Digital Polyphony

film, games, memories & random thoughts

Digital Polyphony Episode Seven

The Book of Vivi

“The artist who aims at perfection in everything achieves it in nothing.”
~Eugene Delacroix

“Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without.” 
 ~Confucius, Analects


 ~Part Three of Three: Revelations~


I can go on and on about how wonderfully Final Fantasy IX tells its story, its dialogue nice, its hero refreshing and the artistry of its world beautifully realized.

But as George Bernard Shaw once said "A drama critic is a man who leaves no turn unstoned."
Look hard enough at anything and you can see the faults. To be critical of something is often frowned upon, but at the same time would it not be fair to look at all angles? You can glamorize and express your fondness for something, but to actually appreciate it, you need to understand what its faults are.

Final Fantasy IX has had its critics over the years, though in the past few people have warmed up to it more. I'm not going to take a shallow approach to being critical of it - many would criticize its mini games or the fact the main character has a tail. That wouldn't fit in line with the first two parts if I were to do that, now would it? If I'm going to spend pages going into the details as to why Final Fantasy IX is great, touch upon it with depth and exposition, then it's fair I do the same when it comes to being critical of it. So let's start with game design 101.

To Adventure! (sort of)
Final Fantasy IX is able to weave quite the fantastical tale and, as noted, it does this well through smart visual storytelling, art design and treating it all as a high-fantasy Fairy Tale that retains its worth by not insulting the player. It's smart, well thought out and overall a nice, charming little story that is different than the norm of Japanese RPG that enjoy a darker, often more brooding and far more anime-inspired efforts with focus on action and teenage melodrama. But not all is wonderful in the land of Final Fantasy IX either, and there's always a few dark shrouds that blanket anything. You might raise your sword as you rush to save the day and explore grand worlds, but a few things keep Final Fantasy IX back from really achieving that.

If you were to just read the script as its written on paper, you will probably notice how it really plans it all out. As I've noted in Part 2, it's nicely written with a good deal of closure and a sense of completeness. It's focused and tight and spends quality time developing its plot.

Yeah... except its a game. You aren't just reading it, you're participating in it. What's not taken in to account is the script is broken up through the gameplay and the more and more you dive into it, the more and more you realize the gameplay and story aren't exactly working hand in hand. On paper it might say they journey from Point A to Point B across a vast field...but it doesn't explain to you how slow and dull that journey is and how the blandness of fighting boring battles can nearly take you out of whatever it was the scenes were putting you in. Instead of having a sense of synergy, you have the sense of two entirely separate things with little relation.

In RPGs, Japanese RPGs especially, it's often debated on what is valued more: story or gameplay. The great RPGs don't bring up this debate, though, because the great RPGs put a value into both. More importantly, however, is that the great RPGs are able to blend the two seamlessly to where you don't realize the two as separate entities at all. It's a hard thing to balance, but those that hit it do, Final Fantasy IX does not.

This is for a number of reasons, but I feel, primarily, is the basic, uninspired gameplay it presents. By gameplay I mean everything from battles, to customizing characters to simple traveling and exploring. It makes you feel a part of the world, sure, and that's better than what most games can achieve, but that's only one element - everything else feels passive and trite, if not tedious, rather than a great blend where you want to be involved, not just read/watch a story unfold.

Yet you have slow, uninteresting battles, of which there are too many and far too drawn out on top of it all (FFIX having a strikingly high battle-encounter rate), a world that, outside of your main land, is equally uninteresting (more on that later) and not worth even exploring, a customization and magic system that seems more arbitrary than anything and an ability system that feels tacked on where you just select some crystals and be on your way with really little noticeable difference during the gameplay. At least it got some of the mini games right, and little fetch quests, but again, less blending and more a separate element. Then again, the one mini-game they did blend into the story well is a poorly done card game.

It's one thing to take the atmosphere and narrative and do a "throwback" and nostalgic trip, but the battle system and gameplay should have moved forward, not to the past alongside all the other stuff. In other words, it should have been nostalgic in form, not in function. It felt dated even upon the game's release and can either be something you can deal with, or can bring down your admiration of everything else as a result. Is gameplay or story more important? Like I said, the great ones can put effort into both, and more importantly merge the two to where it's not even a question. Fianl Fantasy IX certainly drew its line, though, which explains why it divides so many people. 

However, though it does a great job with its story as it shuns its gameplay, even its story can produce issues.

 ~A Fall to Cliche~
Final Fantasy IX is an odd duck, certainly. It relishes in nostalgia and wanting to “celebrate” everything Final Fantasy, at the same time it manages to be rather refreshing and unique in its own right, such as a lighter main character and a better woven love story that doesn’t feel overly dominant to the situation at hand. Yet, it’s as though the creators can’t resist the urge, and in one critical moment it undermines everything it set out to do before. That would be this scene here:

Do you know why this scene absolutely fails at whatever the hell it’s trying to do? Here’s a list:
  • It’s a complete 180 of the character already established. This is the biggest thing. Zidane has been though a lot, he’s seen stuff and got out of situations he probably shouldn’t have, and he always did it with a great bit of optimism and charm. Now he’s moody, self-doubting and pathetic. If this was a gradual curve, then sure. That shows progression of a character. But, instead, he comes off as pouty because “dad” grounded him.
  • The exact same thing already happened with both Garnet and Vivi. They were more woven into the fabric, with more time and relevance put in to it. Zidane’s questioning of himself and purpose is like a Johnny-Come-Lately.
  • Thematically, this is already established with the Vivi-Kuja take on death (see Part II). Zidane isn’t needed here, his relationship is more with Garnet, the princess and love interest. There is no theme or relationship to this scene other than showing his friends coming to make him feel better...which they've already done before this.
  • It doesn’t evolve the character at all. It’s one scene, not an established plot line with thoughtful construction or relevance. Zidane ends up exactly where he was before thus no progress or development even occurs in the slightest, and you end up forgetting the whole thing happens the moment its done with. Afterall, nobody even talks about it...more on that later. It comes, it’s over, and is never spoken of again. It’s just a blip on the radar and, as a result, completely pointless to everything, especially the big picture.
  • It’s cheesy as hell in some desperate attempt to make the party feel more unified (and we’ve already established that they never quite do).
  • Zidane already had a bit of self-doubt earlier when Garnet is removed from his life. It’s a pretty cool but also short scene of him drinking his worries away in a bar. It then evolved to where, eventually, Garnet returns and it progresses. It has a beginning and end, with the end being opposite than the beginning. Plus, the entire thing is downplayed. In fact, it has a bit comical mischief and misdirection going on in it as well, showing some thought went in to it. Not only did we not need another scene of his self-doubt, but we didn’t need it done so poorly by comparison.
  • What should have happened is this done gradually over the course of the game, not your main character suddenly slouched on a throne and ham-fisted dialogue, and especially altering the entire presentation and structure to accommodate it. You know, like it was done for nearly every other character. Maybe the writers realized Zidane didn't have a "dramatic moment" yet that will risk the end of all existence and world imploding or whatever and quickly wrote something up. You can sense it, and the fact that it's the main character nearly ruins the otherwise polished story. Just this one little bit...and it
  • ”I’m sorry, let’s head back” is how Zidane ends this? Wow, let’s just say “Oh, whoops, my shoelaces are untied” while you’re at it. If it undermines its own sincerity, then no wonder nobody cares about it.
Wow, that’s quite a lot from one little thirty minute sequence (and only about half of that story points), you might think. You’re right. Here’s the thing. I can see “why” it’s there. Zidane is the person that kept people together. He’s a true leader and he went out of his way numerous times to help his friends. This is them paying him back for all that...but ask yourself “was it even needed?” Their friendship was already there, Zidane already a character we liked and we’ve established his friends are grateful for him (especially Vivi and Garnet). What is the point of the scene other than to shove it in our face and shoehorn in melodrama. Before this, most of the story felt natural and flowed well.

As mentioned, Zidane already had a mopey, self-doubting moment and it was done far, far better, and far more relevant tot he story. Take the thoughtfulness and intelligence in this scene, the final few minutes starting at 7:30, then Parts 33 to 34 after and compare. This scene grows and evolves and stays relevant, weaving in and out and not just one singular moment to be thrust into the picture. It expands and grows, switching from character to character to develop the story, not merely tell us what we are supposed to know. then saying “whoops, sorry about that.”

Does it break the story? Not entirely, but it comes close. It nearly breaks a character, certainly, but it seems more an aside that's needless and is bad by comparison if anything.
~A Fall to Cliche (Part II)~
Every Final Fantasy game likes to have a series of big reveals, and many, often, will have a major one that is a massive revelation as something of some great power is finally uncovered and the true evil scheme is unveiled. Final Fantasy IX is no exception as we soon find that there's an entire separate world to that of Gaia, known as Terra, and the dead souls of Terra are transfused to its sister planet, Gaia, through something called the Ilfa Tree. Think of it as a shepherd of souls or, as I like to think of it, a sewage system where the useless souls are processed to the world of Gaia where they turn into mist.
Ok, so that's convoluted enough, and Final Fantasy IX actually does a decent job explaining it all. But it's not done yet. The truth is, considering all the sub plots and main plots Final Fantasy IX, it does a pretty decent job keeping it all clear with not a whole of of speculation needed. That is until it starts making it all irrelevant as it dips into another cliche that, quite honestly, wasn't needed at all. The writers try to get a little too cute for their own good.
You see, there's a lineage when it comes to Role Playing Game villains. You start with one, you realize there's someone behind that person, then someone behind that person. Final Fantasy IX oversteps its bounds by going from Queen Brahne, to Kuja then throwing in two more: the completely by-the-numbers Garland the the unexplained entity known as Necron. Was Brahne and Kuja not enough, especially seeing as how Kuja more or less dominates the story? Well, the writers, for whatever reason, felt the need to have some sort of connection to the villain and hero. Fair enough, but they threw in Garland (who's entire design is utterly stock, I might add) for what is essentially no reason whatsoever. Garland is a useless character and is served only a cliche mouthpiece to explain the cliche diatribe (and in a very cliched moment) to a cliche backstory involving Kuja and Zidane (which leads to what we covered in part one). Basically everything, from Mist to the souls to Kuja to Eidolons to the Genomes to the character backstory to the Ilfa Tree...all of it can be explained through him and the people of Terra. It feels more obligatory, forcing connections and a single entity to point at, than actually smart writing.
Final Fantasy IX might love the fact it's nostalgic, but most of it is done smartly, efficiently and with a purpose. It harkens back to old standards and storytelling but tends to not be lazy about it and often shows great care on part of the creators. But this entire plot with Garland, the villain behind the villains and the connection of Zidane and Kuja is just, simply, overwritten. You didn't really need it especially considering you already have the explaining of the Ilfa Tree, Gaia and Terra as your disposal which is already a lot to take in. Now you need to explain Garland's master plan involving soulds and Gaia/Terra and who Kuja and Zidane really are? This is called "too many cooks in the kitchen" and even though it tends to keep it all somewhat clear (though Necron is never fully clear) it bombards you with it in the final third of the story. Too much, too soon. It should be woven, not just told to us like children during a fifteen minute cutscene which the laziest form of script writing you could ask for. It's frustrating to see and even think about because FFIX handled itself so well up to that point. Hours upon hours of story nearly ruined in a span of thirty minutes.

-~The Dumbness and Restrictions of Mist~

In the world of Final Fantasy IX, you have what is known as the Ilfa Tree. From it comes this mysterious mist which, even more mysteriously, is able to be utilized as a power source. Think of it as steam, if you will. Now, let me first say that the mist is a nice idea as it covers our main continent. It is used as a sort of “fuel” due to its properties that we never fully explained on, but adds an element to the world's own mythology.
That is until you realize it's entirely there for plot convenience, not really to evolve the game's world. You see, it powers things like airships and buildings on our main continent, but outside of that the world is bland and uninteresting. It's used more as an excuse than anything of any relevance. Then when you come to be told it's also
What's worse is that the convenience of it reveals itself even more when you realize this world has boats...and boats have sails...and sails don't need mist. So you start scratching your head and realize that the entire world outside of this main continent should not only be charted (because apparently it's not) but are perfectly habitable areas for people to live in. The world is old, and these people haven't ever got to a boat and looked out upon the world? Seeing as how there's a history of power hungry leaders in Gaia, it's surprising there's not a ton of outer-mist-continent colonies about refining minerals and staking claims.

The narrative oddity and nearly useless of Mist leads us to...
Wasted Opportunities

~The Rest of the World~

Remember that whole "Mist" thing? Well, guess what. Mist is not only a pretty pointless plot device, but it's also used as an excuse for a lackluster world for it all to take place in. Let first say that the way the game is structured, you don't really notice it at first. The main continent, the one covered in Mist, is masterfully realized. It's interesting, feels intelligently connected and well thought out and is used as a solid central area to take our adventure on. The place is varied, green, sometimes strikingly beautiful. The main continent is one of the finest examples of a "fantasy land" the series has ever done.

Then you venture outside it. The world is brown, lifeless, dull. Sure, the story might say "it's because there's no mist" but Mist really only is there to be used as a power source, ala steam. Are you to tell me the world would be brown and dull and uninteresting because there's no Mist at all? Is it some sort of pollination the Mist causes? The fact is this: outside the main continent, the world of Final Fantasy IX is just a bland dull rock of uselessness. Oh, there's some interesting indvidual spots here and there, and like the mian continent there's a "history" or sense of purpose to the locations - something Final Fantasy IX is good in, but it's sure boring as hell to get to those and really not even worth the effort because, if you recall, you'll be getting into a boring battle every three steps.

As a result, the entire world is much smaller than you even realize. There's simply nothing to do or go on with the other two larger masses the world has, and you can't h
elp but think if the budget was cut and they just made do with it all. To this, it makes me wonder - why bother? Why not have the main countries of this world be a part of a larger landmass (such as fantasy often does, Lord of the Rings a perfect example) and not try to shoe-horn in an entire world. That's just unbelievable and nonsensical. I'd be much more inclined to believe that there's a boundary that nobody has crossed and there lies places like Kuja's desert palace than I am to believe that nobody got in a boat and sailed to explore. 

Perhaps this comes from the lack of establishing a history of the world. In reality, all the Final Fantasy games rarely go into the story of what happened before the events of the game. It touches here and there, maybe past wars and leaders, but is overall really shallow. I don't think Final Fantasy IX ever attempts to explain why the rest of the world just sucks other than "there's no mist there" as if Mist is the end all, be all of everything. I think the story wanted to have a slight environmental message here, Mist being a commodity to the world of Gaia as oil is here (or Mako in Final Fantasy VII, far more blunt) but it's never really delved into. 

And that's the thing - it shouldn't be. It shouldn't be an issue. So instead of trying to use it to explain why the world is so uninteresting outside our main land, just don't bother with the world at all. Expand that main land, and you might have yourself quite the setting. As it's just a wasted effort.


~Freya and Amarant~

The lack of conviction doesn't end there. Let's look at two characters in particular: Freya Crescent and Amarant Coral are two rather prominent characters in the story. The way they're set up and the time given to them, you'd think they'd be pretty well developed and interesting. Well, they start off that way, but ultimately go nowhere. Amarant we can get out of the way easily on how he is pretty much wasted in the story: his personality is pretty much the same as Freya's and his purpose is never really clearly defined. He never shows a sign of having any concern to anything and he's a turn off from the very beginning. Yet, you can't help but say to yourself "a bounty hunter with a conscience" could have been a great idea for a character. Instead, they make him the quiet recluse that is overshadowed by the other pessimistic character, on to her.
Freya is the shining example of a character foundation built brilliantly, but the roof never finished, so all you're really left with is a frame of what could have been a great structure. Her story is as follows: Freya is a Dragon Knight and a member of the race known as Bermicians who are more or less dying off. Years prior to the events of the game, Freya's love vanished on a mission. She was stricken with grief until, ultimately she set out to find him and would not return home until she did.

So far so good. That's romanticized case of chivalry and love with the attribute of a role-reversal of the woman looking for her lost love rather than a man.

And that's all you really ever get. Eventually she meets up with Zidane on her journeys, a person she's run into in the past, and as the game goes on her backstory of her and her people reveals itself. The Burmecians are interesting, their homelands well thoughts out and there's a certain element that kind of feels natural despite them being non-humans. They feel old and a part of the world, and Freya's story seemed to be a great sub plot.

Then it slaps you in the face with the idea that it didn't want to dwell on this subplot. Freya's love returns at one point in the game...and he has amnesia...then he leaves again....then she goes out to look for him again by traveling with Zidane and company. It's almost insulting. You can nearly feel the writers not wanting to go further with the character they've put some time and thought into, have her love show up, then have her "over" the fact she knows he's alive and that's all she wanted. From that point on, it's never brought up again. Ever. 

Really? You're going to just undermine everything she worked up for up to that point so quickly? 

On paper, Freya could have had a fantastic story to her, but the way its presented, and the rather haphazard and seemingly random insertions of her character arc, is treated as irrelevant and unimportant. The reason why is because it is irrelevant and unimportant. Unlike everyone else's story (Vivi, Steiner, Zidane and Garnet or even Eiko), Freya's tale of lost love isn't as woven into the fabric of the main plot. It kind of just comes and goes. I think the writers knew this, hence the sudden sharp turn of her character.

Yet, I might, (note: might) have forgiven that approach if it weren't for the ending. In the final moments we see Freya and her love Sir Fratley together with the theme of the dialogue basically dealing with "staring anew." With this, you can't help but call "bullshit." You can't just throw in a character arc and a history, then complete neglect it only to toss it back at us at the very end with no explanation. Freya is like a book you read a third of then skip towards the end. And so we have an absolute waste of a character and uniquely sounding story that is disheartening and completely dissatisfying. Perhaps if they didn't start her so strong, perhaps if they didn't suddenly have Fratley appear, perhaps if they didn't have the amnesia angle and just kept her always searching and maybe finding him at the end...perhaps then you could have had one of the best supporting characters in RPG history. As it is, you have a half-hearted rat-human Dragon Knight that is utterly forgettable, and that's a sad thing.

~Eiko is Pointless~
Like Freya, I kind of like Eiko. She's the spunky annoying character but, unlike other characters such as Yuffie or Selphie, is a little kid and I can buy her personality a little more. Yet here's Eiko's whole problem: she's Princess Garnet "light" - half the flavor and far less filling. Eiko has no voice of her own despite her personality. She is barely relevant to the story, other than to help explain Garnet's past, and isn't relevant in battle at all because she had the exact same abilities as Garnet as well. She doesn't have the ties as well as Garnet, who had the benefit of her kingdom, her mother and Zidane, but it tries desperately hard to make them.

It's as though the game knows this, too. One thing I do like is how Eiko has a crush on Zidane. This is sweet and cute and innocent as a child's crush is...but it's also just a reminder that Zidane and Garnet are the couple. So what is Eiko left with? A sudden change in purpose as it shifts from that to the desire of having parents. At the very end, she's adopted by Regent Cid and his wife.
I'm sorry...did they even meet? Why would this happen off screen?
Why? Because the game needed to figure out how to end her story and that's the best they could come up with.

This is a problem with a lot of RPGs, don't get me wrong. There's usually a core group that is given the most time and effort, which we covered in Part II, then there's a few supporting characters that are decent enough, then there's throwaway characters you don't care about. You can't put effort into every single one with equal measure, even the great Final Fantasy VI didn't do that. Eiko is a throwaway character that really was throwaway by accident rather than design. You can see there's time and effort put into her, but it's as though they completely forgot they had a character already that covered all the bases Eiko was expected to cover. As a result, Eiko is barely above the actual throwaway character, Quina Quen. Hell, they couldn't even give her a proper full name, taking Amarant's last name and swapping the "o" and the "a." That's just lazy.

Outweighing the Odds
Nothing is perfect, as they say. So when it comes to things like Final Fantasy IX, this fact needs to be understood. It's a unique game by its design not setting itself out to be unique. This comes with various pros and cons and, in the end, it's a game that people seem to either love or be lukewarm to. I've never met anyone who outright hates it on this world wide web, but many can take it or leave it, for certain.

I am probably one that loves it, but I'm not blinded by this fact. Like any good critic, I can see and look at the faults of something, and Final Fantasy IX has its fair share of faults. The difference with me and others that love the game is that we accept the faults but, more importantly, admire and love the things it does right. It's a balancing act, and Final Fantasy IX is one of those things that really rides that balance close to the vest. There's many things that are good but don't really distinguish itself, such as the music, and a select things that are great and bad, such as the thematic motifs and dialogue and the gameplay design that stretches throughout the many hours you put into it.
It's a game that also doesn't have a large, passionate faction either way. Those that are lukewarm to it are fine if someone loves it, and those that love it are fine with someone can take it or leave it. It doesn't have the fanatical either way, which is odd because nearly every other Final Fantasy title seems to have this and Final Fantasy fans, in general, are pretty fervent about their series.

I suppose it boils down to the mutual understanding that Final Fantasy IX is, more or less, a take it or leave it game. Even those that love it tend to understand this fact and can see the dividing nature of it. I've never seen anyone get passionate if someone says something disparaging against it and I've never seen anyone outright say "you're stupid for liking this game" to anyone either.

While I'm a staunch believer that anything can be looked at objectively, and I hope I managed to express that in this third part, this three-part look at Final Fantasy IX, obviously, is a completely subjective work. That's the point of it all. I'm not trying to sway one way or the other the readers of this article to see my view, just to be aware of it. For me, it is a game I love, even though I might not put it overly high on a personal favorites list. It squeezes into my Top 10 from time to time, but a lot of that depends on how I'm feeling that day. So why do the odds of what is good outweigh those that are bad for me, personally? For one, I loved its approach to its story despite the dips to cliche. It's told smartly and surprisingly clear with not a lot of room for plot holes, forced plot devices and loose end. That's number one for me because I felt I hadn't played an RPG that just took its time with its story and tended to focus on "events" rather than weaving itself nicely. The second element was the tonality of it, its ability to balance a rather serious question with a sense of lightness rather than a heavy hand (though that hand does show up in some key areas, as I've noted). It doesn't dwell often on exposition and I honestly felt that it tolds its story better visually (I am a proponent of show, don't tell) than we'd seen up to that point - Final Fantasy IX is very, very well directed game. As a result of this, it never feels like it's talking down to you.The fourth thing is the art design, some of the best, true fantasy art we'd seen from Square that is a combination of steampunk and classic fantasy devices (Lindblum alone earns a lot of that credit as one of the genre's best designed locations). Honestly, if Final Fantasy VI was remade with pre-rendered, artistic backgrounds, it would probably look a lot like Final Fantasy IX, and seeing as how Final Fantasy VI is my favorite game from the series, I'm sure that has a lot to do with my personal enjoyment of the title. Truth me told, I think a lot of the Hayao Miyazaki-esque style and approaches to art and storytelling has a lot to do with my enjoyment as well as his work often shares similar themes and ideas. In fact, I love the art so much I have the Final Fantasy IX artbook and the detail and time spent into the design of this world (the good part of it, mind you) is astounding. I just  liked its "old style" to everything. Some worked better than others, but are thoughtful and the nostalgic trip and overall "thanks Final Fantasy" feel is something it excels at from art to script.

But here's the major thing that makes my personal fondness of Final Fantasy IX, and I don't expect others to share it or even see it: death. If you go back to the first few paragraphs in Part One, I mentioned losing a number family members in a rather short period of time. I replayed Final Fantasy IX years after these events and my opinion changed. Why?

It's an easy answer, actually: a personal experience was reflected. It's like when you break up with a significant other and you listen to depressing love ballads. What's more is I really hadn't dealt with the concept of death outside of movies and television. It's quite different when it happens close to you when compared to just watching it happen to someone else. So what was it that I saw in Final Fantasy IX? Well, it wasn't comfort, necessarily, as it was a unique look and, perhaps, a directness to the idea of everyone passing on and us dealing with it in different ways. I was well over the deaths by now but I couldn't help but see a little bit of my numerous, numerous thoughts I had during that period creep up and be addressed in Final Fantasy IX. It ran the gamut of emotions as anyone who deals with the loss of a family member might have. Some were brief and fleeting, others were sad and depressing. It didn't sit you down and say "it's alright." I had enough of that by then and like I said, it doesn't talk down to you. But it does sit and say "human emotion is complex, and death the most complex undertaking in every facet. There is no right or wrong way in dealing with it, but it will pass in whatever path you choose to deal with it in."

A personal touch? Certainly. Does it make the game a masterpiece? Certainly not. But it does make it something that I can relate to, and that's more than I can say for any other video game ever made. While I can admire other games more for their completeness and uniqueness, their craft even, they aren't going to quite have that personal attachment that this single, one game has. It's not a nostalgic trip or something that made an impression on me as a videogamer, it was something a little more than that and the only videogame I can say that actually does it (there's countless songs, books and movies that do it as well, so Final Fantasy IX is in a select group). 

It was at this point I started to understand what my movie criticism professor was addressing: the separate subjective and objective self. We can be critical of something and maybe even see it as "bad" but that doesn't necessarily mean we won't have a personal fondness, attachment or even love of it. As a result, it's one of those things you kind of understand others not enjoying because they don't have that personal appreciation for it. It was a right place and right time for me as well, so even if someone has dealt with death in their own time doesn't mean they'll play it and see what I see as well.

Either way, subjective or objective theorizing aside, you should play it. There's no reason to not play Final Fantasy IX, if anything pick it up for the pretty pictures and atmosphere (which gets quite a few RPGs by alone) - it's far too creative to just ignore in that aspect. Even its detractors will still recommend it to people because, while it may not push the envelope, it's a well made game despite its problems. Though, like them, I would probably recommend a good number of games first. Final Fantasy IX is my personal title, yet not my favorite if that makes any sense. Maybe there's a title you have an extensive fondness for as well. Not just one that makes you think of your childhood or was a "first" for you, but something that, within its digital walls, somehow spoke to you, moved you, maybe had you thinking here and there of things that a more than just videogames. Life. Death. Love. Despair. Understanding. Acceptance. It goes on.

It's a trip, purposefully so, down memory lane and though it comes at some costs, it manages to handle all with a sense of maturity and adult appeal, not to mention polish that, quite honestly, has been lacking in Japanese RPGs and especially in the Final Fantasy series. I had considered doing a list of all the past Final Fantasy references, but that would kind of ruin the fun. It's made for fans, and half the fun is being surprised by those little nods. That and it would take far too long to assess them all and list it out. And this three-part article has already gone overtime. Throw in artistry, atmosphere, storytelling with intelligent thematic motifs (life is, indeed, a stage it seems) and a hell of a good localization, and you have a solid RPG that may not be for everyone, but everyone should probably pick up at some point and will probably find some things to like about it no matter how turned off they might be by its various faults.

In the closing moments of Final Fantasy IX, a letter is read as images of the characters and scenes play. It's written by the character Vivi who, by this point, has passed away. I was confused at the time until I realized the arc for him couldn't have ended any other way, and it took some gutso by the writers to see it through. It's not on screen. I like to think of him, quietly, passing on in his home surrounded by his "children." I can only hope I'm so lucky.



AddThis Social Bookmark Button