, flying enemies render your melee-focused characters inert, which, in my case, translated to one-third of my party. Second, the game's hardest enemies often deploy every conceivable status effect on you! I cannot begin to list the number of times a Malboro at the Water-Steps combined "Disease" with "Poison" to hit me with a total party kill. In a game that plays out in real-time, what the fuck am I supposed to do in this situation?
I understand I have groaned about Final Fantasy XII's over-reliance on adverse status effects before, so I'll keep this brief. An aspect of Final Fantasy XII's status effect system that drove me bonkers is how there is no rhyme or reason to how long the statuses last. Some effects, such as Stone or Disease, are permanent until remedied. Others, like Confuse and Sleep, will time out. Then, there are statuses like Berserk, which cannot be resolved when using a save crystal. Which reminds me, curing these statuses is no easy task as you have to buy License Grid spots to allow Remedies to behave as intended. And for whatever reason, the design team felt the need to decouple the value of "Esuna" in favor of status-specific spells and items. Which inevitably translates into a TON of clutter and redundant commands populating your character's Gambit slots.
Part 53: Let's Talk About Giruvegan, The Great Crystal, And The Misery Of Getting Lost
After a brief conversation with Reddas, Ashe endeavors for Giruvegan, even if Dr. Cid is planning a trap. In a short one-on-one scene, Reddas confronts Ashe and queries about her plans regarding Dr. Cid's nethicite. As with before, Ashe appears exasperated with her choices. She states rather plainly she only intends to "protect" Dalmasca, but cannot deny the innate power of Dr. Cid's artifacts. As she leaves, Reddas again reminds her to recall the destruction of Nabudis while leaving his relationship to its demise a mystery.
During our long trek to Giruvegan, our first new point of entry is "The Feywood." The Feywood starts an annoying trend in Final Fantasy XII of levels purposefully designed to get you lost. At The Feywood, Mist covers the environment, and the presence of the amorphous source of magic makes plotting your next steps a chore. While here, you are unable to use your mini-map and, instead, rely on temples and beacons. It's an admittedly "interesting" gimmick and does a good enough job of building up the mythos surrounding The Feywood, but it is nonetheless a pain to play.
First off, figuring out you need to go straight to progress through the level isn't that hard to discern on your own. The only reason why you might go off track is if you want to locate items or spells hidden in the environment. Which, might I add, continues to be a shitty part of Final Fantasy XII. Nonetheless, the real kicker comes when you encounter the entrance to Giruvegan. Here, you stand in front of an ancient door with no idea as to how to open it. Combing the environment for keys results in nothing, and interacting with the door doesn't lead to any helpful clues either. Talking to the door reveals it is the "Gigas Gate," but nothing else on how to open it up. Completely lost, I resorted to using a guide only to discover you unlock the door by summoning an Esper.
As the party reaches the footsteps of Giruvegan, they first defeat a giant djinn who goes down for the count rather smoothly. Unfortunately, upon entering the temple of Giruvegan, things are not as simple as they seem. For one thing, status-effect inflicting trash mobs plague the level. Even more distressing, the inner workings of the temple are a tangled series of steps, with the same repeating architecture. To make things even harder, players have to engage a series of switches to "activate" a patchwork of neon green invisible steps.
For one thing, the switches are large brick-like fireplaces you see countless times throughout Giruvegnan's Water-Steps, and MOST are not useful in advancing the game. Secondly, the stairwells are invisible until you walk on them. It's not as if turning the switches causes the walkways to pulsate brightly in the background. Instead, you have to go back to some far off corner in the level and see if you can bump into the stairwell's hitbox. To add insult to injury, this environment is one of the darkest levels in the game! Oh, but the worst is yet to come as we have not yet talked about "The Great Crystal."
Admittedly, the Great Crystal is a beautiful level, but its design is atrocious! I DARE any of Final Fantasy XII's defenders to stand up for The Great Crystal;I double-dog dare you! For me, I repeatedly said to myself, "I don't know where I am, and this is taking forever, so I guess I'll use a guide." And this sentiment is entirely justified as the level repeatedly funnels you to dead-ends and expects you to double back to previous levels two load screens ago. As everything in the environment looks the same, it is incredibly easy to lose yourself and not know how to recover. On one occasion, I found myself hitting a switch at a dead-end, and not remembering if I needed to go down a left, center, or right pathway. Then, after committing to the wrong direction, I had no idea how to fix my mistake.
The Feywood, Water Steps, and Great Crystal are NO FUN to play as they make you feel powerless in the worst way possible. At the Water Steps, one wrong turn can result in instant death. In the case of the Great Crystal, you spend HOURS without the slightest clue knowing if you are going in the right direction. And yet, Square-Enix expects the player to rely on trial and error to solve these Mensa-grade puzzles. With the Great Crystal, there's nothing in the environment that clues you into which series of switches will progress you to the next location. It's shitty, and Square-Enix can do better!
Part 54: The Occuria Are The Worst Part Of The Story
For the record, Final Fantasy XII has one of my favorite stories in franchise history. It does, however, have one Achilles' heel we now need to address. After completing "The Great Crystal," the story throws a narrative monkey wrench at you. As is the case in the world of Final Fantasy games, the master puppeteer, or in this case puppeteers, reveals itself. Here, Ashe confronts the Occuria, a race of omnipotent Gods who have, until recently, used their powers to control the fate of humankind. They reveal Venat is a heretic who is working with Dr. Cid and Vayne to separate the realm of humanity from the influence of the Occuria.
Before I delve deeper into the Occuria, I want to make it abundantly clear I hate their inclusion. I agree their addition does a lot to contextualize the actions of Vayne and Dr. Cid. But for the most part, they add unnecessary complexity to a story that desperately doesn't need it. Vayne, from beginning to end, is sufficiently conveyed as being a driven individual who gets what he wants. You don't need a pantheon of gods to make his motivations clearer. Likewise, I HATE how the specter of Prince Rasler is revealed to be an Occuria. I FUCKING HATE IT! Having Rasler's ghost be an Occuria removes a lot of the emotional potency of Ashe's earlier visions. Plus, it deprives the story of an empowering moment where Ashe faces her trauma before defying the will of Vayne.
On a positive note, I like the sense of self-importance the Occuria communicate when speaking to Ashe. When Ashe asks them for more information about what they are, they collectively roll their eyes. Because the Occuria are NOT honest in their intentions, you know their solutions for the problems facing Ivalice are not "right." If anything, the Occuria being shitty puts even more agency in the hands of Ashe and our party. Additionally, given Dr. Cid is the one who asked us to go to Giruvegan, you get the sense he too faced the Occuria. In my imagined scenario, Dr. Cid and Vayne had a quick chat with their squid-like overlords and collectively said to each other, "Fuck these assholes!"
Nevertheless, what bewilders me most of all about this plot twist is how the story cannot OWN ITS SHIT!In actuality, the game does not bother to address the Occuria until the final minutes at the Pharos Lighthouse. This plot twist happens, and the game proceeds to forget about it for a solid FIVE HOURS! And it's not like the characters bring up the Occuria throughout the story! Instead, everyone states they do not trust the Occuria's intentions and moves on as if nothing happened. Worse, all the Occuria do is throw a sword at Ashe and tell her to cut off a piece of the Sun Cryst! At which I have to question if they should be in the game in the first place!
The world of Ivalice does not need another complicated pantheon of gods! We already have Espers, legendary kings, and countless other mythological figures from non-human cultures. And it does not help the majority of what the Occuria say is unintelligible gobbledygook! As if Final Fantasy XII doesn't already have a proper noun issue, the Occuria rattle off a new set of jargon at a break-neck pace. Worse, there's no supporting readings or quests which clue us into the history of the Occuria. They live and die in a very narrow sliver of Final Fantasy XII's story, and I wish this game fully committed to their existence. Say what you will about Final Fantasy X's plot twist of Tidus being a "dream person." At the very least, that game OWNS that shitty revelation and used it to pull off one of the greatest endings in video game history!
Part 55: The Pharos Lighthouse Is BULLSHIT!
After your party makes its way back to Balfonheim Port, they reconvene with Reddas. The pirate king surmises their only option is to find the Sun Cryst and destroy it. Only then will it no longer be a worrisome weapon of mass destruction. When Fran and Balthier suggest they cut off a piece and use that as a weapon, Reddas shudders at the thought. He once again cites the ruin wrought on Nabudis and implores our company to stick with more practical tools of destruction. Because, you know, shooting motherfuckers with guns is TOTALLY CIVIL! In terms of our next stop, Reddas mentions observing the "Ridorana Cataract" and "Pharos Lighthouse" on official paperwork at Draklor Laboratory.
After boarding Reddas' airship, our party of misfits plots a course for the Ridorana Cataract. What ensues next is a frustrating adventure complemented by some of the best story moments in the game. The Pharos Lighthouse has four parts to it, and they each painfully overstay their welcome. Seriously, the last two ascents at Pharos made me want to eat my eyeballs out! Conversely, each environment is an impeccable tour de force of environmental design and character-driven storytelling. Each ascent truly is a test of our character's might, and you never lose sight of the stakes at hand as you progress further up the lighthouse. To cap it all off, Ashe, Balthier, Reddas, and Gabranth each have heart-wrenching and poignant moments at the lighthouse's summit.
In this chapter, I'm going to review why I think the Pharos Lighthouse subjects the player to the worst level design in the game. Short of The Great Crystal, Pharos represents a low point in terms of playing Final Fantasy XII. While I understand the thinking behind it, the level is too goddamned long for its own good. By the second ascent, I felt more at war with the game's elongated and arbitrary design than the metaphorical manifestations of the character's trauma or moral dilemmas. Again, I understand why Pharos is the way it is, but that doesn't make playing it "fun."
Moreover, Pharos features some of the most malicious game design I have ever seen in a Final Fantasy game. To illustrate, at the lighthouse's entrance, a straight line of party killing mines guards the first save crystal. And the assholish game design doesn't stop there! I cannot begin to tell you how many "Black Orbs" I failed to pick up because they disappeared before my characters finished their canned animations. I wish you knew how I felt when I accidentally eliminated the "Attack" command after picking the "Altar of Steel" on the second level. I wish I had a picture of the face I made on the third ascent when I realized I had forgotten the color of my level two altar. All of these moments are shitty and make an already long and sluggish dungeon ten times worse.
Rather than subject you to a close reading of each ascent, I'm going to limit myself to the worst parts of Pharos. The first of these returns us to the issue of the game's status-effect afflicting trash mobs. At Pharos, the "Disease" status-effect is in full force. As mentioned earlier, the effect drops your character's total HP to one point. In this case, random enemies lurking in the background often KO-ed my characters while I was queuing up restorative spells. This exact issue is even more problematic when confronting bosses as a single area-of-effect spell can result in immediate doom.
The second mind-numbingly terrible design choice is the incorporation of an excessive number of puzzles. None of these puzzles are "hard" per se, but they absorb more of your time than they should. For example, picking up "Black Orbs" during your first ascent isn't difficult, but it sure is finicky. The same can be said when you encounter the "Brainpan" and "Deidar" enemy types. Killing either will collect green or red pieces, respectively, to construct a bridge. However, the two colors negate each other, and killing one enemy will erase one bridge piece of the opposite color. It's not impossible to program your party members to behave as you want, but it still takes up an annoying amount of time.
I am, of course, overlooking the worst part of the Pharos Lighthouse. That would be the puzzle found during the third ascent. Upon entering the final part of the tower, you find several color-coded beacons. Here, if you select the wrong lantern twice, the game teleports you to a basement where you fight an army of undead soldiers, which very quickly can end your game. Worth mentioning, earlier, you selected a color-coded beacon on the second floor to disable an in-game quality-of-life feature. For example, if you pick the yellow "Altar of Wealth," you will be unable to use items until you complete the tower. What I find especially heinous is what occurs at the end of the third level. While here, you need to select the matching color of the beacon you picked from level two. If you forget this color,
Part 56: But Hey, At Least The Story Is Good!
Luckily for all involved, the story gets especially compelling at the Pharos Lighthouse. In an earlier cutscene, Larsa confronts his brother, Vayne, about his aggressive posturing towards the rebellion. When Vayne cites Ashe's march towards the lighthouse as evidence of her imminent hostilities towards the Empire, Larsa assures him Ashe will prove her peaceful intentions. Seeing an opportunity to quiet Larsa once and for all, Vayne sends Gabranth to Pharos. If Ashe proves to be an enemy of the Empire, Gabaranth will kill her. However, if she proves to be honest and virtuous, Vayne will consent to a ceasefire.
As you make further progress up the tower, there are several moments where the supporting cast loudly questions what Ashe will do at the top. Some are confident she will do the right thing and destroy the Sun Cryst, and others wonder if she can use it to bring Vayne to his knees. Somewhat humorously, all of these scenes feature Ashe in the background to suggest she can overhear these conversations. In my imagination, Ashe slowly begins to hate her party members as they continue to talk behind her back. However, these asides ensure you always understand what is at stake as you toil away at the tower.
Regardless, when we make it to the top of the lighthouse, the story kicks into high gear. When Ashe declares her intent to destroy the Sun Cryst, Gabranth appears and goads her into seeking revenge. It is during this scene when Gabranth admits to killing Ashe's father by masquerading as Basch. Additionally, shocking everyone he has the brain cells to add one and one together, Vaan realizes Gabranth is responsible for murdering his brother. Ashe again rebukes Gabranth's violent suggestions, and Reddas joins and pulls out his blades and attacks the judge magister. During this confrontation, Reddas is revealed to be a former judge magister himself, and the two engage in a debate about needing to move on from one's past. Reddas admits to being a bystander to the Empire's destruction of Nabudis and recites his regret for allowing such an act of genocide to happen.
Some of you have accused me of being hard on Vaan. However, while at the Pharos Lighthouse, he truly shines as a character. When Gabranth appears, Vaan attempts to reason with him. Not only does Vaan say he's moved on from his brother's death, but he's also no longer interested in revenge. It was beyond shocking to see Vaan speak with humility and empathy, and it is a damn shame the game waited this long to show this side of him. From here, a highly cinematic battle with the judge ensues, and it's by far one of the best boss fights in the game. Correspondingly, Gabranth continues to be one of the best characters in the game. The frustration he feels when Ashe and Basch refuse to accept his gambit is beyond palpable.
After you off Gabranth, Dr. Cid appears and chastises the judge for failing to carry out Vayne's orders. While wielding a piece of manufactured nethicite, Dr. Cid flings Gabranth across the room. Venat reappears, and Balthier accuses his father of being under its thumb. Dr. Cid corrects him and says they are "allies," and before we continue, I want to talk about this matter. One of my favorite parts of Final Fantasy XII is the fact it has a well-developed trio of villains whose motivations are easy to follow and understand. What I equally enjoy is how Vayne, Dr. Cid, AND Venat s. When you finally defeat Dr. Cid, he doesn't belch out your usual dramatic speech. Rather, he thanks Venat for giving him the best years of his life and issues no apologies to Balthier. It's a formula break from what we expect of a Final Fantasy villain, and I LOVE IT!
After defeating Dr. Cid, Ashe attempts to destroy the Sun Cryst but fails. As she gets closer to the crystal, a deluge of mist pushes her back. Offering to do the deed for her, Reddas implores the rest of our party to seek shelter as he charges forward to the Sun Cryst. As he does, with a smile on his face, he destroys the crystal and frees humanity from the influence of the Occuria. Unfortunately, a massive explosion rocks the top of the tower, and Reddas is pronounced dead. However, and this is a WILD TANGENT, but how does everyone else survive this explosion? In the very next cutscene, we watch the entire lighthouse explode in a flurry of energy. Then, after the game smash cuts to black, our party is at the pirate city with nary a scratch.
Part 57: Tying Up Loose Ends
After the events at Pharos, . As someone who was never entirely sold on its systems, playing the game without its heady storytelling was not appealing to me. While the game boasts a vast portfolio of side quests, these missions severely lack diversity. Most involve fighting overpowered bosses whose prep work alone necessitates hours of futzing around through menus. That is especially the case with the Hunts, which ramp up in difficulty by the game's final act. So much so, I felt like I had to spend an extra dozen hours grinding to make them even moderately viable.
I've already reviewed my distaste for the game's pacing issues, so I'll avoid repeating familiar territory here. Nonetheless, it's during these transitional moments when I feel Final Fantasy XII shows an identity crisis. It doesn't lean enough into its MMORPG tendencies to make its side quests sufficiently visible. For whatever reason, the game lacks a mission log, and quest-giving NPCs do not have iconography to distinguish them from non-quest related NPCs. Conversely, Because the game is a single-player experience, you are responsible for the prep work of all six of your characters. Worse, many of these quests involve an insane amount of repetition! For example, I bet delivering Ann's letters leads to a fun character moment. However, I'm not riding around on the game's mass transit system twenty goddamn times to see that one-off moment.
And because everything in this game is in service of the Gambit and License systems, these side quests are fucking long! Remember the quaint days of Final Fantasy VII plopping the super bosses in the world and challenging you to battle them on your own accord? Yeah, Final Fantasy XII isn't about to do that! It instead wants you to toil away fighting against endless streams of trash mobs before having the opportunity to witness its cinematic confrontations. To illustrate, challenging the Omega Mark XII super boss, involves a FORTY-THREE STEP PROCESS!WHY WOULD ANYONE DO THAT?!
There was, however, one side quest which did resonate with me. Around act two, I inadvertently activated the "Three Medallions" questline, though I did not realize this until the tail end of my playthrough. After reviewing my inventory, I came across a stone fragment and consulted a guide to see if it was loot trash or an essential story item. Upon discovering it was the first step to a long journey through the wastelands of Nabudis, I decided to give the quest a shot. Upon doing so, I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of storytelling while navigating through the charred remains of Nabudis. There's even a poignant moment when you discover your quest-givers are ghosts of long-dead citizens of Nabudis. It's not exactly "original" storytelling, but when so much of the game's optional content exists for the sake of existing, I found it a pleasant surprise.
Another aspect I enjoyed about the Three Medallions questline is how it feels impactful. Upon defeating the bosses in the Necrohol of Nabudis, you feel like you lift an evil from the environment. The setting doesn't change dramatically, but it's enough of a shift where your actions mean something. This, by the way, returns me to my point regarding Final Fantasy XII's lack of environmental storytelling. For a game so focused on war and politics, I do not understand why the environments do not evolve as the story progresses. As I said before, cities like Rabanastre don't change in response to significant events. What you see in chapter one is what you get for the entire game, and it's almost as if Square-Enix is a bit too in love with its level design.
Even Final Fantasy VII had Midgar transform depending on your place in the story! In the case of Final Fantasy XII, you cannot even revisit significant events! Think back to the destruction of the Shiva during act one. It's not like you can go back and search the ruins of the 8th Fleet to grapple the awesome power of manufactured nethicite. All of the significant story sequences occur during CG cutscenes, and that guts their long-term emotional impact. Remember Operation Mi'ihen in Final Fantasy X? Remember how powerful it was to control Tidus through a beach littered with dead bodies? For whatever reason, Final Fantasy XII deprives itself of moments like those.
Part 58: Remember When Square-Enix Was The Best At CG Battle Scenes?
Nitpicking aside, the final five to seven hours of Final Fantasy XII are among the game's most potent. When you finally decide to initiate the game's "point of no return," it immediately rewards you with jaw-dropping CG cutscenes showcasing massive armadas going up against each other. On top of that, the designs for the Sky Fortress Bahamut and Alexander are AMAZING! I love how both ships incorporate aspects of their namesakes, yet, look like practical airships within the scope of Final Fantasy XII. Additionally, the game immediately injects some much-needed stakes by wasting away hundreds of soldiers within the first five minutes of the final act!
Moreover, I appreciate the game setting its final moments above Rabanastre. Not only is it a nice nostalgic touch, but it allows the player to grapple how far they have come. It's quaint to think back to when we were helping Vaan kill sewer rats as we infiltrate the Bahamut. More importantly, Rabanastre is where we have spent most of our time, and it is, by hook or by crook, Final Fantasy XII's most iconic environment. To return to the story at hand, there's a notable moment where Vayne and Larsa quietly debate in the nexus of the Bahamut. To once again highlight Vayne's understated nature, he tells off Larsa without resorting to physical violence. During this debate, he states war is the only solution to Ivalice's complicated mess of political jockeying. He even has a piquant Andrew Jackson-esque moment wherein he goads Larsa to fight back.
There are other small touches to the final cinematic I enjoyed as well. I loved the design of the smaller airships and wished we had seen such flying craft more prominently in the game. Likewise, when Vayne fires the first shot and rejects Marquis Ondore's olive branch, shit pops-off in dramatic fashion. The Resistance moves to counter the Empire but finds its weapons ineffective in subduing the Bahamut. As Ondore tries to brainstorm a new strategy, we watch flagship after flagship getting wasted by the Bahamut. When Ashe comes into the fold, and Ondore attempts to capture her using a tractor beam, he does so out of desperation. After spending years planning this very attack, you get the sense he knows everything is falling apart before his eyes. Conversely, Vayne earns his smug grandstanding as he is utterly untouchable during this scene.
If there is one prominent storytelling failing at this point, it is the dynamic between Vayne and Venat. In countless scenes prior, we have a clear sense of the relationship between Venat and Dr. Cid. However, the story doesn't spend enough time cluing us into how Vayne factors into things. I guess at some point, Vayne encounters the two and falls in-line with their scheme. Nonetheless, there are several scenes where Vayne addresses Venat as a peer and vice versa, and this relationship never feels authentic. One scene detailing how Vayne met Dr. Cid or why he gravitates towards his wild theories, would have done wonders for the story.
We are also ignoring the UNDENIABLE fact . Admittedly, Final Fantasy XII wears its Star Wars influences rather prominently, but this scene is a step too far in more ways than one. First, the Bahamut becomes the Death Star II as it picks off wayward rebel ships. Like Emperor Palpatine, Vayne sits idly on a throne as he waits for the Resistance to give up. Finally, the last hope of the Resistance is an effort to infiltrate an Imperial base. Frankly, it's weird to see Square-Enix rely on another source to guide the final moments of their game rather than themselves.
Part 59: This Game Has An Amazing Final Act, Until The Final Boss
As mentioned earlier, when Ashe attempts to board the Bahamut, Ondore initially blocks her effort. Even after reciting her destiny to wield the Throne of the Dynast King, Ondore refuses to listen to Ashe. It is not until Balthier and Vaan find a way to fake a transmission from Larsa that Ondore relents. As our party boards the monolithic Bahamut, they recognize this as the "end of the road." There's a sentimental moment where they all appreciate each other as friends before moving forward. It's a quick moment, but one I enjoyed nonetheless. What I was less enthused by was the structure of the game's final level.
I wholeheartedly admit boss rushes are inevitable in Final Fantasy games. All told, the trope has existed since the franchise's inception. Therefore, bellyaching about Final Fantasy XII's last level providing a boss rush seems unfair. What I do feel is a salient point, is the lack of environmental storytelling. We are in the belly of the Empire's flagship, and instead of seeing soldiers and engineers toil away at weaponry or armaments, the game throws endless streams of trash mobs at you. The Bahamut feels less like an environment and more a vessel to provide a bunch of cool cutscenes. This shortcoming is a shame, because, in prior scenes, the game does a sufficient job of humanizing the foot soldiers of the Empire.
The first of these fights involve another tussle with Gabranth. This time around, the Judge Magister appears both physically and emotionally winded. He once again billows at Basch before drawing his swords. Yet again, the interplay between Basch and Gabranth provides some of the strongest voice acting performances in the franchise short of Final Fantasy XIV. The judge goes down for the count once more, and Basch has a few words with his brother, before continuing to Vayne. Upon meeting Vayne, the king greets us as he is wont to do, but what is notable is Ashe's response to his gallivanting. When Vayne asks her who she thinks she is, she responds, "I am simply myself." Not only does the line fit her perfectly, but it masterfully highlights the understated tone that defines Final Fantasy XII's story.
Larsa ends up joining us as we attempt to take down Vayne, having found the willpower to resist his older brother. When we defeat Vayne, he transforms into a muscle-toned super soldier pulled from the final season of The X-Files. This boss design, as well as the one that immediately follows, highlights a nitpick I have always had with the 3D era of Final Fantasy games. Whenever Square-Enix tries to re-capture the remarkable pixel-based boss transformations from the 16-bit era in 3D character models, the results are always awkward. Somewhere between Sephiroth's One-Winged Angel and Barthandelus in Final Fantasy XIII, Square's boss design became a running gag. When Vayne morphs into his final form, I couldn't help but laugh. It was as if I was fighting an anime-inspired version of "The Mothman."
Nonetheless, after Vayne's second defeat, he casts away Gabranth, mortally wounding the man, and runs away. I will admit I liked Vayne's moment with Venat, wherein he apologizes for failing them. As I said earlier, it's nice to see a troupe of villains work together to achieve a goal cohesively, rather than bark at each other like a bickering married couple. HOWEVER, the final boss battle against Vayne is a colossal pile of shit. "The Undying" being able to pierce through buffs AND make itself immune to damage, ISN'T FUN! It's cheap and makes the battle drag on far longer than it should. Worse, The Undying can cast heavy-hitting spells in quick succession; therefore, it's a guarantee you will replay this boss rush more than once.
Part 60: This Game Has The Best Epilogue In Video Game History
I want to start by saying I think Final Fantasy XII's ending and epilogue are its best parts. The proper conclusion ties up the story's loose ends in style, and the epilogue provides a melancholic look at life after an adventure. The first thing that kicks things off is the death of Gabranth. Gabranth turns to Basch and begs him to take up his mantle and protect Larsa in his stead. I enjoy how Gabranth asks Basch to recognize the necessity of his request, rather than try to plead with him emotionally. Also, credit to the writers for not shoving a redemption arc down our throats. Basch honors his brother's request and with Larsa's support, orders the Empire to lay down its arms. Ashe, now as the legitimate monarch of Dalmasca, commands the rebellion to follow suit. Our attention then turns to the Bahamut, which is about to crash into Rabanastre.
Balthier tasks Vaan with piloting the Strahl as he dispatches to find a way to control the Bahamut. After rebuffing an offer by Judge Zargabaath to sacrifice himself to save Rabanastre, Balthier announces, "I'm the leading man!" Upon tinkering with the Bahamut's engine, he perilously pilots it to safety. As it begins to crash, Balthier pulls Fran from the wreckage, and she retorts what I consider the best line in the game. The Bahamut tumbles to ruin in the background, and the game smash cuts to black. It is at this point Penelo narrates the game's epilogue. We find ourselves back in Rabanastre, one year after the events of the game.
I love this epilogue. I think it might be some of the best writing Square-Enix has done outside of Final Fantasy IX or X. There are depressed undertones to Penelo's report, and that's what I think makes it more remarkable. When Penelo talks about Ashe becoming busier with her affairs ruling Dalmasca and growing further away from her friends, I immediately thought of myself. A wave of memories of close compatriots from high school and college came to mind, and much like Penelo, I mourned not being able to touch base with those contacts. But as she says in the game, "life moves on," and the friends of yesterday often become the memories of today.
I also want to praise Square-Enix for not shoving a ham-fisted romance between Basch and Ashe down our throats. There was always an inkling of a possible relationship between the two, but other duties got in the way. Tying a neat bow around the two characters (i.e., Final Fantasy IX) wouldn't have fit the tone of Final Fantasy XII. There's something both wistful and empowering about the epilogue's brutal honesty and needing to let go with one's desires to "do the right thing." Furthermore, I appreciate the game taking the time to show relationships forged during a conflict are not sustainable.
Speaking of which, I want to stop and think about that concept for a moment. Very often, we see a group of misfits band together to fight against a big evil. Rarely, if ever, do we see those adventurers try to live their lives after the defeat of this tyrannical emperor or dictator. While the epilogue of Final Fantasy XII is short, clocking in at approximately twenty minutes, it does just that! We see each character happily pursue a different destiny and, as a result, grow further apart from one another. Vaan, now a full-fledged sky pirate, can't sit down with Balthier and muse about the "good old days." Basch can't tell Ashe how he feels about her, because he needs to honor his brother's dying wish. And then you have Ashe, who can happily live without the specter of her dead husband looming over her. However, in doing so, she needs to forgo her friends and potential love interest. I have to say, in these final moments, Square-Enix crafts an uncharacteristically restrained but poignant moment, and that's truly remarkable.
Postmortem: Should You Play Final Fantasy XII?
It seems so atypical of me to end a Final Fantasy game with such a loaded question. Amateur critics will end their exhaustive reviews with such prompting, thus invalidating the mountains of text they had written. For me, I include the question over whether or not you should play Final Fantasy XII as a segue to my overall conflicted feelings about the game. Despite my emotional fits, I want each of you to know I did not hate this game. Parts of it frustrated me, and there's no denying that, but "hate" is far from what I would say is my summative feelings about the game.
If anything, I walk away from Final Fantasy XII, knowing why people love it. It is a rare game where you can play it dozens of times, over and over, and still discover new parts and pieces which reframe your understanding of its core mechanics. From start to finish, it rewards your investment into its systems with exhilarating pizzaz and silky smooth character animations. Likewise, it represents an era of Square-Enix that no longer exists. With its release, the company was still at the bleeding edge of video game technology. Finally, in terms of storytelling, Final Fantasy XII is one of Square-Enix's most compelling narrative offerings.
I don't think I have ever been as thoroughly impressed with the characterization in a Square-Enix game, as I have with Final Fantasy XII. While the decision to go with Vaan as the player's cipher is lamentable, even he has some genuinely potent story moments. Characters like Ashe, Basch, and Balthier are going to stick with me for years to come. However, Final Fantasy XII's greatest storytelling accomplishment lies in how it crafts an authentic trio of villains. A trio, mind you, who are as understandable and transparent about their motivations as the primary cast. Vayne, Dr. Cid, and Vanat are beyond irredeemable monsters, but they are monsters with a kernel of good you can follow. I'm not lying when I say I may have enjoyed Dr. Cid as much as I did Ashe or Balthier. And we can't forget about Gabranth and Larsa! Both of whom I think outshines the vast majority of our playable characters.
But in the end, . I would not play it on a boat. I would not play it in a moat. I would not play it in a box. I would not play it with a fox. I understand a lot of people like the Gambit and License systems, but I found them convoluted and tedious. As I mentioned in a prior episode, I make no qualms about my belief Final Fantasy XII's move to real-time combat was an error. To this day, I maintain turn-based combat is more conductive to role-playing, in the single-player Final Fantasy games, than automated systems or hotkeys. Yet, Square-Enix continues to believe the "magic sauce" of making this franchise appeal to new audiences is to keep tinkering with their gameplay systems. Instead of aging with their audience, they have engaged in this reckless endeavor of trying to tap into gaming zeitgeists that do not match the appeal of their hallmark franchise. Why else did they add quick-time events to Final Fantasy XIII-2?
Admittedly, Final Fantasy XII is a highwater mark in the franchise for many people, and I get that. The game is both artistically and mechanically ambitious. However, it is a testament to how broken this game was when it first launched that Square-Enix in the year of our lord, 2019, is still repairing Final Fantasy XII's gameplay systems! For fucks' sake, the Switch and Xbox One versions recently added a respec option as well as a "save Gambit" feature! And I would even argue the game's defenders often forget how much "dead time" is in Final Fantasy XII. Sure, people are apt to point out how efficient the Gambit System can be, but those same people don't talk about the game's long aimless treks through barren deserts or needing to uncover random treasure chests to gain critical magical spells.
And while I enjoyed Final Fantasy XII's story, it's not like it is perfect in and of itself. For one thing, it's slow. The story spends the better part of two acts funneling you through one open-world dungeon after another without any grounding in the world. Sure, characters like Basch, Ashe, and Balthier are charming, but until the game's midpoint, the only thing keeping them together is a convenient series of magical MacGuffins. And characters like Vaan take their sweet-ass time to go from being downright intolerable to marginally interesting. Likewise, characters like Penelo and Fran spend the entire game serving no purpose other than being exploitative eye-candy!
I'm not going to lie; this game was a bummer. I've played my fair share of good and bad Final Fantasy games, but this is the one I most wanted to enjoy. I wanted the mechanics to "click" with me, but they didn't. However, I'm not going to use this blog to extol how anyone who enjoys this game is "wrong." If that's the message you pulled from this nigh 9,000-word dissertation, then I want to apologize forthrightly. You have a right to enjoy this game, and I have no right to take that away from you. All I want to say is the Final Fantasy franchise used to be one of the most welcoming JRPG series for newcomers, and at some point, that disappeared. My theory is Final Fantasy XI is the culprit, but Final Fantasy XII is a definite "point of no return" as well.
Before I end this blog, I am going to break with tradition and spoil the next game for my Final Fantasy blog series. After playing Final Fantasy XII for the better part of a year, I decided it was time to scrape the bottom of the Final Fantasy barrel. Now, quiet down, my dear children, for my heart is not ready for the Final Fantasy spin-off games. Nor will I be playing Final Fantasy XIII-2. However, next time you see me, I'm going to talk to you about OG Final Fantasy II, a game many people regard as "the worst Final Fantasy game ever made." So, get ready to punch yourself in the face, because this next rodeo is going to be a whole different can of worms!
Author's Note: Minor SPOILER WARNING for anyone who has not played Final Fantasy VIII. I've tried to keep this blog as spoiler-free as possible, hence all of my images are from Disco One of Final Fantasy VIII Remastered. Nonetheless, this blog does talk about the game's overall story in some depth so you have been FOREWARNED!
I want to make this clear from the outset; I am not a Final Fantasy VIII "expert." Despite my occasional grandstanding, there are others I would defer to in terms of analyzing Final Fantasy VIII's mechanics and narrative structure. When it comes to me, I played the game five years ago, and here I am still playing Final Fantasy games to this day. I appreciate the game for introducing me to a franchise that is now near and dear to my heart. Nonetheless, I haven't gone overboard with my Final Fantasy VIII fandom. I didn't sign petitions to try to get this remaster made, nor did I join a Final Fantasy VIII Facebook group. The game hit me at the right time and place, and to this day, I consider it a highlight in the series.
Furthermore, I'm not someone who looks at Final Fantasy VIII with a pair of "rose-tinted glasses." I know the game has "issues," and I don't pretend they do not exist. Mechanically speaking, Final Fantasy VIII is an unintuitive nightmare, and that's especially the case when you place it next to its predecessors. The lack of proper gameplay scaffolding can very easily frustrate new players. Additionally, the junction system can be the undoing of even the most intrepid RPG player. Other mechanics, such as the game's level-scaling system, can funnel players into vicious death spirals. And then we have the drawing mechanic which is a complete slog, and its alternative, the refining mechanic, is obfuscated into oblivion.
We also have the game's story, which feels more like a fever dream than a full-fledged narrative. To call Final Fantasy VIII's story "divisive" is an understatement. Squall is a rightfully polarizing figure even without his iconic hemming and hawing. In a lot of ways, Squall speaks to a particular era of Square's writing style, which it has thankfully shied away from in recent years. The rest of the game's narrative doesn't fare any better. Across the board, the story fails to develop its supporting cast members, and it cannot commit to a single theme or genre for more than an hour. Then there's the "Orphanage Scene,"
And yet, despite these issues, Final Fantasy VIII remains one of my all-time favorite games. There's nothing quite like it, and the game's ambition is undeniable. The adventures of Squall and Laguna speak to an era of Square where not only was the company on the bleeding edge of technology, but it was willing to take risks. When you consider this game followed-up Final Fantasy VII, you have to commend the creative integrity of Square's "old guard." They didn't just re-hash a winning formula and stand on the laurels of their previous success. Final Fantasy VIII showcases a magnificent world built from the ground up, and it plays unlike any other game which came before it. I think that's why the E3 2019 announcement excited me as much as it did. I knew, regardless of whatever shape the remaster took, it would serve as an excellent snapshot into Square's "Golden Age."
However, Final Fantasy VIII's remaster is currently making headlines for all the wrong reasons. The game has been "review bombed" on Steam, and several publications have expressed miffed impressions on the quality of the final product. Some of the complaints dogging the remaster are legitimate grievances, and others are your usual renditions of internet outrage. Nonetheless, with this blog, I hope to share my takeaways from Final Fantasy VIII's re-introduction to modern video game platforms. As is usually the case on these blogs, I'll try to pair my scorn with praise and vice versa. So, without further ado, let's jump into it!
Square-Enix Shot Themselves In The Foot By Calling This A "Remaster"
As the title of my blog may suggest, I struggle to call this game an actual "remaster." Yes, it's a port with new fancy graphics, but I don't say any of this to belittle the hard work programmers and designers made on the new character models. Be that as it may, there are plenty of "rough edges" in this release, and several present themselves within the game's opening hours. Backgrounds animate as if they come from the Myst franchise, and some environments are downright indiscernible. Another example of the remaster's rough edges occur during the CG cutscene transitions. These transitions were admittedly revolutionary back in the day as they lent to the game's cinematic feel. Here they feel especially raw as the game outputs at a 4:3 aspect ratio.
Yup, you heard that right, , which is especially peculiar considering Eidos' PC port, way back in 2000, displayed in widescreen. However, if reports of Square losing the original game's source code are correct, then this was the only viable option for Final Fantasy VIII Remastered. However, what is inexcusable are the optimization issues with specific versions of the remaster. The Steam/PC release is without a doubt the worst version as it has consistent framerate issues. I was able to pick up on latency issues just fumbling through the menu screen, but the problem is even worse elsewhere. For example, the PC port will often drop to 30 FPS during cutscenes or Limit Breaks, and ! As a passing curiosity, I briefly played the PS4 release. While there are some technical hiccups during cutscene transitions or boss battles, this version immediately felt more "stable."
Regardless, Final Fantasy VIII Remastered does not feel like a genuine "remaster" even if these issues were not present. While Square has played a ton of lip service to its new HD character models, their attention to detail in this package was undoubtedly "selective." Watching HD characters interact with giant blobs of pixels is equal parts hilarious and disorienting. More dizzying are the untouched backgrounds which feel like they are in constant conflict with the new character models. Speaking about those new character models, while they look good, nothing has been done to make them more emotive during cutscenes or close-ups. As a result, you often observe these dead-pan faces that look as if they are staring directly into the abyss. When Square-Enix's track record includes the Final Fantasy X/X-2 HD Remaster as well as the Final Fantasy IX Android port, this release feels especially "cheap."
Moreover, unlike previous Final Fantasy remasters, this package lacks extra bells and whistles to challenge long-time fans. In prior remasters, Square-Enix typically includes a special "arena mode" to challenge players to new boss fights, but that's not the case here. Additionally, there aren't any "expert" features or modes for people who can beat the game in a heartbeat. To illustrate, the Final Fantasy X/X-2 Remaster provides an "expert" Sphere Grid which slows down the progression of your characters. In the case of Final Fantasy VIII Remastered, all you get are quality-of-life additions which make playing the game easier. Worse, with Square not even including the Chocobo World minigame, which the Eidos PC port did, it's hard to call this release wholly "complete." Fuck, they didn't even include a mode where you can play Triple Triad online, and fans have been asking for that for LITERAL DECADES!
The Character Models Look Fantastic; The Backgrounds Not So Much
Seriously, I LOVE the new character models! One reason is the new models feel more "authentic" than the original ones. In the original PS1 game, Squall's tall and bulky frame made him look like a grown-ass man, and as a result, his teenaged drama-filled life felt less believable. In the remaster, he appears shorter and stalkier, which results in him looking more like an actual teenager. His face also seems smaller and more pointed, and obviously, features more detail to avoid possible "memeification." The same goes for the rest of the characters. Zell, Selphie, Rinoa, and Irvine all look fantastic, and there are nice small touches to their outfits and physical appearances.
Unfortunately, these crisp new character models lead us to the most significant shortcoming of Final Fantasy VIII Remastered. As mentioned earlier, not every character in the game gets a new high-res model, and when the cast interacts with these confusing globs, the effect is unsettling. Sometimes, you will even see characters swap between their high and low poly models within the same scene! The clearest example of this issue happens with Headmaster Cid before the invasion of Dollet. In this case, while Cid reviews the mission to Squall, you look at a new and improved HD character model. However, when the game returns to the school courtyard, Cid abruptly reverts to his PS1 model.
Another point of contention about Final Fantasy VIII Remastered regards Square's decision to not touch-up the game's backgrounds. On this matter, I agree with the game's critics. I often struggled to process the new HD Squall running around low-poly environments. From time to time, it even hurt my eyes to look at the screen. For instance, Esthar is already an ordeal to navigate, and with HD characters to boot, exploring the city is even more confounding. And as I mentioned before, a substantial consequence of this clash of styles is found when the game transitions from in-game footage to CG cutscenes. When I first played Final Fantasy VIII, its transitions blew my goddamned mind. Luckily, my nostalgia prevented me from outright hating these sequences, but this time around, they were a tough pill to swallow. The game's more dramatic moments lose their gravitas because the remaster is continually fighting against them.
Finally, and I hate to sound like a broken record, but any character who is not in the immediate foreground might as well not exist. Non-named characters inconsistently get the HD treatment in Final Fantasy VIII Remastered. But this issue is not merely limited to characters. To demonstrate, let's return to Triple Triad. Here, each of the GF cards had their art changed to include their new HD character models. That might sound enticing on paper until you realize you still play Triple Triad on the same low-res playing table from the PS1 game. Every time you play Triple Triad, you look at new HD cards on top of a blurry brown table, and it always fucked with my brain.
However, there is one point of contention about Final Fantasy VIII Remastered I find untenable. If you are publicly decrying this release because you missed out on two extra centimeters of Rinoa's thigh; I cannot help you. I can't believe I have to say this, but "modernizing" visuals from over a decade ago is NOT censorship. Furthermore, Square-Enix owes you NOTHING, and these characters are their property. Likewise, if you signed a petition calling the removal of Siren's underboob "censorship," I want you to know we cannot be friends. I find this whole controversy especially bewildering considering Final Fantasy VIII is a video game about inclusion and accepting oneself. If Square-Enix wants to expand that message to another generation of gamers, then more power to them for making the game more welcoming to new audiences.
Leaving The Gameplay Untouched Was The Right Call; The Tutorials Still Suck
As I said earlier, I don't consider myself an "expert" on Final Fantasy VIII by any stretch of the word. If anything, you can brand me a "Final Fantasy VIII Communicator" as I have on more than one occasion advocated in favor of its Byzantine mechanics. Not to mention, when the remaster was first announced, many of you may recall my emotional plea to leave the original game's mechanics untouched. Therefore, it continues to bother me critics and reviewers are advocating for the removal or rehaul of the drawing system for Final Fantasy VIII Remastered. Look, I get it, the drawing mechanic isn't fun when you first approach it. That said, if you remove the drawing mechanic, Final Fantasy VIII ISN'T Final Fantasy VIII anymore!
Purely for the sake of game preservation, I am happy Square didn't change a single part of Final Fantasy VIII's gameplay for this remaster. You might disagree, but, for the sake of argument, name a single video game that uses Final Fantasy VIII's item or card refining systems! More than that, I dare you to recall any game which emulates Final Fantasy VIII's junction system! What does any of this prompting prove? Final Fantasy VIII's mechanics need to seen to be believed as they are truly "one of a kind." As another example, everyone talks about how much they love Triple Triad, but few, if any, talk about refining Triple Triad cards into magic spells! The minigame allows you to opt into as little or much combat as you want! Don't get me wrong, Final Fantasy VIII is a busted video game, but that is precisely why I love it as much as I do!
Trust me; I have played some broken-ass video games in my life. But, for whatever reason, I have always found Final Fantasy VIII's lack of balance "liberating." As it stands, I can reliably break Final Fantasy VIII within two to three hours. That is to say; it's not a matter of "if" I will beat Final Fantasy VIII, but "when." Using a few of my favorite techniques, I can start the game's third hour with characters capable of one-shotting every act one boss. The same goes for your other character stats. Applying a set of 100 "Full-Life" spells is bound to increase any character's max health to at least 5,500 points. Does doing so fundamentally break the game? Yes, but it is also wonderfully delightful!
Maybe you're still unconvinced Final Fantasy VIII's mechanics are worth preserving for posterity's sake. Some of you probably have horror stories of the game's level-scaling system rearing its ugly head during a nigh twenty-hour play-through. And you know what? I'm not about to belittle your misery. Final Fantasy VIII does a terrible job of cluing you into its mechanics and unorthodox gameplay. To illustrate, I have encountered people willing to bemoan the game's drawing system but are unaware of the item or card refining mechanics. It's NOT okay for the remaster to leave these systems entirely in the dark to new players, even if the original game did. Likewise, it's shocking Square-Enix did not include a digital game manual for those who do not purchase a physical copy. Including one would have made this release a more straightforward recommendation for newcomers.
With that out of the way, let's talk about the "quality-of-life" additions included in Final Fantasy VIII Remastered. Several of these features, such as playing the game at triple speed, were included in previous releases, most notably the 2000 PC port. Oddly enough, the Steam version allows for even greater player customization when compared to the console releases. On the Steam version, you can max out every character's limit break or acquire every item in the game with a simple click of the button. Honestly, I don't see the appeal of these features as I find playing Final Fantasy VIII to be part of its charm. Nonetheless, these features are here and are a godsend to anyone who gets stuck during the game's final two acts. If there is one nit-pick I can think of, it has to do with Triple Triad. While you can give yourself every card in the game at will, there's no easy way to eliminate Triple Triad house-rules. So, if you end up spreading the "Random Rule,"
The Story Is As Wild A Romp As Ever
What I'm about to say will shock long-time followers of my Final Fantasy blog series: I have come around to Final Fantasy VIII's story. In my quest to play all of the PlayStation One and 2 Final Fantasy games, there's something about Final Fantasy VIII's story that continues to feel "refreshing." Yes, Squall's brooding moments define much of the game's first act. That said, his slow evolution is something I did not give the game enough credit for when I first played it. If anything, it's a character arc the game remains committed to from beginning to end, and in hindsight, I cannot help but admire it for that.
Admittedly, the story of Final Fantasy VIII is a HOT MESS. If a good story is what you look for in a video game nowadays; I cannot recommend Final Fantasy VIII. For those unfamiliar with the game's narrative ebbs and flows, it starts with a handful of teenagers practically BEGGING to become mercenaries in a private military company. Then, a half dozen of these teenagers are arbitrarily selected to MURDER A SORCERESS! Past that, we discover everyone forgot they were childhood friends, and BOOM one of your party members turns into a witch while you are floating in space. YEAH, REMEMBER THE TIME WHEN THE GAME GOES TO SPACE?
Nevertheless, the narrative of Final Fantasy VIII showcases a great deal of emotional sincerity. That sincerity is what continues to draw me back to the game all these years after the fact. While it frequently falls flat on its face; no game swings, misses, and keeps on swinging, quite like Final Fantasy VIII. Inevitably, this leads me to the relationship between Squall and Rinoa, the main crux of the game's story. After mulling over it for a few years, I honestly think the writing staff behind Final Fantasy VIII wanted to share their version of a romance story. In that regard, I think they succeeded. The relationship between Rinoa and Squall is awkward, messy, and downright inconceivable in parts. Therefore, it is a perfect representation of genuine human love.
It is for that matter I was relieved to see nothing was done to change the "tone" of the story or characters. If there were any localization changes, they must have been for the best, because I did not notice them. Squall behaves exactly how you remembered, ellipses and all. Credit to Square for not re-contextualizing Squall using his appearance in Kingdom Hearts as a reference; which I continue to pretend NEVER HAPPENED! The same goes for the rest of the game's cast. I cannot tell you how much of a relief it was to see Selphie singing about trains, or Zell punching the sky. As goofy and moronic these characters may be, watching them animate as I remembered, felt like meeting an old friend for the first time in years.
In general, the story is the one part of Final Fantasy VIII Square has my full permission to leave untouched. I don't want or need voice acting during the game's cutscenes. In any event, I suspect adding voice acting would negatively impact the emotional weight of the game. Could you imagine modern-day Square-Enix trying to graft its current wheelhouse of voice actors to characters like Squall or Zell? For me, the mere idea is vomit-inducing. Personally, I miss the old days of being able to role-play as Final Fantasy characters and voice their lines as they come out. By including voice-acting, I think the Final Fantasy franchise took away the player's agency in interpreting the actions of their characters, but that's a topic for another time.
Should You Play The Final Fantasy VIII Remaster?
To me, Final Fantasy VIII is an aberration everyone should experience at least once in their life. I don't ask you to respect or support every design decision in the game. Goodness, even I have my fair share of criticisms of the game's story or level design. No matter, Final Fantasy VIII is a novel game that deserves a shot if and when you have the time. I wish this offering were on par with previous HD repackagings of Final Fantasy games, but that is neither here nor there. By default, Final Fantasy VIII Remastered is the best way to experience Final Fantasy VIII to date. The original game spans multiple discs and is hard to come by. The PSN re-release obviously isn't available on as many platforms and has the original game's crazy load times. The 2000 PC release is plagued by visual glitches and a horrible MIDI soundtrack. For anyone wanting to jump into Final Fantasy VIII for the first time, or possibly relive their memories, this is a great way to do that.
In spite of that, I cannot help but think Final Fantasy VIII deserves better than what it got. We all know Square-Enix can do better, and they have countless times prior. If the reason for this weak package is Square-Enix losing the game's source code, I want to say a little honesty would have gone a long way. In fact, Square-Enix doesn't need to be ashamed of themselves as they are not the first developer guilty of poorly curating their back catalog. If, however, this is nothing short of a rumor, then there's no reason for this remaster to be as bare-bones as it stands. The lack of any new scaffolding of the game's mechanics creates barriers for new players. Likewise, the absence of new modes or features makes it a hard sell to those who have already played the original game and lack nostalgia for Squall and his troupe of goofballs.
Even then, Final Fantasy VIII is a fantastic snapshot of Squaresoft's "Golden Age." I cannot even begin to fathom the insurmountable challenge that faced the team of designers and programmers assigned to Final Fantasy VIII. They took significant risks when making Final Fantasy VIII, and I respect them for it. Every minute and hour of Final Fantasy VIII is packed to the brim with gall and boundless creativity. The story and gameplay disregarded all of the standard conventions for games at the time, let alone Final Fantasy games. Yes, these risks do not always pay dividends. However, those few moments when things do work are magical, and I genuinely hope you take the time to seek them out.
Part 41: Why, Oh Why, Is There So Much Backtracking?
When we last met, Vayne made his power play, and our party set out for Draklor Laboratory. Before confronting Dr. Cid, . As I mentioned in the last blog, it is frustrating to watch the game refuse to engage in top-down worldbuilding. Square-Enix has level after level to weave the mythos of Ivalice into the DNA of Final Fantasy XII. Unfortunately, the game defaults to "story selling" and too often relies on its graphical prowess to carry its story. Take, for example, our thirteenth trek through Rabanstre following the events at Mt Bur-Omisace. With the Imperial occupation nearing its first anniversary, things appear as they did in chapter one. We don't see people collecting food rations, nor are Imperial agents attempting to enlist the local citizenry. Rabanstre is still stunning to look at, but at the same time, it's stuck in stasis.
I want to preface this point before we continue into the "meat and potatoes" of this blog. While I'm not "sold" on its mechanics, I am enjoying its story and characters. Vayne, Balthier, Ashe, Gabranth, and Basch come into focus by the story's mid-point and do an excellent job of hiding the game's mechanical missteps. Regrettably, they are not given enough time to develop despite the game's elongated playing time. Of our SIX upcoming transitional levels, only ONE, the Phon Coast, advances any of the character arcs currently in play. Again, I'm not bellyaching over what the game attempts at storytelling; instead, I wish there was more of it.
However, there is something about the game's structure which continues to rub me the wrong way. A lot of the levels you explore during your trek to Archades do not "open up" until AFTER you finish your business at Draklor Laboratory. To illustrate, let's examine the Mosphoran Highwaste. When you first enter the level, you'll discover a dozen or so temples, each dedicated to a long-forgotten deity during the reign of King Raithwall. You latter find an Esper, Exodus, is imprisoned there after fighting on the losing side of an ancient war between Ivalice's gods. All of this information is interesting worldbuilding you have no hopes of learning until HOURS after the environment's introduction. Admittedly, the optional Espers are fun super bosses for die-hard fans. Nonetheless, the Mosphoran Highwaste is a "dead level" without this encounter. Not to mention, tucking away worldbuilding behind optional boss encounters, which necessitate hours of extra grinding, is shitty!
And while I rant about nit-picky bullshit, let's talk about the game's Byzantine fast travel system. Most of the side quests and hunts unlock a surprising amount of Ivalice's supporting lore. Therefore, several are worth doing as they contribute a lot to the game's mood and tone. The issue here comes when you need to travel vast distances using the game's teleport system. Admittedly, I've already talked about how I think Final Fantasy XII has a "proper noun problem." Not only do you need to wrap your mind around an insane number of proper nouns, but every environment is a word salad of Final Fantasy jargon. Worse, when you go up to a teleport crystal, instead of showing you a map of the overworld, it presents you with a contextless list of previously encountered environments.
You might be wondering why I am spending so much time talking about Final Fantasy XII's fast travel system. Well, I WANT you to know I attempted to complete a LOT of this game's side content! Indeed, I finished over 60% of the hunts and a majority of the optional Esper battles. Consequently, my "blind" playthrough of Final Fantasy XII exceeded As a result, I don't want to hear any of you say I didn't "try" to learn the game's mechanics, because I did. But time and time again, the amount of aimless wandering built into EVERY questline, crushed my soul! Which is especially tragic as the game puts in a ton of excellent work into its bestiary. Seriously, if you have never read the codex entries on the Espers, you are missing out on some of the best lore in Final Fantasy XII!
Part 42: At Least The Levels Aren't All Brown Deserts Anymore
Speaking of which, let's talk about the hunts for a bit. I won't deny having my share of fun with Final Fantasy XII's hunt system. In fact, in a lot of ways, they provide better boss encounters than the mainline story. By all means, the side quests do a vastly superior job of exposing you to single-element or status-focused bosses. These fights were critical in helping me to identify useful Gambits for the last handful of dungeons. What drives me bonkers is how the hunts are unlike any quest system I have seen before. Why the game doesn't draw hunts, fetch quests, or menial tasks organically within each of its environments continues to blow my mind.
On the positive side, I liked how hunts were often "combat puzzles." I enjoyed having to identify elemental weaknesses and turning those weaknesses into advantages. Then again, eventually, I gave up on completing side quests. Part of this sentiment was the result of spending hours exploring the same desert wasteland for the seven hundredth time. Equally important, the difficulty progression of Final Fantasy XII's side quests is BRUTAL! Veteran players will back me up here, but there comes the point in Final Fantasy XII wherein the optional content requires max level characters. Inevitably, accomplishing this feat requires hours upon hours of grinding beyond the mainline story.
I do have to say I am happy the game shows more visual variety as you get closer to Archades. Even a basic-ass dungeon like the Sochen Cave Palace is a breath of fresh air because it does not look like anything you have previously encountered. Nonetheless, you may recall me criticizing Final Fantasy XII's environments as being "forgettable," and I stand by that statement. The lack of worldbuilding grievously hampers my interest when moving from one level to the next. Of course, beggars can't be choosers; at least the game is "done" repeating the same brown monochromatic color palette from the first two chapters. In contrast, the mid-game environments showcase a change in climate, which lends to the sense of us going on a continent-spanning adventure.
Furthermore, as someone fresh off of playing Final Fantasy XIII, it's nice to see the world of Ivalice populated with NPCs. And not just any NPCs, mind you, but NPCs with stories to tell. You learn so much about the world by talking to NPCs. The fact there are people in the world struggling with the same issues as our party, adds to the "wholeness" of Ivalice. Additionally, each environment's differences become immediately apparent through these interactions. By talking to different populations, you notice region-specific social quirks.
Under normal circumstances, I would be incredibly receptive to Final Fantasy XII providing the characters with "breathing room." Unfortunately, the game fails to reciprocate my open-mindedness. Foremost, until we reach the Phon Coast, the cutscenes are exclusively about introducing new environments and rarely, if ever, add to or resolve ongoing storylines. It's odd, to say the least, to have these beautiful backdrops teeming with flora and fauna, and yet, our player characters are as "dead" as a doornail. For fuck's sake, Finally, and I cannot preface this point enough, the last significant moment in the story involved an Imperial judge massacring the citizenry of Mt Bur-Omisace. Does the story honestly want me to believe none of the characters have any form of PTSD?
Part 43: I Have Nice Things To Say About An Environmental Puzzle For Once
I do want to preface this blog's overall tone is going to be positive. Therefore, apologies for putting my bellyaching in the first three chapters. Regardless, after a brief trek through the Mosphoran Highwaste, our party finds itself at the Salikawood. Before I sing a few praises, I want to make it abundantly clear, the map for this level is atrocious. The Salikawood may well be my least favorite level in Final Fantasy XII due in no part to its endless supply of dead-ends. That said, it's a beautiful level with some grounding in the world. In some odd way, it reminds me of the Macalania Woods in Final Fantasy X. Both play like shit but are beautiful to look at and have exciting story moments to share.
Admittedly, collecting a troupe of Moogles to build a bridge doesn't sound compelling on paper. Furthermore, if I were to tell you the "quest" here boils down to an elongated game of hide-and-go-seek, you might even think I'm going crazy. In spite of that, the game makes your time at the Salikawood feel both worthwhile and intellectually engaging. For one thing, completing this quest leads to an awesome boss fight against a neat looking bomb enemy, and who says "no" to that? Second, helping the Craftsmoogles' League build a bridge is one of the few times when your actions impact the surrounding environment.
There's a similar moment at the Tchita Uplands. There, you meet up with a company of wealthy Arcadians, and their leader gives you a fake hunt to rid the nearby Sochen Cave of its mandragora infestation. Initially, this scene might not seem like much. However, as we learn more about Archades and its social practices, it ends up serving as excellent foreshadowing. When we finally make our way to Archades, we discover it to be a class-driven society. A random buffoon handing out an independent hunt, entirely removed from the Hunter's Guild, is a smart representation of this classism.
Again, these small touches do a lot of the heavy lifting in contextualizing the game's transitional environments. They are undoubtedly amusing to look back on, but I can't help but think the game misses a lot of opportunities to bring the supporting characters to the forefront. To highlight, it has been DAYS since we last heard from Penelo! Even characters like Balthier or Ashe go quiet for the better part of five hours! Likewise, I wish each of these environments were smaller. Seriously, there is no reason for the Tchita Uplands to be eleven parts or the Phon Coast TWELVE!
And if we want to return to Final Fantasy XII's proper noun problem, now is as good enough reason as ever. Let's take the Tchita Uplands as a quick case study. First, and we will talk about this issue shortly, you find several items and magic spells strewn throughout the level. To illustrate, "Float," "Blindga," and "Regen" are all available here, but good luck if you plan to pick them up within a single sitting. If someone is hoping to pick up "Regen," they first need to enter the "Realm of the Elder Dream." Then, they move southward until they find an exit to the "Oliphzak Rise," where they need to find a northwest entrance to "The Nameless Spring." From there, you travel to the "Garden of Life's Circle," and trek to a southeast path leading to "The Lost Way."
Part 44: Balthier Becomes A Character In Less Than Five Minutes
Throughout this blog, I have made references to the Phon Coast and how it represents the point where the story gets its shit together. While true, that doesn't mean it is innocent of committing the same mistakes the story has perpetuated since its inception. For one thing, Balthier's backstory is splayed out during a ten-minute in-game cutscene. Yes, it is a great scene, but HOT DAMN, was there no way for the story to foreshadow Baltheir's exposition dump? Before reaching the Phon Coast, there's ONE moment at the Henne Mines where Balthier name drops Draklor Laboratory. The issue here is the story doesn't resurface this point until the Phon Coast, which is
The second issue I have stems from Final Fantasy XII's design. After Balthier pours his heart out to Ashe, we STILL have to clear out the Sochen Cave Palace. There is no reason why there needs to be a three-hour grind session between this and the next major set-piece. Finally, and I have to pick my words here carefully, I wish there were more to Balthier's relationship with Fran than what the game provides. The two of them are genuinely the best pairing in the game, and I wish we knew more about how they met. Instead, the two have isolated character moments. While the game provides a handful of charming vignettes where they play off each other perfectly, their relationship always feels like an afterthought.
All nitpicking aside, At the Phon Coast, Balthier reveals he was once an Archadia Judge, and Dr. Cid is his father. He then weaves a tragic tale of how his father's quest to research nethicite quickly corrupted him. Furthermore, it's abundantly apparent Balthier is sharing this story as a word of caution. While he doesn't outright say it, he cares about his party members and values them as close companions. Balthier shows he knows all too well the heartbreak nethicite can create and attempts to protect his friends from harm.
I also want to add, Ashe's handfull of character interjections are equally gratifying. Time and time again, we have seen her look exasperated as the specter of her former husband haunts her. Thanks to a quick flashback, we now know why that is the case. We discover, while many outsiders viewed her marriage as one of political convenience, she genuinely cared about Rasler. With this point established, her encounters with Rasler's ghost become more tragic. Likewise, the story does a commendable job of showing how conflicted Ashe feels about her choice on what to do with the Sun Cryst. On the one hand, she wants the Empire to suffer for taking away her homeland and virtually everyone she loves. On the other hand, she knows doing so would cause the world of Ivalice untold suffering and misery.
Finally, let's talk about the masterful framing at the Phon Coast. The cutscene here relies heavily on medium shots so you can better see the expressiveness of the game's character models. Also, the game's direction expertly uses closeups to frame significant revelations. When Balthier admits his father, Dr. Cid, is "dead," the camera pans to his dejected face. Equally compelling, are the scenes that play around with depth of field. When Balthier and Ashe debate what to do with the Sun Cryst; Penelo and Vann play around in the background. I don't want to belittle Vaan or Penelo, but their inclusion hits home the fact our adventure is a fight for Ivalice's future.
Part 45: This Game's Magic System Fucking Sucks
Now seems like a good enough time to review my progress with Final Fantasy XII's job system. To put it bluntly, As it stands, there are three characters I can level up with ease, and three I dread using. To review, I decided to spread the various job classes equally among my party members. My issue is I do not have enough high-use abilities, especially when it comes to restorative magic. However, I have a TON of redundant or situational debuff spells. For those who may have missed it earlier, here are my job assignments:
Ashe - Black Mage & Monk
Balthier - Foebreaker & Shikari (Ninja)
Basch - Archer & Red Mage
Fran - Uhlan (Dragoon) & Time Mage
Penelo - White Mage & Machinist
Vaan - Samurai & Knight
My big mistake was not doubling up on the White Mage class. As a result, I significantly lacked healing options during the mid-game. The Knight class has some healing spells, but only if you unlock the appropriate Esper-only routes. By the same token, jobs like the Uhlan or Shikari are dependent on items you can easily miss should you not search every nook and cranny in the dungeons. Speaking of which, throughout the game's more than twenty dungeons, there are CRITICAL magical spells you can only acquire from random treasure chests! Thus, I felt the progression of my characters was always being held back because I wanted to progress the story at a reasonable rate.
Which reminds me, it is a HUGE BUMMER the game puts essential class-defining spells in random treasure chests! To illustrate, I never had "Bravery" or "Faith!" For whatever reason, the treasure chests containing those spells refused to spawn, and because both are in a nasty dungeon, I elected to move on with my life. For a White Mage, loosing out on two spells is a big deal! Additionally, a class like the Knight can become unusable in the late-game if you fail to get its high-tier equipment.
This issue is at its worst during the mid-game, especially if you have been attempting a decent amount of side quests. During this point of the game, I would often pool up License Points because there was nothing immediately tangible for me to buy. Then there's the flip-side of this issue which is almost as frustrating. From time to time, the game would give me a neat weapon or armor set after completing a quest. Unfortunately, these newly acquired items would be on a distant corner of my character's License Board. Thus, my rewards would often be non-viable for another two to three hours.
And we haven't even talked about the "Green Magick" spells only accessible via Clan Centurio! ! Both of these spells are incredibly important as they are inextricably linked to the game's interpretation of tanking. For example, "Decoy" allows one ally to be the target of all foes. Not being able to perform this spell because you ignored the Clan Hall is game design maleficence! Then, we have "Bubble," which doubles the health of your characters and makes you immune to the "Disease" status effect. For anyone disinterested in power-leveling, Bubble is your only viable way of reaching "max health." Not to mention, protecting your characters from "Disease" is a MAJOR concept in the last two dungeons! And let me tell you something,
Speaking of locking important shit behind a wall, let's talk about the Espers and how they relate to the License Board. In the Zodiac Age, a majority of the Espers unlock bridges and gaps on a variety of job boards. However, What I found particularly distasteful is how early the game introduces these Espers. When you first go up against Belias, none of your character classes have developed enough to where you have a clear understanding of their strengths and weaknesses. Locking the player into a blind choice that early into the game is a jerk move. However, it is even more heinous several of the character classes have their late-game abilities locked behind the optional Espers which are among the hardest bosses in the game!
Part 46: Bosses Continue To Be A Royal Pain In The Ass
Our party collects a "Soul Ward key" to unlock the "Hall of Lambent Darkness" in the Sochen Cave Palace. There, you fight five Mandragoras. It is at this point I wish to talk about Final Fantasy XII's boss design. Either, bosses are a cakewalk or are a pain in the ass and require hours of planning. Boss fights that include more than one enemy are especially tricky thanks to the Gambit System. In the case of the Mandragoras, each has a suite of weaknesses and strengths independent from the other. As such, it is IMPOSSIBLE to prepare each of your characters for everything you face. On top of that, between the five of them, they have virtually every status effect at their disposal.
What especially frustrated me about this battle is how it builds difficulty by taking away what little control you have over your characters. First and foremost, the status effects in Final Fantasy XII are devastating. It does not help several of the late-game status effects are just different permutations of the same concept. Stone, Petrify, Immobilize, Stop, Sleep, Confuse, and Disable all prevent you from attacking. Worse, there's no rhyme or reason on how to alleviate these maladies. Some can be cured via "Esuna" while others require a specific White Magic spell. To add insult to injury, you need to buy licenses to make remedies behave as they do in previous Final Fantasy games.
The endless stream of adverse status effects has an immediate impact on your Gambit Slots. For virtually each of my characters, I had piles of gambits for situational status effects. Furthermore, I don't understand why every status effect has a specific curative spell. I get these effect-specific spells are "cheaper," but they make the Gambit System even more cluttered and fiddly. Additionally, having to use more than half my slots to plan for status effects eats away supporting roles for my characters. For instance, I'd like for Penelo to play around with her impressive Machinist abilities. However, because Esuna only cures half of the bullshit I'm up against, she always has her Gambits gobbled up by spells like "Blindga" or "Stonga!" And I haven't even talked about how characters don't use curative spells on themselves when you program an "Ally" Gambit! Why the FUCK isn't there an "If Status Effect X, Then Use Spell Y" command?
Nonetheless, let's return to the issue of multiple targets during boss battles. When you have several enemies during a boss, the Gambit System becomes a liability. In the case of Mandragoras, you CANNOT protect your party against all of their status effects. Furthermore, preparing your Gambits is virtually impossible. With curative items and spells gobbling up half my slots, I could only effectively plan for one or two enemies. Then, once the fight is over, you have to re-assemble your Gambits for general combat. Because the game lacks a "Copy Gambit" feature, you spend more time fiddling around with the Gambit menu than fighting actual bosses.
Things get worse when your heroes reach Ahriman. In this encounter, Ahriman can divide into several copies that need to die before you can begin doing damage. If you go into this battle with your party programmed to attack the nearest available target, your characters will split up and end up getting wasted. However, in several of the previous battles, you NEED to use Gambits to split your characters up, so they fight smaller targets before moving onto larger ones. What would have done wonders is if each environment required a specific Gambit strategy which culminates in a boss that requires you to "master" that concept.
On a related note, I felt the game never prepare me for bosses with spell-based weaknesses. Creating Gambits where my characters knew when to cast single-target versus area-of-effect spells was beyond my abilities. But there are other housekeeping items I wish the game did a better job of communicating. It wasn't until the game's final act I grappled the importance of casting "Dispel." That's because the game never created a scenario where doing so was a necessity. Likewise, in the last handful of dungeons, there is an excessive number of flying enemy types. It wasn't until I referred to a guide when I found out I could use the "Telekinesis" Technick to use melee weapons to attack flying characters from a distance. Why wouldn't you create a boss where doing so is the central conceit of a battle?
Part 47: Old Archades, And The Point When I "Got On Board" With Final Fantasy XII
Rest assured, the remainder of this blog will be relatively positive. And for a good reason, following the Sochen Cave Palace, we reach the best level in the game, the city of Archades. As impressive as the game's previous set pieces like Rabanastre or Jahara can be, they lack the scope of Archades. Not only does the city solidify the theme of Archades being on a higher technological level than the rest of the world, but it also adds a lot to the world of Ivalice. More so than any other environment in the game, you feel like you are in an alien world. To better underscore this point, you interact with an independent currency when exploring the city.
However, before Ashe and company can explore the city's center, they must first navigate the slums of Archades. Here again, I have to commend the story's writing. Old Archades does a mastful job of cluing us in on the stratification of Archadian society. At the slums, you find people undone by the rampant backstabbing of Imperial life. By interacting with these drifters, the story provides extra context to what is driving the Empire's conquest for new lands. Not only is the Empire hotly nationalistic, but a mad sense of proving one's worth drives its entire society. To many, the prospect of Rozzaria or Dalmasca being a "seat of power" is not an acceptable prospect.
Moreover, your early actions in Old Archades leave a memorable impression. Once you reach the gate to the proper city, you find a guard blocking your progress. Balthier uses one of his old contacts, a rumormonger named "Jules," to help us out. To crystallize the cache of Archadian life, you cause a brawl after spreading rumors about one of the participants. Again, it's a quick moment which shows information is the name of the game in Archades. Speaking of Balthier, he comes into his own at this point in the story. Here he begins to develop an almost paternalistic relationship with Vaan and mentors him about skills necessary to be an apt sky pirate. As I mentioned before, it is refreshing to see characters show they care about each other without the use of overwrought melodrama.
Be that as it may, I wish the tasks in Archades did not boil down to you playing "matchmaker" with the city's inhabitants. As your company makes its way into the capital's central plaza, Archades' independent currency impedes your progress. Before you can hail a taxi to take you to Draklor Laboratory, you'll first need to collect an excessive number of "chops." Before I go on another rant, I want to make it clear . To begin with, I like Archades having a token economy separated from the rest of the world. It hits home how highly the country thinks of itself. At a more literal level, I'm grateful Square finally put in the effort to connect an in-game puzzle to the story at hand.
Finally, the construct of "chops" and social service gives you an idea of how the world of the Empire functioned before the rise of Vayne. As you run around trying to collect on your good deeds, you see different classes of Archadian society at play. The people who have chops are elites who cannot be bothered to attend to their daily needs. On the flip side, you see up-and-comers frantically running around trying to increase their societal stock. As you explore the plaza, you see commoners in simple clothing and idle rich dressed extravagantly. It's impressive to see all this worldbuilding accomplished without the need of a decadent CG cutscene.
That said, First, the map does not mark the elites who are willing to give you chops. As a result, you spend hours milling about with random NPCs hoping to find people who are eager to clue you into a grievance which requires redress. Then, all they do is provide a hint of who they wish to confront before handing you a nominal reward. The result is a lot of running around, which becomes even more frustrating in you can only complete one mission at a time. It was endlessly annoying to walk a vast distance, only to know I would have to return to that same location to start a different mission. It certainly sucks, but not enough to ruin the goodwill the game built up to this point.
Part 48: Archades, And Sympathy For The Devil
The amount of contextualizing of Archades as an organic world leads me to one of my favorite aspects of Final Fantasy XII. Despite overt support for imperialism, the citizens of Arachades feel like "real" people. The society they live in is not without fault, but that criticism applies to every world we have encountered before it. To illustrate, the Viera have a greater appreciation for the environment, but they are isolationists to a fault. The Garif of Jahara have the highest admiration for Ivalice's history, but they are Luddites. It's interesting to see each part of Ivalice have a different approach to governing, but also a critical flaw preventing them from achieving utopia.
Speaking of which, building sympathy for both sides of a conflict is an underappreciated part of storytelling. It is also something Final Fantasy XII accomplishes in spades. A lot of Final Fantasy XII's final act relies on your party needing to stop a cataclysmic war where everyone is set to lose. The stakes there would not feel entirely earned if just one side of the conflict felt genuine. In the case of Final Fantasy XII, you believe peaceful co-existence doesn't only benefit Rabanastre or Dalmasca, but Archades as well. Moreover, there are aspects of Arachadian society other parts of the world would benefit from adopting.
Then we have our primary villains of Final Fantasy XII. It is important to note, Vayne, Dr. Cid, and Vanat are characters in and of themselves. Furthermore, . We later discover the three of them want to give humanity the right to determine its fate. While admirable on paper, their overt support for totalitarianism ensures their way is not the correct way. Nonetheless, their scheme is understandable, and that makes their arc more compelling to follow than your usual Final Fantasy villainous fare. They are wicked individuals, yes, but ones with motivations as unmistakable as our party, and that's refreshing to see.
Furthermore, it's a breath of fresh air to see villains cohesively work together to achieve a goal. At no point does Vayne raise his voice in anger or threaten bloody violence when Dr. Cid encounters a roadblock. Instead, . That's fucking rad, and I wish more video game stories followed suit! Watching the trio interact lends to a sense of them being on a journey as epic as primary characters. Better yet, it does wonders to craft this undertone there's a kernel of good in what they are trying to achieve.
Be that as it may, there's one aspect of our nefarious trio that draws conflicting feelings in me. Part of me wishes Vayne and company were not as overtly evil in their endeavors. By the time the game introduces the concept of the Occuria, we have already seen Vayne order no less than three acts of genocide. If Vayne's only character flaw was his lack of trust in ordinary people, I think that's more compelling than him being a mass-murderer. All the same, I like Dr. Cid being a larger-than-life character. Conversely, a lot of the final chapter's cache holds because you feel like stopping Vayne is critical to saving Ivalice. Ultimately, I recognize there are two sides to this coin, but oddly enough, I like both sides equally.
Part 49: Fuck The Haters, Evil Doctor Cid Is GREAT!
After a bit of fussing about in the central plaza of Archades, you make your way to Darklor Laboratory. Regrettably, the science facility itself is a nightmare to navigate. There are ostensibly four floors to traverse, but they are anachronistic as they range from levels 66 to 70. Worse, you play around with an infernal number of switches before navigating to the next floor. To open up elevators, your party needs to initiate a specific series of blue and red switches to open a gauntlet of doors. If you make even one mistake, a swarm of Imperial soldiers will attack.
I cannot preface this point enough, Square-Enix has included puzzles in Final Fantasy games since their inception. What gets me is Square makes the same mistake every time. Time and time again, they present a barrier to your progress and at no point share a "tell" which foreshadows how to resolve the puzzle. Here, the game locks an arbitrary set of doors between you and an elevator. It assumes you can figure out a random assortment of blue and red switches to unlock these doors. It also believes I have the patience to solve this organically and NOT with a guide.
As you know, I am always one to give credit where credit is due. Balthier is stellar from beginning to end at Draklor. Initially, he joshes around that things are far too quiet for the maniacal doctor he knows too well. Then, when he sees victims of the doctor's recent experiments, he repeatedly laments the monster his father has become. Once you make your way to the final level of the facility, you cross paths with a mysterious stranger, whom we later discover to be the legendary pirate, Reddas. Likewise, when we hear Dr. Cid billowing in the background, everyone, including Reddas, bolts after him.
Accordingly, I want to talk about Dr. Cid. At this point, I think I have shrugged off my original moniker of being a Final Fantasy "newbie." Humorously, dozens of you have come forward to admit I have played more Final Fantasy games than you have in a lifetime. Therefore, I want to use my position of "authority" to right a wrong about Dr. Cid. Before doing so, I have to make a handful of concessions. Yes, Dr. Cid is the first, and thus far only, version of the Cid character who is evil. Yes, Dr. Cid's voice actor wears Final Fantasy XII's Shakespearean influences more overtly than any other character. Yes, Dr. Cid says some of the worst lines in the game. And finally, yes, each time you fight him, his battles are pure schlock.
Be that as it may, I cannot fathom why many fans rank Dr. Cid on the lower half of the franchise's use of the Cid-archetype. I'm sorry, but when was it wrong for Final Fantasy characters to be silly? Dr. Cid not only walks the walk, but he talks the talk! He is a character with a distinctive sense of style, and thoroughly enjoys everything he does, and Whenever Cid enters a scene, he makes his presence immediately apparent either in his mannerisms or swagger. Also, in a world as grave as Final Fantasy XII, it is uplifting to see someone fully embrace the silly and nonsensical sensibilities of the game's plot.
I know a lot of people cite Dr. Cid's voice acting as a hindrance to their ability to accept him. Even on that matter, I have to push back. Of the characters that have speaking lines in Final Fantasy XII, Dr. Cid has the worst script by a mile! And you know what? His inflections are on point, and his dramatic pauses are some of the best in the game. Finally, if we are condemning a character for saying one too many one-liners, then virtually every Final Fantasy protagonist needs to be thrown in the trash. Beyond that, he's a driven individual with a communicated end goal. Doesn't that make Dr. Cid the "total package?"
Part 50: This Game Almost Pulls Off One Of The Greatest Turnarounds
As if I couldn't get any more positive about Final Fantasy XII, things get even better after your tussle with Dr. Cid. Through a handful of dramatic conversations, Dr. Cid reveals he's been working with a specter named "Venat." He then goads Ashe into traveling to Giruvegan where he promises she will learn more about nethicite and its worldly powers. He promises to meet up with them there and challenges Ashe to reject the temptation of nethicite. When Reddas learns that Ashe is the heir of the Dalmascan throne, he offers to help her on her quest. Afterward, the party departs for the pirate haven, Balfonheim Port.
Immediately after the conclusion of the game's third act, it cuts away to Marquis Ondore. At an unknown location, Ondore is assembling a formidable fleet of resistance fighters. While it is certainly fun to look at the game's impressive ship designs, the scene reminds us of the stakes at hand. Should we not act quickly, a cataclysmic war is bound to tear apart the social fabric of Ivalice. Back at Balfonheim Port, Reddas details his extensive relationship to Ondore's resistance effort.
As he explains, Reddas has trained much of the resistance effort and maintains a symbiotic relationship with Ondore. In fact, Reddas has Ondore to thank for his most recent attempt to infiltrate Draklor Laboratory. At the same time, both leaders abhor war and are trying to seek a peaceful resolution to Dalmasca's occupation. Ondore hopes if he assembles a strong enough fleet, Vayne will listen to his requests for a peace treaty. Reddas, on the other hand, is attempting to destroy all sources of manufacture nethicite covertly. As I have said before, it's nice to have driven characters with reasonable goals in a Final Fantasy story for once.
My chief complaint with Final Fantasy XII is it often presents a series of compelling vignettes with zero to no follow-up. Luckily, that is no longer the case. From this point forward, Final Fantasy XII fully commits to the geopolitical drama it has been teasing for the better part of forty hours. That is not to say, helping Ashe, Basch, Balthier, and Vaan wasn't enjoyable. Even so, none of those characters moments are on par with the story's final act.
Is the crux of the narrative heavily reliant on magical MacGuffins? Yes, but when the game is willing to commit to believable drama, and have the cinematics to back it up, I'm happy to ignore that shortcoming. Furthermore, the final levels avoid much of my previous bellyaching. Outside of a handful of grind-heavy portions at the Pharos Lighthouse, there's not a single story set-piece that fails to contribute something to the overall narrative. Better yet, the characters, outside of maybe Penelo, come to form in the next ten hours. Vaan begins to assume several responsibilities as Balthier mentors him. Balthier, on the other hand, evolves before our eyes to become a caring father-figure. Basch provides practical advice to Ashe as he acts as her emotional shield. Ashe remains as driven as ever, and her inner turmoil continues to be believable. I love everything this game has become, and that puts me in an awkward situation.
Here's the quandary I find myself in: I spent the better part of eighty hours playing Final Fantasy XII, and I would say I only enjoyed half of what I played. Part of me still wants to say I hate "playing" Final Fantasy XII. Then again, I'm not willing to go so far as to suggest, as I did earlier, that the Gambit and License Systems are a total loss. No matter, I do not want to undersell how good the story gets in its final act. The character transformations are some of the most compelling I have seen in the franchise. So, do I ignore the fact the game disrespected my time by funneling me through endless streams of trash mobs for thirty plus hours? That doesn't seem professional on my part, but there are two sides to that coin. How much should I let a game's slow introduction hold back what I think is one of the most satisfying conclusions I have ever seen?
I don't have an answer for you at this point, but maybe I will when we meet again. As you can tell, the next time we talk about Final Fantasy XII will be the conclusion of this series. Until then, I genuinely want you to help me out here. Can you think of any games, whether they be Final Fantasy related or not, you did not enjoy until the very end? How did you assess that game's value?Would you recommend such experiences to others? Feel free to use to comments to share any similar games of your own as I'm all ears!
Earlier last month, I was scanning Amazon, as I am wont to do, looking for a new cooperative board game. With an ungodly number of Pandemic and Robinson Crusoe play-throughs under my belt, I was looking for something a bit more challenging. Don't get me wrong, Robinson Crusoe isn't exactly a cakewalk, but my board game group has played it to death, and I was looking for something new but in the same wheelhouse. Unfortunately, the vast majority of cooperative board games tend to aim for entry-level to intermediate audiences, and we are not that. After an exhaustive search, however, I discovered the Bloodborne card game adaptation from Eric M. Lang.
For those unaware, Eric M. Lang is a legendary designer in the board game industry. His credits include the universally beloved "Blood Rage" as well as the incredibly flashy "The Others." Lang is also a bit of a board game polymath. The man has worked with a variety of properties, both original and licensed, and has found success in several different mediums. While most are familiar with his work on Blood Rage, he has seen equal success at making card games. Throughout his career, Lang has designed collectible card games utilizing the Star Wars, Game of Thrones, Call of Cthulhu, and Warhammer properties. Finally, if there are any of you who enjoy playing Duelyst, you should be aware he was the game's lead designer.
I say all this to point out Eric Lang is a person to follow in the board game community. And yet, the release of his Bloodborne card game alluded me until three years after its release. I get I am not entirely in the loop when it comes to new board game releases, but I don't even recall seeing the thing at my brick and mortar card shop. Regardless, I bought it at the highly affordable rate of $22. The game has an expansion pack known as "The Hunter's Nightmare" which adds in more bosses and monsters. I should also mention a full-fledged Bloodborne board game adaptation is coming out sometime in 2020, though, this game is not without controversy in the board gaming community.
Even so, I get there's a bit of an "elephant in the room" before I continue this review. I know many of you see the words "card game" and immediately think of Magic the Gathering or any other trading card game. If that's you, rest assured, Bloodborne: The Card Game is a "drafting game" that does not require any investment outside of the base game. For those unaware, card drafting games are games in which players pick cards from a pool to gain an advantage over their fellow players. In the case of Bloodborne: The Card Game, players work "cooperatively" to survive a dungeon created through the random selection of monster and boss cards. With that mini-disclaimer out of the way, let's review the game's components.
First off, Bloodborne comes in a small, tightly-packed, box. Even so, I did not struggle with organizing the game's components after several uses. These parts are as follows:
50 Five-Point Blood Echo Tokens
60 One-Point Blood Echo Tokens
1 First Player Token
15 Trophy Tokens
5 Hunter Dials
3 Custom Monster Dice
25 Hunter Starter Cards
32 Hunter Upgrade Cards
18 Chalice Dungeon Cards
7 Chalice Dungeon Boss Cards
5 Final Boss Cards
5 Hunter Boards
To some, this list might sound like a lot of elements, but in actuality, it isn't. Indeed, ease of set-up is one of the game's best aspects as it takes at most five to six minutes to prepare. First, you collect the Final Boss cards, shuffle them up and randomly select one. The final boss goes in the middle of the table, and their de-buff remains active for the entire session. Next, you prepare the Chalice Dungeon by first separating the boss and monster cards. You shuffle each deck and randomly select seven monsters and three bosses. After combing the two, to create a deck of ten cards, you again shuffle the cards and keep the order and identify of the cards a secret.
With the Chalice Dungeon finished, it's time to set up each player. First, you prepare the "Upgrade Deck" by shuffling it and turning over one upgrade card per player to make them available when the game begins. Second, each player takes a Hunter Board and places the appropriate Trophy Tokens on their respective spots. Afterward, each player gets the same starting deck of equipment as well as a health dial. The health dials are set to eight unless a boss or monster reduces that number via a passive de-buff. Blood tokens go to the side, and players pick someone to go first and give them the "First Player Token." The game then starts after the first player turns over the first monster card in the Chalice Dungeon deck.
Before I address the mechanics, let's review the quality of the components. The components are perfectly acceptable for something I bought for $20 on Amazon. As such, if you are looking for high production values in this budget-priced card game, then you will be sorely disappointed. Nonetheless, even with realistic expectations, the game's corner-cutting is immediately noticeable. For one thing, you have to punch out every cardboard token from a prefabricated sheet. Admittedly, doing so saves money, and the symbols look nice, but this has always been a pet peeve of mine.
The rest of the components are incredibly inconsistent. The cards use modified screencaps from the video game. While that may sound off-putting to some, they of a high enough quality where they don't feel cheap. What does annoy me about the art style is its muted color palette. I understand this was a creative choice to mimic the video game's gothic art style. Be that as it may, the game asks you to keep track of a significant amount of iconography, and the almost monochromatic color scheme makes this a chore. As you can see in the gallery below, each monster or boss card has a health icon, color-coded difficulty lantern, trophy type, and ability. All of this information is jam-packed on a DARK standard-sized playing card! Luckily, the final bosses are on larger cards, but they are still dark and difficult to read especially when playing the game in larger groups.
To make matters worse, a lot of the components are fiddly! The health dials are two pieces of cardboard attached using two plastic fasteners. Here, I would have preferred something similar to the health sliders from King of Tokyo. Also, the game asks you to place four sets of tokens on your player/hunter board. You have all three types of trophy tokens as well as any Blood Echos you manage to collect. With nothing holding these pieces in place, you are one ill-timed knee bump away from ruining your game. Then you have the custom dice which are color-coded to match the difficulty lanterns on the monster or boss cards. While the rest of the game features a muted color palette, these dice look like they came from the Crayola crayon factory. None of these issues are in and of themselves "deal breakers" so long as the game provides a fun and replayable experience. So, let's review how to play the game.
How It's Played
Bloodborne takes place over several rounds, each of which takes eight steps. The following steps occur during each round:
Choose & Play Action Cards
Resolve Instant Effects
Monster Attack Phase
Hunter Attack Phase
Monster Escape (if possible)
The Hunter's Dream
End Of The Round
Before the round starts, the first player turns over one card from the Chalice Dungeon deck and reveals it to the party. If the card has an "Instant Effect," this effect is immediately addressed before the round begins. Additionally, be aware, the passive buffs of the Final Boss apply throughout the game. Likewise, the first player places Blood Echos on top of the revealed card to match the monster's health. If you are playing with four players, the game asks you to add an extra Blood Echo, and two if you are playing with five. At the start of each round, players choose one of their action cards and reveal them to the party. The game asks you to keep your action cards concealed from the rest of the party, though open discussions are permitted.
If any players from the previous round chose the "Transform" card, they move to step two and can choose any melee or ranged weapon in their hand. Once action cards and weapons are selected, players resolve any "Instant Effects" associated with their cards. It is possible for your instant effects to KO the monster before the attack phase, and the game encourages you to take advantage of this opportunity whenever possible. Any Blood Echos you gain from instant effects transfer to the "Collected Blood Echos" section of your Hunter Deck.
If the monster is still alive, the round transitions into the "combat phase," and the monster card always attacks first. To determine how much damage they do, identify the color-coded die that matches the monster's difficulty lantern, and roll that die. If the number you roll has a plus symbol, continue rolling until you roll a number that does not have a plus symbol and add the sum of every number. The monster then does that sum of damage to every player, even those who have not yet attacked. If any players die, remove their non-banked Blood Echos, and return them to the pile. These players are out of play until the "Hunter's Dream" step. If a player opted to enter the "Hunter's Dream," they will only take half damage, but they will not be able to attack the monster.
Now, starting with the first player, review the blood icon on your weapon and begin removing that number of Blood Echos from the monster or boss. For example, the "Saw Cleaver" inflicts one point of damage. Start with the first player and then move clockwise while skipping any "dead" hunters. Any Blood Echos you remove from monsters are stored on your Hunter Deck and are worth points. Be aware, some action or weapon cards take effect after a monster attacks or dies. To illustrate, the "Saw Spear" inflicts extra damage for each point of damage you take when a monster attacks.
If the monster dies, any player that dealt it damage gains a trophy and moves their matching trophy icon accordingly. On the other hand, if the beast is alive after every player attacks, it escapes and inflicts a negative status effect if the card has one. Monsters labeled as bosses never escape, and the two combat phases repeat until either it or all players are dead. If you are fighting a boss for more than one round, instant effects do not happen more than once, though passive buffs still apply until the end of the combat phase. At the end of the combat phase, should the players be victorious, all cards used during the battle are discarded and placed next to the player who used them.
If the monster or boss is dead, you move into the game's final two steps. First, if any players used the "Hunter's Dream" card during the first step, they enter the "Hunter's Dream." As mentioned earlier, these players take half damage during battles, but cannot attack. After the battle is over, these players "bank" any previously collected Blood Echos and add these Blood Echos to their total score if the party defeats the Chalice Dungeon. Second, players can recollect any of their discarded action cards from previous rounds, including the "Hunter's Dream" card. Be aware; players can only have seven cards and can never abandon the "Hunter's Dream" card. Players also collect one available upgrade card and reset their health. Players who died in combat are revived and can obtain one upgrade card, though they are not able to recover their discarded equipment.
We now enter the "End of the Round" phase. As mentioned before, cards used to fight the previous monster are discarded until that player enters the "Hunter's Dream" phase and recollects them. Pass the first player token clockwise, and reveal the next monster. Repeat the previous steps, noting if a monster card has the "boss" moniker on it. If the standard Chalice Dungeon deck is complete, move to the Final Boss. If all Chalice Dungeon Cards, including the final boss, are defeated, the game is over. Count however many banked or collected Blood Echos you have and count them as one point. Next, combine this with however many trophies you have on your Hunter's Deck. Whoever has the highest total score is the winner.
Undoubtedly, Bloodborne: The Card game is not your "standard" cooperative card or board game. While it begins as a collective dungeon crawler; its competitive aspects inevitably lead to backstabbing and uneasy alliances. As such, it's crucial to note Bloodborne: The Card game is downright cruel. Several upgraded weapons not only inflict damage to both monsters but also to surrounding players. Likewise, every monster is capable of wiping your party out. Thus, it is safe to say you should NEVER play this game with total strangers! I tried it once, and it ruined my entire day because people pounced on the opportunity to be shitty.
Nonetheless, Bloodborne: The Card has several positive aspects worth mentioning. For one thing, you can finish the game in about thirty minutes, barring you avoid one of the final bosses. Furthermore, you never feel especially dejected, even after a team loss, as you can jump back into the game in a matter of minutes. Additionally, I LOVE the game's use of simultaneous play. There's no better feeling than playing a suit of cards and KO-ing a monster before it attacks. The card drafting element of the game is equally rewarding. I enjoyed having to plan which cards to use as my action and thinking strategically about which seven cards should be in my deck. Also, there's no denying the game's effective use of theme and the fact it leans into the video game's brutal reputation.
So why do I hate playing this game? The primary issue comes down to the "Hunter's Dream" mechanic. Usually, I'm okay with the idea of "banking" items or points as a mechanic. However, in the case of Bloodborne: The Card Game, you have to sacrifice an entire turn to perform this critical step. Consequently, with the game only taking up ten rounds, you end up "skipping" at least one-third of the combat to bank points. Worse, when you do enter the game's dream realm, you can set up unrecoverable death spirals. Especially when it comes to the boss encounters, dozens of battles require full cooperation between you and your party, and that is rarely possible with this mechanic.
To illustrate this issue, let me share a situation that happened during one of my play sessions. When it was time to reveal our action cards, three of my party members elected to go into the dream world. The problem was we were about to fight a boss, and bosses do not run away — meaning, one other player and I were condemned to die! Worse, this happened on the last card before the final boss; thus, our party only had three out of five players during the ultimate battle. This scenario sucks, and it happens ALL THE FUCKING TIME! To add insult to injury, players regain the ability to enter the dream realm immediately after leaving. There's no hard cap on how often you can go there, and the result is few, if any players, have any motivation to avoid entering the realm after one or two turns. Sure there are trophies, but they are harder to get and of equal value to banked Blood Echos according to the scoring system.
Speaking of which, the scoring system is a shitshow! Not only does it exacerbate the game's brutal nature, but it's poorly balanced. To highlight the latter of these problems, I'll again refer to another play session of mine. The group this time around was fighting one last monster before the final boss. Up to this point, one of my party members had been perpetually in the lead. To be specific, they had thirty-one points. The total value of the last two matches was twenty-six points, with the final boss representing HALF the value of their overall score after NINE ROUNDS OF PLAY! To no one's surprise, they lost by six points.
Another issue comes in the game's use of critical damage (i.e., exploding dice). Every enemy, even the goons you fight in the very beginning, have a 33% chance of inflicting critical damage as two sides on every die have a plus symbol. In a game where there are bosses who can reduce your maximum health or items that cause chip damage to the person next to you, that's way too high. Here I can at least partially understand Eric Lang's thought process. At some point, he learned the bosses in Bloodborne can wipe out your player character in a single cinematic attack. However, that concept can be mitigated as you learn the animations and attack patterns of the bosses. Here, the dice have two sides that automatically inflict critical damage, and there's nothing you can do about it.
Finally, let's address the final bosses in the game. There are five, and that's not nearly enough. One of these bosses, Mergo's Wet Nurse, is meant to be an introductory confrontation if there's someone in your party who has never played the game. Likewise, there are two bosses I outright refuse to play. One, Rom, The Vacuous Spider, permanently eliminates any players who die twice. This rule is shitty and should not be in any game, let alone a semi-cooperative game that requires multiple players to complete. The other boss who sucks is Micolash who adds a new non-boss monster to the deck whenever a monster manages to escape. Micolash may well be my least favorite boss as he entirely ruins the game's quick and frenetic pace. Also, by the late stages of the game, it is inevitable players will remove themselves from combat and enter the "Hunter's Dream" phase, making escaping enemies a guarantee. The result is dungeons drag on far longer than they should.
Part of me wants to give credit where credit is due. Eric Lang and his supporting cast at CMON Games have made a card game adaptation of Bloodborne which captures the spirit of the game perfectly. It's a dark and moody affair where everything is out to get you, including the people next to you. Likewise, the card game is perfectly paced and easy to jump into regardless of your experience with card or board games. The thirty-minute playtime is perfect, and most of the mechanics do not slow down the game's action-packed structure. Finally, the game's procedurally generated nature means it has a lot of replayability.
That said, I did not enjoy playing Bloodborne: The Card Game. Virtually each of its mechanics is designed to both frustrate and infuriate players. The cooperative elements mostly fall to the wayside, and you'll find yourself having to deal with an endless amount of backstabbing. On top of that, so much of the game stacks the deck against your favor; it's hard to think of an audience for this game. You can't play it with strangers as the game's innate meanness encourages people to act like shitheads. You will struggle to play it with veteran card and board gamers as the game's broken mechanics will immediately pull them out of the experience.
Before I end this mostly negative review, I do want to defend the game ever so slightly. Of the dozen or so play sessions I have taught this game, there has always been at least one person enamored by Bloodborne: The Card Game. Every time I play it, someone publicly says to me they plan to buy the game as soon as they can. Maybe, after reading this blog in its entirety, you are that person. If you think that may be you, have fun, and don't forget to pack an extra battleaxe.
Anyone who musters the courage to explore Steam's "Dating Sim" portal knows it is a bedrock for the worst "games" ever made. For years, gimmicky visual novels have inundated Steam with no signs of stopping. The unfortunate consequence is genuinely artistic visual novels are forced to compete against literal trash. The primary reason for this depressing situation is Steam's laissez-faire approach to game releases. With the current minimum requirements being nominal monetary fees, dozens of would-be game developers have come out of the woodwork. Most have gone on to release slap-dash fever dreams in hopes of pocketing a quick buck.
Nonetheless, Valve's blasé attitude doesn't explain the "explosion" of interest surrounding the visual novel genre. Part of this development is due to several well-respected games and franchises like Umineko or Steins;Gate coming out to the west. Regardless, none of this explains the proliferation of the more bizarre dating sims or visual novels on Steam. To illustrate, if one were to consult Steam's "Dating Sim" tab, you'd be presented with the ability to date astrological formations, World War II-era tanks, and every imaginable creature on Planet Earth. What could have originated this glut of insanity? To answer that question, we turn to a long-standing personal theory of mine: blame the internet scuttlebutt surrounding Hatoful Boyfriend.
Initially, visual novels were a gaming example of "inside baseball." Up until Hatoful Boyfriend's "memeification," the genre was, for the most part, enjoyed by dedicated consumers of Japanese anime and video games. Altogether, it was rare for non-anime fans to go out of their way to play visual novels, and editorial coverage of the genre, even by mainstream publications, was limited. Then, Hatoful Boyfriend happened, and as the game released during a time when Steam's recommendations were not wholly fucked, it shot up in popularity. The reason for this has to due with a handful of video game streamers playing the game and "enthusiastically" reacting to what they experienced.
What does any of this nonsense have to do with Hatoful Boyfriend's "secret ending?" Well, for one thing, the Western press's coverage of Hatoful Boyfriend has left out some essential aspects of this game. Even intellectuals like Danny O'Dwyer or this site's "Dating Game" feature have failed to explore the game's reason for existing. Likewise, few, if any, have taken the time to discover what the game's namesake even means. As a result, a myth has developed around Hatoful Boyfriend, and this is where I come in. Despite what everyone has told you, this game is NOT about silly anime nonsense and dating bishounen pigeon boys. Instead, Hatoful Boyfriend is the MOST hostile criticism of the visual novel genre you will ever experience. Seriously, it fires on all cylinders and DOES NOT STOP! So, without further ado, let's talk about the game's "Bad Boys Love" ending.
I'm going to be honest with you; following this blog is virtually impossible unless I provide a "character guide." Below you'll find a helpful list of every character in this blog.
Hiyoko Tosaka - Female human protagonist in the main game.
Ryouta Kawara - Rock dove/pigeon. Primary player character during the Bad Boys Love Ending. Gimmick: The boy next door that is obviously in love with the protagonist.
Sakuya Le Bel Shirogane - Fantail pigeon. The temporary protagonist of chapter five of the Bad Boys Love Ending. Gimmick: French elitist and casual racist.
Kazuaki Nanaki - Button quail. Your homeroom teacher and math tutor. Gimmick: Teacher who falls asleep in class and is terrible at their job.
Nageki Fujishiro - Mourning dove. Loves to hang out in the library, and no one notices him. Gimmick: Classic anime bookworm.
Yuuya Sakazaki - Fantail pigeon. Half-brother of Sakuya. Gimmick: French/European playboy and chauvinist.
Shuu Iwamine - Chukar partridge. Creepy doctor of the school. Gimmick: He's a creepy doctor that murders you in the main game.
Okosan - Fantail pigeon. President of the school's athletic club. Gimmick: A great athlete that is also dumb as bricks.
Anghel Higure - Luzon bleeding-heart dove. Member of the school's manga club. Gimmick: A complete Chuunibyou.
Class Zero: You Have No Idea What You've Signed Up For
Before we jump into the Bad Boys Love story arc, let's address how one acquires this ending. First, the player needs to romance a certain number of characters. If they wish to experience the game's epilogue, you have to complete every possible romance before attempting Hatoful Boyfriend's secret ending. Likewise, the first chapter of the "Bad Boys Love" ending starts the same as the standard game does. The game's usual female protagonist enters a school that is populated by pigeons, and she can, with your help, romance several of these avian pupils. Where things ducktail is when you reach mid-terms and, as you are about to attempt your exam, the protagonist slips into a narrated dream sequence. Here she recounts witnessing the BRUTAL MURDER of her parents!
[It's at this point you realize you are in for a long and wild ride.]
Our next real hint that something is up doesn't occur until the start of the second semester in September. Our female protagonist notices Ryouta is not in class when the final period ends. She enters the infirmary to see if he is recovering from an injury or illness. For those unaware, this is the "point of no return." Once you get past this scene, you are officially entering the Bad Boys Love ending, and there's no going back. The next day, we control the game from the perspective of Ryouta. To everyone's surprise, our female player character is absent. Accordingly, the characters "transform" into slightly modified versions of themselves.
To illustrate, Sakuya, the pompous fantail pigeon, becomes a rabid xenophobe and champions the rise of pigeons over the "vastly inferior" human race. When class continues, things get even weirder. Kazuaki, the math teacher, then commences a lecture that does not exist in the standard game which sets us down a long and dark rabbit hole. We discover, long ago, an off-shoot of the avian flu wiped out more than half of humanity. In a desperate attempt to stop the virus' spread, humankind attempted to reverse engineer it. Their efforts failed, and instead, the virus mutated the avian species, causing birds to achieve sentience. Unfortunately, this development means the avian flu has left humanity in shambles.
But what about Ryouta's human female compatriot? Well, Kazuaki asks Ryouta to pick up a box of teaching materials from the school's staff room. As he picks up the documents, he notices blood seeping from its corner. Shocked, he places it down and opens the lid. To his horror, he finds HIYOKO'S SEVERED HEAD! From this point forward, Hatoful Boyfriend, a game most dismiss as a silly anime-inspired dating game, ! For the next five hours, we begin a long and arduous quest to figure out who killed Hiyoko!
Class One: Are You Ready For This? I Don't Think You Are
Sakuya, hearing a commotion, enters the classroom and asks what is happening. Just as he sees the contents of the box, an alert blares declaring a state of emergency. Not knowing what to do next, the characters frantically run to the school's gymnasium. There we learn not only was Hiyoko murdered, but her body parts were spread all over the school's campus. Eventually, the school's principal, a character that does not exist in the regular game, announces there's been a natural disaster and for the students to remain calm. Suspecting something may be up, Ryouta announces he wishes to collect Hiyoko's body. Kazuaki does not stop him, and Sakuya insists he joins.
As Ryouta and Sakuya exit the gym, they discover a cement dome has enveloped the entire school. The two decide to continue into the classrooms and find the dozen or so boxes containing Hiyoko's body parts. When they encounter the box that previously contained her head, they discover it is empty. This event leads to the appearance of Yuuya, Sakuya's half-brother. He reveals Hiyoko's corpse is in the school's chemistry lab where a formal autopsy is taking place. The person conducting the autopsy is none other than the creepy doctor, Shuu Iwamine. Before going to the lab, Yuuya encourages us to meet the school's custodian, "Mr. One." It is here, once again, we enter a level, with an accompanying soundtrack mind you, that does not exist in the base game.
Mr. One encourages us to explore the headmaster's office to further our investigation. Before we can, Ryouta returns to the school's chemistry lab where the creepy doctor is conducting a thorough examination of Hiyoko's dismembered body. You know, something you'd expect to see in a high school for pigeons. With Doctor Shuu busy re-assembling Hiyoko's body, Ryouta turns to Kazuaki. Kazuaki assures Ryouta he will stay in the lab to prevent Shuu from engaging in foul play. Nonetheless, as we are about to leave, Shuu has a less than harmless aside with Ryouta. He taunts Ryouta about his investigation by sneering he's "missed something" and lets on he knows more about Hiyoko's death. With our business in the lab finished, we transition to the giant cement dome surrounding the school.
Unfortunately, the walls of the dome prove impenetrable. Thus, our unassuming duo attempts to find an emergency exit. They quickly locate a hatch at the top of the dome, but it appears to be locked. Hoping to learn more about the dome at the Headmaster's Office, the characters head off there but find it inaccessible. As the two prepare to break down the door, they encounter
Class Two: Then This Visual Novel Becomes Silent Hill
Luckily for our characters, the monster proves to be a slow clambering oaf. Nonetheless, a blood-thirsty abomination is roaming the school campus, hoping to murder any out-of-place students. Ryouta and Sakuya rush back to the chemistry lab to inform their teachers of the situation. Kazuaki, the math teacher, however, seems doubtful about the monster's existence. Afterward, the doctor announces the completion of their autopsy. Hiyoko died of asphyxiation, but without any signs of strangulation or drowning. Furthermore, Shuu states her body was dismembered AFTER her death and estimates Hiyoko died yesterday evening. As he says this, he conveniently conjures an alibi absolving him of being the primary suspect.
Admittedly confused, Ryouta and Sakuya leave to interview a handful of students in the gym. After butting heads about the possible guilt of the doctor, the would-be detectives end up encountering Okosan. Okosan testifies he did not see Hiyoko leaving school yesterday evening, but he did see a "blood-stained interloper." Okosan claims he saw the suspect entering the infirmary. The dynamic duo returns to the janitor's office and bumps into Yuuya once again. Yuuya claims to have encountered the scarecrow as well and states it appears to hover around the school's second floor.
As Yuuya leaves to help the teachers in the chemistry lab, Ryouta and Sakuya briefly interrogate him. Yuuya verifies the doctor's alibi and states he was with the doctor all day yesterday. Ryouta and Sakuya then prepare to return to the chemistry lab, but while in route, Ryouta suggests they check the library for any remaining students. They find nothing suspicious, but it is here we experience our first "dream sequence." This scene is "interesting" as it is told from the perspective of Nageki Fujishiro, the "normal" game's proverbial bookworm. With the screen completely black, Nageki asks if something horrible has happened at the school. For those who may have forgotten, Nageki was the rock-dove romance option. In the base game, his storyline reveals he's a ghost stuck wandering the school's campus.
We then abruptly transition to the chemistry lab where we collect the key to the headmaster's office. Yuuya assures he will watch over Shuu in Kazuaki's sted. With Kazuaki accompanying them, the two detectives enter the headmaster's office without issue. Unfortunately, as they open the door, they discover the headmaster dead. Doctor Shuu rushes to the office and announces the principal has died of poisoning, and his cause of death slightly mimics Hiyoko's. Worse, it seems he died meer hours before we entered his office.
Class Three: The Plot Thickens, And My Brain Continues To Suffer
Upon closer inspection, Shuu discovers the headmaster most likely died before his emergency announcement. Kazuaki agrees and finds the televised statement mirrors that of a pre-rehearsed video from the year prior. Not wanting to spread panic to the general student population, everyone agrees to keep the principal's death a secret. Hoping to find clues about what is going on, Ryouta and Sakuya search the office. Ryouta discovers a locked file cabinet as well as a command terminal. Ryouta and Sakuya rush to the janitor's office in hopes Mr. One can help them.
As Ryouta leaves the office, the sinister Doctor Shuu confronts him. Once again the doctor chastizes Ryouta for not hearing out his previous "hint" and teases him further by providing another. Shuu tells Ryouta this is a mystery that "does not require you to use your brain." As he leaves Ryouta to think, he surmises this mystery has been laid out for Ryouta to discover something about himself. Nonetheless, our characters return to Mr. One, and unfortunately, find the school's file cabinets explode if subjected to force. Mr. One believes he can still open the file, but it will take time.
When the subject turns to the command terminal on the headmaster's desk, he directs us to Yuuya. As we attempt to see if Yuuya is in the lab, the scarecrow monster appears and attempts to murder our party. Ryouta is separated from Sakuya but makes his way safely to the library. As he gets his bearings straight, he quickly encounters Nageki. After the two have an awkward introduction, Ryouta asks if Nageki saw Hiyoko yesterday. Nageki replies he did not. However, things take a weird turn when Nageki claims he knows of Hiyoko's death because he has seen her ghost. Before Ryouta can inquire for further details, Nageki disappears in a burst of light, leaving Ryouta in an unconscious state.
Eventually, Ryouta makes his way back to the chemistry lab and re-convenes with Yuuya and Sakuya. Yuuya agrees to hack the principal's command terminal, and the trio departs for his office. While there, they unlock the console with Kazuaki's blessings. Yuuya succeeds and hands things over to Ryouta. Though he worries about the risks of opening the hatch, he elects to unlock it in hopes of leading the school's students to safety. Ryouta, Sakuya, and Kazuaki leave to examine the roof of the dome and see clear blue skies outside. Immediately, two random students appear and attempt to fly out. However, as they go, an unknown force SHOOTS THEM TO DEATH! Their corpses fall back down to the school; riddled with bullets.
Class Four: This Is The Chapter Where The Game Becomes A JRPG
Demoralized to discover their only hope of escape results in instant death, our party attempts to recollect itself. Hoping to gain access to the school's "restricted files," they return to Mr. One. Fed up with Mr. One's mysterious musings, Sakuya demands to know Mr. One's identify, who happily obliges. Mr. One reveals he is none other than "Leone JB," the leader of the "Dove Party." If you recall, when you seek out Yuuya's romance route in the base game, you discover there are two political parties in the world of Hatoful Boyfriend. On the one hand, you have the Hawk Party which seeks to exterminate all forms of humanity. On the other hand, you have the Dove Party which seeks out peaceful co-existence.
Furthermore, Leone states he has unlocked the secret files from the headmaster's office. While reading over the records, we discover several surprising facts about the school and its enrollment of Hiyoko. St. Pigeonation's Institute sought out Hiyoko's admission due to her resistance to all forms of the avian flu. The school felt her graduation would help further the Dove Party's agenda, and even hoped her enrollment would result in cross-species romance. Unfortunately, the file reveals that should Hiyoko die, the school would surrender its students to humanity AS A BLOOD SACRIFICE! Sounds like a real "win-win." You kill a representative of humanity, and humans get to
To add insult to injury, we discover the dome will lift twelve hours after its deployment. Once this time elapses, the dome will "deliver" the school's inhabitants to humanity, and in turn, initiate a massacre. With just eight hours remaining, Ryouta and Sakuya continue their investigation in hopes of preventing the murder of the school's population. To help them in their quest, they travel to the school's library in hopes of learning more about its history. While perusing the school's encyclopedias, Nageki reappears. Nageki tells Ryouta what he's looking for can be found behind the receptionist's desk.
Sakuya then turns to Ryouta and shouts at him to cease babbling to himself. When Ryouta tries to explain he's talking to Nageki, Sakuya states they are the only ones in the library. Though Nageki denies being a hallucination, he does admit Ryouta is the first avian student to interact with him. Nageki then disappears, and Ryouta begins to question his sanity. Nonetheless, they find the books Nageki mentioned and learn a few essential facts about the school's history. For one thing, the school was founded in 2180, only eight years before the events of today. Furthermore, we find out a massive fire occurred at the school in 2183. To Ryouta's horror, he discovers one of the fire's victims was a student named "Nageki Fujishiro."
Shaken, Ryouta then turns his attention to Okosan's testimony about a "blood-stained bird" roaming the school's campus. Believing Yuuya might know more about this suspect, Sakuya and Ryouta return to the chemistry lab. Yuuya and the doctor rebuke suggestions of suspicious activity, and Ryouta endeavors to find the "medical center" mentioned in the encyclopedia. After a bit of brainstorming, they discover an abandoned portion of the school. Upon entering an old classroom, they encounter a cabinet titled "OPERATION HATOFUL." Inside, we find the same encyclopedias, but with with a notable missing copy. Things get even more confusing when they encounter a make-shift wall blocking what should be a flight of stairs to the hallway's basement.
Unfortunately for all involved, a horrifying sound occurs in the background. Fearing the scarecrow has tracked them down, Ryouta and Sakuya prepare to make a break for it. However, instead of a scarecrow, a small Luzon bleeding-heart dove named "Anghel Higure" stands in front of them. In case you don't know, Anghel is a parody of the "Chuunibyou" trope as well as a dig at Square-Enix. Anyway, Anghel calls Ryouta "the Undertaker," and the game suddenly becomes a JRPG where we fight Anghel in the form of a turn-based battle. After knocking out Anghel, he declares he is on a quest to "defeat the demon spores."
Ryouta and Sakuya drag Anghel back to Okosan who confirms him to be the suspect he mentioned earlier. Anghel admits he attempted to enter the school's infirmary but claims the room's overwhelming presence of "demon spores" prevented him from doing so. He also confirms seeing Hiyoko entering the school's infirmary but claims he did not see her leave. Thus, Ryouta realizes doctor Shuu and Yuuya have been lying about not encountering anyone entering the infirmary. The plot thickens, and unfortunately for all involved, we now have to tolerate Anghel babbling anime nonsense for the rest of the game.
Class Five: Its Time For Drama Ripped From A Daytime Soap-Opera!
Chapter five starts unlike any of the previous ones before it. Unlike the prior episodes, it begins with a flashback to Sakuya's childhood where his father attempts to install a sense of elitism into the young pigeon. There are also several dream sequences involving Yuuya which detail his relationship to Sakuya. Should you romance either, you discover the two are brothers, but Sakuya resents Yuuya and repeatedly refers to him as a "half-breed." Nevertheless, the game juxtaposes to the janitor's office. Here, Sakuya attempts to mount a defense for Doctor Shuu, while throwing his half-brother under the bus. Ryouta isn't having any of it and implores Sakuya to look at the facts and reach an objective conclusion.
Ryouta identifies the school's infirmary as the next place for their investigation. Sakuya agrees and offers to keep Doctor Shuu and Yuuya distracted so Ryouta can investigate the room unimpeded. As they are about to leave, the janitor provides Ryouta with a stun gun and master key. When Sakuya enters the chemistry lab, he finds Anghel declaring Shuu to be "the embodiment of evil." Unfortunately, Yuuya is absent. In an attempt to keep Shuu distracted, Sakuya reveals the doctor's medicinal research saved the life of his father and spends his time trying to get in the doctor's good graces.
The game returns to Ryouta in the infirmary as he attempts to locate clues. While rifling through the doctor's desk, he finds medical files for himself, Hiyoko, Sakuya, and Nageki. Just as he is about to read the entry on Nageki, something knocks him out from behind, and he finds the files missing when he awakes. However, he discovers Hiyoko's blood-stained ID card. When Ryouta returns to the chemistry lab, he finds Shuu lecturing on how someone could dismember a human corpse. Nonetheless, he assures everyone he could not possibly be the one who dismembered Hiyoko because he's partially paralyzed on his right side.
Our attention then turns to Yuuya, who appears to be assisting the doctor in his evil plots. Sakuya and Ryouta accuse Yuuya of covering for the doctor, but just as they seem to have the upper hand, the scarecrow reappears. Ryouta and Sakuya reconvene at the janitor's office. While Ryouta is busy collecting notes and gathering evidence, Sakuya stealthily leaves to confront the doctor and Yuuya alone. Until the chapter's conclusion, the rest of chapter five is told through Sakuya's perspective. Sakuya confronts Shuu and accuses him of being connected to Hiyoko's murder. Shuu once again asserts neither he nor Yuuya was the cause of Hiyoko's death. Nevertheless, Shuu does not deny being "involved" with her death.
Growing weary of Sakuya's interrogation, Shuu pulls out a knife and The screen goes black, but instead of a dead Sakuya, we see a bloody Yuuya with a knife sticking out of his side. Yuuya took the blow for his brother, and as he bleeds to death in Sakuya's arms, doctor Shuu summons the scarecrow. The doctor refers to the scarecrow as "Labor 9" and summons it to follow him to the school's restricted area. Attention then turns to Yuuya whose condition is getting worse. Now, I have to share a bit of a disclaimer. If you have reached this point of the blog and found the zany adventures in Hatoful Boyfriend hilarious, then you will enjoy the next three chapters. Shit is about to get "real" my friends, and it is glorious. Nonetheless, if you have any reservations about reading about murder, death, or acts of genocide; now may be the time to stop reading.
Yuuya confirms he and the doctor did not kill Hiyoko and that she was already dead when they arrived at the infirmary. However, Yuuya does admit to helping the doctor dismember Hiyoko's body. With his confession complete, Yuuya asks to be alone with Sakuya. During a private "heart to heart," Yuuya tells Sakuya about his "real" father. Before Sakuya was born, their current father killed Yuuya's father to wed their mother. Their father agreed to raise Yuuya, but only if their mother left behind the egg of an unborn child from Yuuya's biological father. Yuuya raised the egg in secret, and when his mother conceived a child with his step-father, he swapped the eggs. Additionally, in a fit of rage, Yuuya smashed the egg conceived from his step-father. As a result, Sakuya and Yuuya are actually full-brothers.
To clarify, Sakuya has spent his entire life believing his half-brother was a "mongrel" commoner and called him as such throughout the game. Likewise, he spends the vast majority of his time talking about "inheriting" his father's legacy. Now, he realizes all of his snobbish galavanting was fraudulent. Worse, his last "true" relative is now dead. Speaking of which, Yuuya warns Sakuya the doctor is the one who poisoned the headmaster, and unfortunately, Shuu applied the same poison on the blade in his chest. Yuuya then dies in the arms of his brother.
Class Six: Ghost Problems Part III
I'm going to level with you for a bit. The next two chapters are more or less self-contained character arcs that introduce supporting details to the main story. The consequence is they are far longer than any of the chapters preceding them. Nonetheless, the game's perspective reverts to Ryouta, who is trying to understand recent events at the janitor's office. Knowing the doctor has entered the hidden medical facility, Ryouta struggles to think of a way to follow him. He resolves to go to the library in hopes he can talk to Nageki. Ryouta leaves for the library by himself as Sakuya is still suffering from shock. Upon entering the library, Ryouta encounters Nageki as well as a
The flame disappears, and Nageki admits to knowing he is a ghost. However, Nageki still does not understand why he has only been able to communicate with Ryouta and Hiyoko. In hopes of aiding Ryouta's investigation, Nageki points him to an encyclopedia containing a treasure trove of files about "OPERATION HATOFUL." Ryouta discovers it was an experiment by the Hawk Party to weaponize the avian flu to kill humanity once and for all. A second file reveals Nageki once carried a highly contagious strain of the avian flu, known as the "Charon Virus." Nageki recalls whenever he encountered humans, they would always get incredibly sick. As he spent more time at the medical facility, he came to realize he "needed to disappear."
With these files on hand, Nageki remembers what caused the fire at the medical facility five years ago. During a flashback, he explains he grew up in a home for war orphans following the "Great Human-Bird War." Nageki enjoyed his time at the orphanage, but one day a human extremist group broke into the orphanage and held the children hostage. The extremists began killing the orphan chicks one by one, but when they reached Nageki, they all died of asphyxiation. After the "Heartful House Incident," Nageki accompanied one of the surviving orphans to college. However, Nageki experienced recurring health problems and viewed himself to be a burden. Then he received a letter from St. Pigeonation's Institute offering him an education with medical accommodations. Nageki signed up but eventually found himself becoming a test subject for the Hawk Party.
To Nageki's horror, scientists from the Hawk Party forced him under duress to kill an endless stream of humans. Contrary to what you may assume, Nageki harbors no ill-will to humanity and instead seeks peace. Hoping to end the senseless killings, Nageki burns down the medical facility. Suspecting agents from the Hawk Party would continue to track him down, Nageki decides to burn with the school. Back in the library, Nageki believes the reason he's a ghost is part of him still lives at the hidden medical facility. Furthermore, he fears the doctor may continue the Hawk Party's research on the Charon Virus. After helping Ryouta locate a map of the school, he bids him farewell. However, he promises to meet Ryouta soon, and next time, with Hiyoko.
Class Seven: Are You There God? It's Me, ZombiePie
With a map of the old school campus in hand, Ryouta heads out for the chemistry room in hopes of finding a hidden entrance. This time, however, Ryouta is joined by his math teacher, Kazuaki as well as the infernal Anghel. After a bit of sleuthing, the party quickly locates the entrance to the hidden basement which looks like a science fiction set pulled from a 1960's alien invasion movie. As they progress further into the cellar, Labor 9 attacks them. Luckily, they notice a nearby fire hose and spray the monster with water.
After dousing the scarecrow, Ryouta shocks the beast with his stun gun. As the trio marches on, the game transitions back to Sakuya mourning the death of his brother. After the childish Okosan gives Sakuya a heartwarming pep talk, they set out to try and catch up with Ryouta. Back at the school's lower depths, Anghel's ability to detect "demon spores" helps the party navigate the basement. Later, the group locates more files about the various students at St. Pigeonation's Institute. When they read over Anghel's record, which details his ability to create hallucinations, we discover every student at the school has some genetic "quirk." Though bewildered, they eventually locate the door to the final room in the underground laboratory.
As they enter the flame-scarred room, they quickly encounter Doctor Shuu. Again, Shuu reminds Ryouta he only mutilated Hiyoko and was not the immediate cause of her death. All the same, Shuu does confirm he was a researcher on "Operation Hatoful." He reviews how he's been working to secure a new host for the Charon Virus for years. He again eyes Ryouta and commends him for being an "exemplary student." After deploying a trap to separate Ryouta from the rest of his party, Shuu pries at Ryouta to think back to yesterday. Ryouta realizes Hiyoko did indeed go to the infirmary before returning home. Her reason for doing so was to tend to a sickly Ryouta; however, as she approached him, she suffocated to death.
The game transitions back to Doctor Shuu who confirms Hiyoko died due to the Charon Virus inside Ryouta. This virus makes Ryouta a biological weapon capable of killing humans within minutes. Then, in what I can only describe as one of the games most shocking moments, Shuu re-directs Ryouta to the scarecrow. Shuu lifts the burlap sack covering the monster's face and reveals A HUMAN BRAIN! And before you ask, yes, it is HIYKOKO'S BRAIN! As Shuu inspects Labor 9 further, he laments that Ryouta's attack may have resulted in irreversible brain damage. Yup,
You may be wondering why a scientist would go to such lengths to weaponize a virus and put a human's brain in the body of a robot. Well, rest assured my dear children, Hatoful Boyfriend has an answer for you. The game flashes back to the "Heartful House Incident," where Hiyoko's parents served as mediators but were murdered by the human extremists. Moments after the massacre, Hiyoko and Ryouta cross paths with an unusual stranger promising to grant them "any wish they desire." They collectively ask for a world where birds and humans no longer fight. As the mysterious stranger walks away, we find out he is none other than Shuu. When the game returns to the present, Shuu declares he's spent his entire life trying to make Ryouta's wish come true. Being a college-educated professor, he reached the conclusion peace is only possible following the extermination of humanity.
Horrified that he is the reason for Hiyoko's death, Ryouta loses the will to live and subjects himself to Shuu's "final experiment." We juxtapose back to Anghel and Kazuaki who are trapped and dying thanks to the doctor filling the room they are in with poisonous gas. Luckily, Okosan and Sakuya arrive and stop them from meeting an untimely demise. They rush forward only to find Ryouta under the influence of an evil force. THAT'S RIGHT; WE FIGHT "SHADOW RYOUTA!" Shuu explains he hopes to send Ryouta to the surface and eliminate all traces of humanity. We then engage Ryouta in a JRPG turn-based battle in an attempt to return him to his senses. When it seems we have failed, the ghost of Hiyoko appears and begs Ryouta to stop.
When Ryouta recovers, he asks the doctor to justify his actions. During YET ANOTHER FLASHBACK, we find Shuu developing a friendship with another researcher at the old science facility. We find out Shuu's real name is "Souma Isa," and the researcher he admired was none other than Ryouta's father. Unfortunately, Ryouta's father contracted an exotic disease during his research, and tragically died. His last words before passing were a request to Isa, now Shuu, to help his son should he ever encounter him. The game transitions back to the present and Shuu thanks Ryouta for allowing him to grant the wish of his only friend.
Class Eight: Then Hatoful Boyfriend Becomes Persona 6
After a bit of plot summary, Shuu admits defeat and calls an end to his plot. As he does, Mr. Leon returns with the school's entire student-body in tow. Shuu agrees to stand judgment for his crimes, but as he readies himself, Kazuaki PULLS OUT A GUN AND SHOOTS HIM! With his pistol aimed at the doctor's head, Kazuaki demands Shuu locate the remains of Nageki. Remember when Nageki mentioned he survived the "Heartful House Incident" with one other orphan? Well, that other orphan was none other than our sleepy math teacher, Kazuaki!
What ensues next is another flashback sequence where we learn more about Kazuaki and Nageki's life after the massacre at the orphanage. It is important to note, Kazuaki's real name is "Hitori Uzune," and he was born a different species of quail. No matter, in the years following the massacre, Nageki and Hitori/Kazuaki eeked out a living together. Unfortunately, Nageki's recurring medical issues continually put stress on their ability to enjoy life independently. Worse, any attempts to find out the cause of Nageki's illness failed. When St. Pigeonation's Institute invited Nageki to its state of the art medical facility, Hitori implored Nageki to accept the invitation. The author of this invitation was none other than Souma Isa (a.k.a. Doctor Shuu).
At first, things go well for Nageki at St. Pigeonation's Institute. Unfortunately, as time passes, Nageki's letters become scarce and distressing in content. In one such letter, Nageki assures he is "fine," which is a trigger to Hitori that things are not "fine." Hoping to learn more, Hitori goes to the school and upon entering its medical lab, finds it ablaze. As he ventures into the facility, he discovers Nageki who warns him he must "disappear." While the fire consumes Nageki, he begs Hitori to make sure nothing is left of his body. The game reverts to the present where Kazuaki claims to be able to hear Nageki's voice and asks where the doctor has hidden his remains. When Shuu claims he has transferred Nageki's remains into Ryouta, Kazuaki shoots the doctor twice.
When Kazuaki asks for clarification, Shuu states all that remained of Nageki following the fire was his liver. To seed the Charon Virus into Ryouta, Shuu surgically implanted the organ into him. After pointing a gun at Sakuya, Ryouta is forced into a room with just him and Kazuaki. Kazuaki pulls out a knife and motions at Ryouta's stomach. Nageki returns and takes control of Ryouta's body, and tries to reason with Kazuaki. While trying to convince Kazuaki to stop, we encounter "SHADOW NAGEKI!" What ensues next is a Persona-styled demon negotiation sequence. While controlling the specter of Nageki, you try to counter the shadow version of Nageki to prevent Kazuaki from killing Ryouta.
During this "battle," Nageki reminds Kazuaki that he only asked two things of him before he died. First, he asked him to destroy his remains. Second, he asked him to "live and be happy." This helpful reminder defeats Shadow Nageki, and Sakuya surrenders his weapons. As everyone prepares to return to the surface, Ryouta turns to the cryogenic chamber that once housed Nageki. Ryouta then collects the final remains of Hiyoko and readies himself for the chamber. Shuu reveals the Charon Virus has spread throughout Ryouta's body, and he is a walking biological weapon. He also mentions Hiyoko's brain is showing signs of life, but just barely. Citing his newfound friendship with Ryouta, Sakuya promises to one day find a cure for the Charon Virus as well as a way to revive Hiyoko. Ryouta walks into the chamber and hears the voice of Hiyoko. As they fall into a slumber, he pledges to tell Hiyoko all about the day.
BUT WAIT, THIS GAME ISN'T OVER! Because I had had the due diligence to collect every possible romance option in the game, I am "graced" with Hatoful Boyfriend's epilogue! In the first scene, we discover Yuuya is alive and well. It turns out Leone JB revived him with an antidote moments before leading the students in the gym to the medical facility. In the next scene, Sakuya finds Okosan and Anghel up to their usual nonsense. Okosan is on a quest to find pudding, and Anghel is screaming about demons out to bring the world's end.
When you think things couldn't possibly get any weirder, we find Kazuaki pushing Shuu in a wheelchair. Shuu seems to be less glum, and Kazuaki appears to assist him with his medical needs. After a bit of joshing around, Sakuya turns his attention to Shuu and asks to review some medical trials with him. After disclosing the tests were a "perfect success," Kazuaki declares "today is the day." The three re-enter the chamber housing Ryouta. Upon reaching the chamber, Sakuya excitedly asks Ryouta to wake up, reminding him he wouldn't "go back on his word."
And here we are! The handful of you courageous enough to read through this ridiculous quest are no-doubt confused. Some of you may still be trying to convince yourself it's a harmless game about dating birds. Well, I regret to inform you, you are living a lie. Hatoful Boyfriend isn't interested in telling you wacky stories about romancing an almost endless supply of anime tropes. Hatoful Boyfriend hates the fact you want that; it hates the fact you expect that; it hates the fact you want more of that. Hatoful Boyfriend hates you.
Hatoful Boyfriend has an almost Evangelion quality to it. It creates this saccharine world and tricks you into thinking it's just silly anime nonsense. Then, when you least expect it, it burns its shiny happy world to the ground all while mocking you. Hatoful Boyfriend chastizes you for thinking it's merely a dating sim. It reminds you its premise is patently ridiculous, and you were a fool to believe that is all it had to offer. It jabs a knife into your side and whispers you are living a lie and reminds you it is high time you wake up. And then it twists that knife as it descends further into madness.
Let's return to my comparison to Evangelion for a bit. Much like EVA, Hatoful Boyfriend gives you crazy anime bullshit and wants you to know it hates you for loving its crazy anime bullshit. From beginning to end, Hatoful Boyfriend's "secret ending" both dismantles audience entitlement and declares its very own genre trash. And it doesn't stop there. Throughout our nigh five-hour-long journey it fires broadsides at Atlus, Square-Enix, and anime tropes in general. And all of those memorable characters you enjoyed dating? You watch them survive miserable circumstances, one after another. Previously happy and charming characters are thrown into sad and depressing situations. Moreover, few, if any, get a happy ending.
That is not to say Hatoful Boyfriend's twist is perfect. Some have actively questioned Hatoful Boyfriend's structure, and I honestly do not have any counters to this criticism. It's ridiculous you have to go to such great lengths to discover the game's reason for being, let alone its namesake — nonetheless, credit to Hatoful Boyfriend for placing a Sword of Damocles over those who play it. Every romance option in the "normal" game suggests something is up with its world. Dating Shuu results in him murdering the player and pickling your brain in a jar. Any attempts to date Kazuaki fail as they end with him saying his heart is for another. Something is up in the world of Hatoful Boyfriend, but it's not until you play the Bad Boys Love ending when you discover what that may be.
Finally, let's address your role in this nightmarish blog. Now, I'm not going to try to wax poetic about Hatoful Boyfriend's developer, or the game's legacy. Nor will I lament the glut of visual novels copying Hatoful Boyfriend's premise, but with none of the game's upside. I'm not a wizened local man who can find a deeper meaning in things I don't entirely understand myself. What I can say is the caricature of Hatoful Boyfriend that has permeated on the internet, and even on this site, should stop. And hopefully, you'll join me from this point forward.
Author's Note: I would like to personally thank my close friend, Michael for taking a majority of the pictures in this blog. All pictures that are not watermarked with the EA or Cedar Fair logo are from him and his property.
Why Is There A 4D Mass Effect Ride?
Before we tackle the insanity that is "Mass Effect: New Earth," we must first discuss its host, the amusement park company, Cedar Fair. For those unaware, the amusement park industry is currently in the middle of a "Second Coaster War." In the late 1990s to early 2000s the quest to build the highest or fastest coaster dominated amusements park projects around the world. Now, parks are engaged in a tit for tat conflict in developing new thrilling experiences. Relative industry newcomers like Rocky Mountain Construction have changed the amusement park landscape entirely, whereas veterans like Intamin or Gerstlauer are consistently pushing the limits of traditional coaster design. One of the driving forces for new thrills has been the monolithic Cedar Fair which operates twelve amusement parks in the United States and Canada.
However, we are not going to discuss roller coasters in this blog. Instead, we are here to talk about Cedar Fair's long-forgotten attempt to acquire distinctive intellectual properties. Our story starts in 1993 when Kings Dominion installed the very first "Action Theater." To make a long story short, film studio Paramount had a family of amusement parks intended to compete against the likes of Disney, Universal, Six Flags, and SeaWorld. Upon the split of its parent company, Viacom, in 2006, the Paramount Parks were sold to Cedar Fair. After the first Action Theater proved successful, all of Paramount's amusement parks installed similar attractions. These theaters were motion simulators which, at the time, played a yearly rotation of blockbuster films from Paramount.
Upon Cedar Fair's purchase of Paramount Parks, several rides required immediate re-theming for licensing reasons. Surprisingly, the Action Theaters at California's Great America, Canada's Wonderland, Carowinds, Kings Dominion, and Kings Island were not immediately demolished. Though, in 2013, Kings Island would remove its theater to make way for its "Urgent Scare" Halloween Haunt. At first, Cedar Fair bought pre-existing 3D movies from other companies to keep these theaters operating. For example, there was an awkward period when "The Funtastic World of Hanna-Barbera," previously a 4D movie at Universal Studios Orlando, was playing at all locations. Around 2013 each theater was re-themed to play one of four possible films with the majority being about dinosaurs.
Nonetheless, each of these themes was intended to be temporary as Cedar Fair explored more permanent solutions. In comes their partnership with EA! The first result of this collaboration occurred at Carowinds, which re-themed its Action Theater to the Plants vs. Zombies franchise. Here, riders take a seat in a themed arena and use a turret to shoot at enemies on a 3D projection screen. Coincidentally, around the time Cedar Fair was working with EA, it was also partnering up with the well-known motion simulator company, TrioTech. As a result of both collaborations, Cedar Fair declared a new initiative that would impact several of its parks.
But Wait, Why Does Mass Effect: New Earth Exist?
Upon partnering with TrioTech, Cedar Fair announced each of their parks would have at least one dark ride. As part of this new agenda, Canada's Wonderland received "Wonder Mountain's Guardian," and Knott's Berry Farm got "Voyage to the Iron Reef." And inevitably, that leads us to the Action Theater at California's Great America. Wanting to test a more "traditional" 4D experience, Cedar Fair contracted EA and 3D Live, a holographic filmmaking studio. Thus began a year-long collaboration between California's Great America, 3D Live, and BioWare. Until the project's completion, BioWare representatives were included on weekly calls to discuss the ride's story, animation, and artwork.
It is worth noting each of these rides, especially Mass Effect: New Earth, showcased an entirely different interpretation of an amusement park "dark ride." Wonder Mountain's Guardian is a roller coaster hybrid that also has a shooting gallery element. Voyage to the Iron Reef is an interactive dark ride where riders travel on a track and shoot at screens to gain points. Mass Effect: New Earth, on the other hand, is a traditional 4D movie where a real actor comments over a two and a half minute film. As such, it is safe to say Cedar Fair was testing four different types of dark rides and seeing which worked the best. However, their dark ride initiative was doomed from the start.
First, a handful of parks demolished their Action Theaters to make way for more popular attractions. Additionally, many have come to rely on the abandoned theaters when hosting Cedar's "Halloween Haunt." Finally, there's no sign of further research and development for the current "test" attractions. For example, Mass Effect: New Earth has been operating for over three years with the same theme and script. The TrioTech model hasn't fared any better. The experiments at Knott's Berry Farm and Canada's Wonderland have met a mixed reception from amusement park enthusiasts. It is worth noting Cedar Fair has an inconsistent record when it comes to theming. The company also has a notorious history of only partially following through on its promises before moving onto a different corporate agenda. As such, park managers did not enthusiastically sign up for new dark rides when this initiative was announced.
Furthermore, you may have noticed I have not shared concrete dates while discussing Mass Effect: New Earth. There is a reason for this omission. As I will detail shortly, Mass Effect: New Earth bridges the gap between Mass Effect 2 and 3. At the ride's queue, you'll find props and posters showcasing iconic moments from Mass Effect 2. Regardless, and here's where things get weird, Mass Effect 2 released in 2010, and Mass Effect 3, released in 2012. That is FOUR YEARS after the release of Mass Effect 3 and one year BEFORE the launch of Mass Effect: Andromeda. To say this holographic 4D motion simulator missed its window is an understatement.
The Ride Experience
First, let's address the placement of Mass Effect: New Earth. Upon entering the gates of California's Great America, you'll find the ride nestled in the park's upper half. Hilariously enough, this means the attraction is right across from the park's kid-friendly "Planet Snoopy" zone. As you approach the theater, you'll notice two things. One, it is a massive structure Mass Effect: New Earth is only partially using. The abandoned portions of the building are cordoned off using a banner enticing you to explore "Terra Nova," thus identifying where this ride takes place. Second, as you get closer to the queue, you'll quickly identify a few "interesting" props.
Earlier I mentioned this ride "transports" you to the planet of Terra Nova. There are two things to note about this location and how it relates to Mass Effect's in-game canon. One, your only prior exposure to Terra Nova is if you played the "Bring Down the Sky" DLC for Mass Effect 1. In fact, in some odd way, this ride is a direct sequel to that DLC. To illustrate, at the ride's entrance, there's a memorial plaque to those who "sacrificed their lives" to help Commander Sheppard stop Batarians from destroying Terra Nova. The second important thing to note is Terra Nova's relation to Mass Effect 3. In Mass Effect 3, Terra Nova is abandoned by the Alliance's Sixth Fleet upon the start of the Reaper's invasion of the Milky Way Galaxy. So, you could say I was a little miffed to see . There are two sets of N7 armor, one male and the other female, and they are carbon copies of the ones you saw at GameStop when Mass Effect 2 first released!
Furthermore, it is vital to note, Mass Effect: New Earth is a "theatrical" motion simulator. Before boarding the ride, an attendant hands you a pair of passive 3D glasses. Moments before the ride starts, a funny safety video plays. While easily ignorable, this video conveys some essential context related to New Earth's story. During the film, we discover we are tourists about to be whisked away to a tropical resort on Terra Nova. As a representative from the travel agency begins talking about time-shares, the feed cuts out. A reporter from the "Alliance News Network," cautions that Terra Nova's defense fleet is reporting "unusual activity" near their Mass Relay. With loud blaster sounds in the background, the reporter screams that something is invading the planet. As they are about to tell us what the invaders may be, the feed abruptly ends, and the doors to the theater open. It is at this point, a real person dressed in an Alliance uniform, loudly greets you to enter the room and
Alright, I bet that last sentence got you by surprise. So, let's talk about what differentiates Mass Effect: New Earth from other dark rides. For the Plants Vs. Zombies version of this attraction you use a gun to shoot highlighted objects on a 3D projection screen. In Mass Effect: New Earth there's no player interaction outside of anything you say to the actor. As the film plays, this actor provides commentary and moves around to mimic the audience's 4D seats. Worth noting, there's a non-themed security guard present during the entire ride. Their job is to guarantee you are not a dick to the actor. Speaking of which, if you end up riding this, DON'T BE A DICK!
As you take your place in the theater, you'll notice a few things. First, the chairs are incredibly similar to the ones used in everyday 4D theaters. The seats jostle you around and spray water during various portions of the film. When everyone takes their positions, the movie begins. "Conrad Verner" welcomes us to "Mass Relay Getaways," the go-to place to experience a relaxing vacation in Alliance space. After a handful of theme park related jokes, Verner pilots our spacecraft to the nearest Mass Relay, which leads to several references to the Mass Effect games. As our shuttle makes its way to the relay, we conveniently pass by the Normandy, which, for whatever reason, is being captained by Garrus. After Garrus tells off Conrad, we enter the relay. Unfortunately, our actor prematurely ejects us out of warp and drop us in the middle of an asteroid belt.
A collision causes our ship to careen out of control and into the atmosphere of Terra Nova. Luckily, the ship's virtual intelligence assumes emergency control and pilots the spacecraft to a resort. As the actor drones about the beautiful amenities at Terra Nova, a Reaper appears and begins blowing everything up. An explosion flings our ship into a canyon, causing a swarm of insects to fly out. After the vessel reboots, Conrad discovers Wrex piloting the Mako. For whatever reason, it appears Wrex isn't busy leading the Krogans and is instead the field commander of the Normandy. Wrex somehow hacks into our space dingy and assumes control over the ship. The screen then swoops to the Reaper as our ship shoots at its enormous red eye. The Reaper then blasts out a beam of energy, causing us to crash directly into its maw. With no other option left, Conrad orders all available weapons to unload into the Reaper's eye. Following this flurry, the Reaper explodes, and we are victorious. The film promptly ends, and the actor motions to the ride's exit.
So... How's The Ride Holding Up?
For one thing, the ride doesn't even open until one hour after Great America's "rope drop." Second, if the park does not hit a minimum capacity quota, the park's management will close down the ride to save money on operating costs. Finally, the attraction is proving to be an incredibly hard sell to the park's "general public." As such, the park's management only uses two rows in the theater when it has a total of four. Sadly, the ride's struggles to appeal to non-gamers was to be expected. For one thing, I think we can all agree Mass Effect isn't the first video game that comes to mind when designing an amusement park ride. While many consider Mass Effect 2 a "game of the generation," the franchise itself is currently in video game purgatory. Likewise, as someone who has ridden Mass Effect: New Earth more than once, I cannot begin to list how often I overhear adults asking their kids "what's Mass Effect?"
To add insult to injury, Mass Effect: New Earth is downright frustrating for anyone with even the slightest bit of nostalgia for the video games. Look, I get amusement parks should be afforded some creative freedom when tackling intellectual properties. Additionally, I understand the expectation is to "turn your brain off" when you ride most theme park attractions. To illustrate, Universal's "Harry Potter and the Escape from Gringotts" makes no narrative sense, but it's my favorite ride in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Amusement park rides don't need to make canonical sense to provide riveting experiences. What drives me bonkers about Mass Effect: New Earth is how it brazenly grafts Mass Effect onto OG Star Tours! Seriously, this ride may be the most creatively bankrupt thing I have ever seen in a chain amusement park.
Think I'm joking? Let's run down New Earth's rap sheet so we can lock it up in theme park jail! Both attractions start with the doors of a shuttle bay opening and a pilot clumsily guiding riders into space. Both attractions feature an early moment where the pilot pulls you out of warp and into a debris field. Both attractions feature scenes where you fly by iconic characters. Both attractions have iconic characters telling your ship to buzz off. Both attractions showcase the defeat of an enemy that shouldn't be possible. Both attractions feature an enthusiastic pilot taking credit for defeating an enemy when they shouldn't. Beat by beat; this is, without a shadow of a doubt, a slap-dash carbon copy of Star Tours!
Furthermore, and I cannot preface this point enough, this ride missed its window by It takes place during the original Mass Effect trilogy, but OPENED IN 2016! Seriously, who, in 2016, is going to California's Great America to watch a "best hits" compilation of Mass Effect 2 and 3? WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?! Admittedly, had the ride been themed to coincide with the release of Mass Effect: Andromeda, it would have been an even more hilarious disaster.
In an alternate universe, where Andromeda wasn't a dumpster fire, I can imagine Cedar Fair updating this ride to coincide with different releases in the Mass Effect series. As it stands, the attraction has remained entirely unchanged since its launch in 2016. As someone whose "home park" is California's Great America, I can note only one change about its script in its three years of operation. Ever so slightly, the actors are starting to throw in some camp to the standard plot. It's not nearly as deliberate as Disney's Jungle Cruise, but in my last visit, the actor made a few references to ride's neglected state.
Accordingly, let's return to Cedar Fair's original dark ride expansion plans. To put it bluntly, they've done jack shit since 2016. To their defense, the reasons for their inaction are relatively obvious. Wonder Mountain's Guardian at Canada's Wonderland cost the company $10 million and has a significant footprint most parks cannot handle. Additionally, the re-theming of the Action Theaters has proven problematic as they have become coveted space for several "Halloween Haunt" events. That is not to suggest the company is blameless. In fact, their harebrained dark ride agenda is an emblem of how inconsistent their management has been in recent years. Cedar Fair is by far one of the most frustrating amusement park chains to follow. Part of what makes them so annoying is they play "favorites" with their properties. On the one hand, Kings Dominion and Cedar Point are always exploring expensive park renovations or new rides additions. On the other hand, Michigan's Adventure or World's of Fun are fortunate if they can get a new set of trash cans.
But what about those TrioTech rides I mentioned earlier? During a recent road trip, I managed to ride a few, including the one at Knott's Berry Farm. Honestly, I have to say I actively dislike them. I didn't enjoy the how obvious it was I was playing a video game. The graphics are decent, but the transitions between the screens kill the experience. There's virtually no theming between the screens, and there's next to no feedback when shooting targets. At least with Boo Blasters, you have physical targets which visibly respond when you shoot them. That is not the case with any of TrioTech's dark rides, which in my opinion, results in a ho-hum experience.
But what about Mass Effect: New Earth? As it stands, it is an amusement park oddity that is bound to become a future episode of "Defunctland." It, much like the video game franchise it is based on, sits in limbo. Parts of Mass Effect: New Earth are certainly appealing on paper. Unfortunately, Cedar Fair's frugality ruined the ride's chance from the very beginning. At no point does it attempt to paint a story the general public or die-hard Mass Effect fans benefit from watching. That said, I'm dreading the ride's eventual replacement. What I have seen of .
Before I jump into the proper blog, I want to discuss why this Final Fantasy series has been perpetually on hiatus. Unfortunately for all involved, my ability to write long-form blogs is decreasing as time marches on. That aside, personal issues have reared their ugly head in the middle of a series before. Thus, I do not want any of you to fret about my well-being. However, it is worth mentioning Final Fantasy XII has induced some of the worst writer's block I have ever experienced. Maybe it's the game's grind-heavy nature or possibly my general struggles to discuss game mechanics in written words. Perhaps its the story's lack of a compelling protagonist. Or, it could be the game's soul-crushing length, which has, on several occasions, sapped my lifeforce away.
Regardless, when we last met, Ashe made a pact with Larsa to attend a conference with a religious leader at Mt. Bur-Omisace. What occurs next is a relaxing set piece where the characters are permitted some "breathing room." One recurring issue with Final Fantasy XII is its nonsensical pacing. Either the game is spewing mountains of text during twenty-minute cutscenes, or you are wallowing away in open-world dungeons. As such, I have come to enjoy the "quieter" moments in Final Fantasy XII, where the characters act like genuine people. At any rate, before the characters set off on their treck, they pair up and converse with one another.
Moments like these might sound minor, but to me, they do more to frame the characters than the actual story. In a prior scene, we witness Ashe showing a more vulnerable side she has not previously surfaced. In this quick one-off moment, she pairs up with Vaan and states her concerns about following Larsa. Similarly, Basch and Balthier play off each other, and it's refreshing to see a more humorous side to Basch. Role-playing games need moments like these. Without them, it becomes difficult to see the world from the perspective of the characters.
What I find especially curious is these moments only occur at the entrances and exits of new environments. For instance, when you first enter a new level, you'll likely have to listen to one of the characters drone about where you are and the task at hand. After this ho-hum introduction, two characters will stay behind as the rest of the party moves forward. The party members that pair up then proceed to converse with one another about the direction of their adventure. Don't get me wrong; I enjoy these character moments! Above all, I find them more compelling than large swaths of the main story. Nonetheless, these interpersonal relationships develop via a tired and true format.
Regardless, before we set off for the Ozmone Plain, Basch confronts Balthier and asks him about his loyalty. Balthier brushes Basch's concerns aside, and the party sets off for their adventure. Regrettably, this conversation is all we have in terms of storytelling for the better part of an HOUR! Until we enter a new portion of the Ozmone Plain, we only have a partial idea of where Larsa wants to take the party. The rest of the characters are left in the dark and look like they are joining this journey because they have nothing else better to do. Worse, Penelo, Fran, and Vaan continue to have little to no characterization that connects them to the underlying themes of the story.
Part 32: Why Are The Judges More Compelling Than The Main Characters?
I don't think I have detailed the "canonical" reason why we have to travel long distances on foot in Final Fantasy XII. As Balthier explains it, airships use a device called a "Skystone" to operate. However, there exist regions in Ivalice where an excess of "mist" prevents these stones from running. These regions are called "Jagds," and are lawless wastelands where few bother to explore. I understand jagds are an essential concept from Final Fantasy Tactics, and their use here is more than appropriate. What I am less enthused by is the fact I had to read the game's codex to explain how Mist operates. Final Fantasy is a franchise known for not leaving a single stone unturned when managing its worldbuilding. So, color me surprised when I found a crucial part of Ivalice pushed to the periphery.
It is worth mentioning Larsa is a "guest" in our team, and his addition exponentially improves your ability to play the game. Why the game does not allow you to fill that guest position, after he leaves, with an unused party member is beyond my comprehension. No matter, after toiling away at the Ozmone Plains, Ashe and company locate the entrance to the Golmore Jungle. Ashe again confides her concerns about working with Larsa, but this time to Basch. As with before, it's a well-done character moment, albeit a short one. We see Basch is confident Larsa means well. Although he has lost everything to the Empire, Basch finds Larsa's inclusion encouraging. As he states, a world where all humans can live peacefully together is worth protecting.
What continues to surprise me about Final Fantasy XII is how it paints its characters in shades of grey. I am not going to suggest Square-Enix is entirely successful in creating morally ambiguous characters. Nonetheless, it is exhilarating to play a Final Fantasy game where the characters feel diverse in their perspectives and exist side-by-side without judgment. Ashe HATES the Empire, and we empathize with her viewpoint. She's not wrong for hating a nation that killed her husband, and violently devastated her homeland. That said, Bash and Vaan are not "wrong" for assuming the best of Larsa. They too are victims of the Empire's "big stick" diplomacy, but their willingness to forgive differentiates them from Ashe.
I have said it before, and I will repeat it once more: the Judges are the best characters in Final Fantasy XII. The political intrigue of the Archadian Empire provides the most gripping moments in the story. Watching the judges wrestle between their duty and what is morally right, far outstrips anything accomplished with Fran, Penelo, or Vaan. I would go so far as to suggest the character arc for Gabranth even exceeds that of Balthier or Basch. What makes the difference is how some of the judges debate the necessity of Vayne's brutality with their duty to protect him. These moments are not just exhilarating in their own right; they do a lot to frame the Judges as real characters. For example, Judge Drace is only in the game for about twenty minutes, but I found her to be the most sympathetic and tragic figure in the game!
In this particular cutaway, which is only around ten minutes long, we discover the judges are starting to fracture between two camps. There are those who support Vayne and his brutal conquest of new lands, and those who would rather see Larsa become the leader of the Empire. If there is one issue, I would have preferred if Vayne's supporters weren't a bunch of comically evil super soldiers. Nonetheless, I'll give credit where credit is due and reverse my previous sentiments about Vayne. It is rejuvenating to see a Final Fantasy villain with clearly defined goals from beginning to end. Vayne wants to be the king of Archadia and is willing to do whatever is necessary to make that happen. Furthermore, at no point is an outside force playing him like a fiddle. Vayne is a motivated dictator with visions of grandeur and at no point do you struggle to understand his end-goal.
Now, I want to return to my previous comments about the Judges. Imagine if we played the game from the perspective of one of the judges. What if the main character was Gabranth instead of Vaan? How much better would the story be if it were about the two factions of judges jockeying for control? What if, as you carry out Vayne's orders, you come to realize the human toll of those orders and have to decide on what to do next? Do you remain committed to your sworn duty to act as the protector of the Empire, or do you listen to your heart and end the suffering caused by Vayne? In my opinion, this premise blows anything the game does with Vaan out of the fucking water.
Part 33: Fran's Homecoming
While I spend a great deal of these blogs levying criticism at Vaan, I would be hard-pressed to call him a "total failure." While the vast majority of his quips are groan-inducing, he serves a purpose in adding levity to the story. Furthermore, he plays a critical role as the player's cipher. Where the game runs into issues is when it insists on reminding the player Vaan is the protagonist when everyone, including the story itself, knows this is not the case. Fran, on the other hand, is a total failure as a character, and the same goes for Penelo. From top to bottom, both characters serve virtually no role outside of evening out your job slots. Worse, in the case of Fran, the characterization the game attempts is dead on arrival.
I am, of course, dancing around the significant issue of Fran's people, the Viera. First and foremost, the character design for the Viera is the worst. THE. WORST. I am aware there was a recent kerfuffle regarding the Viera's use in Final Fantasy XIV. While I have yet to play Final Fantasy XIV, I can safely say its depiction of the Viera surpasses that of Final Fantasy XII. As a reminder, upon entering Eruyt Village, you find an all-female society of bikini-clad bunny people. After a bit of research, we discover the Viera segregate their communities wherein males and females live in different locations to prevent unnecessary societal strife. That may sound interesting on paper, but the execution of the Viera is beyond problematic. As a result of the Viera's segregated society, your only exposure to them is their scantily clad women. It's as if you enter an alternate reality where Hugh Hefner is the mayor of an actual city, and it's as repulsive as you could imagine.
Before any of you swoop in to defend the Viera, let's make something abundantly clear. I understand the Viera are meant to be a nature-loving culture that does not need material riches. While it's a character trope ripped from Square-Enix's playbook, there's nothing wrong with including a community which refuses to interact with the rest of the world. Unfortunately, we are talking about Square-Enix, and that means they put little effort into contextualizing the Viera as genuine people. Instead, the use of the Viera feels exploitative. Every time I entered Eruyt Village, I thought I was visiting Final Fantasy XII's version of the Playboy Mansion. It's as if the game wanted to impress me with a pornographic parade of pixelated female figures. As such, your time at Eruyt Village represents, far and away, the lowest point in all of Final Fantasy XII.
To add insult to injury, what we learn about Fran isn't particularly compelling. As I mentioned before, a character being split between freedom and tradition is a tired and true trope. That is to say: the Final Fantasy franchise has used Fran's character arc before, and better. What I find especially insulting is how barebones Fran's evolution ends up feeling. When we encounter Fran's older sister, Jote, we discover Fran left her village fifty years ago. By leaving the woods, Fran was excommunicated and is essentially a social pariah. What does any of this information have to do with the main story? Well, it appears a charm blocking our path is connected with Fran's inability to "communicate with the Woods." At no point does Fran detail the impact her excommunication has had on her.
Things take a curious turn when Jote reveals that Fran's younger sister, Mjrn, has left the village. Even though it is not explicitly stated, we assume the Viera will remove the charm if we recover Mjrn. As the characters set off to investigate Mjrn's disappearance, Vaan asks Fran about her age. The moment is as cringe-worthy as you can imagine, and I LOVED every minute of it! First, it was hilarious to see Vaan speak with little to no social skills. It's one of the few times when Vaan legitimately feels like a teenager, and thus, I think the scene fits his character perfectly. Second, I was howling in laughter when everyone gave him shit. Honestly, I wish there were more examples of party members telling Vaan off. I know it's not a great look for a games "protagonist," but doing so would at least make Vaan's lines more palatable.
What I am less enthused by is the amount of backtracking during this segment of the game. First, you enter the Eruyt Village after crossing the Ozmone Plains and encounter a forcefield at the Golmore Jungle. After your brief conversation with Jote, you exit the village to make a significant journey to an unexplored sector of the Ozmone Plain. Not only that, but you can only enter this area by using a Chocobo. To make matters worse, for some fucking reason, riding a Chocobo is timed in Final Fantasy XII! You heard that right; you can only use Chocobos for a finite amount of time! Then there's the Golmore Jungle with its monotonous threads of black and green vegetation. The repetitious level design there makes tracing your steps back to the Viera village no laughing matter.
Part 34: Let's Talk About The Henne Mines And The Infinite Slime Exploit
The Henne Mines provide me with an interesting case study on why I am struggling to maintain my interest in Final Fantasy XII. The level itself might seem as innocuous as the previous dungeons. However, something about this specific level got under my skin. The Henne Mines are, like most of Final Fantasy XII's dungeons, unnecessarily vast. The environment contains eight distinct sections, and the level is a nightmare to parse out when you first enter it. Worth noting, Final Fantasy XII doesn't make the process of acquiring location maps a complicated process. Additionally, I appreciate the game visibly marking points of interest. Be that as it may, these environments are a total bore.
I have harped enough about my dislike of Final Fantasy XII's overreliance on MMORPG loot-grind mechanics. Therefore, let's address a different groan-inducing aspect of the game's design, its environmental puzzles. Honestly, the Final Fantasy franchise has a long and storied history of bad puzzle design. Since the series' foray into the third dimension, Square-Enix hasn't had an excellent track record with environmental puzzles. The Temple of the Ancients in Final Fantasy VII and Cloisters in Final Fantasy X immediately come to mind. What complicates things in Final Fantasy XII is the levels are so enormous you lose sight of what the game demands of you.
In the case of the Henne Mines, there are only three switches to flip to progress to the final boss. However, the game stretches this straightforward concept for two hours. To illustrate, in-between the final two switches, you navigate FOUR whole sub-levels! By the time I reached the last lever, I had forgotten what I had needed to use the switches for in the first place! And Lord have mercy on your soul if you chose to play this level without the fast-forward feature! If you fail to do so, the two times when you fight swarms of slimes slows the game to a crawl.
Okay, I admit to taking advantage of the infinite Slime exploit at the Henne Mines. There are two principal reasons for this decision. First, my previous avoidance in grinding was beginning to catch up to me, and this exploit presented a quick solution. Second, playing around with this exploit may have been the most fun I had with Final Fantasy XII. To my first point, Square-Enix almost goads you into finding "easy outs" when you reach a snag. There's no more frustrating a feeling than going up against a boss and discovering you lack the gambits or licenses to beat it. Exploits such as these are a godsend as they make grinding and leveling a breeze. On top of that, if you have the Zodiac Edition and use the "fast-forward" feature, you'll find yourself getting some outrageous combos.
Hilariously enough, this is around the time when I started to get the appeal of the Gambit and License Systems. Watching my characters murder globs of slimes always put a smile on my face. Likewise, I came to enjoy playing around with my various character class combinations to try and find the most efficient manner in which I could commit slime genocide. I also have to say the combo system is an underrated feature. When you reach more massive combos, the game starts to restore your health and magic points automatically. This feature made it even easier to get into a "rhythm" while testing out the game's core mechanics. Speaking of which, I feel I learned more about "playing" Final Fantasy XII through this exploit than the actual in-game tutorials.
Unfortunately, it's not all "rainbows and unicorns" in the Henne Mines. The level, much like every dungeon before it, culminates in an "empty" boss battle. In fact, the fight against Tiamat is almost as frustrating as the level itself. For one thing, to watch Tiamat, a legendary summon in the franchise, boil down to a one-off boss encounter, sucks. I get the Demon Walls in the Tomb of King Raithwall are frustrating, but at least they feel like organic encounters. Here, Tiamat appears out of the ether, and nothing in the environment suggests Tiamat's looming presence.
Part 35: This Game Only Remembers It Has A Story During Ten Minute Cutscenes
When you wrap up your fight against Tiamat, you witness the "stunning" conclusion of Fran's character arc. Fran's sister, Mjrn, is seen standing near our party when an almost Grim Reaper-like figure looms behind her. As she lumbers towards the party, the ominous figure disappears, and she collapses at Fran's feet. After relocating to a den in the mines, the characters mull over recent events. Mjrn explains researchers from Draklor Laboratory attempted to inject Mist into her body. As Viera have a natural intolerance to Mist, she went into a rage-like state and accidentally summoned Tiamat.
I have mentioned before how I think Final Fantasy XII's narrative has structural issues. For instance, the only "real" storytelling occurs during cutscenes which exist exclusively before and after finishing a level. In this case, once Larsa hears Mjrn mention "Mist" and "Draklor Laboratory," he pieces together what connects the two. Larsa states the researchers at the Henne Mines were playing around with manufactured nethicite. He also snatches away a shard he gave to Penelo as a gift, which in NO WAY will tie into events later in the story. Quick question, if "manufactured nethicite" has Mist, why hasn't Penelo's "good luck charm" been causing Fran to go berserk?
Around this point in the story, I feel the writers bite off more than they can chew. For example, at the Henne Mines, we don't just contend with Fran's character arc. We also have to deal with the introduction of Draklor Laboratory and its relation to Balthier. Second, there's the mysterious specter that loomed over Mjrn. Later, we watch over two juxtapositions to the Judges and learn more about Larsa's upbringing. All the while, Ashe, Basch, Vaan, and Penelo provide interjects about their impressions of our journey thus far. At no point does one individual character get the opportunity to stand on their laurels. Instead, the story begins to become a muddled mess of one-off character vignettes.
When Fran returns to the Eruyt Village, with Mjrn in tow, she encounters Jote. Mjrn immediately confronts Jote and asks her to end the Viera's isolationism. Citing the massive changes shaping the landscape of Ivalice, Mjrn asks to leave to protect the world from further harm. Additionally, Mjrn states that she wishes to live a life free from the confines of the Eruyt Village. Now, you might expect Fran to be a "good" sister and support Mjrn. Instead, Fran, for whatever reason, sides with Jote and tells Mjrn to shut up and stay at the village.
I have no idea what to make of Fran. At first, I thought the game was presenting her as an empowering "alternate" to the unflinchingly static nature of Viera society. Fran rejected the isolationist view of the Viera and pursued a destiny of her own. However, when her sister asks to blaze a similar trail, Fran promptly shuts her down. Part of the appeal of Fran is her sense of independence. She takes no quarter from the other characters and shares her opinions without any shame.
I understand the game tries to frame Fran's actions as "protecting" her sister. Regardless, Mjrn's point of the Viera needing to confront significant issues plaguing Ivalice is a legitimate concern. We can only assume the Empire's experiments with Mist pose a threat to their way of life. Furthermore, my heart dropped when Mjrn expressed her desire to live her own life outside of Eruyt Village. The idea of "leaving the roost" is something I think we all find appealing. Why the story decides to squelch this growing sense of independence is beyond my comprehension. In the end, Fran comes across as a hypocrite by the end of her character arc.
Part 36: Again, Why Is The B-Plot Ten Times Better Than The Main Story?
Before progressing the story further, I went ahead and wrapped up several side-quests. As mentioned before, Final Fantasy XII provides "guest" characters who tag along with your party for limited spurts. As a result, you feel motivated to take advantage of these opportunities when they present themselves. As such, I took on the optional Earth Tyrant boss. With Larsa's help, the battle itself did not pose as big a problem as anticipated. However, and I know I harp on this a lot, the process of getting to the battle was a long and drawn out affair.
Before we return to the main story, it is worth mentioning that from this point forward the game ramps up the number of transitions to Archadia. As our party enters Mt. Bur-Omisace, we watch a brief juxtaposition to Vayne as he defends his recent actions to his father. When we reach Gran Kiltias Anastasis, shit hits the fan. Here, we watch Vayne violently usurp the throne from his father. As I said before, these cutscenes, as short as they may be, feature the most compelling storytelling in the game. We spend at most twenty minutes with Judge Drace, but her execution at the hands of Gabranth is one of the story's most memorable moments.
To prove my point further, let's examine Gabranth as a case study. I am of the controversial opinion he is the story's best character. While he starts as your typical obedient bodyguard, the game begins to show his many layers. When the game ends, you realize he's a torn and broken man. Not only does he profoundly regret his actions, but he also wants to make amends by doing the right thing. And you know what? The story pulls off his redemption in flying colors! Without a doubt, the drama surrounding Archadia feels far more genuine than most of what we see with our primary cast.
Square-Enix has a history of including sub-plots that outshine their main narratives. The example that immediately comes to mind is Final Fantasy VIII. There, I ended up preferring my time with Laguna over Squall. In Final Fantasy XII, I feel equally torn, but I wish it went as far as Final Fantasy VIII's treatment of Laguna. It would have been GREAT if the game provided opportunities to play as the judges during different points in the story. I understand they are fascists guilty of war crimes, and I don't intend to make light of this fact. But, I can't help but feel playing as them, even in short spurts, would do Final Fantasy XII's story a massive service.
Furthermore, I wish there were more scenes involving Gabranth clashing with Vayne. Throughout the game, you see the aftermath of Vayne's brutality, but never watch the process in which he reaches his cruel conclusions. Additionally, when the game pivots Gabranth as a redemptive character, there aren't enough scenes where we see him pleading with Vayne. Case in point, when we fight Judge Bergan, the game attempts to frame him as a brutal and vicious monster. However, his attack against Mt. Bur-Omisace occurs off-screen. How much better would it have been if we saw Gabranth standing in a war room with Bergan and Vayne? Then, as Vayne drones about his attack, we see Gabranth shocked in horror.
Part 37: It's Time, Yet Again, To Pick Up Some Bullshit At A Temple!
If it seems as if I am "down" on Final Fantasy XII, nothing could be further from the truth. While there's one more set piece that annoyed me, I found Mt. Bur-Omisace to be one of the best levels in the game. Whether judged by art design, worldbuilding, or storytelling metrics, your time there ticks all the right boxes. It is an organic world teeming with lore that thankfully transforms as you reach different parts of the story. The version of Mt. Bur-Omisace we first encounter is very different from the one we see after our battle against Judge Bergan. Furthermore, it is one of only a handful of environments where the game encourages exploration at your own pace.
Far too often video games depict calamitous events without taking the time to show the aftermath of those disasters. Final Fantasy XII primarily manages to avoid that pitfall. Here, we have an unmistakable imprint of the real cost of the Empire's violent conquests. Refugee camps litter Mt. Bur-Omisace and they feature almost every race and culture found in Ivalice. The breadth of people living in poverty took me by surprise. For miles and miles, you see tents for refugees. Likewise, it's something the game doesn't shy away from as you make the slow trek to the top of the mountain. During your walk, you witness depressing scenes such as people huddling around a makeshift food pantry or children crying for their parents.
It's also important to note this is when Vaan becomes a complete afterthought. After showing a bit of humanity at the Garif village, Vaan spends the better part of ten hours making wisecracks and off-hand comments you'd expect out of a seventeen-year-old boy. So, credit where credit is due, Square-Enix finally managed to craft a character that talks and acts like a teenager. The problem is he's involved in geopolitics and often comes across as a total goober. Additionally, it is not a good look when the supporting characters roll their eyes at Vaan and expect you to join them. Ultimately, Ashe, Basch, and Balthier come to prominence by the story's climax, and they, more than Vaan, become the driving force of the story.
When our party finally enters the main temple, they encounter Gran Kiltias Anastasis. The curious religious leader communicates via telepathy and shares his exhaustive knowledge of Ashe's quest. Just as Ashe prompts Anastasis for advice, Al-Cid Margrace, a member of the ruling family of Rozarria, arrives. Final Fantasy XII is notable because it features TWO story significant characters named "Cid." Curiously enough, both of them feature campy and over-the-top voice acting. However, one of these characters works and the other is a complete disaster. Al-Cid Margrace is the latter of these two.
Trust me; I LOVE camp in my Final Fantasy games. Nevertheless, our first meeting with Anastasis is neither the time nor place for this Spanish playboy. A Spanish playboy, mind you, who spends more time dramatically taking off his Gucci sunglasses than bringing everyone up to speed. I guess it is worth discussing Final Fantasy XII's choice of voice acting. Ivalice's aristocrats have British accents, the lower-class sport American accents, and sex-pests like Al-Cid have Spanish accents. What I find especially depressing is I like the concept of Al-Cid as an avatar of a distant and culturally distinct land. I also like the Rozarrian Empire being an unseen but omnipotent threat to our party's quest for peace. But, GOOD GOD is the execution TERRIBLE!
Accordingly, let's address the issues of "tone" at Mt. Bur-Omisace because HOT DAMN is there a lot to discuss! Before Al-Cid arrives, it appears Ashe is one step away from executing Larsa's plan for world peace. When our Spanish beefcake waltzes through the temple, he drops two massive bombshells. After patting Larsa on the head and calling him "old friend," the Spanish underwear model announces Larsa's father is dead. Yup, immediately after sashaying to the Gran Kiltias, he announces Vayne has usurped power and declared martial law in the Archadian Empire. When Ashe seizes control of the discussion, the tone further swerves to drama. She begs Anastasis to think of anything that would allow her to cause the armies of Rozarria and Archadia to lay down their arms. On a dime, Anastasis names YET ANOTHER magical MacGuffin that can assist Ashe in her quest.
Part 38: You Know What? I MISS The Cloisters From Final Fantasy X!
With Vayne in power and the world on the brink of global war, you'd think the game would unleash its pace to match the tone of the story. Sadly, you would be wrong as, yet again, the game tasks our party with collecting a legendary item from a far off temple. No matter, as Anastasis explains, the "Stilshrine of Miriam" contains the legendary "Sword of Kings" which can destroy any piece of nethicite. To acquire this sword, we fumble around in a Mayan inspired temple futzing around with statues. I wish I were kidding. It's the fucking climax of the middle act, and everything plays exactly like the first dungeon!
My hatred here isn't due entirely to the puzzles being arduous and time-consuming. The long and dark history of lousy puzzle design in Final Fantasy games is a frequent topic of this series. Likewise, the level culminating to a cheesy esper battle isn't immediately repulsive as well. While I would prefer the esper battles to play out better, cheap bosses are to be expected in a Final Fantasy game. What I despise is how little effort the game makes to connect these temples to the world. When you stop and think about how much of your time is spent at these levels, you'd hope Square would take the time to make them feel meaningful.
Consequently, let's address the title of this section. You may remember I referred to the Cloisters in Final Fantasy X as a "black mark" in an otherwise tour de force of classic Square-Enix worldbuilding. Back in that series, I repeatedly questioned the need for the Cloisters as they shared no cohesive artistic design or recurring gameplay hooks. As I wallow in the dungeons of Final Fantasy XII, I now recognize how wrong I was to dismiss the cloisters as brazenly as I did. Oh, how I WISH these levels showed as much visual variety as the temples in Final Fantasy X! The least you can say about the cloisters is they provide gameplay "breaks" after pulse-pounding cinematics.
Instead, in Final Fantasy XII, you have to toil away against trash mobs in the same copy-paste dungeons over and over again. It's the same drab sandstone temple design we have seen since chapter one, and it's fucking killing me. Seriously, I feel like I have seen more compelling dungeons farted out of GameMaker! On top of that, everything feels entirely contextless. At least at the Tomb of Raithwall, we got a handful of grandiose speeches from Ashe about the legend of the Dynast King. Here, we get JACK SHIT! Worse, when we finally make our way to the Vinuskar and Mateus boss battles, you have no idea why you are fighting them!
Humor me as I rant once again about the Esper battles. I fucking HATE these battles, and they continue to get worse. Admittedly, the story-required Esper battles are not as bad as the optional ones. That said, natural gas is better for the environment than coal, but that doesn't mean we should be opening up thousands of natural gas plants. What I especially hate is how each of these battles, with a few exceptions, plays exactly like the previous one. In every battle, at around the halfway point, Espers summon a high-level magical ability that provides a proverbial "gear check." Either, you survive these cheesy spells, or you don't; there's no middle ground.
Part 39: Judge Bergan, And The Narrative Consequences Of Grinding
Again, creating compelling set pieces is a consistent strong point in Final Fantasy XII. As you make the treck back to Mt. Bur-Omisace, you see the same densely populated refugee camps, but this time they are in ruins. Smoke billows from the tent strewn landscape, and upon entering the temple, you see countless dead bodies and desecrated religious artifacts. Your interactions with the surrounding NPCs paint an even grimmer picture. The refugees recount an army of Imperials laying waste with reckless abandon, and the mountain's acolytes recite acts of murder and genocide. As you enter the main temple, you encounter the slain body of the Gran Kiltias. The camera then pans to a comic book-esque mutant super soldier, Judge Bergan, who then screams as if he's about to take a shit.
There's a lot more to unpack about this boss than you'd think. For one, having a tragic moment culminate in a battle against a laughable super soldier, is disappointing. Second, the confrontation itself is a pushover unless you are incredibly under-leveled. As someone who completed every hunt up to this point, I blew through Judge Bergan as if he was a wolf from the Dalmasca Estersand. This situation poses another dilemma with Final Fantasy XII's grind-heavy nature. With loot-grind feedback loops strewn throughout the game, the storyline confrontations can become an afterthought. Earlier, we watched Judge Bergan slay Judge Drace with relative ease. To watch him fall apart in a matter of minutes because I completed a bunch of side quests is undeniably anti-climatic.
Additionally, the Gambit System makes battles against single-target enemies far easier than fighting against trash mobs. When you fight a single boss, you can immediately identify which attacks are the most effective and quickly input the appropriate Gambits to deploy those maneuvers. However, when you go toe-to-toe against swarms of enemies, setting up Gambits becomes exponentially harder. When there is more than one enemy, you have to set up additional parameters or risk your characters not hitting their intended targets. Eventually, you discover a handful of fail-proof Gambits such as "Foe: party leader's target" or "Foe: nearest visible." That aside, Lord have mercy on your soul if you want to distribute attacks equally or plan AOE spells in tandem with buffs.
I have to preface; I am warming up to the Gambit System. When you finally strike a smooth rhythm, the system is highly rewarding. That said, there are a few things about the system that continue to annoy me. I understand several of you have grown weary of my rants about the Gambit System. Thus, I think it is high time I come clean about my bias. To make it abundantly clear to everyone, I believe the move to real-time combat in the Final Fantasy franchise was a mistake. I have always held turn-based combat fits the immediate needs of the single-player Final Fantasy games better than free form real-time combat. Ultimately, I find planning attacks on a timeline or timed-meter to be more contusive to role-playing than automating characters using an algorithm.
Look, if you enjoy MMORPGs, then more power to you. What I can say from my experience, is there's something innately appealing to planning your character's every move. Tabletop role-playing games have been taking advantage of that appeal for the better part of forty years! So, don't simply dismiss me as a Luddite. More importantly, Final Fantasy XII tries to have your standard role-playing tropes while also incentivizing the player to hand over control to an automated system. That is what I ultimately dislike about Final Fantasy XII's mechanics. It wants to remove you from the actions of your party members, or at the very least, place several barriers between you and the action on the screen.
To me, controlling your characters in combat is half of the appeal of role-playing games. There's something magical about watching my wizard master a spell like Flare and selecting it during a battle. But, what I don't like is when an automated system gets to enjoy that sense of character progression. I HATE having to surrender what I spent HOURS toiling away to earn, to Boolean logic of all things. That's MY spell; that's MY suit of armor; that's MY Wizard! I understand a lot of this sounds self-entitled, but when a game expects me to sink in thirty plus hours, emotions are bound to flare up.
Part 40: WHY IS THERE SO MUCH POINTLESS WALKING?!
Upon dispatching Judge Bergan, our party discusses the origins of the judge's new-found strength. During an earlier cutscene, we even saw the same shadowy figure from the Henne Mines looming over the shoulders of Bergan. When Balthier examines his corpse, he notices signs of manufactured nethicite running through his veins. With the temple in ruins and Larsa nowhere to be found, Al-Cid Margrace appears and brings everyone up to speed. Larsa is currently safe under Gabranth's ward, and the Imperial Navy is in route to preemptively attack Rozzaria. Believing Ashe can convince both sides to lay down their arms, Al-Cid asks she return to Rozzaria with him. Ashe refuses and states she can only stop the threat of war once she has destroyed the Dusk Shard.
If you are wondering how any of this information relates to the next steps of our party, then buckle up. After Ashe announces her plan to destroy the Dusk Shard, she maps out our long treck to the Imperial Capital, Archades. This journey, I shit you not, necessitates we traverse through FIVE interstitial environments, six if you include our time in "Old Archades!" You might be thinking, "But ZombiePie, Final Fantasy games use transitional levels to build character moments and plot arcs!" In most cases, you would be correct. Unfortunately, with Final Fantasy XII, these levels exist solely to provide the player with more opportunities to grind. At best, we get to listen to a long-winded explanation about Balthier's relationship with the evil Doctor Cid, but that's after HOURS of fussing about in mindless open-world dungeons!
These grinding levels are the gift that keeps on giving. I am willing to admit there might be something appealing to the Gambit and License systems. Maybe you find both mechanics to be the most exciting concepts Square-Enix has conceived in over ten years. I'll come clean and admit I love the game's job system. Specializing characters to address environmental needs and party-wide shortcomings adds role-playing pizzaz in a game that desperately needs it. What I do not appreciate is how Final Fantasy XII does not respect my time.
Square KNOWS they could get away with two to three transitions between mainline story events. However, because Final Fantasy XII is their first "bite" at the real-time apple, it is filled with gameplay-heavy environments. My guess is this is by design, so the player has multiple opportunities to test out new mechanics without feeling overwhelmed. That or the development team felt obligated to copy-paste the level design of Final Fantasy XI. Be that as it may, the consequence is the story stops dead in its tracks on several occasions.
Case in point, there are environments like the "Mosphoran Highwaste," which contain multiple parts and contribute virtually nothing to the game's story. It exists so Square-Enix can place dozens of side quests and optional hunts to create the illusion of interactivity. You think these environments tie into the game's greater world, but they don't. All they do is create one-off situations that force you to play around with the game's half-dozen mechanics. If you like these mechanics, great, but that doesn't change the underlying issue with this game's structure. Despite having stunning art assets and beautiful skyboxes, the vast majority of the game's environments lack "true" staying power.
To further my point, I want to play a game with you. Down below, you will find a box with screencaps from my playthrough. What I challenge you to do is determine which screencaps are from the following locations:
Sochen Cave Palace
My guess is the vast majority of you will struggle to nail down at least three of these environments. And do you want to know what that proves? This game doesn't need more open world dungeons! What it needs are more storyline set pieces like Mt. Bur-Omisace or Archades where the characters go through genuine drama and strife! Since the last blog, I can honestly say I have come around to the game's cast, and that includes Vaan! What I now lament is they are not provided enough time to develop and evolve naturally as characters on an epic journey!
I cannot preface this point enough; there are plotlines the game NEEDS to develop! As it stands, the story so far has six active narratives. First, we have Ashe and her attempt to regain her homeland's independence. Second, there's Larsa and his attempt to deal with Vayne's usurpation of power. Third, Basch wants to prove he was not responsible for the assassination of King Raminas. Fourth, Bash ALSO has to deal with his twin brother. Fifth, there's Balthier's backstory and his relationship to Draklor Laboratory. Sixth, there's the evil specter from earlier that looks like the Grim Reaper. And this is all ignoring the one-off character moments the game has for each of our party members!
Finally, when Final Fantasy XII is "done" with a character, they might as well be an NPC. Are the issues about Fran's heritage ever addressed again? You bet your ass they aren't! Have you forgotten about everything Vaan said at the Garif Village? WELL, THE GAME CERTAINLY HAS! I know I try to not "spoil" upcoming blogs, but the next episode will detail what I consider the "worst" part of Final Fantasy XII. I am, of course, speaking of the transitional levels between Mt. Bur-Omisace and Draklor Laboratory. So, until next time, get your goddamned chops ready because it's going to be a bumpy ride!
First, I want to start this blog with a public disclaimer. If you are looking for an objective perspective about Square-Enix's presence at E3 2019, you should look elsewhere. While my love for Square-Enix is a recent development, objectivity on my part is not possible. Thus, if you are looking for reasoned coverage of the major presentations, might I recommend Gamer_152's E3 blog series. Second, I do not plan to cover any other E3 press conferences. This concession is not a condemnation of the content of the previous and subsequent E3 press conferences. Instead, it is a hallmark of my inability to work through my recurring issues with procrastination.
To make my biases more visible, I thought Square-Enix had a solid E3 conference. They showcased an extensive family of games which played to their core fanbase with a few attempts at mainstream credibility. Until the presser's questionable end, I would even go so far as to suggest it was one of the better "paced" conferences. While Microsoft and Bethesda both showcased more impactful games, I think Square-Enix did a better job of avoiding "dead time." That is not to suggest Square-Enix's performance was perfect. For one thing, I do not believe I have ever seen a publisher miss so horribly on its conference showstopper. Nevertheless, let's jump into my review of the major announcements from their conference!
The Final Fantasy VII Remake Represents The Best And Worst Of Square
Before I give the Final Fantasy VII Remake a fair share of criticism, I have to concede it had a more than decent showing at E3. Midgar continues to look spectacular, and I have no grievances with the new character models. As someone who wasn't a fan of the Advent Children character models, I support the Remake's artistic "revisions." My positive sentimentality also applies to what I have seen of the Remake's gameplay. I'm glad Square-Enix isn't merely copying and pasting the combat system from Final Fantasy XV as I initially feared. Instead, the combat embraces the flashy visual style of Final Fantasy XV while honoring the hallmarks of the original game in its UI and pace of play.
Nonetheless, I have some general reservations about the state of the Final Fantasy VII Remake. First, Square is not commenting on a stable release schedule for future episodes. Additionally, there's no clear picture of how the episodic format will impact the overall game. Regarding the first matter, I fear Square-Enix is giving fans the runaround about the Remake's "true" state of completion. The vast majority of what Square has shown has involved Midgar, and the early gameplay mechanics you have at your disposal there. As such, we have yet to see characters summon deities, or play around with the Materia system. Additionally, due to the first episode's focus on Midgar, we have yet to see any representation of the game's overworld or optional side quests. What Square has shown are tightly edited cinematics with the Final Fantasy VII characters we all know and love, fighting foes behind familiar backdrops. Unfortunately, to me, that feels like a glorified dog and pony show.
This issue inevitably leads me to my second point of contention. Square only showcasing Midgar might be a deliberate choice because it presents the most straightforward and least controversial portion of the game to remake. Side quests are few and far between at Midgar, and while the level's scope initially appears enormous, it is one of the game's more linear environments. This fact presents a significant hazard for the Remake's subsequent episodes for several reasons. First, upon the game's second act, it strings you through a series of interstitial levels that lack any real staying power. While many fans are apt to point out the Golden Saucer or North Corel, they are equally inclined to forget about Bone Village, Kalm, or Mideel. While Midgar is rightfully what most people remember about Final Fantasy VII, it represents at most a quarter of your overall playtime.
Finally, I have to question the long-term viability of the episodic format. Square has been perpetually cagey when asked about how saves will communicate between each episode, and this reluctance is incredibly concerning. Most people forget, but the minute you leave Midgar, Final Fantasy VII becomes a proto-open world RPG. When the game gives you access to its overworld, you can explore your surroundings at your own pace. The question here is whether or not Square will provide players with this freedom or instead graft a more linear format to the Remake. Likewise, how Square-Enix handles the side quests in Final Fantasy VII will be interesting. For example, when will players be able to collect the optional summons or party members? Or, when am I going to have to deal with Yuffie stealing my shit?
Final Fantasy XIV Continues To Be A Great Game I Never Plan To Play
The story of Final Fantasy XIV is that of gaming's most magnificent comeback. After the original version launched to a lukewarm response, Square-Enix embarked upon a massive effort to rebuild the game from the ground up. To everyone's surprise, they succeeded. The game we now know as Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn bears little resemblance to the disaster it once may have been. As someone who has never touched Final Fantasy XIV, the game's rise to respectability has been enlightening to watch. I don't deny having a desire to play the game, but it's something I do not plan on doing any time soon.
Square-Enix's E3 presentation of Final Fantasy XIV played out as I predicted. Square briefly ran through its patch notes as if they represented new and groundbreaking content. With the busywork behind them, they transitioned to a story-based trailer that spewed a mountain of proper nouns. Look, I'm not trying to shit on anyone's parade, but that is what Square-Enix did, and as an outsider looking in, it was a lot to take in. Much like Jeff during Giant Bomb's reaction stream, when the characters spewed heaps of long-winded terminology, I couldn't help but laugh. This grievance leads me to one of the critical barriers that continue to prevent me from jumping into Final Fantasy XIV: its inaccessibility.
I have talked to countless people who LOVE Final Fantasy XIV since starting my Final Fantasy blog series. Three recurring themes have always propped up in these conversations. One, the Final Fantasy XIV community is incredibly close-knit despite its enormous size. Two, support for the game has been mostly excellent in its many years of operation. And finally, the game requires at least thirty hours before its much-ballyhooed story and characters kick into high gear. That last point is an honest-to-goodness "deal breaker." During a typical workday, I barely have enough time to cook and clean, let alone dutifully budget hours into an MMORPG. Again, if you watched the trailer for Final Fantasy XIV with bated breath, more power to you. Even so, I couldn't help but wonder how many hours it would take for me to reach that exact cinematic in the game.
Final Fantasy VIII Remastered Is The "Right" Type Of Remaster
We now come to the reveal that was by far my "Game of the Show," the Final Fantasy VIII Remaster. I love everything about this announcement, and I don't care what anyone else thinks. If the reports of Square-Enix losing the source code of Final Fantasy VIII are correct, it's a miracle this remaster is even happening. Regardless, one of the most neglected numbered entries in the Final Fantasy franchise is finally getting its due. I'm not lying about that last sentence; Final Fantasy VIII is by far the least loved of the PlayStation One Final Fantasy games. Final Fantasy VII and IX have been ported to several modern platforms already. Even the pre-Final Fantasy IV games get more love than VIII as they have seen remasters on the Nintendo DS!
Seemingly, there appears to be a backlash surrounding the remaster of Final Fantasy VIII. Some have pointed out Final Fantasy VIII's "messy" and unbalanced gameplay as a liability. For many others, the drawing and junction systems are unintuitive and endlessly frustrating. Furthermore, as many of the critics claim, if the remaster only applies a new coat of paint, Final Fantasy VIII remains at best a proverbial "diamond in the rough." In all honesty, I don't have a witty retort to counter these grievances. Final Fantasy VIII is a busted ass video game plagued by poor execution. To illustrate, it wasn't until my second playthrough I finally grappled the game's Limit Break and item refining systems. Like many, the game's drawing and level-scaling mechanics baffled me during my first playthrough. It's a fucking nightmare of a game, and yet, I am glad Square-Enix isn't fixing a damn thing!
I'm not going to try to convince you the junction system is secretly the best attribute system in a Final Fantasy game, short of the Sphere Grid. What I do want you to consider is the historical significance of leaving the game's mechanics and gameplay intact. Flat out, there's nothing like Final Fantasy VIII in the history of video games, and I mean that both figuratively and literally. Countless video games have "borrowed" the idea of the ATB meter or Sphere Grid. By comparison, no one has ever attempted to emulate Final Fantasy VIII's junction system. No one. And you know what? Final Fantasy VIII's busted ass mechanics need to seen to be believed.
As a case study, let's return to the Final Fantasy VII Remake. In the end, I don't blame Square for grafting a new gameplay system to Final Fantasy VII. My reason is "vanilla" Final Fantasy VII exists virtually everywhere. The Materia System isn't a groundbreaking mechanic that upends your notions of a role-playing game. Its tabula rasa approach is a tried-and-true format we are all too familiar with at this point. Final Fantasy VIII's mechanics are the complete opposite of that. To get any significant progress in Final Fantasy VIII, you have to unlearn everything you know about role-playing games, and that makes it so much more memorable. Concepts like the item refining mechanic make virtually everything you collect useful in combat. Do these mechanics "break" the game within its opening hour? Yes, but that's part of what makes it such a liberating and novel video game!
Also, beggars can't be choosers when it comes to Final Fantasy VIII. Sure, there is a highly questionable PC port that made its way to Steam not so long ago. Nonetheless, since then, the only thing Final Fantasy VIII fans have gotten is a mobile app allowing them to play Triple Triad. I, and many other Final Fantasy VIII fans, will take what we can get, and we do not need fancy bells or whistles. What we want is a game that allows us to relive our memories of Final Fantasy VIII on modern platforms. Final Fantasy VIII is near and dear to my heart because it was my first Final Fantasy game. Furthermore, while it is not perfect by any stretch of the word, its imperfections make it unique. To further highlight my feelings, I'm going to pull a quote from my last blog about Final Fantasy VIII:
No game swings, misses, and keeps on swinging like Final Fantasy VIII. As a package, Final Fantasy VIII is an unmitigated failure. Its gameplay is hilariously broken, its story is a trash fire, and it is a slog to play. However, there is no game like Final Fantasy VIII. It is so earnest about what it attempts and fails to accomplish. I cannot help but look at the game with a sense of broken nostalgia. I realize it's not a great game, but I love it. You would have to be crazy to want to play Final Fantasy VIII, and that is exactly why you should.
Other Miscellaneous Games That Caught My Attention
Before we address the real "elephant in the room," let's run through Square-Enix's other E3 game announcements. Games that generally warrant a highlight reel by Sony or Microsoft, all had a decent amount of time to show their gameplay and story hooks. Admittedly, some games had better presentations than others. For example, Life Is Strange 2's trailer was downright painful to watch as shouting Twitch streamers summarized the game's recent events. Nevertheless, I felt there was something for everyone who gives a shit about Square-Enix as a developer and publisher.
For one thing, never in a million years would I have guessed Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles would reappear at E3. It is a game with decent ideas that were, at least in my mind, afflicted with a problematic format. I don't know about you, but finding four people with GBA to GameCube link cables was a rough experience! No matter, I hope the game sees a new audience that realizes it was more fun than most would presume. Who knows, if the re-release does well enough maybe the cowards at Square will bring My Life as a King to the Nintendo Switch!
I share a similar sentiment about the reveal trailer for The Last Remnant. I'm glad the game is getting a remaster, but I wish Square-Enix hadn't pulled the original game from Steam. All that does is force people to buy the remaster at full cost with a cheaper alternative wholly removed from the market. Additionally, Square-Enix spent too much of the middle portion of their conference showcasing known quantities. I had an anemic response to the time spent on Octopath Traveler and Dragon Quest. Both demos laid out new releases of well-established and fan-favorite games but lacked impactful surprises.
We also have the SaGa games which caught some long-time Square-Enix fans off guard. Romancing SaGa 3 and SaGa: Scarlet Grace are coming to the West for the first time. Indeed, I think it's great these games are finally getting official western releases. What I wish was also a part of this announcement was a more significant commitment to the entirety of the SaGa franchise. What many people forget about is the SaGa series started with Final Fantasy Legend on the original GameBoy. Since then, the series has branched off into three different paths (i.e., Final Fantasy Legend, Romancing SaGa, and SaGa Frontier), with the majority of fans rightfully ignoring Unlimited Saga. I don't want to suggest I hate these two games for coming to the West, but I cannot help but view them as the "tip of the iceberg."
The Avengers Game Hurt My Feelings
Good Lord, where do I even begin? As I mentioned in the introduction, never before have I seen a major publisher miss so hard on their E3 "showstopper" quite like Square-Enix this year. After starting with gameplay footage from the Final Fantasy VII Remake, Square-Enix, in all their wisdom, ended their presser with their Avengers video game adaptation, and it was an unmitigated disaster. Before we jump into why I think Marvel's Avengers is a warning of what's to come, I want to make a few things clear. First, I have no issues with the game not using the likenesses of the Marvel cinematic universe. If the comic books can exist side-by-side with the movies, then this video game can as well.
Likewise, I appreciated taking the time to show the voice acting team behind the characters. I think voice-acting is underappreciated in the video game industry and more exposure to voice actors is always a good thing. Similarly, I found it to be a simple way to communicate how the game would be its own thing separate from the more popular Marvel movies. Where my enthusiasm starts to trail off is how little of the actual game was shown. Crystal Dynamics and Eidos Montréal later clarified the game is an action-adventure experience but left other aspects of the game entirely unknown. Crystal Dynamics complimented the confusing affair by lecturing about "sacrifice," "self-acceptance," and "making hard choices" without a clue as to what any of that means.
To an outsider looking in, your initial reaction might be to brush this poor showing aside. Before the Avengers, Square presented a bevy of game announcements that got plenty of people's blood pumping. However, as someone who has been following the business trajectory of Square-Enix for the past three years, Marvel's Avengers represents something more significant. It is yet another example of how out of touch the studio is with the modern gaming landscape. Here they have one of the hottest IPs in all media, and they couldn't be fucked to communicate what genre this game is going to be. They instead regurgitated three or four times how "honored" they are to be working alongside Marvel.
I have said it before, and I'll say it again, modern Square-Enix is a poorly run company. Seriously, it is a miracle they are still in business. On top of that, all of Square-Enix's worst habits were splayed out for all to see. Instead of making a case of how an Avenger's game set outside the cinematic universe provides a storytelling opportunity, Square had voice actors drone about their characters. Worse, "hubris" continually plagued the last twenty minutes of Square's E3 presser. Mark my words, if you think Square has learned from their mishandling of Hitman (2016) and the Tomb Raider reboots, then you have another thing coming. I have my money on Square releasing this game with no advertising, outside of word-of-mouth, as they did with Hitman!
However, here's what scares me most of all. Last year, Square-Enix revealed they made almost a billion dollars on Final Fantasy XIV and their mobile games. With this E3 conference, they made it abundantly clear they spent that money on retooling the Final Fantasy VII Remake and buying the Avengers IP. What's even scarier is Square's mobile division has seen declining revenue since the second quarter of 2018. That means both of these games are being developed using an unsustainable business model. Thus, Square's "wiggle room," should either game underperform, is shockingly tight.
There's been a recurring joke among Final Fantasy fans about the Final Fantasy VII Remake that's been going around Twitter. As the joke goes, after the Remake sells twenty million copies, Square will cancel future episodes due to "an unbearable cashflow" problem. At this point, that is a possible scenario that could play out in real life. I hate to end this blog on a bummer, but I cannot in good conscience sign off on Square-Enix's 2019 E3 press conference without looking at the "big picture." While E3 usually sets out to establish unbridled optimism for the future of gaming, that's not the case with Square-Enix. They did a sufficient enough job playing to their base, but their attempts at mainstream credibility could spell their downfall. But for now, the Final Fantasy pain train does seem to be stopping anytime soon. Until next time, PEACE!
I'm not going to lie, E3 is a bit of a "burden" for me. For one, the constant cycle of live streams has, on several occasions, broken me to the point of exhaustion. Likewise, as a moderator of a video game website, I can tell you the event surfaces some all too familiar feelings of anxiety. While inclusivity in video games is inching in a positive direction, something about E3 incites the worst of people. Even so, I decided to have a little "fun" with my E3 2019 predictions. As a disclaimer, I want you to know my predictions are more or less broad musings about E3 in general. So, without further ado, let's jump into it!
Prediction #1: Microsoft Will Announce More Than Twenty Indie Games During A Five-Minute Montage
We start this blog by turning our attention to Microsoft, and what I would describe as my least favorite E3 tradition. During Microsoft's conference, I predict they will announce a record number of exciting indie games during their yearly ID@Xbox montage. As with previous years, these short vignettes will attract more critical acclaim than the vast majority of AAA games showcased on their stage. Admittedly, games shown during the ID@Xbox demo reel have a solid track record of panning out as expected. To illustrate, Cuphead and Dead Cells both had their E3 debuts during Microsoft's montage. No matter, its existence is, at least in my opinion, an emblem of E3's limitations.
I suspect part of what drives this demo reel is there are games worth showing that cannot justify an on-stage demo. Additionally, I understand E3 is meant for veteran gamers and members of the press who use it as a means of exploring future game purchases. Nonetheless, the shortcomings of this segment highlight how E3's format has remained static for well over a decade. To try to boil down the essence of any game to a ten to fifteen-second snippet flies against the dynamism that makes video games interesting in the first place. Worse, this tradition perpetually undermines Microsoft's efforts to frame itself as an indie "friendly" partner. Which, in this day and age, seems ill-advised.
Prediction #2: People Will State Games They Are Demoing Will NOT Use Loot Boxes
It's been an "interesting" year for loot boxes. Nigh two months ago Mortal Kombat 11's use of loot boxes drew universal condemnation. Then you have Fortnite, whose use of loot boxes motivated several politicians to consider regulating the practice. Nonetheless, I'm not predicting a full-on "loot box apology tour" during any particular E3 conference. Even so, I suspect the issue of loot boxes will come up throughout E3. For instance, I predict at least one developer will proudly exclaim their game lacks microtransactions during a major press conference. Likewise, we will most likely listen to a CEO pledging to keep their company "in touch" with its community of supporters. Or better yet, someone on stage will claim they have "listened to their fans."
I don't want my previous paragraph to suggest I support loot boxes. Quite the contrary, I find the practice exploitative as it preys of some people's issues with self-control or gambling addictions. Nonetheless, I have zero tolerance for million-dollar corporations dogpiling on another company's misfortune by trying to frame themselves as being "consumer friendly." This heinous practice usually comes from Devolver Digital whose chaotic conference more often than not attempts to take the piss out of other companies. That, in my honest opinion, is total dogshit. For one thing, we are talking about people's livelihoods. An executive's poor decision-making should not be used as a segue to shit on other people's hard work. Finally, and this is a point Rami Ismail made last year, you KNOW every developer has considered microtransactions at least once when making a game. To celebrate the failures of another developer for following through on their "gut reaction" is beyond fucked.
Prediction #3: Nintendo Will Announce A Spin-off To A Beloved Franchise No One Wanted
By far one of the more baffling E3's traditions occurs during Nintendo's conference. Every year the world's most recognizable video game company psyches out gamers far and wide by inverting their expectations. Whether it be a crossover with Ubisoft's Rabbids or that Metroid Prime soccer game, Nintendo has a habit of over-estimating the value of name brands. More recently, while fans were clamoring for a proper console Animal Crossing game, Nintendo instead announced a worthless Animal Crossing board game. And don't get me started about Nintendo's repeated antagonism about a western release of Mother 3. I mean, for fuck's sake Nintendo, this isn't funny anymore!
In part, and I hate to play this card, but I blame Nintendo's E3 hubris on its fans. Lest we not forget, when Nintendo revealed they were monetizing their online multiplayer functions, with no promises of improving the service, people applauded their announcement. I get some will claim this occurred thanks to industry "plants," but I have my doubts. I can tell you from experience, if Nintendo hacked apart a cow on stage, people would STILL applaud them. The result is Nintendo is bound by some curse to strike out on at least one game every E3. This year, I'm hedging my bets on a Star Fox spin-off. My guess is it's a collectible card game where Fox McCloud goes up against an army of Yu-Gi-Oh rejects.
Prediction #4: Every AAA Developer Will Avoid Questions Related To Crunch
Last year Waypoint ran a post-E3 article in which its staff compiled publisher and developer responses to questions about "crunch time." The report was exhaustive in scope and beyond enlightening. While some openly embraced Waypoint's questioning, others were outright hostile. How dare the press have the audacity to question the well-being of developers during gaming's biggest stage! Worse, to see industry veterans such as Reggie Fils-Aimé fumble the issue entirely was gut-wrenching. On top of that, my heart sunk every time a producer excused the practice as an "inevitability."
This year, with tales of the "true" cost of game development coming to the forefront, I do not think the issue of crunch is going away for the sake of E3 2019. Nor should it, as the extra visibility may lead to industry-wide change. However, I can only imagine armies of PR representatives will respond to these questions with rehearsed lines repeating corporate approved statements about company wellness. Moreover, we are dancing around the issue if E3 itself is by design a "high-risk" environment that leads to the practice of crunch. While many gaming journalists are apt to deplore crunch, they remain complacent when participating in E3 "press awards." These awards, in turn, can impact the long-term financial viability of a video game as they relate to a game's marketing prospects. It's a horrible capitalistic Sisyphean torment, but one we all have a role in perpetuating.
Prediction #5: Every Conference Will Treat Remasters Like "New" Releases
I want to preface I don't hate HD Remasters. For many, remasters represent a viable way to play classic video games on modern hardware legally. Likewise, I don't blame developers for investing their resources on remastering games. The industry is currently in flux, and it's hard to be a video game developer nowadays. No matter, I can only hope the development teams who toil away at remasters gain future opportunities to make original video game experiences. Also, I have to question if remasters divert interest in developing unique IPs.
Additionally, and this is a matter I address on my Bionic Commando (2009) blog, it is beyond frustrating how often publishers release HD remasters without any follow up. Take, for example, Capcom and its current relationship to Okami. Since the game's release, Capcom has ported Okami to every conceivable platform. However, Capcom has yet to invest its time on a game with even half the creativity of Okami. Additionally, I find it incredibly difficult to get excited about remasters during E3 as I feel like I'm falling into a marketing trap. For one thing, they provide an easy way for publishers to pad out their "exclusive" numbers. Again, I understand the publisher's motivations here, but I have to question if E3 is the best platform for these games. For example, last year, when Microsoft revealed a remaster of Tales of Vesperia for the Xbox One, the success of that release wasn't stopping Namco from making a new "Tales of..." game. That was happening, no matter what.
Prediction #6: Sony Trolls E3 By Announcing Games On Social Media
In an announcement that caught many off-guard, late last year, Sony confirmed they would not host an E3 2019 press conference. The decision was a significant blow to the clout of E3 as an industry-wide event, but it was an announcement many predicted. I think I speak for everyone, but watching a publisher struggle to fill time to justify a full-blown conference, is downright painful. While I am a noted fan of Bethesda's video game library, I do not think they have ever justified having their own stage. Likewise, time and time again, video games have used streaming services and social media to drum up support for half the cost of a booth at E3. Admittedly, Sony's attempts to emulate the success of Nintendo Direct have been mixed, but it's clear they are trying new things.
Even so, I don't think for a minute Sony will be totally absent during E3 2019. Feel free to accuse me of being a video game conspiracy theorist, but I suspect Sony will take advantage of E3 on social media. You cannot convince me, especially after Death Stranding threw the internet in a tizzy, they do not have a single video game worth promoting during E3. That is why I think they'll take to Twitter or YouTube and ride off the coattails of E3. Furthermore, I have a hunch they'll announce something during the Microsoft or Nintendo press conferences. It would be a total troll move, but absolutely glorious. Likewise, as video game development becomes more accessible, developers should feel more empowered to promote their games on their terms like Sony.
Prediction #7: Patch Notes Will Be Treated Like New Game Announcements
Of my humorous E3 predictions, this one hurts the most. With Microsoft, EA, Square-Enix, and Bethesda all having multiplayer-focused video games, some of their conference time will be dedicated to disclosing online patches. In the case of EA and Bethesda, talking about the long-term plans of their massively multiplayer games is all but guaranteed. But let's not sleep on Square-Enix whom I have a sneaking suspicion will spend upwards to ten minutes reviewing incremental changes to Final Fantasy XIV. And with Microsoft trying to rebuild goodwill about Sea of Thieves and Crackdown 3, you know they have something similar in store for their presser.
Then we have EA and Bethesda. In the case of EA, I cannot fathom how many multiplayer shooters will have their patch notes lectured in excruciating detail. Anthem, Battlefield V, and Battlefront 2 all are bound to have some form of representation at E3 2019, and my guess is it will be underwhelming. Regarding Bethesda, your guess is as good as mine. Directly communicating that they have upcoming patches for Fallout 76 might be a step in the right direction, but at this point is it even worth it? My guess is they reveal a free expansion and promptly discuss necessary in-game quality improvements. Is that enough? Probably not, but something like Fallout 76 doesn't go away in the blink of an eye.