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FF12 has been my favorite FF game for years, but I always find myself muttering "I hate this part" when I play it...what's up with that?

For the past decade or so whenever someone would ask me about Final Fantasy titles I would always say ”FFXII (12) is my favorite!” And yet, at the same time, whenever I’ve played it (which has been about 3-4 times), I’m always finding myself muttering “Oh! I hate this part!” 

Recently, I’ve been playing Theatrhythm Curtain Call and Final Bar Line…a lot, and even though FF12 (for seemingly arbitrary reasons) has remained my default answer to “my favorite FF game,” I find myself largely avoiding its song selection (Except Rabanastre, my one true love). Besides Rabanastre, I can’t be bothered to actually care about the songs. I would even go as far as to say listening to them inspires a sense of tedium rather than excitement more often than naught. (This might have more to do with the song selection too though. I'll write about that another time.)

It begs the question then…do I even like FF12? Why has it been my go to answer for so long? What was it that even drew me into the title to begin with?

I think the best place to start is perhaps mentioning the first way I truly interacted with the game. (Ok, the actual first interaction was in 2009-ish, my brother was borrowing it from a friend and I would walk into the room every now and then to see him playing it. I distinctly remember thinking every time “Weren’t you just watching that cutscene?!” I had dabbled in the game myself, but, as it goes for typical middle-schoolers, I really quite sucked at it.) But I digress.

So, back in 2012-ish, I didn’t have access to a PS3 (I know it’s a PS2 title, bear with me). I had never had the opportunity to play FF13 but I wanted to know the story, so for the next week I binged a full “cut-scene” movie (in its 43+ gloriously separate parts) on Youtube. After “finishing” that title, I saw that a similar video had been spliced together for FF12, except it was only 6.5 hours long! Clicky Clicky.

I. Was. Intrigued. The first thing that stood out to me was how the narrative pacing of the cutscenes felt incredibly cinematic in comparison to the FF13 “movie” I had just watched. Maybe it was an impression at the impressive opening video that colored the rest of my consumption, or maybe it was the uploader’s particular editing and splicing choices, but I found the narrative extremely engaging. It’s admittedly been a hot minute since I refreshed myself on the nuances of the story, so my statements will be reflecting more on my lingering impression than specifics (give me some grace please) but…

This leads me to the first reason I believe I “fell in love” with FF12. It was the first story that made me consider “maybe I like political intrigue as a plot genre?” At the time, most of the stories and RPG titles I remember engaging with were the typical fate-of-the-world high fantasy plots rife with foretold heroes, oracles of saviors, OP protagonists that held their worlds by the throat, and (ugh) god-killers. In FF12, though it does arguably fall into a lot of these tropes, there remained at its core a sense of  “insignificance” to the characters when considering the entire world of Ivalice. Perhaps it was the absence of  “inevitable-destinies” or that our protagonists were not “famous” due to some well-known prophecy, or that Vaan and Penelo were literally insignificant to the plot, but it all made the characters feel more relatable. Or maybe it was the sense that no one character felt unreasonably powerful in the face of their larger political foes. The geopolitical consequences of warring nations would have manifested regardless of the specific cast’s coming together. Something about the plot also felt grounded in how selfish and narrow it really was. Ashe wanted to recover her kingdom not for the fate of the world, but because it was unjustly stripped from her and she wanted revenge. It was also at this same time I started to discover a fondness for the “slice-of-life” genre where plots existed comfortably within a small, largely insignificant to the broader world, personal scope. By no means am I out to say FF12 was a cheeky little “slice-of-life,” but the first act at least did make it feel that way for a while.

Which brings me to the second reason I default to FF12 as my favorite: Rabanastre. To me, this city’s presentation felt incredibly alive. Part of this I attribute to the sheer amount of NPC’s visually present in the streets and shops. It really felt like there were people believably living their own lives in the city. On top of that the mentions of the mixed architecture (i.e Galtean versus Dalmascan) and the distinct vibe and socio-economic divide evident with Rabanastre’s Lowtown alluded to a rich history and socio-political fabric that made the world feel lived in. It enforced a sense that the world came first and the characters followed, rather than a world being created to justify the characters’ existence. I know there are a lot of good examples across media that also get this right, but there was just something about FF12’s execution that particularly resonated with me. Maybe it was the timing (I was in those impressionable middle and highschool years after all), or maybe it was the grittier approach to the colors and graphics. Maybe it was how absolutely enthralled I was with the silhouette of the Garifs (I don’t cosplay, but I want to cosplay…), but something about the world of Ivalice as presented in FF12 continues to inspire me to this day. 

I think it is here that lies the real reason I’m so drawn to the spirit of FF12 even in the face of the tedium I somehow equally attribute to it. It’s much less the specifics of the story or even the cast of characters that compels my declaration of “favorite.” Rather, it is the robust world of Ivalice that inspires me. It feels so real, so tangible, like a place I could actually visit. I remember for years I would say “If I could visit any place, real or fantasy, I would want to visit Rabanastre.” I wouldn’t mind experiencing and learning that city’s history first-hand.

So is FF12 still my favorite? Realistically, probably not. I can recall a lot more things I liked about other titles. Nevertheless I don’t think I will ever entirely relinquish my fondness for FF12, or more accurately, Rabanastre. The fact that the innovative auto-gambit-based gameplay was surprisingly fun was just a bonus.

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The Best Part of VLR

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Zero Escape: Virtues Last Reward was Compelling...But It's Presentation Could Have Been Better...

(not necessarily a review)

After finishing this title, I find myself unsure regarding my sentiments towards it, especially considering its prominence in the visual novel (VN) genre. By all means, I enjoyed it (for the most part) and it has certainly left me curious (perhaps even itching) to play the other two titles…but there were several things that ultimately felt artistically frustrated in terms of presentation, visual design choices, and narrative pacing.

(Since writing this article originally, I now own 999 and hope to start it in the coming week!)

GAMEPLAY

The gameplay of Virtue's Last Reward is split into two parts — escape-room sections (ERS) and traditional visual novel sections (VNS) with the latter offering a more innovative take on the core concept than the first. (I will expand on this in the STORY section below.)

While the story took me a while to get into, the puzzles were what kept me coming back. Each room offered nothing out of reach or supremely unique from typical “escape-room” puzzles. Despite this they were engaging nonetheless and delivered a delightful dose of dopamine whenever you got an answer right. The puzzles also grew more involved the further down a story route you got with some even requiring mathematical scratchwork to be done on a piece of paper or on the DS. This is where the nature of the DS really lent itself to the experience. Besides a particularly idiotic dice puzzle near the end, the levels on hard mode felt balanced. Near the end however, I admittedly used a guide to breeze past the “final level” as it was a culmination room that featured returning puzzles leveled up slightly in difficulty. While I have no particular complaints about the nature of this final-level-gameplay, I was not interested in taking this obstacle too seriously as it would have wrenched in a narratively empty hour-long pause on the story’s climax. (I’ve found that in recent years, I primarily engage with games for a story and characters, especially if it’s a VN, than for any sort of innovative gameplay, which tends to fall secondary.)

(QUALITY OF LIFE)

The VNS played out like a typical VN, with the player clicking through dialogue and making choices that would affect what happened next. Incredibly, the entire game is voice acted, save for lines spoken by the player-character. Per VN standard, this game allows you to click through at your own pace, but the ability to completely skip repeated dialogue (of which there are copious amounts) was a feature less intuitively found. This is my chief criticism on the gameplay aspect of the “story” as I was about 18-20 hours in before I figured out you can click the “auto-play” button on the bottom right twice to “fast forward.” Given the nature of The Nonary Games story is to “rewind” and play through previously unchosen routes, the novel sections started to feel long-winded and redundant, particularly after the 15-hour mark. 

STORY and PACING

This leads me to reflecting on the story and how it unfolded. At its core, Virtue’s Last Reward is a visual novel game that relies on the intrigue of player choice affecting the outcome. As mentioned before, this game takes a very unique approach to the traditional “branching” aspect of VN games. It creatively utilizes the “going-back-and-trying-different-routes” gameplay as essential means to progress the overall story. It’s not just about finding a different ending, but rather finding out how every ending is interconnected and necessary to the ultimate reality. 

The deviating plot lines did an excellent job of heightening intrigue without becoming overwhelming; they perpetuated the suspense and kept the shadow of suspicion distributed evenly to every character. Voting sequences were genuinely charged moments, and the anticipation to see how your partner voted was palbable and pleasantly unpredictable. However, for as clever as all this was, the game did toe the line on being a little too dense. There were 24 possible endings in this game, all of which were (arguably) needed to unlock the entire plot. It took approximately 30 hours to get through it all, but I found my attention began waning by hours 15-20. 

There were several contributing factors to this: repeated dialogue/scenes (that again, I didn’t realize how to skip through until 20 hours in), plot lines that were evident in ⅓ of the game and not the other ⅔ (bomb plot line), backstories that felt a little too far fetched (K), and characterization inconsistencies (Dio) to name a few. (He was a dick in the whole game except for one specific timeline, even though his ultimate purpose remained unchanged). In addition to a very drawn out expositional beginning and unnecessarily detailed breakdowns of possible bracelet pairings at every chromatic door (just give me the options, not a 10 minute explanation to the options), the smattering of scientific and social theories like Schrodinger’s cat, the Chinese room, the velocity variance in different gravitational settings, and the laws of robots dogged the overall expositional pacing. In some cases it even made the narrative out to be a little try-hard, purporting itself as something more profound via convolution than it may really be. I don’t even know how many additional scientific theory explanations they jammed into the final hour of the game…and then I wasn’t even sure when the game did end. I had to look it up.

Another pace killer was navigating around the map during the VNS. Such movement was conveyed by a dot on a top-down projection of the facility. When you moved from one room to another you had to sit through an animation of your little dot heading down a hallway, which would then cut to a scene of a door being opened before resuming to its destination. You probably have to watch the door opening animation 100+ times before you finish the game, let alone repeated route animations several times over.

On a personal note, I also found the narrative prose shifting from character dialogue to Sigma’s internal literature-style “narration” a little off-putting and unnecessary. The game could cut 90% of those particular scripts and nothing would notably suffer for it. (Sigma was not an interesting or likable character.)

VISUAL PRESENTATION

Visually, I thought this game was extremely lackluster. Everything felt bleak, empty, and somewhat rudimentary: from backgrounds, to character models, to VNS asset framing. The argument could be made that this was “the point,” (the story is a pretty bleak premise) but I still expected more from the visuals given its forefront position in the VN genre. Looking into it, I saw the studio operated under the misconception that shifting the project from its original DS development to the new 3DS platform meant everything had to be 3D (Sadhev). Though the director himself says he was satisfied with the quality of the models, I think a lot was sacrificed in light of this decision.

Besides the escape puzzle rooms (that still lacked any genuine energy or intrigue), the main settings in this game, where you spend 90% of your time, were limited to small variants of three backgrounds: the warehouse, the AB room, and doors. The rest of the facility was resigned to an overhead diagram/map, resulting in a largely uninspiring and boring world. 

Character models lost significant personality and depth from their hand-drawn counterparts due to bland textures and geometry limitations. Animations were simple and in several cases awkward by either positioning (Alice’s hands) or texture. On Tenmyouji for example, it was quite noticeable how the mouth was more-or-less a flat image plastered onto a plane. Dio had an equally confusing “shocked” face.

Rendered event scenes looked dated, reminiscent of 15 year old PS1 graphics like in Final Fantasy VII than anything contemporary.

Amidst all this employment of 3D, voting results and character backstories still featured traditionally drawn graphics. Juxtaposing these to the less-than stellar 3D execution enforced how much more visually striking the entire title could have been if everything had remained traditionally illustrated. The hand drawn quality just evoked so much more emotion and visual intrigue.

As for the character Designs themselves, I have a different post talking about my feelings regarding those.

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References:

Sadhev, Ishaan. “Virtue’s Last Reward Director on Going 3D and the Future of Visual Novels.” Siliconera, 1 Nov. 2012, https://www.siliconera.com/virtues-last-reward-director-on-going-3d-and-the-future-of-visual-novels/.

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(I played Zero Escape: Virtue’s Last Reward on the 3DS in its original 2012 iteration, in 2024. For the sake of prose, I will be referring to Virtue’s Last Reward interchangeably with The Nonary Games.)

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What's going on with the Character Designs from Zero Escape: Virtues Last Reward???

My first and remaining impression is that these designs are all over the place. The only reason they have any sense of cohesion is because of…I don’t even know…the overall presence/weight of The Nonary Games story? Besides the artist’s style there is absolutely nothing tying these characters together visually — to each other, or to the general world of the Nonary Games. If these designs were presented to me without context I probably wouldn’t be able to tell you anything about the game, let alone think they came from the same world. Costumes felt random, determined solely by the designer’s personal taste that loosely fulfilled some generic arc-type brief (i.e Alice is the “sexy one,” and K is the “robot,” Quark is the “kid” etc). Design choices offered no insight or legitimate tie-in to characterization, roles, or backstories. Adding a single line about “being a circus ringmaster” (that isn’t even true) to Dio’s dialogue does not justify his obvious visual gimmick that had nothing to do with his actual character. Luna felt like her outfit wanted to tie in visually with Dio’s but to no substantial avail. Alice (wtaf) and Clover’s “sexy” outfits have absolutely no believable tangibility to their jobs, and what the heck is on Quark’s head? That’s never actually explained. In almost every case, it felt like the designs were more interested in being individually jarring and “technically” strong (i.e use of silhouette and self-contained motifs) than harmonious to the game’s tone, genre, or story. 

All that being said, I do acknowledge the presence of all the characters together in the promo art is certainly an effective one. Looking at the casts in the other two games (without having played them yet), it also seems like this is the style: a roster of disjointed visual archetypes. Even if that is the case, I can’t recommend this particular ensemble as a good example for cohesive cast design. 

I would also be remiss if I didn’t mention how poorly Sigma’s name has aged (in this year of our Lord 2024).

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(I played Zero Escape: Virtue’s Last Reward on the 3DS in its original 2012 iteration, in 2024. For the sake of prose, I will be referring to Virtue’s Last Reward interchangeably with The Nonary Games. Overall, I found the game more mentally pervasive than anticipated and I did enjoy it. However several elements felt frustrated in terms of presentation, visual design choices, and narrative pacing)

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Throne of Glass - Series Review

tl:dr - A true-to-genre series that delivers no ground breaking concepts but provides a marathon of enjoyable mental cardio

I recently finished reading the Throne of Glass series per a recommendation from a friend. I listened to the first 4 books and then read the remaining 4. Tower of Dawn was my favorite book from the series purely for Hasar’s line in how “she needed a fatter ass for her lover to grab at night.” I will not expand. My favorite character was probably Lysandra because of her vicious competency and unexpected plot relevance and relationship-dynamic change.

The story felt well paced with enough intrigue to keep me reading (even in the face of great irritation at the voice stylings of the audio-book*). It continuously delivered on action and visceral drama and climaxed with a satisfying conclusion to the epic 5000 page tale. The characters and world were robust and communicated effectively, albeit not entirely original. 

This is probably my greatest criticism of the series. Throne of Glass digs its heels hard into almost every trope in the YA fantasy repertoire, with a few of the author’s personal favorites becoming very apparent with how often they were used (enemies-to-lovers in some form or another applied to well over 70% of the main romances in this series). There was everything from the impossibly beautiful, dark, mysterious and deadly protagonist (whomst every man falls in love with, is near-never outsmarted, and always has a lifetime of trauma before the age of 17 including murdered parents and abuse by whipping. Why is it always whipping?); relatively generic magic systems of bursting elements; main characters “discovering” their magic for the first time then becoming immediately competent and disproportionately powerful; larger-than-life dark lords; threats of worlds plunging into darkness; prophecies; a pantheon of (revealed to be false) gods; and a generic Christmas reskin, are just a few of the additional tropes ToG employs. Most importantly however, we mustn’t leave out how almost every character significance is beautiful beyond reason, hot, sexy, incredibly competent, and always outfitted with either the most alluring curves, or hardest muscle known to the genre. Oh, and why is that fantasy heroines are always sluts for chocolate? What is that?

The heavy presence and soon-forged expectation of these tropes allowed me to skim guiltlessly over large swaths of the story, as I already knew the gist of most plot points without actually having to read them.

All that being said however, I have nothing against tropes or the use of them in storytelling, nor do I think the absence of them guarantees a good narrative. I very much enjoy reading stories that are rife with them. Some stories (i.e Not So Shoujo Love Story or any parody ever) thrive off the self-aware exploitation of tropes. However I do find the overuse of them can make it difficult for a work to really “stand apart” from any others in the same genre. This is the case for ToG. It is a very engaging world but there is nothing truly original in it. I think a reader’s steadfast allegiance to this world will largely depend on if it was the first of its kind they read.

Besides suffering additionally from little YA genre stylings, such as the overuse of the word “shit,” (specifically in this case the phrase “all went to shit,”) and a variance of dramatic transitions loosely summarized as  “all faded to black,” ToG delivers an excellent, cohesive, and engaging story worth the time of any reader looking for a YA fantasy book.

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*Now let’s talk about the audiobooks. My opinions on the audiobook performance does not impact my overall sentiment to the content, as laid out above. However! To put it bluntly, I could not stand them. The inflection, cadence, and overall delivery dripped with an arrogance and haughtiness (which, to be fair, were all very fitting for the main character) that ultimately oozed an unpleasant “pick-me”, ”middle-school cringe” energy. (Look at me! I’m so dark and mysterious and cool. I’m an ASsAsInnnnNNNN *fweu* *fweu* as I toss imaginary knives at my friends on the playground, promptly run up the steps three at a time and lift an entire chair over my head because, I’m so agile, and strong.)

Okay, that’s all. Bye bye.

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Spiritfarer Review - 8/10

Tl:dr - Spiritfarer offers a profoundly emotional story with an engaging cast of characters, beautiful artistic execution, and a sentimentally charged soundtrack. However, as a “game,” it toes the line between cozy and tedious, unfortunately falling to the latter more often than not.

—

While Spiritfarer is certainly a polished product, the core design choices reveal a system that ultimately frustrates the resource-management genre: turning cozy mundanity into monotony and, ironically, getting in the way of its own story.

Resource Efficiency is an Illusion - Resource-management games are defined by balancing early-game tedium with late-game automation/efficiency to maximize every second of gameplay. In Spiritfarer, there is a lot of unavoidable dead time (see section “Back and Forth and then Back Again”) in addition to perpetually high demands of a player’s attention just to acquire raw materials. It doesn’t matter if you’re processing your first log or your 1000th log, you have to “play” a precision cutting mini-game every time. This process can never be automated, and, even after finding the efficiency upgrade, will still require you to earnestly play the mini-game to maximize the output. Save for perhaps farming, flour processing, and cooking/fermenting, 90% of the resources in this game cannot be automated. 

Variety Does Not Guarantee “Fun” - Almost every resource has some kind of “mini-game” or drawn-out action tied to it. There are at least 12+ independent “activities” you cannot avoid in order to harvest resources. These are also scattered throughout the entirety of the vast map. While initially interesting, the activities can quickly degrade into chores. “Need to build that new house for your new passenger? Oh, you need 15 more wood first. Now you have to dedicate 5-10 minutes processing that wood, assuming you don’t first have to travel to an island out of your way to harvest it. Oh, and harvesting requires you to move your joystick back and forth in a specific way a couple of times too. Oops, can’t remember the quantity you needed for that building? Guess you have to run back to the blue-print table to check, then back to whichever facilities or islands you need to use to finish gathering the materials.” The drudgery stems from the fact that none of the “mini-games” are particularly “fun” after the first few runs.

Animation/Action Length - The animation lengths in this title are a nuisance with no way to skip or abbreviate them. Despite being expertly executed, they are unnecessarily long: often drawn out with extensive anticipated and follow through actions. When tasks and actions are expected to be performed tens, if not hundreds of times, every unnecessary second becomes increasingly aggravating. For example, shearing the sheep takes an entire 6 seconds. The initial encounter is endearing and informative: the everlight becomes the shears… the sheep is nervous to be shorn… then, in a fanciful blur of action… wool is harvested! But every single time, for only 2 pieces of wool? The animation could easily take 3 seconds or be entirely skipped after the first encounter, instead. The smithy and ore harvesting (when you accidentally overexert) were other offenders unequivocally guilty of this.

Back and Forth then Back Again - This entire game is a constant back-and-forth fetch quest with resource walls and travel distances that drive indefinite plot “intermissions,” and fatten the gameplay with “dead-time.” Take the Shipyard upgrades for example. Upgrades are required to progress the game and fulfill character requests, as many locations exist beyond geographic barriers. Assume you are ready to upgrade your ship, but when you get to the Shipyard you realize you are short on a single resource by only 1 or 2 quantities (i.e nebula thread). This single resource happens to be one you cannot farm on your boat. It also happens to be on the opposite side of the map. Even by taking the most efficient route with Alex’s bus stops, you will probably need 10-15 minutes to:

Travel to the bus stop

Sit through the fast-travel animation/loading time

Reset your navigation and wait for the ship to get to the resource location

“Play” the mini game (and hope you get enough resource in the single round)

Process the material (if needed)

Travel back to the bus stop

Wait for the fast-travel animation again

Reset your navigation back to the Shipyard and wait for the boat to travel (again)

Wait for the boat to “anchor” and the dinghy to become available

Finally pay for the upgrade.

This is a very common step analysis for almost every story-oriented task in this game; it is an example of a process that can never be made more efficient beyond anticipatory farming.

In many cases however, even that cannot mitigate the amount of time you spend bouncing between one or two locations multiple times just to get a few seconds of plot-significant exchange for a single character. Exacerbate this with forced anchoring at night*. Why? I am here for the story, but I can’t complete requests unless I can bounce between locations, which I want to do as efficiently as possible but can’t when I’m forced to anchor at night and waste 30 more seconds pressing unnecessary buttons to “sleep.” Even your boat becomes tedious to cross. As you progress your boat will get bigger, and bigger, and bigger, and bigger; to the point it can take 10s of seconds to get from one end to the other just to harvest, activate, or deliver something. It may not sound like a big deal, but again, considering this game’s strongest quality is its story, all the “dead-time” compounds and gets in its own way.

*iykyk

Is It All Worth It? - When you finally do reach those coveted character moments and dialogues –the glimpses into their background, their life, loves, and regrets –it’s almost worth it. The soft world building and sentimentality are expertly infused into every line, and intrigue for the characters is genuine. Accompany this with the calming yet powerful soundtrack, I cried at several of their goodbyes. I only wish the game itself, in its (mostly) uninspiring tedium, wasn’t such an obstacle to these moments. It ultimately succeeded in killing my motivation to finish the game, which I heard takes an average of 30 hours to complete.

In conclusion, Spiritfarer offers a truly intriguing premise and narrative, but, as articulated by a friend, the question becomes, “Was ‘game’ really the best way to tell this story?”

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The Animators - Book Review

Tl:dr - On top of the characters being largely unlikable, the production timeline described for the characters’ animated film is so egregiously misinformed and offensive I found my willingness to suspend belief forfeit.

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This is a book about a couple of animators pouring their entire beings into their work and being recognized for it. Readers get long drawn-out narratives and meandering ups and downs (mostly downs) of their life together as business and creative partners. The story is told from the perspective of only one of the partners (Sharon).

There are a myriad of reasons I did not like this book both in terms of literary style (*purely a personal preference, the author should get credit for doing the do technically well) and characterization.

The characters are incredibly unlikable and irritating – toxic, immature, and impulsive with no measurable proclivity for considering “maybe I should try to be a better person.” They act and speak rashly, often betraying unbelievable selfishness and the psyche of an incredibly immature teenager. Which could be fine, if it weren’t for them being in their 30’s. I found myself constantly yelling “grow up please!”

In addition, the sheer amount, and lack of self-control, concerning substance abuse, hurtful statements, and destructive behaviors – all attributed (understandably) to their difficult upbringings becomes increasingly grating when they seem to forgo responsibility for their actions in lieu of blaming their circumstances.

All of that aside, let’s get to the real reason (and only important reason) I did not like this book.

The book is called The Animators. You would expect a book called The Animators to have some semblance of a realistic production timeline for a full-length animated film. This book does not do this.

This story expects you to believe that a two woman team (and only two) work tirelessly to bring a full 70-75 minute feature film to life in less than two years. The details are thus:

The project is traditionally animated (the first half accomplished completely by traditional means with onionsskins etc)

Only two people are working on it (maybe there was a little bit of help from an eager fan of their work, but nothing realistically substantial)

All this work was accomplished with one of the individuals regularly sleep-deprived, mal-nourished, and a little coked up

(this is the real doozy) The other half of this two woman team (that wasn’t coked up) was actively recovering from a stroke in which she temporarily lost, and had to relearn, how to speak, read, walk, and draw.

The moment my suspension of belief completely gave way however, was when the characters were in Louisville, Kentucky. During this time they essentially start the serious work on their project. After the three month mark they are showing off their first full 20 minutes of their film. We are to assume that this 20 minutes is fully animated, composited, and overlaid with sound. Not just an animatic.

I-M-P-O-S-S-I-B-L-E.

20 seconds could probably be achieved in two to three months by an animator of their supposed caliber. Never 20 minutes under traditional methods with only two people. (Did I mention one of them was still recovering from a stroke?) And then the story goes on to confirm that the movie was a full 70-75 minutes long and that the characters finished, published, and were on tour for it in less than 2 years after its inception.

A project of the described magnitude, under the conditions assumed, would take a minimum of 5-7 years, unless the animation was just really scratchy, choppy, and unrefined (which again, was implied to not be.)

This gross misrepresentation of the amount of time traditional animation actually takes is to the narrative’s detriment: completely ripping the reader out of any sort of believable reality (at least, if the reader has any personal experience with the medium).

To be dramatic, I would even say it’s downright offensive.

I’m mostly writing this review because I haven’t seen any other review yet actually call out this aspect of the book. (I searched for one).

That’s all folks. Have a nice night. Read it if you want.

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Honest "Death’s Door" Review - *7/10*

Tl:dr - A good game that delivers a challenging and polished souls-like gaming experience, however its choices in story/world building; repetitive dungeon structure; and lack of simple navigational tools detracted from a thoroughly enjoyable adventure for me.

OVERVIEW

Overall Presentation - A clean, polished game with well developed systems and beautiful art. Combat is challenging but not impossible, and visual style is graphic and engaging without being too juvenile.

Music - Wonderful soundtrack. Each area boasts a variety of fun thematic instruments. I found tunes and arrangements very reminiscent of Okami.

Gameplay - Challenging combat that rewards patience, with a variety of ranged and melee weapons a player can interchange fluently in battle to fit their personal fighting style. Puzzles are balanced, never crossing into so-hard-lose-interest territory. The game can be 100%-ed in a reasonable time without guides if one chooses to do so.

Despite my initial impression, the shrines were also fun riddles to solve. I loved the local pub's “hearsay” method with “Jefferson” at the Sunken Sailor. It was a fun touch of flavor and helped make the shrines feel tangible.

3 MAJOR CRITICISMS FOR DEATH’S DOOR

Game progression is extremely linear and dungeon structure lacks core differentiation. Each dungeon’s objectives are structured the same way: you explore an area and fight through mini-boss rooms to free 5 crow souls. These unlock the next power upgrade via almost identical combat challenges. This is followed immediately by ascension to the final stage of a dungeon; concluding with the boss fight. While each dungeon offered their own unique puzzles and layouts, the lack of variety in objectives started to feel more like a checklist than an exciting opportunity for discovery. It’s worth noting as well, the game is linear (Urn Witch > Frog King > Betty) as each previous level provides you with a necessary upgrade to access the next challenge.

The lack of a map made the experience of exploring vast areas (extremely) frustrating. This frustration was exacerbated in the world-scouring post game collect-a-thon. The fact that a map was not even an option was incredibly infuriating to me. I understand the creators of the game declared their creative choice “promoted as organic of a gaming experience as possible,” and aligned themselves further with the “souls-like” label, however it does not feel like an infallible decision. Take Hollow Knight to compare and contrast this. Maps were provided throughout the game but the player was also given the choice of how much they wanted to engage with, or take advantage of the map. Maps had to be purchased, making it entirely possible for a player to forgo it completely if they chose to do so. There was also a balanced trade-off of forfeiting an equipment slot to attach the Wayward Compass charm for effective use of the map. Death’s Door doesn’t even give you the option.

The game’s narrative feels hollow, lacking in any commendable character depth or motivation. Essential world lore is delivered too late, is confusing, and detracts from the drama’s overall impact. I finished the game feeling underwhelmed by the plot despite the game’s (self)positioning as a prolific drama.

(spoiler alert) - I found myself floundering to feel anything for the final act, or to really make sense of the world’s logic and lore between the end of act two and beginning of act three. From what I currently understand (having 100%-ed the game) the world, since coming under the rule of the current Lord Of Doors, became a place of stagnation… Most, if not all (?) creatures were living unreasonably long lives (past their “due dates”) because the Lord of Doors cut off Death itself from the worlds, and subsequently the Crow Commission (who had assumed Death’s role of reaping souls). With no no one reaping souls, nobody was actually dying? But then why was the Grey Crow aging with the threat of death looming over him? Or why did all the crows who got cut off from the commission die? Or how were the free-crow’s movement for that matter, that promoted the natural order of embracing death, actually fulfill their own creed? I should not be this confused or have this many questions at the explanation of the state-of-the-world after playing the game for 20 hours.

Secondly, many of the significant “reveals” in the 3rd act felt underwhelming. Starting with the “Free Crows” movement (a trope-ish rebel group that “fights the system”). Their presence and justification provided almost all the context to the world’s supposed stagnation. Thus, their late-game reveal (almost the end of act two) caused me to completely reevaluate and question if I had understood anything from the soft world-building up to that point. Their motivations felt generic as well, and lacked any kind of originality or robustness. Additionally, the pacing between defeating the Grey Crow and the sudden “call-to-arms” from the Free Crows felt very jarring and like the story was just trying to quickly wrap things up. It did not feel justified.

Death’s reveal was equally underwhelming. His reveal should have felt like a reward for the arduous efforts it took to open his door. His reveal should have left me feeling like I finally had answers… but because I was not aware the world was “stagnated” until moments before I encountered him, his presence felt confusing, and honestly, a little insignificant to me.

As for the final two bosses, the Grey Crow and the Lord of Doors, another reviewer captured the narrative's failure best: It felt like the story was telling me to care about these characters more than actually giving me substantial experience with them to want to care about them. I found myself uninterested in the final boss’ motivations in lieu of just wanting to finish the game. 

All these things considered, it really boils down to me not finding the lore of this game’s world particularly compelling*.

CONCLUSION

In conclusion, Death’s Door is a quick (10-20 hours, including post-game) adventure challenge that offers a polished gaming experience, and pleasant visuals and soundtrack. Combat will leave you gnashing your teeth if you don’t employ a little patience, solidifying its position as a “souls-like” game. I would definitely say it’s worth your time if you enjoy games like that. If you’re looking for a more compelling world-lore, convicting story or just better navigation support however, I would recommend something like Hollow Knight instead.

—

*Even the “truth” revealed after completing the post game did not feel like it added any significant detail or insight into the story. For how much effort it demanded to unlock, it was another narrative disappointment.

One exception exists however with the Gravedigger. He was by far the most compelling character. His sad story was the only one that drew an actual reaction from me when I realized just who “Monty” was (hint, look at the shiny-thing locket you find). His final battle was the most satisfying and his emotional departure felt wonderfully delivered.

[extracontentmediareviews]

AA Spirit of Justice - Game Review

Tl:dr - A visual and symphonic triumph, this title delivers on striking visuals, a beautiful score, and a wacky, colorful cast innate to the AA DNA. Though there is absence of robust worldbuilding, the story is engaging, ending with an epic finale episode. 

Spirit of Justice is one of the longest titles in mainline Ace Attorney games, clocking in at an average of 25-30 hours of gameplay. It features a cross oceanic adventure that takes up courtroom calls in the familiar “Japanafornia,” but also in the new Asianic/Tibetan-inspired Kingdom of Khura’in. 

Visually and symphonically this game is an absolute triumph. The game falls in line with the latest generation of Ace Attorney games, defined by immaculate employ of 3D graphics and animations. State-side character designs and animations are some of the brightest, wackiest, and most memorable of the entire series. I have found over the years the AA witness designs I reminisce over the most tend to come from this game. The main eastern counterparts are equally visually striking, albeit not as compelling or memorable as they could have been (more on that later). 

The music, per usual, metered and complimented the world and narrative beautifully. From sentimental originals like Reminiscence: Inherited Hopes, to new cultural sounds of Defendant’s Lobby and reorchestrations of classics Allegro, Pursuit, and Troupe Gramarye, there was never a reason to turn the volume down.

Gameplay wise, the game functions virtually the same as all the previous titles with the addition of “Seance Divinations.” This new mechanic allows you to behold the final memories of the deceased…in order to point out contradictions in classic AA fashion. A neat thought, however not entirely memorable or largely contributive to the gameplay as a whole. If anything, it just provides another venue for player frustration at “obscure logic” to manifest (I’m looking at you “man’s voice”).

Most importantly however, as it comes to AA games, how is the story? As I mentioned before, this game is an average of 7 hours longer than your typical AA game. It features 5 episodes instead of the usual 4, bouncing between East and West to give all protagonists equal facetime. 

The first episode acts to establish the new Kingdom of Khura’in and the Divination Seance. It is quick, orientational, and full of excellent characters. My main criticism would be the generally insufferable characterization of Nick as the worst kind of tourist.* 

The second case brings you back “home” and treats fans to classic Apollo/Trucy shenanigans and more Troupe Gramarye lore. 

The (infamous) third episode returns you to the land of Khura’in to solve an unfortunately drawn-out and convoluted tale of death supported by a cast of uninspiring, vanilla characters. Its purpose was to establish plot points for the final episode. However, I’m not totally convinced they were necessary for the final episode to land as well as it did. For that reason, the main purpose of episode three was actually to celebrate the return of Maya Fey in the most Maya way possible: Maya getting accused of murder…again! 

The fourth episode brings you back stateside for a quick one day cross-examination of kooky rakugo school students helmed by Athena and special guest Simon Blackquill. It’s a rather inconsequential episode in terms of overall plot, but I found it delightful nonetheless. 

The game finally wraps up with its piece de resistance final act —Turnabout Revolution. This episode was a diligent convergence of East and West, giving both settings equal presence and relevance to the final arc. Not only did it lean into AA legacy locations/references like Kurain Village, but, much like Luke Atmey’s larceny case from Trials and Tribulations, the courtroom battle deviates from the typical murder-trial cadence. In the first act of Turnabout Revolution, Apollo and Phoenix go head to head in a civil dispute case. Gone are the too-oft’ drawn out rebuttals, ad-hominem attacks, and tangents on incompetency from the prosecution. In its place, a steady, well paced, respectful exchange is had between attorneys. The first case concludes on an ambiguously sinister note that forces the characters to deadhead east to Khura’in. It is in this new setting the final compelling plot twists, hard-hitting sentimentality, and absolutely stunning character designs are revealed.

MAIN CRITICISM

For as compelling and inspiring the final act was, there was much left wanting in this title as a whole. I think this is largely due to the Kingdom of Khura'in’s lamentable lack of depth and cultural development. Visually and musically it is executed beautifully, but nevertheless remains skin-deep. There is little for world-building fans to sink their teeth into. Consequently, characterization and story intrigue are sacrificed. 

While I could comment on the gimmicky religion that is too often treated with the reverence of parody, I would prefer to focus on what I perceive to be the largest under-miner to what could have been a robust Khura’in.

There was a notable lack of consideration taken towards the use of the Khur’ainese language. Sure, there is a word or two, the suggestion of a written language, and Sahdmadhi had that one VA line (that didn’t even sound like a convincing language), but nothing sociologically compelling. The names are some of the laziest puns in the entire series, opting to just drop letters and add apostrophes to existing English words. They are entertaining, but forfeit opportunities for a believable culture in lieu of a quick laugh.

Imagine the intrigue that could be infused if two Khura’inese characters (Dhurke and Datz for example) converse in <Khura’inese> in front of Nick. It would enforce the feeling of Nick being a foreigner in a foreign land and that the Kingdom of Khura’in is its own legitimate ecosystem. *Having characters converse in their native language in front of Nick would also help abate the irritating characterization of him as the “self-righteous,” boisterous, and meddling foreigner. The lack of basic tourist etiquette killed me during this game. I understand Phoenix is the main character, but sometimes taking a third person perspective to a country sorting out their own problems makes for a much stronger narrative.

Now let’s take a look at Apollo as another example of how the use of a <foreign language> could add more character depth. The man grew up in a foreign country and doesn’t talk about it — that is fascinating. Now imagine if the use of foreign language was mixed into how that story was revealed. What if, instead of just his father showing up after 10+ years in the Wright Anything Agency office saying, “Hi Son! Long time no see,” he said, “<Hi Son! Long time no see>,” and then Apollo responds in (rusty) Khura’inese, “<What are you doing here?>”  We would all become Trucy Wright in that moment, and the question wouldn’t just be, “How do you know this man?” It would bloom into, “How did you understand what this man said?”, “Wait, Apollo speaks a foreign language?” Then it would become “How do you know this man?” etc. The intrigue and layers this interaction alone could add to Apollo as a character are there for the taking…if only a second longer was taken to incorporate the use of <Khura'inese>.

Finally, the choice to not employ accents in the voice acting of the Khura'inese characters (Dhurke, Rayfa, Datz, Ahlbi, Guards etc) feels nothing short of lazy. The use of accents would have added a nice touch of texture to the already visually striking characters. If a game like Dragon Quest VIII can cast a variety of generically “foreign” accents to even its minor characters, there’s no legitimate reason the citizens of Khura’in should be depicted with the flattest American accents imaginable.

In conclusion, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney – Spirit of Justice is a solid title to the main series. Though it suffers from weak world-building, its story is still largely compelling and enjoyable to play!

[extracontentmediareviews]

Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright - Game Review

Tl:dr - Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright presents an inspiring and enchanting world beautifully executed and scored. Even where the story fails in its egregiously drawn-out third act and glaring plot holes, I constantly find myself returning to this title to be visually and musically inspired. 

In regards to game play, Professor Layton vs Ace Attorney provides enough intrigue for veteran players of either series while also serving as a soft introduction for newcomers.

My first interaction with Ace Attorney was several years prior to me stumbling upon this title…probably 2008-9ish. However, I had never spent more than an hour with it. It wasn’t until one lazy summer day in 2015, while wandering the ways of Walmart I found this game. It intrigued me with its catchy box art and semi-familiar brand name. I remember thinking to myself, “I know about Ace Attorney (sort of). And I’ve heard Professor Layton is quite popular…why not?” Almost immediately following the completion of this game I purchased and played every single mainline AA game up to that point. I was sold. Professor Layton on the other hand…I decided was less up my alley after playing an additional 1.5 titles (Miracle Mask and 2 hours in The Curious Village). With this in mind, my review below will reflect thoughts colored as an AA fan rather than a PL fan.

Review

First and foremost, how does this game stand on its own without regard for the brand names and gameplays it leverages? 

The music in this game is beautiful: catchy, pleasant, and memorable, with absolutely gorgeous medleys and mash-ups of each series’ iconic themes. It’s as if these series were meant to exist together.

Visually, this game is a masterpiece. The characters, design, and style — the world of Labyrinthia — is so enchantingly rendered and visually engaging with just the right touch of whimsy. The overall color pallets were sophisticated without forfeiting color or brightness — like that of a classic children’s storybook. The use of 3D graphics brought a unique charm to the entire presentation too — one that would become a pleasant staple in all future AA games. For the puzzle sections, there was an absolutely adorable chibi execution in both 2D and 3D drawings, along with delightfully whimsical illustrations for the non 3D elements.

The character designs in this title were also highly inspiring, both in terms of concept and visual execution. I have not encountered another AA game to date that pushed the idea of “witness singularity” quite as uniquely as the 10-as-1 Vigilantes. Though the commonplace humor and banter between Nick and his clients/opposition was largely toned down in comparison to his native titles, I found the trade-off for competent (and likable) prosecution quite agreeable. Inquisitor Barnham was such a breath of fresh air from the, what I feel to be too often, narratively pumped up prosecutors that specialize in throwing out mundane objections dipped in ad-hominem attacks (Franziska, Sahdmadhi, Barok van Zieks etc). Dare I say, Barnham actually felt competent as a prosecutor, unlike Franziska. Then there’s Darklaw — I love everything about this character. Her name, her concept, her (real) name, her outfit (specifically the regalia version), her personality, her presence, her voice. I can’t tell if I want to be her or want to be her girlfriend. As far as Espella and the Storyteller… they were the least compelling characters in the game as she was lackluster and he was just an a**hole they tried to redeem at the very end.

Gameplay-wise, this title offers the puzzles of Layton and the courtrooms of AA. I’ve seen other reviewers largely agree the puzzles are collectively easier in this game than in other Layton titles. Personally, I didn’t mind this. I thought they were engaging enough without becoming too much a narrative roadblock to the plot like I felt they were when I played Miracle Mask. Maybe this isn’t the title to pick up if you want to spend a solid 20 minutes figuring out a single puzzle, but it’s a decent taste to what you can expect from an exclusively PL game. And regardless, it’s still largely enjoyable. The courtroom battles of AA are also a little more succinct than what you could expect from a full fledged AA game, but I still found them fun, engaging, and a decent representation to the AA experience. Until the last act…

As visually compelling as this story is, the narrative is where I find this title fumbles the most. The premise holds great promise for ⅗ of the game (yes, that number is chosen very specifically) but the final act, in both its telling and gameplay, is unnecessarily convoluted and drawn out. The third act is almost longer than the first two acts combined (hence the ⅗), and not for good reason. There are several instances where you are forced to trudge through 2+ hours of interrogation that position the dialogue for the “dramatic reveal” you, as the player, already figured out an hour and a half prior. This happens in AA games regularly (the player figuring out the plot twist before the game does), but never to this degree of offense. It doesn’t help either when much of this interrogation feels like the developers mistaking convoluted storytelling for gameplay. The number of times you have to “press” statements, and re-”press” statements (in which little to no new dialogue was added from the character being pressed) is absurd. On top of that, the story just wouldn’t end. This is a common frustration I encounter concerning Japanese storytelling in video games and anime: where 2-3 additional “twists” and drawn-out explanations for things are jammed into the final act just to extend the conclusion by another hour or two. There’s an art to knowing when to end things. 

Back to the narrative’s conclusion however…yes, it ties its bow on all the major questions itself purports, but this sense of satisfaction is short lived in the face of two glaring plot holes.

*spoiler warning*

I’ll keep this brief. The people of Labyrinthia are hypnotized by exposure to a special ink, and through that hypnosis they are unable to perceive pure black. For that reason, the bell tower draped in a pure black tarp, and a bunch of machinery used to simulate “miracles” and “magic” remain imperceivable by the denizens. However, the hypnosis only makes the objects “invisible,” it does not actually remove or displace the mass of the objects. Shadows (I hope you see where I’m going with this) are not pure black, and would therefore be visible. Labyrinthia isn’t just some simulation, it exists— outside and exposed to the elements. Outside where the sun is. Outside where the light from the sun would cause objects to cast shadows. All that machinery that existed in Labyrinthia, though imperceivable to the eye, would still cast very noticeable shadows…everywhere. On top of that, you expect me to believe that no one, in an entire decade, accidentally crashed into the hidden belltower while crossing what they perceived to be an empty clearing? 

*spoiler over*

Admittedly, these plot holes are cleverly disguised with the dramatic and emotional climaxes of the story, and don’t cause the entire experience to implode... until several minutes into the credits. There, as you ruminate the revelations, the flawed logic may just begin to naw at you. In conclusion, if you can look past the plot holes of the narrative, this game still offers a (temporarily) satisfying conclusion. The game is fun and the game is beautiful. It’s definitely a title worth playing regardless of your familiarity with the properties.

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My thoughts on LEGENDS AND LATTES (because no one asked)

Tl:dr - A cozy Stardew Valley Vibe book.

The catchphrase for this story is an accurate summation – it’s very high fantasy and very low stakes. It slows down the typical fate-of-the-world storyline of high fantasy novels and brings it to a calming day-to-day-Stardew-Valley vibe. It’s a light, fun, feel-good story with enough plot to keep you engaged.I thoroughly enjoyed this book, but have two main critiques.

The first: a few areas of the narrative became very repetitive, most notably with the gradual development of the café’s baked goods menu. After the initial cinnamon roll reveal, every subsequent dessert followed a similar narrative pattern (and length) of description > reaction > conclusion. It felt long winded and unnecessary. In addition, the descriptions of the character’s reactions to the confections would get borderline sexual…stop that.

Second, the romance aspect was forced. I’m not going to say it wasn’t necessary but it did feel “tacked on” in the third act. For me, this undermined its believability.

Ok, thanks. Bye.