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Fragments of Forgotten Message Board Posts

Dragon Quest wasn’t always my favorite RPG series (I have three favorite RPG series right now). But here is a short story with a couple of twists and turns about how it became my favorite; also, this story is my personal retrospective review of Dragon Quest 7.
My first memory of Dragon Quest, before it became the series that makes my heart feel full, was a short preview of Dragon Quest 6 from the EGM import corner. I must have known about Dragon WARRIOR much earlier than that (even though we never had a Nintendo I was sufficiently FF-enthused to know about the Big Rival to Final Fantasy) but memories work in funny ways and that’s the one I have. I remember the caption on the screenshot pointed out how impressive it was that there were so many items on the bookshelves. I remember thinking this game looked so incredible, and how if it was anywhere as good as “Final Fantasy III” that it was going to be a must play.
But how was I going to play it? The answer, in 1995, was to have a best friend who went to Asia every summer and brought back dozens of carts and CDs each time. One of those carts was Dragon Quest 6, and once I scooped out my Super Nintendo’s innards to allow myself the ability to play, I was treated to an evocative campfire and SNES strings and a dream-like atmosphere that was everything I’d hoped for. I could only manage to get through a few hours of it without any JP language skills, but that was more than enough to leave a lasting impression.
I know that Dragon Quest 6 is a weird answer to the question of the first Dragon Quest you played. I’m not one of the NES kids who started with Dragon Warrior, or any who started later with the ports on Gameboy Color, or anyone who started even later with the ports on DS or 8 on PS2 or 11. I began my affair with Dragon Quest with expectations that this series had top of the line production values, and so this may begin to explain the mindset with which I approached Dragon Quest 7.
DRAGON WARRIOR VII is a game I bought at launch on my six year old Playstation after years of waiting, ready to experience this storied series in English for the first time. I don’t know why I didn’t know about any of the GBC ports, but despite some trepidation at the environmental visuals I was excited to start. And for the first 40 hours or so, I had a wonderful time. The structure was so intriguing to me, the battle scaling so modest but compelling. However, by Hour 100 (this is a period of time in my life in which every RPG I played got finished no matter what) my attitude about the game and Dragon Quest in general reached the point where 10 years later I was still sufficiently … passionate enough to make message board posts like this:
So the upshot here is that Dragon Quest 7 was a game that made me resent a series I was supposed to love, which in my mind made this game unforgivable. Months after making this post I would finally play Dragon Quest 5 on PS2 on my laptop and my love for the series would skyrocket further (one day I will write an essay about that perfect game and the lengths I went to more perfectly play it). And then one year after that they would announce a remake of DQ7 for Nintendo 3DS.
This announcement. Rather than do what everyone was expecting and churn out yet another DS-engine (which was based on the OG DQ7 engine!) “remake”, this was a full visual overhaul with 3D cutscene direction, maps for all dungeons, a fragment finder, and symphonic soundtrack. In other words, a remake that addressed virtually every complaint I had with my original DQ7 experience.
Time to briefly return to that original DQ7 experience. How to reflect on my memories of that playthrough? The memories I had when I made that angry post? The memories of making that angry post? The memories I have today? The truth about that experience is that I played DQ7 in the worst possible way you could play it. The game felt boring and repetitive to me in the back half because I marathoned it all at once over the course of a few weeks. The characters felt lifeless to me because I never actually used party chat (and party chat was more limited in the PSX version). The music began to grate on me because I wasn’t listening to dreamy Super Nintendo strings or more crucially, the full symphonic soundtrack I would later associate so strongly with so many of my personal Dragon Quest experiences.
And what about those vignettes I called charmless and dull? Well, even by 2014 I was hedging on that, wondering in message board posts if the visual and sonic revamp with actual cutscene direction would allow these stories to leave more of an impact for me. The ultimate answer to my hypothesis was unequivocally, yes, these stories left more of an impact for me.
I’m never the one you’ll hear arguing against a game giving you friction (my other favorite RPG series is SaGa), but in this case all of the QOL smoothing in the remake, the fragment finder, the previous event summary, the in-game mapping, the tablet consolidation, all of this allows you the space to refocus your attention on the game’s most potent strengths. Rather than leaving you with a sensation of oppressively aimless retreading and a feeling of being lost (and not feeling lost in the good way, like many of my favorites in my other other favorite RPG series, which is the one this tumblr was supposed to be exclusively about) the smoothness of play lets you see the slowly unspooling world (love a psx rpg with a slowly unspooling world!!) not as a constellation of chores but for what it truly is.
That true and modest spirit of Dragon Quest, these warmly human fables that are meant to linger with you, that one line buried in party chat that is meant to devastate you, a nested series of stories that build and connect over time until you’re left marvelling at the genius of the construction. When I made that post in the past, I didn’t have any memories of the story of the noble priest of Vogograd and the truth that is left to a future generation of children to build. Is it 20 years of age and experience and memories that allowed for me to find that story so moving? Or was it the space the smoothing in this remake left for me to better understand the meaning of this game?
I bought the DQ7 remake at launch five years after making that post, and I started and finished the DQ7 remake 5 years after buying it, which is, again, 20 years after I first finished it. How much time has to pass before you revisit the first Dragon Quest you ever finished, playing through the game you thought you hated, but maybe always suspected you could love? When do you allow yourself to return to old memories and then make new ones?
Time hasn’t erased every one of DQ7’s problems, there is still some dungeon padding and some repetition, and there are also new problems with occasional localization issues and symbol encounter issues. But as with any game, you form memories of flaws and memories of strengths, and if you watch the credits and listen to the symphonic credits theme and search your heart and the memories of the flaws already seem distant, then you know you’ve just played a game that is a great. Dragon Quest 7 is a great game and a great Dragon Quest. You know you truly a cherish a series when you are willing to wait until it is the perfect time to play, and time after time, whether for DQ3, or DQ5, or DQ11, DQ is the series I cherish enough to wait for. 20 years after finishing was the time I needed to revisit DQ7, and closing this loop is the perfect gift I could give to myself.
In conclusion, Square Enix please announce HD 2D DQ4 ASAP for me thank you.
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Megami Tensei where u at??

When you are down in the dumps about your favorite video game franchise and the future of a series that is special for you, sometimes you end up seeking it out in places that are … unexpected. I’m going to talk about how, over the last couple years, I ended up seeing three different flavors of Megami Tensei in three different games, and maybe by the end of this we can all end up feeling like it’s okay to move on with our lives. Just keep telling yourself that your favorite games are not your identity and it’s not that serious bruh but also tell yourself that it is therapeutic to collect many paragraphs of thoughts you have had about this to write at length about in your blog.
First up is a game that many many people have noticed is very Megaten and that is the Digimon RPG, Digimon Story: Cyber Sleuth. There was no reason at all for this to be as good of a game as it is. I have no special affinity for the cartoon show. I do not like the Devil Survivor character designer even a little bit. I do not find grinding and monster collecting for the sake of monster collecting entertaining. But from the very first trailer something seemed compelling, and as good word of mouth spread I decided this was going to be a game I needed to play.
Again, everyone has already commented on how Megaten this game feels, and for me the closest specific analogue is actually Raidou Kuzunoha. From the first extended trailer I noticed the jazzy main theme, the detective agency conceit, the visible partner monsters appearing in a Tokyo with bold camera angle choices, and felt a weird familiarity. Digimon also function very plainly as Megami Tensei demons in multiple ways, not only mechanically but also through their story roles. And the somewhat arcane stat manipulation needed for high-end Digivolving scratches the exact same itch as high-end Megaten fusion from previous SMT iterations, which is both a dangerous (100 hours of playtime good lord) and wonderful (100 hours of playtime good lord!) itch to scratch.
You need to put up with some annoying characters and prattling dialogue, but unlike other games there is no pretense here which absolutely helps. Also, re-interpreting traditional Japanese folklore through the lens of the Digimon world is something that never stopped being fascinating for me even amidst a sub-par localization, and as someone with low familiarity with the cartoon, the Digimon designs themselves were alternately hilariously bizarre, bafflingly stupid, and straight up awesome. They even have their own Lucifer!
By the time you get to the second half of the story where the game completely changes and becomes about alliances and faction-building and what happens to a city facing apocalypse, when you take in the incredible atmosphere in Odaiba all buoyed by a soundtrack that has no right to be as good as it is, you start to feel optimistic about how Megaten influence can live on even outside of the series itself.
Next up is an entry from another series that is occasionally compared to SMT, but this one in particular feels like it was only played by two or three people at all when it was miraculously released earlier in 2019 for the Nintendo 3DS. I’m talking about Yokai Watch 3. Arriving close to three years after its initial Japanese release to utterly resounding indifference, this game’s hook is that you get to play in “America,” but as you can tell from the quotes around America this is actually much more complicated than it seems in a way that specifically draws comparison to my beloved Revelations: Persona. You see, the very Japanese Yokai Watch series city location of Sakura New Town, Japon, was localized here for us as Springdale, Springdale back in the first game. This decision has led to many wonderful incongruities moving forward that are honestly identical to those in the Lunarvale of Revelations: Persona. Gotta love these small American towns with Shinto temples in em!
With Yokai Watch 3’s plot focusing on the family moving to actual America though, and the cross-cultural hijinks that are meant to ensue, things quickly get even weirder and more strained. Protagonist Nate Adams complains about the difficulty of understanding southern accents while slurping down sukiyaki. Shopkeepers with tempura-based hairstyles serve traditional Japanese dishes in the quaint American township of St. Peanutsburg. Huge timezone differences between America and “America” are introduced. And all of this is refracted through the even more convoluted localization prism of this game about two versions of America being scripted by the British, leading to children aspiring to be “basketballers” and restaurants having “oriental” atmosphere.
I’m barely scratching the surface of the dissertation-worthy unpacking needed for all of this, and it’s difficult to describe just how deeply weird the vibe can get in this game. In just the first twenty minutes of Yokai Watch 3, you have 1) a purely nutso anime opening featuring scary demonic folklore-based yokai, robots, and cat mascots 2) Mulder and Scully very seriously discussing mysterious “Y Files” 3) a rhythm game where your very American family devours an enormous amount of sukiyaki 4) the same very American (or in the game’s terms, “Springdalian”) family leaving their home to move to the state? country? of “BBQ” and 5) suddenly you are an otaku girl going to a figure shop in “Sparkopolis.” This is just as delirious as it sounds.
Revelations Persona’s uncanny America atmosphere may be one of a kind, but Yokai Watch 3’s frequently insane scenarios can sometimes recall a similar sort of lunacy that leads you to end up fighting a giant mechanical rat while a song with the track name “Child Abuse” plays, or chatting up a populace of mole-covered rainbow afro’d citizens in a locked down mall. At one point after returning from one of Yokai Watch 3’s various alternate dream worlds (very Persona!) my game was even afflicted with a commonly reported glitch that caused the environmental textures to not load, leading to a flat polygon world and some authentic PSX Lunarvale vibes. Throw in all the folktales and mythology involved in the yokai themselves and straight up demon fusion in a cathedral and suddenly you’ll end up experiencing more Megaten than you’d ever expect to see in an RPG targeted to young children.
Last up is an all-time classic that actually predates Shin Megami Tensei entirely, making it temporally impossible for any influence to show up, which muddles the entire concept of this essay but please roll with it you guys this is just how I feel. I’m talking about the seminal Phantasy Star, for the Master System, which I played through M2’s loving, impeccable SEGA AGES port on Switch. This game, which was released in 1987, is simply incredible. Right off the bat you’ve got genius-level programming from Yu Suzuki himself, which allowed for the first person dungeons to scroll so smoothly that posting a snippet of directly captured footage from the game can still lead to semi-viral tweets. It’s these extremely cool boldly colored first person dungeons, along with the expansive feeling of the several worlds you visit that led me to feel some of the spirit of Megami Tensei 2 specifically in this game.
“oops i accidentally phantasy starred for four hours” is how I put it playing through this game for the first time, and it’s a given that a non-fantasy setting RPG where you can talk to the monsters would be appealing to me. Phantasy Star as a series was in fact deliberately conceptualized as a rebellion against the many fantasy RPGs of the time, and the developers have talked about this in a way that is practically identical to early staff interviews about the goals for Megami Tensei. Director and gaming luminary Rieko Kodama has remarked that the choice of a female protagonist was also considered rebellious, even though it felt like a natural choice for her on a personal level.
Megami Tensei 2 is the game that builds the structure for Shin Megami Tensei as we know it today, moving away from Megami Tensei 1’s single full-game dungeon format to a world map with numerous discrete dungeons and eventually, paths to alternate worlds. Phantasy Star shares this exact design format, which still feels so expansive and impressive to this day. It’s a treat to get to experience a game like this over 30 years after its release on current hardware and still feel such an impact, and all of you need to go out and buy buy buy this game, seriously give M2 your money.
I’ve taken it as a given that everyone shares my perspective on where Shin Megami Tensei is at these days as a series, and it’s obviously never a good look to come across as an over-dramatic scolding bitter old who has retreated into pure irrelevance. But by documenting all of these observations down for myself, I can at least feel better about finding bits and pieces of various Megaten strains in the games of today. The lesson learned is that even if you feel your favorite franchise has lost its way, you may be able to find parts of it in the places you least expect.
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Majin Tensei 2 and Shin Megami Tensei If… let’s talk about them

This past year saw the fan translation release of two 16-bit Megaten games, Shin Megami Tensei If… (lord help me if I need to type this ellipsis every time) and Majin Tensei 2. I am maybe the only person who decided to play through both of these games for the first time in English in one year, and so maybe it will be instructive to see how these two series black sheep (can you call a game a black sheep if no one has actually played it?) fit together in the context of the larger franchise. Or maybe this is just an ungainly excuse to cobble together months-old observations into blog content. Let’s find out!!
Both of these games come from a period when Atlus was still trying to figure things out from a game design perspective, testing how much they could push their console audience with PC dungeon crawler inspirations. There were no compunctions at this point about making unforgiving design choices, even in their crowning achievement mainline series games. Sometimes this worked, like the lack of guidance in Shin Megami Tensei 1 leading to perfectly tuned feelings of lonely exploration. Sometimes this didn’t quite work, like the tedious backtracking and brutally untelegraphed stat skill check requirements of Shin Megami Tensei 2. “Getting Megaten’d” is a message board expression meant to describe the sudden game overs that can occur in this series after hours of play, so it’s not as if unforgiving punishment is something that has been eradicated from the more modern games. But there’s a reason even many Megafans (yes i just said megafans, please deal with that) refuse to play anything in this franchise that released before the Playstation 2, and it’s because of choices that are perceived as promoting tedium and time-wasting. We’ve seen how this can affect their big marquis mainline successes, but what happens when you apply these principles to dicier spinoffs? Well…
Majin Tensei 2 is at least, quite conceptually ambitious. Spanning numerous worlds and time periods, showcasing political intrigue and explicitly defined characters with varying motivations, five distinct endings across light-dark and law-chaos axes, hidden events that depend on how many turns you take and which demons you have in your party, there is a lot (too much!) to keep track of. There are ideas in Majin Tensei that pre-sage much of what makes up Devil Survivor, from demon races with differing map skills to introducing demon fusion to a strategy RPG space that was mainly just Shining Force and Front Mission. In practice though, what you do repeatedly in Majin Tensei 2 is slowly s l o w l y clear fifty plus maps, maps that will occasionally provide fun challenges, but more often that not will repeat large not particularly memorable landmasses with simply hellish amounts of monsters. Seriously look at this screenshot I took, this is less than one third of the map!

There’s a reason that so many volunteer debuggers dropped out during playtesting, and there is a reason that 100% of the ones who persevered used fast forwarding emulation features to finish. This is because Majin Tensei 2’s sluggishness can be linked to the infamous Code Name: S.T.E.A.M. problem, S.T.E.A.M. being a largely unloved Intelligent Systems strategy game on 3DS that was raked over the coals in reviews for allowing enemy phases to go on for inordinate amounts of time. Majin Tensei 2 does that game one better by allowing literal minutes and minutes to pass as each enemy decides its action one by one. Do you remember that map in the screenshot above? Imagine twice as many enemies as that taking 10 seconds each to complete their own turn. Majin Tensei 2 makes it clear that you are absolutely not supposed to kill every enemy, through turn limit bonuses and appeals to your general sanity. But that still doesn’t stop the game from dumping demons haphazardly across each map in the manner of someone pounding the bottom of a trashcan to make sure every piece of refuse has tumbled out. So even if you are trying to be efficient, with each passing turn you’re going to be dealing with plenty of downtime.
So yes, the game is cruel. Just to take one example, Majin Tensei 2 spends the whole game teaching you that you need to keep someone tough at your home base even if you think you are safe, since at any moment some sort of aerial demon can sweep in from 12 spaces across the map to occupy it and end your game. And then in one level 40 chapters or so in, the game will punish you for keeping anyone behind at your home base by spawning multiple inaccessible dragon type demons who will one shot anyone who was trying to hold down the fort no matter what (did I mention that this game has instant permadeath for all demons and instant game over for any of your five human characters, five humans whom you cannot possibly level up sufficiently to all be able to survive multiple demon attacks?). Majin Tensei 2 is willing to mess with you to the extent that it absolutely wants you to cheat. After all, this is a game that in 1995, allowed you to save after every turn, which is another way of the designers telling you that savestate abuse (or in my case, copious use of the rewind button) is built into the design.
So why put up with this sort of nonsense? Well, for one, you’re dealing with the atmosphere of a 16-bit Atlus game, a combination of visuals, sound design, music and tone that is simply unlike anything else in the industry. And there is absolutely satisfaction to be found in slowly conquering the game’s maps. But those who scoff at something like, say, Soul Hackers, will find this game absolutely impenetrable, which likely means it will only ever be played through by advance Megatenists (okay i changed it to this, are you happy). Majin Tensei 2 tries to do quite a bit, switching up much even from its direct predecessor, and the play experience ends up suffering despite the ambition.
SMT If in comparion, well … If is by far the least ambitious game in the series to date. While Majin Tensei 2 lavishes you with cool unique digitized photo backgrounds, an extraordinary soundtrack with lengthy moody electronica from the late great Hidehito Aoki, and spectacular boss sprites, SMT if reuses all the most drab and uninspired wall textures from its predecessors, and offers absolutely nothing in terms of new music. Worse yet, many of the reused tracks have somehow depreciated in the conversion. Listen to the offkey shrillness of the iconic Ginza music here , seriously what did they do to it!?. If does feature some lovely new boss sprites, showcasing demons from rarer mythologies that were never again revisited (where are all my Persians at ATLUS???), but even some of the best of these are hidden in new game plus routes the average player will likely never see. The general fugliness of the overall game and relentless asset reuse gives the whole experience a very unfortunate rom-hack feel, and though it’s not hard to figure out why the game ended up this way (it was cranked out less than 9 months after SMT2) it doesn’t make things better.
I should note one important item here, however, and that is that the PSX version renders almost all of these complaints obsolete. It’s the version I first played actually, stumbling through the first few hours untranslated during a Japanese PS+ trial period. The PSX version not only offers very dramatic visual upgrades and some excellent needed remixes, there is a small measure of kindness built in for the player through the game’s Easy Mode. It’s only in this mode for whatever reason that Atlus offers a design “solution” for the most infamous portion of the game, a dungeon in which you are required to wait for hours of lunar cycles in order for students to dig your path forward. In Easy Mode the time requirement is halved for you. Behold the design advancements of the 32-bit era!
If is generally an odd game in the context of the series. There is a type of person out there who likes to call this game Persona Zero, and for people who have played the Snow Queen route of Persona One I can see why the comparison is made. But despite the initial high school setting and pseudo-selectable party members, it still feels strange and off-putting to play a Shin Megami Tensei game with almost no meaningful narrative choices (routes here are essentially locked in at the start). Guardians are seen as proto-Personas, but in this game they are earned only through dying and are associated with combinations of stat augments and skill lists that are frequently at odds with each other. What you end up with is a system that is interesting conceptually (should I die to gain useful spells at the cost of my current stats?) but unworkable in practice (it is almost never worth the steep steep battle count cost to experiment). The seven deadly sins theming is sometimes used to inform the map design and dungeon concept, but again more often than not these concepts simply lead to unfortunate tedium for the player (shout out to the final dungeon of Reiko’s route though, which very brilliantly mashes together traditional SMT dungeon design and a thematically cool map floor I won’t spoil for you).
If we look at SMT If through the prism of 16-bit Atlus design principles, having the foundation of SMT1 and 2 to work from should in theory have led the developers to refine their decisions in ways that ought to have helped the player experience. Instead, the game makes bold choices that result in remarkably less fun. For example, If understands that guns were ludicrously over-powered in 1 and 2, and tries to course correct by … making it much more tedious for the player to use guns? Bullets now cost money and can only be bought by slowly ticking up the counter to 99 one click at a time, with each bundle purchase of 99 filling up a limited inventory slot. The encounter rate is as insane as usual, Estoma takes a little bit more time to get than usual, and the game’s economy does not afford you that many useful things to spend money on in terms of equipment. Combine these three aspects of the game and every player invariable ends up large quantities of makka on hand to spend on bullets to your hearts content, and given that bullets are still far and away the best way to dispatch groups of enemies, you’ll find yourself engaging in this tedium in order to play the game efficiently.
I’ve spent a lot of time repeating the word tedium in these observations, and it’s unfortunate that this is the main takeaway most players will get from playing these two games. Both SMT If and Majin Tensei 2 devise interesting systems and then execute them as grimly as possible from a playability standpoint. There are aspects of true unique accomplishment in both games (Majin Tensei 2 has the funniest demon negotiation dialogue in the entire franchise! SMT If’s final dungeon really is super cool!) but the kind of player who is willing to experience them is essentially a rounding error. I don’t have any regret at all that I played through each of them in their entirety (FYI Majin Tensei 2 is longer than Dragon Quest 7 or Persona 5 and SMT If has a new game plus with all new dungeons that increase difficulty and dullness), but I might understand if you have regret. Then again who knows, you made it to the end of this aimless and dull writeup so maybe these games will be right up your alley! Be sure to let me know!!!
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Ranking 23 Megami Tensei Games
There’s nothing the internet loves more than rankings, so here are some rankings of every Megaten game I’ve finished (for every Megaten game I own, stay tuned!!) This needs to be done in “tier” form though since trying to sort all of this is difficult enough as is. Let’s start with this ludicrous scale to get everyone on the same page.
★★★★★ C.L.A.S.S.I.C.S.
★★★★ Excellent games I love dearly, even the one you think doesn’t belong!
★★★ Good games, very enjoyable.
★★ #problematic, still okay though.
★ Not good.
Okay let’s get started.
★★★★★
Shin Megami Tensei 3; quietly, artfully, demolishes the moral complexity of all competing games, the greatest turn-based combat in RPG existence, the purest aesthetic vision of Kazuma Kaneko, the lonely grandness of the universe refracted through punk-rock demonology. Here is several thousand more words I wrote about it. Buy it on PSN or Amazon.
Revelations: Persona; there's no game that has matched its lurid dreamscape atmosphere, the most tasteful illustration of PSX-era philosophizing, choice (attention Gold Box fans) is the theme that pervades plotpoints, characters & battling, Mark danced crazy. Read my lengthy defense of it and buy it on eBay or through the PS Classic.
★★★★
Megami Tensei 2; begins with a mindblowingly meta intro that invokes nostalgia in the Famicom era, a Kaneko character sprite replaces blue-pointer-man on the (beautiful) world map!!, the LOSARM status occurs when you lose your arm. Buy it as the Super Famicom remake “Kyuuyaku Megami Tensei” on Wii Virtual Console and play the fan translation, Megami Tensei: Old Testament.
Shin Megami Tensei; the most elegantly plotted Shin Megami Tensei, a series of uncanny vignettes in everly increasing stakes, culminating in a final cathedral that reflects heavenly law and hellish chaos through both religious speechifying and floor map design. Read my Official Thread about it and buy it on iOS if you haven't updated your phone or tablet yet. Otherwise make do with the fan translation for SNES.
Soul Hackers; A vision of 1990s futurism and occultism, a showcase for multiple interesting interlocking subsystems for devil summoning, vision quests are true highlights: novel perspective switching through both game mechanics and aesthetics. Buy it on 3DS.
Persona 2: Innocent Sin; a manic wildly engrossing conspiracy-minded plot that never forgets to do kindly by its cast of characters, the best way to contextualize Persona 4. Buy it on PSN.
Persona 2: Eternal Punishment; playing this without its prequel probably helped build this game’s atmosphere in its own way, a swansong for the 1990s. Buy it on PSN.
Digital Devil Saga; a concise and brutal poem of an RPG, cyber-Buddhism, excellent dungeons. Buy it on PSN or Amazon if you don't want emulation issues.
Digital Devil Saga 2; a little weirder and less elegant than its predecessor, but Battle for Survival is unbelievable. PSN will probably give you emulation issues here as well. Persona 3; A tarot journey with a "hip-hop" soundtrack, goth-animu becomes something greater than the sum of its parts, a mix of roguelike-like systems and simulation elements that manages to somehow work brilliantly. The original non-FES version is my favorite since no further cruft is added, but buy it on PSN. Raidou Kuzunoha vs. King Abaddon; the tone of Japanese detective shows and Megami Tensei, Raidou’s cape fluttering across 20th century cityscapes, Adventure. Buy it on PSN.
Raidou Kuzunoha vs. The Soulless Army; seriously, Raidou is the coolest protagonist in videogames and this subseries is incredible. Buy it on PSN.
Shin Megami Tensei 4; for all its flaws, it still contains the Tokyo Moment. Buy it on 3DS.
★★★
Shin Megami Tensei 2; if only we had an official localization (and if only this game had its own unique final dungeon theme). Buy it on eBay.
Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey; Do not play Redux under any circumstances. Buy it on DS.
★★
Persona 4; think about that bit of sadness in the first 30 seconds of Heartbeat, Heartbreak and Your Affection. No matter how goofy or stupid the game gets elsewhere, it’s there where you can glimpse some of what grounds the game's tone, something that gets lost in everything that came after the PS2 original.
Persona 5; a year and a half later and still haven’t sorted out where the hell this mess ranks, just sticking it here for now. Those 3D Kaneko models though.
Megami Tensei; thinking about where dungeon crawlers were at in 1987, this one is actually super cool.
Shin Megami Tensei If; the whole point of tiers is to avoid ranking everything in detail, but this one is also very tough to place between ★★ and ★. Starts rather miserably but begins to reach its potential as it goes on, with the true final dungeon synthesizing map design and thematic concept in true SMT fashion. The lack of new music, choices, and general rom-hack atmosphere is unforgivable for an SMT though.
Devil Survivor; Still one of the sonic and aesthetic lows for this franchise, but Overclocked and its compendium turn this one around from initial impressions. Mission design can get poor and the characters remain awful, but there is undeniable satisfaction to be had here.
★
Shin Megami Tensei Online; even Kaneko can’t get me to enjoy an MMO.
DemiKids Dark Version; completely unremarkable.
Shin Megami Tensei 4 Apocalypse; Everything about how I feel is here.
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How do I feel about Shin Megami Tensei 4 Apocalypse???

Months after I finished SMT4 Apocalypse, I sorted through my feelings and produced this bulleted list of pluses and minuses. I wanted to be clinical and rational in my critique but well, sometimes you also need to get somewhat unhinged. Let me know how I did!
Let’s start this compliment sandwich with some pluses.
+Skill affinities are a great addition, helping to make demon fusion a bit less mindless than in SMT4
+The fixes to the way Smirk and Hama/Mudo function are good
+Dagda's voice actor is charismatic and enjoyable to listen to
+the record scratch sound effect
+the breakdown at :53 of the fusion music and the very 90s Persona-ish world map theme
+The mechanics of the last boss fight, the only challenging fight of the entire game. Also the aesthetics of the (extremely mild spoiler) first form of the fight. Perfectly done.
+Adramalech looks very cool. Mephisto too, the most Kaneko-looking of the lot (which as everyone says is very Faustian considering his DLC, see below)
-a lot of the new “improved” art still looks pretty bad. Lucifer looks so dopey with his big dumb hand and his goofy grin. The Trauma artist is still having problems drawing basic human faces. It’s the sort of thing that takes you out of scenes and prevents you from taking anything seriously.
-some of the lowest difficulty this series has ever seen on normal, the only difficulty without idiotic fusion costs. SMT1-level challenge for bossfights, even the supposed "Matador" of this game!
-Enemy formations that share the same weakness, encouraging even more magic all spamming, which is the only thing you need to do steamroll through the entire game. at least this didn't work 100% of the time in SMT4 like it does here. There’s not even a hint of need for resource conservation. It is very weird to play an SMT game that’s this completely frictionless.
-fusion still ends up being pretty mindless despite the welcome improvements from SMT4′s anything goes system.
-reused city and dungeon content for 80% of the game saps all the mystery and fun of exploration from those who have played the prequel. This is a huge one.
-reused music, with the few newer songs mostly based on a not-so-great new leitmotif with a bouncier more generic tone
-boring and repetitive NPC dialogue, a major step down from the previous game
-fewer and less interesting and meaningful sidequests
-major problems with regard to writing and storytelling. Because the story is targeted to teens everything is pretty goofy, it's all very over-explained and unambiguous, taking ideas and themes that were subtext in previous games and executing them flatly as broadly written text without any finesse. Everything just comes across as dumb.
-many many choices that do not matter at all, which is extremely out of place and off-putting for a Shin Megami Tensei game
SHRILLNESS WARNING ABANDON POST IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY
-every character in the game. flat, irritating, unlikable, dumb looking, or dumb acting, these characters are absolutely a series low. the worst was the child ninja stereotype who starts calling you master for no reason at all, indulging in modern Atlus’s most disgusting tendencies. Just awful.
-some of the most pathetic DLC ever devised. Not just the obviously bad beach DLC, which is honestly even worse than you think it is (see for yourself) but also the supposed "hardcore" DLC that panders to series oldheads in the exact manner of a reverse version of the "how do you do fellow kids" gif.
-Let me take the time to explain why I found the Diamond Realms DLC so offputting (spoilers ahead!) Setting aside the complete slog of dungeon progression that whooshes completely in an attempt to mimic Super Famicom design, you’ve also got fanfiction level dialogue assigned to each new classic hero (drawn in a way to homogenize any of Kaneko's uniqueness) and a true lowpoint with the confrontation with Steven, an enigmatic figure from through out the series who for some incredibly dumb reason in this DLC is a boss fight. In the grand climax he decides to stand out of his wheelchair in order to demonstrate how much of a badass he is. Even if this wasn't in a series that used to be known for being intelligent and thoughtful this would be just terrible.
SHRILLNESS OVER GETTING REASONABLE AGAIN
If I remove my baggage and try to judge this as a game on its own terms I still think the flaws make Apocalypse a big miss, although I would say newcomers to the series will definitely find fun if this is their first time in Tokyo (the OG atmosphere and music is too great to diminish). But to anyone who had an affinity for the series beforehand your faith in the staff of Atlus to properly steward a special series into what remains of the future for Japan’s RPGs will be completely shot.
The optimistic take is that this was a weird sidestory experiment designed to attract a new audience of Japanese teens (in a heavily plot-dependent sequel for some reason???) and that things will get back to normal for SMT5. The pessimistic take is that the series has completely lost its identity and there is nothing that will come close to ever replacing it. In the time since this game came out and I wrote this post Atlus released Deep Strange Journey, a remake of Kaneko’s final game that removed all traces of Kaneko and added save anywhere and a blushing Zelenin. So let that inform your own optimism or pessimism as you will.
I said I would make this a compliment sandwich at the start but I am too sad to end on a positive note, sorry!
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My favorite moment (and your favorite moment) in Shin Megami Tensei 4

Shin Megami Tensei 4 plays an extremely mean trick on you. It’s mean because the trick takes seven hours, and you put up with a lot of clichés and compromises for those seven hours, and just when you have forgotten why you started playing you end up experiencing the best moment of the game. Most of you know what moment I’m talking about because this is everyone’s favorite moment, but for those of you who have no idea at all what’s coming, consider that what I’m about to say is a little bit spoilerish. If you’ve already checked out a trailer though you can go ahead and read. This is a rambly little essay about the moment you reach Tokyo. I want to take the time to spell out exactly how masterfully the developers crafted this moment, where music, mechanics, progression and storytelling synchronize perfectly into a kind of symphony of design. Jeremy Parish has already described in detail the aesthetic and mechanical excellence of the game’s first boss, a true M____R gatekeeper in the SMT3 sense. But what comes immediately after in the Tokyo moment is just as carefully designed. To set the stage, recall that you have descended to the depths of the game’s most dangerous and difficult dungeon, and at the very bottom you discover the fun inversion that you are actually at the very top. Hell is heaven, in Mikado you are crypt robbers, but in Tokyo you are angels. It's the first major plot revelation, and the game is set up to provide a suitable level of impact. The staid and boring medieval environment of every other RPG gives away to the eerie modern setting that is the series trademark. The Tokyo moment is a gamechanger, which is to say that the the game is literally changed. Mechanically, you obtain guns for the first time, and visually, the change in setting is obvious. After the cramped drabness of Naraku caves and hallways, the camera so tight as to be deliberately claustrophobic, you reach the bottom and the game finally opens. The drudgery and somewhat hackneyed lameness of the previous Mikado hours have been extinguished: from low budget menu traversal to breathtaking 3D town design (skyscrapers piercing crimson ash clouds!) and a high concept world map based on real life Tokyo. Parish’s review touches on very interesting ideas regarding how SMT4′s Mikado section embodies the downscaled streamlined compromises of the modern handheld RPG, while Tokyo represents the RPG as we remember it, and I think this is absolutely the right take. Lots of RPGs build to the moment where the game finally opens up, but I don’t think there are very many that do so as adroitly and as dramatically as SMT4. From the mechanics and progression systems to the beats in the story, SMT4 stands out. And the music! An incredibly stark contrast from Mikado, where the Trauma Team composer does competent medieval 101 tracks, suddenly you're bowled over by Tokyo’s otherworldly cyberpunk majesty. You reach the terminal for the first time, and the Hindi incantation instantly sends chills, a recollection of Digital Devil Saga’s cyber-Hinduism, paired with glorious glittering Nocturne visuals as you transport, and eventually a traditional Shin Megami Tensei composition to ground the game in its history. And finally, the world map theme. Crafted for maximum awesomeness, the nostalgia is almost painful, a wailing guitar that transcends the inherent cheese to seemingly contain all the anguish and hope for a troubled genre, those plunking strings a sonically perfect elegy to what might have been had Japan’s stars more readily aligned with the West’s this past generation. That RPG you remember from your youth, captured here in the classiest of ways, somehow evoking sighs even from those of us who never bought into the decline narrative. I think what I’m saying is that the Tokyo moment felt weighty and weirdly emotional, I’m still processing it, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I could babble more about the extra fun insights the moment provides for the few of us who’ve played SMT2, I feel like I could write a dozen ANALYSES of so many songs in the crowdpleasing soundtrack (Item Shop Music: Triumph of the Vocoder?), but really in the end all I want to say is that the Tokyo moment seems like it was designed specifically to assuage so many of my fears for this game and for the future of Atlus, and helped me feel better about my year long lingering Kaneko depression heh. [Author’s Note from 2018 with full knowledge of the current state of Atlus: lolllll]
The thing about SMT4 is that there are so many things that are wrong with it. There are also the design decisions that seem recklessly insane but actually work. The much derided world map, which hearkens to earlier games and makes it easy to get lost (this is a GOOD thing guys!). The decision to hide a SPOILER airship!! SPOILER in an easily missed optional sidequest received from randomly chatting with a particular demon. And yes, the Tokyo moment.
SMT4, for all its faults, is a brave and confident game, it makes considered choices that challenge player dogma and offers a vision for an approach to RPG design that should still have worth and value. Even if the roots of what has happened to Shin Megami Tensei in 2018 originate in this entry, it’s still a special RPG, and it should be remembered for this moment, both for what that moment meant back in 2013, and for what that moment means today.

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Shin Megami Tensei 3 Nocturne is still incredible

I just finished a replay of Shin Megami Tensei 3 for the first time in a decade, so I felt compelled to write a big long unstructured essay about it where I’m going to sound like an overwrought crazy person. That’s okay though. There’s just something about this game that really speaks to those of us who find our way in. When you sound like a hyperbolic cultist writing soaring prose to try to meet the game at its level, it’s not a unique reaction. We’ve all been spellbound in the same way, the game is designed to do it. How is it designed to do this? Basically, in every conceivable way! The music and sound composition, the moment-to-moment battling, the environmental art and location choices, the progression systems for both the protagonist and demon fusions, the scope and method of storytelling, the density and depth of the mythological references, everything fits together like a symphony to inspire these feelings. Tension, immersion (lol), and utter absorption. Nocturne is a clinic in how to structure every aspect of your game around a unified vision (finding the strength to survive in a cruel and barren land) without hugely compromising ambition. That this level of design can be sustained over the course of 50 hours for the average playthrough and 70 for those of us determined to reach the lowest depths of the game’s enormous optional (!) Amala dungeon is insanely remarkable. Some of the more adolescent fans of the Shin Megami Tensei series and the broader Megaten franchise lionize this one in particular as being the most “dark” but that’s a kind of stupid and narrow way of looking at it. If you’re a cool person you don’t love Nocturne because it’s “dark” you love it because the game makes you feel like you’re hallucinating. SMT3 is unconcerned with providing detailed exposition and light-hearted character moments, but it’s a game that is overrun with “story” at every turn. And not just in the environmental, piece-it-together Souls series storytelling sense people love to talk about, there are actually a bunch more NPCs around straight up delivering dialogue for you than you’d think! Pair that up with the demon chatting, the compendium entries, the audiovisual cues and the gorgeously directed cutscenes, and the common complaint that SMT3 has no story just seems like nonsense to me. The game isn’t necessarily just dour or unambiguously somber either. Megami Tensei’s roots are in the pulpy trash of 80s light novels, and you see this in some of the humorous demon-focused crassness, the bits of comedic negotiation dialogue, and the seeming mish-mash of myth as aesthetic influences. But the funny paradox of SMT3 is that it’s a game built on a punk-rock foundation of rebelling against what’s proper and mainstream (see any interview with the creators) that is also simultaneously downright austere by today’s standards. Grand and lonely and visionary in tone, careful, measured and meticulous in its design, without an ounce of bloat, nothing wasted or incoherent, it’s just so impressive on every level (I promise I’ll get more specific with my gushing soon). There’s an attitude among some Megaten fans that Nocturne is the one that doesn’t fit in the series, that it’s too different from previous Shin Megami Tensei games, but I don’t think that’s right. To me there’s a very clear throughline, it’s just Nocturne’s antecedents aren’t necessarily found in its immediate numbered predecessor. When it comes to the main and numbered games in this series, you can very easily see the path from Megami Tensei 2 -> Shin Megami Tensei 2 -> Shin Megami Tensei 4, all of which begin years after the apocalypse has occurred and concern themselves with how society persists and political factions collide decades and even centuries into the aftermath. They are the three most readily described as “cyberpunk”, they’re chattier, they’re a bit more clichéd in their own ways (amnesiac gladiator and military academy recruit openings for SMT2 and SMT4 respectively), they let you use guns and their general sensibilities are similar.
SMT3’s lineage is, I feel, more directly traced from two other games. SMT1 and (hear me out!) Revelations: Persona. I think it’s easy to link these three games together for several reasons. In all three you begin in relative peace in a current day city, in all three the inciting incident is an occultist ritual, and interestingly in all three the hospital is your first dungeon, deliberately chosen for its uncanny familiarity to create an immediate sense of unease (and also the pretty obvious birth/death location symbolism). These are games centered around the immediacy of disaster and apocalypse, and take modern day locations that are meant to be familiar and subvert them to make them unnerving. Atmosphere is a word I see frequently used to praise all three games (yes there are at least 1 dozens of us, [dozens!] who like Persona 1) and the dream-like, surreal atmosphere in these three games can be strikingly similar.

So yeah, good lord, Nocturne’s atmosphere. This game is simply filled with astonishing imagery at every point. The art directors managed to make each scene feel somehow weighty and mesmerizing, with aesthetic choices made throughout that are just so thoughtful and cultured. Angels and demons look terrifying and awesome, in that they inspire terror and awe. Gods and goddesses appear benevolent, their facial expressions neutral and lacking in human emotion. Jack Frost remains the best mascot in videogames. There’s well-researched details in the animations and all aspects of appearance (see here for a bit on Baphomet’s posing). The vocal and sonic choices are perfect, like that unsettling blaring soundblast when the statue of Gozu-Tennoh speaks, as if a great and mighty terror is deigning to communicate across worlds.
There are posts that dissect the spiral imagery of the vortex world that repeats over the course of the game. There are entire sites devoted to breaking down the wide range of inspirations for the game's transcendental demon design. Random tumblr people compare the cutscene direction to Ingmar Bergman films, and it’s interesting to see how the cutscenes are frequently in first person or otherwise hide the protagonist, which not only hearkens back to series roots (while saving budget $$$) but also conveys solitude and makes the scenes with multiple demons and figures appear that much more spectacular. On any given day you’ll find a tweet or two or three of people overwhelmed by the game’s aesthetic choices, its virtuoso game over sequence, or title sequence, or pretty much any sequence. It’s the purest expression of a world class artist’s singular vision and is the reason why all of us sound so annoying whining for Kazuma Kaneko to return from his flower field exile.
There’s also a very ingenious way SMT3 supports its themes and that is through the combat. Nocturne is a game about stealing turns. It’s the fundamental principle of the battling, it’s why everyone tells you to keep the skill Fog Breath, and it’s a carryover from the simpler system in SMT1 where the method of stealing turns was using charm bullets or casting Zio to paralyze the enemy before they even have a chance to act. The battle system has a famous Engrish name called “Press Turn,” which is distinct and not to be confused with the One More system from newer Persona games or the alignment based combat bonuses of Strange Journey.
In SMT3, any given press turn encounter depends upon the party composition choices you’ve made, not only the resistances and repels/drains you enter with (two very different things in terms of battle consequences!) but also the moment to moment decision-making of turn management, weighing how to strategically pass to maximize damage output over the course of the fight. Every battle is an opportunity to demonstrate your efficiency and mastery of the systems, and the goal of each encounter is to use foresight and preparation to demolish your foes before they have the chance to even act. Steal turns and survive in a barren land of death upon death, this is the elegance of Press Turn. You’ll hear endless discussion around this game’s difficulty, and encounters generally have teeth to them yeah, but there is a very principled fairness to the battling where combat swings do not occur as dramatically as they do in say, SMT4. SMT3 is balanced perfectly by virtue of its lack of save anywhere option, providing you with tension at all times but also most importantly the tools to mitigate disaster over the long term, which is a deeply deeply rewarding way to survive.
Press Turn’s UI really adds to this rewarding feeling. How terrifying is it when a boss casts Beast or Dragon Eye, and suddenly a string of new turn icons appear? How satisfying is it to see a row of flashing turns, knowing that you’ve fully exploited your enemy? The enemy composition really accentuates this as well, with encounters often designed to avoid easy spam of single elements or physical skills to mindlessly coast to victory. SMT3 doesn’t want you taking any shortcuts, if you want to take advantage of a given demon or magatama’s skillset, you need to pair your choices to mitigate the corresponding weakness, or the enemy’s AI will press their advantage in the exact way you would. It’s a really satisfying symmetry.
There are also other paths to battle that are just as viable. Exploiting weaknesses with a multipurpose magic build is another way to steal turns. Building battlers around skills that maximize critical hits is another way. And if you are terrified of the infamous one-shot deaths that people like to say are the franchise trademark? Equip null-death magatama in between level ups. Raise your luck. Resolve battles before enemies even have the chance to use the spell against you. Raise your speed so enemies don’t get the chance to go first. Get endure as soon as possible. The tools for success are all right there for you! Nocturne tasks you with growing strong enough in this world to ascend to creation, and it provides you with multiple paths to reach this goal.
So, about these multiple paths, let me talk to you a bit about SMT3’s famously unique alignment system. Other games are lauded for their ultimately fairly stupid morality systems but Nocturne breezily operates on a completely different level. Instead of RESCUE and HARVEST in dumb giant gothic font or literally color-coded paragon and renegade meters, in SMT3 you align yourself naturally through story progression with factions concerned with stillness, power, solitude, freedom, or rebellion. Instead of the grand binary moral choice being telegraphed through hideous-looking “Little Sisters” (god I hated that stupid name haha) there’s a rough analogue in the actually sympathetic but far more complex unsettling-looking Manikins, whose character motif is described by the creators as representing those who lose themselves to the strength of numbers. There’s unfortunately a tiny amount of material in the game to support extremely tedious “canon” discussion, but the game actually works best and most purely as an abstract, impressionistic vision of grand universal themes. Playing through any one of SMT3’s six endings makes the universe feel vast and overwhelming, and asks you to contend with a broader suite of philosophies than ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ and that’s ultimately what I think the developers were most interested in going for.
Something about the prose in Nocturne is also special in a way that is extremely difficult to accurately describe. Like everything else in this game it feels elegant and detached, gods and goddesses are appropriately otherworldly without sounding like haughty stereotypes, lower demons are funny and crass in a way that’s not so on-the-nose. Again it’s very difficult to pinpoint but something has been lost in the writing of the newer games, even a bit as small as how angels and demons in the game actually never name anything directly as God, but instead refer obliquely to a Lord, an Absolute, or a Great Will, Nocturne just gets all the little details right.
As I run out of steam from this braindump, I notice there’s still an essay’s worth of observations in so many other topics that deserve to be discussed. The Tokyo-focused but somehow universal theming of the game’s alignment principles and locale visuals. The insanely expansive but unfortunately compressed soundtrack (see over three hours of unreleased material alone here), where dungeon music regularly evolves to indicate progression, and battle and boss music quantity is generously varied both between and within song. The extremely rewarding fusion system can be plumbed to frankly insane depths, with a demon bestiary that is reasonable to 100%, and the lack of “use it or lose it” demon quality that hits other SMT series games contributing to a better feeling of progression and customization opportunities. The demon negotiation, which rewards your knowledge of mythological connections among pantheons with unique one-time only dialogue. The dungeons, the DUNGEONS. With the exception of an early set of sewers, an apparent shitty dungeon theme RPG tradition, each of these are little masterpieces of aesthetics and design, with their own thoughtfully introduced and iterated gimmick, planned wonderfully for both third and first person, often wrapping in and around themselves in spirals in that very Shin Megami Tensei-specific way.
Even if you think a game like Nocturne seems too dense or impenetrable or boring or random-encounter filled or whatever, it’s worth giving it a real shot for yourself to see if it manages to grab you. We’re no longer in those days in the late 2000s where the game cost exorbitant amounts of money to get, a digital version can be found on PS3 for $10 (with only rare emulation issues in certain dungeon sections), and the disc itself was reprinted and can be found brand new on Amazon if you have a PS2 or want to emulate on PCSX2, where the game looks even more breathtaking. Either way, find a way to treat yourself to an RPG where it is actually appropriate to throw around the term masterpiece. I didn’t really write any of this text no one’s going to read to make a persuasive case to anyone, but sometimes games will inspire you and it feels good to ramble about them. Games like this one are nearly impossible to make nowadays, and SMT3 is something worth cherishing.
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My lengthy defense of the most hated Persona game

Here’s my grand defense for the most hated game in the series: Persona 1, AKA Revelations: Persona. I know it’s too late to try and rehabilitate the game’s reputation on the internet, but I’m hoping that by rambling in modestly structured form for a bit, at least some folks might be able to look at Persona with a fresh perspective. It would be cool if everyone could try to understand what the game did so well and why it resonated so strongly with me and 2 or so other people. If you are the kind of person that thinks games age and become archaic, then I probably don’t have any hope of reaching you, but still, try to put yourself in the right mindset and approach the game on its own terms, and maybe you’ll discover something quite special.
So, Persona. Persona does very interesting things with choice. As the first Megaten rpg released in America, the negotiation system was a revelation (har har), providing the choice to talk your way out of battles and into rewards is a natural D&D element that never got a foothold in countless videogame conversions of the game, and in the first Persona these elements are at their peak. With every demon having four moods, four series of animation and four sets of voiced sound effects, the expanded options really let you get into the headspace of the demons you’re conversing with, unlike traditional SMT’s more spare binary system. Getting into the thick of things with complex sets of reactions (Joy + Interest, that’s what’s up) makes for a fun simulation.
The theme of choice is also really built into the game’s fabric, it’s the reason why in old usenet postings, Persona was recommended to folks who were fans of Gold Box games, during a time when RPG labels were more porous and that sneaky “J” hadn’t yet latched itself omnipresently to the term. Choice here also extends to the fifth character in your party, a friendly way to promote replay value without new game plus, and certain choices locking you out of giant chunks of the game, an unfriendly way of getting you through the game again. In a world though where developers are desperate to ensure that gamers experience all content (so many buzzwords!), the chutzpah of Persona being willing to lock you out of huge swathes of the game is something I actually admire.
It’s easy to underestimate the impact of the modern day setting in a post Persona 3/TWEWY/Alpha Protocol world, but dungeons that were hospitals and police stations and high school students snarling “EAT THIS” with MIGs in pitched street battles felt revelatory. Exploring the comically low-rent polygonal city (is this another reference to the abstracted icons of SMT1 and 2 world maps?) was actually fun, as ridiculous as waiting for traffic to pass might seem. There are also many complaints about the first person perspective dungeons, even though the rest of the game is third person, but the setting variety is nice and many of the wall patterns are quite evocative (Deva Yuga looks like Persepolis!)
The game also does PSX-era philosophizing in a tasteful and generally thoughtful way, while contemporaries were drawing from Evangelion, Persona looked to Zhuangzi and Jung. Not very high-falutin, true, but at least middle brow enough such that my 14 year old Sophie’s World reading self was entranced. The game has something neat to say about loneliness and identity and the way we construct the world around ourselves (all hinted at in the moody intro. The story is very nice and very Kaneko, even if he’s overestimating the literary quality in this interview, I’m very fond of it and it is my franchise favorite.
Here’s where I alienate the remaining people who might have been on board with me so far: if you ignore the loss of the Snow Queen Quest, a 20 hour alternate version of the story that takes place in a series of SMT:If... like towers, Revelations: Persona is actually the superior game. “Lunarvale,” a hodgepodge of America and Japan cobbled together by localizers attempting to mask the game’s origins, is actually more weird and interesting than the Mikage-cho that appears in Persona PSP. This bizarre mashup, combined with a nonsense translation attempt, somehow manages to better fit the lurid dreamscape vibe the original developers were going for. I can’t undersell how one-of-a-kind and wonderfully unsettling the game’s atmosphere is in the PSX version, and this is helped along of course by the sound.
Here are excerpts from some things I wrote on the music in this game:
Revelations: Persona has the best soundtrack in the franchise, possibly the best soundtrack ever made. In raw quantitative terms it's ridiculous, 113 songs and 3 hours of music without being looped, and all without doing Persona 2's trick of repeated (but still awesome!) remixes. Two majorly sweet leitmotifs for the two major quests, employed creatively and thoughtfully, four fantastic composers on four discs, cohesive and thematically coherent when by all rights it should feel disjointed as fuck, this is a generous OST!
Hidehito Aoki (R.I.P.) composed the dungeon music, which is exquisite. Lengthy songs that are moody, elegant, just plain beautiful and get you PUMPED! The iconic Deva Yuga Monochrome: School Revisited Dream-like, synthy, catchy, beautiful, quintessential Persona sound. Pandora's Den (Deepmost Area): The climax at 1:12! Ice Castle/Black Snow The twists and turns in this one, so effing good. Sebek Music, Karma Palace 90's music is the best!!! Misaki Okibe's range is ridiculous, she composed some of the most memorable, interesting tracks in the whole game. Reverse Dream World: You think you have this song figured out in the first few seconds, but stick around to see where it suddenly veers off to around :30, hilarious and awesome. Theme of Nemurin's Love: The intro! The power of a simple lovely melody, a little Uematsu-esque. Augustia's Wood: The save music, so memorable, I love the grumbling. City 2 Accident: Do you remember wandering the streets in the town, disoriented, listening to this gorgeousness, thinking about how Lunarvale suddenly seemed so scary, like an unsettling dream? Bar Attacked by Harem Queen: A bit of jazzy beauty. And most important of all of course, Misaki Okibe is the composer of the Pharmacy Music, featuring vocals by one Hidehito Aoki of all people. Satomi Tadashi Drugstore Song In our heads forever, teaching us about item use since 1996.
More alienating for readers who have gotten this far: the “whitewashing” character designs were all improvements, Kazuma Kaneko redrew everything himself and it’s easy to tell that a lot of thought was put into the redesigns. Finally, Mark is also >>>> Masao, everyone’s always yelling about the jive-talking but to me he came across as quite smart and savvy. I dunno, maybe this is just a Flavor of Love/Outsourced minorities just wanna see themselves effect operating here, leave me alone you guys! So yes, the franchise’s current fanbase might not be fond of them, but the cast is comprised of characters that are meant to be iconic and not friends you wish you had in real life, a cast that, FFVI-like, is meant to evoke broader themes and not follow the typical arcs of many RPGs these days. Check out the classiness of Yuki’s design, and allow me to quote some more stuff on how Tsuchiya, master of the character theme, nails it for each party member.
The sign of a good character theme is when you can extrapolate from instrument choice and melody to personality. Here Tsuchiya is the man, no one does it better this side of Uematsu. I hear these songs and I've got a perfect picture in my mind of each cast member. It's what I think of when I think of "videogame music" ha, here are my personal favorites, I could listen to these endlessly. Mary/Maki: Cheerful, just a hint of melancholy in the notes, love that slap bass. Yuki: Starts a bit slow, but soon we learn that Yuki's cool but determined. Alana: The song tells me she's brassy, energetic, fun. Chris/Reiji: Dangerous, exciting, a bad-ass delinquent. Ellen/Elly: Classy, elegant, confident.
Some also rag on the dungeon design, but it seems unfair to expect centerpiece labyrinths along the lines of Strange Journey or Etrian Odyssey in a game going for something completely different. Nevertheless, you’ve got tricky mazes with dead ends that test resource allocation skills and provide a sense of accomplishment. Encounters are tough and require thought, careful consideration of when to flee and negotiate is imperative for dungeon survival. This is something that gets lost a bit in the PSP remake as the encounter rate is increased but battles are a bit easier. Exploiting elemental weaknesses isn’t as elegant as in later games, but with a ludicrously high 14 damage types breadth supersedes depth. And there’s even a positioning system to consider that the developers decided to drop from later games rather than refine. In the end, surviving the dungeon and beating the boss is an RPG staple that just plain works, although yes you will probably grit your teeth at some of the loading times.
And finally, you don’t have to take my random word for it. Parish really liked it too! How’s that for an appeal to authority?
For series buffs, it’s fun to trace this game’s historical lineage, as one of the earlier spinoffs of Shin Megami Tensei, it's easy to spot the mainline series influence: the occultism of the opening ritual, the hospital as first dungeon, the first person perspective for dungeon travel, BLUE POINTER MAN, and the omnipresent danger of demons in town and dungeon alike. Revelations: Persona is drawing from a rich and storied history, but manages to recast SMT traditions in interesting new directions. Again, the atmosphere is really unbelievable and something I haven’t come across in other games. It’s more than a simple curiosity and it doesn’t deserve dumb dismissal or sneering derision for its flaws. Revelations: Persona is a real marvel, modern games ought to draw more inspiration from its lessons, and the game belongs in the RPG canon, there I said it!
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