(Note: the following only makes sense if we pretend I never touched Persona 3/4, or Nocturne, all of which I love dearly)
Japanese RPGs used to be my favorite genre of videogames. Weeks, months, and occasionally years (hello, Lunar 2) were devoted to exploring every last inch in games that prided their mammoth 40 to 80 hour play time. In the past, my JRPG anticipation and consumption levels were off the charts, but today, in 2010, I can’t find one of interest. It’s been almost two years since I finished Lost Odyssey, and I can’t even remember what else I cleared before that. Final Fantasy XII, probably, but that was over three years ago. It’s not like they don’t exist anymore; Square Enix’s tepid current gen offerings (from a publishing standpoint) have included a new Star Ocean, Last Remnant, and Infinite Undiscovery, plus a treasure chest of remakes on the DS. Blue Dragon was apparently closely aligned with the school of old, but for whatever reason those kinds of games no longer appeal to me. And it’s a shame, because I used to ravenously devour JRPGs in the late PS1/early PS2 era. I don’t exactly know why I’ve fallen out of love with my former life partner, but I think I’ve narrowed it down to four potential sources.
# 1 I was 14-20 during most of that phase and, thus, uncultured
In my youth, I was relatively underexposed to alternative forms of fiction. I didn’t read books, I barely went to go see good movies, and my interactive entertainment of choice consisted of platformers and Mega Man. RPGs looked too mundane; I remember being baffled by the concept of waiting to hit someone, and I couldn’t understand why my friends were so infatuated with Final Fantasy III (VI) and Chronotrigger. It wasn’t until I (almost accidentally) acquired Panzer Dragoon Saga that I gave the genre a shot, and then, along with Final Fantasy VII and Xenogears, JRPGs instantly evolved into my favorite style of game.
For all intents and purpose, the content in those three games blew my little mind. I was completely absorbed with the sweeping narrative presentation, and hadn’t previously recognized any discernable emotional connection to what was happening on the screen. Games had been a fun way to kill a Saturday, not a legitimate adventure with an end seemingly fixed to the horizon. I was also relatively young, which not only made it easier to overlook obvious plot holes and muddled translations, but also allowed my imagination to fully engage the considerably rich fiction. Everything is awesome when you’re a kid.
Regarding Xenogears, watching Id’s red gear come out of nowhere to lift the Yggdrasil was, at the time, the most shocking turns of events in any fictional medium I had experience, and waking up alone and abandoned in the Nortune prison camp completely rocked my world. It was primitive by today’s standards, but at the time I hadn’t ever (and haven’t since) felt a sense of isolation so profound. I indulged in Final Fantasy VII as well, and the sheer presence of Sephiroth was so alluring that I kept a save file in Kalm so that I could go back through the Nibelheim flashback with him on my team. And Panzer Saga’s Uru showcased the finest marriage between music and visuals I had ever encountered; the ruined landscape was saturated with ambience and desolation, and I literally spent hours just flying around and absorbing every last inch.
Those three games charmed and engaged me on a level that I’ve been searching for ever since the late 90’s. No matter what I play, there’s always an element of I’ve seen before or a section I feel like I’m reliving. It isn’t new or novel and, no matter what the context or marginal innovation, fails at captivating my imagination in any meaningful manner. I haven’t done heroin, but it’s probably not unlike always trying to rediscover your first high. No matter what, I’ll never be like your first time. I’m like Jack Shephard taking plane rides in a pointless quest to go back to the promised land, only without the time machine air plane.
# 2 More Games Exist Today – OR – I Have a Job Now
Like most other kids with no legitimate income, I only got a couple videogames a year. In my youth this resulted in endless days of Sonic and Mega Man, which, through the magic of “well, what else am I going to do,” never got old. The concept of a having backlog of games I hadn’t played yet was completely alien; regardless of its quality, I played the ever loving shit out of everything I was fortunate enough to receive for my birthday or Christmas.
With the advent of my interest in RPGs, I didn’t I have to replay them over and over again. I could stretch an entire play through over the course of a few months. I started Final Fantasy VII in the spring of 1998, and I didn’t stop playing it until the next winter. The main quest only took a few months, but then, in comparison to other games, outrageous amount of extraneous content stole my soul. Gold Chocobos, a litany of side quests, and rare materia were one thing, but the endless stat-maxing and leveling up I did turned Final Fantasy VII into entirely different obsession. I had it in my mind that Sephiroth was going to be the hardest thing ever (the fiction certainly convinced me of such), so I felt it necessary to master like five of every materia, morph or steal seemingly infinite stat sources from the monsters in the downed Gelnika airplane, and throw countless elixirs at Magic Pots in the North Cave. Of course Seph wound up being a total pushover, but my needless leveling felt like a performance, not a grind.
And while GameFAQs existed, it didn’t exactly qualify as an immediate resource. I had the time to sit there and figure out every last detail, even if that meant a month of Chocobo racing in Final Fantasy VII or endlessly battling Ramsus and Miang (early in the game in person or later in Gears) in Xenogears because I couldn’t grasp the concept of deathblow combos. Now, if I can’t get a puzzle solved in five minutes or if I can sense that it’s filled with tedious nonsense, I’ll skip over to GameFAQs and do in an instant what would otherwise take hours. I have the time, sort of, but there is just too much other shit that competes for my attention. The review pile factors in, but the need to experience everything I can has taken priority; why would I ever do a new game plus when, instead, I could indulge in a completely different game?
#3 A Stagnant Genre
The common criticism of JRPGs failure to evolve is completely valid. In fact, fighting games are the only other genre that hasn’t done anything legitimately new in the last ten years. I mean, first person shooters, action games, and even point and click adventures have torn down and rebuilt their formula in that time, but JRPGs struggle to do little other than update the graphics engine. Lost Odyssey was a great example – the game looked great, but it didn’t do a damn thing to iterate upon a foundation laid a decade ago. Instead, it just made everything load slower in a genre that most already consider monotonous. Star Ocean: The Last Hope, from what I briefly played and constantly read, followed the same path.
On the late 1UP Yours podcast, Shane Bettenhausen stated that everyone else waits for each generation’s premier Final Fantasy, and then operates under that newly established paradigm. I’m not sure if I agree with that, but significant evidence exists to support that trend and, if that is indeed the case, it’s pretty sad. It’s mindless incompetence on the part of the developers, and the timid nature of the Japanese culture along with a lack of risks in the gameplay department typically makes for a been there, done that feel. And, even when they try and incorporate western ideas, it’s sort of half assed. If Final Fantasy XIII is going to be what kicks off the latest wave of games (four years into the console cycle) then so be it, but it’s certainly a dead end of that trend continues.
#4 Lack of Concern for Narrative
This sort of relates back to my first point, only with the credit to advances in how we consume media. These days, with nearly every game trying to inject a story into framework that clearly didn’t need one, I don’t have the patience for archetypes spouting at predictable or boring dialogue for plots that, in the end, don’t matter and don’t stay with me after I put the controller down. Non RPGs, like the new Bionic Commando or even Gears of War, didn’t exactly benefit from the narrative and, honestly, my eyes glazed over whenever the action stopped. That isn’t why I play those games, and it’s not what was trying to obtain from the experience.
JRPG’s used to be all about narrative, and there in lied the endearing hook. I pushed through because of the story and because I wanted to see where it was all going. With the advent of people posting videos of cut scenes on the internet and especially with cinema heavy games like Xenosaga, it’s perfectly fine not to finish a game. Screw it if you can just chew the fat off YouTube and skip the contrived gameplay, right?
And I don’t know whether or not this is a result of poor translations or a legitimate need to completely explain everything, but I actually liked Xenogears and FFVII’s fascination with not explaining every last detail. American audiences typically demand resolution, which, in effect, negates any post-credits thought; if it’s all spelled out, what am I supposed to wonder, or remember?
I’ve also reached the point where I can instantly identify a tired archetype in most Japanese games. It’s disappointing because that familiarity ultimately results in a deflated narrative and twists you can see coming a mile away, and it’s tragic because it completely takes the piss out of the plot line. If I’ve seen it before then I’m not going to care, and if I don’t care then I’m not going to play.
Will Final Fantasy XIII amend my broken marriage? Will the shining beacon of JRPG hope renew my interest in the genre, or is it another tired representative in name only? I’ll try and let you know with a review this weekend or early next week!
