Final Fantasy XIII

I can't even express how good it feels to have finally gotten to this point. Final Fantasy XIII, like most other FF games, is absolutely massive. You could probably tell by the fact that I've written three articles about this game before this review that I have quite a few opinions on it. I've had the game since its release day, and I've just gotten to the point where I feel as though I can talk about it lucidly. And boy, is there a lot to talk about.

In essence, Final Fantasy XIII is like Square Enix falling into a coma, waking from said coma, finding that the entire world has changed, and having to relearn how to do everything all over again. The game feels familiar, and yet, is so radically different from everything else in the Final Fantasy canon that it barely feels like a Final Fantasy game. That's both a compliment and a criticism, which is pretty indicative of this up and down game.

In what is essentially the longest tutorial in gaming history, the first two-thirds of the game take place on the planet of Cocoon, which is sort of like a moon except that it resides inside the atmosphere of its host planet, Pulse. If those names themselves weren't giveaways of what sorts of things to expect on each planet, here's some pointers: Cocoon is futuristic, cold, claustrophobic, and robotic (in an extremely anime sort of way), while Pulse is expansive, robust, wild and dangerous. This sets up the "dual world" dichotomy that is so prevalent in many Japanese RPGs and action games (A Link to the Past and Metroid Prime 2 come to mind), but in Final Fantasy XIII, the two worlds are used to show a polarity of living styles and belief systems, not to mention a physical, widened gulf between the two groups of people who live on each planet (and hate each other accordingly).

Unfortunately for FFXIII, the plot of this game is convoluted beyond all measure, and the requisite humanism that Final Fantasy founder Hironobu Sakaguchi did so well in games like Final Fantasy IV and Chrono Trigger is all but completely absent in this game. Because the game likes to use somewhat complicated jargon to describe what are ultimately simple concepts, I've made a legend for you (in MS Paint!) so that you can refer to it whenever I discuss the plot:

So, for the uninitiated or for those who don't stick through the game, these terms can seem pretty baffling at first, but keep one thing in mind for the plot – it's essentially a game-long criticism of the lack of free will when dealing with dogmatic religious fundamentalism. With that out of the way, the ideas that the game is trying to promote come into focus (pun unintended).

You play as… well, six different protagonists during the course of the game. This is perhaps the first sign of trouble with the game, as it doesn't give the player the opportunity to properly identify with any of them. Of the six, the strongest characters are undoubtedly Lightning (essentially a female version of Cloud from FFVII, minus the self-loathing and the amnesia) and Sazh, who at first glance appears to be a racial caricature (and based on his physical appearance, replete with afro, he should be), but is actually the most well-developed and human character of the bunch. The rest are kind of a mixed bag. Vanille is (spoiler alert) from Pulse, wears skimpy animal pelts, speaks with an Australian accent and is irrepressibly bubbly. This wouldn't normally be a problem except that the developers seem to have gone out of their way to make her as fragile and annoying as possible, essentially offsetting all the good character development they did with Lightning. Take that, feminism!

Rounding out the cast are Hope, your standard issue gray-haired emo kid who engages in the worst kind of Idiot Plot the game can throw at him. Seriously, one or two words with your enemy and you'd have your sadness sorted out, kid. Fang is also from Pulse and seems to harbour attraction towards Vanille – kudos for including what seems to be a lesbian character, but unkudos for never exploring that idea in depth, Square Enix. And finally… fucking Snow. Possibly one of the worst characters in a Final Fantasy game, Snow is aesthetically designed to piss you off right from the start. He looks like the world's biggest douchebag and has self-styled himself as Humanity's Saviour, having started NORA. He constantly talks about saving the world, and is completely unironic about it. I hate every moment he's on screen, and I try to avoid using him as much as possible.

These characters are all interestingly designed in that fantastical Japanese realism/anime combo that seems to be Square's speciality (although I'd say that Lightning's design is the only one that's actually any good), but the game gets way, way too wrapped up in the machinations of its plot. The thing that has made past Final Fantasy games so engaging is that they're dedicated to exploring characters wrapped up in huge conflicts. This can push the series into the melodramatic (which happens all the goddamn time in this game), but more often than not, you can identify with the characters, despite how the games are designed to affect outsider teenagers the most. Playing through Final Fantasy IV at the same time as this game was a good reminder of how far off the path Square Enix went with their characters in this game. Cecil's tribulations and his attempts to become a righteous man in that game are effective, and for their time, some of the most sophisticated storytelling that console RPGs had ever seen.

In this game, though, all changes in characters are relegated to the surface level. Hope is sad, then he's angry, then he's not sad and angry anymore, but determined. Lightning is taciturn, and then less taciturn. Sazh is hopeless, then kind of OK with everything. Snow is a douche… and remains a douche. Seriously, fuck that guy. But none of these characters make that transformation that is only possible with a slowly unfolding narrative, and given the amount of time they have to transform, the fact that it doesn't really happen is disappointing.

OK, the plot: the game opens with you knowing literally nothing about the characters you're in control of (a Final Fantasy staple at this point). You start the game with Lightning and Sazh, who have decided to derail a train that is full of people who have been "tainted" by their contact with a fal'Cie from Pulse. See, there's a number of fal'Cie (that's the singular and the plural, by the way) that rule over both Pulse and Cocoon, as well as a fal'Cie for Sanctum, the Shinra rip-off with just a hint of theocracy thrown in for good measure.

The reason why this "purge" is happening is that the citizens of Cocoon have been made incredibly xenophobic of anything from Pulse by the Sanctum, and believe that even being around something from Pulse is reason enough to ship them off of Cocoon and down to Pulse, which is repeatedly referred to as "Hell." If there's supposed to be an Iraq/Afghanistan war comparison being made here, it's only incidentally, I think. JRPGs are often much more concerned with what they consider to be more "universal" emotions and signifiers, and not through allegorical references to current events – besides, so many of the films and videogames and TV shows that are being made now are unconsciously informed by the events of the War on Terror. FFXIII has perhaps inherited this, but not internalized it – the game is far from gritty.

Meanwhile, NORA, Snow's AVALANCHE-type group, are locked in eternal battle with the Sanctum. Snow has been busy rounding up normal citizens who are fed up with the Sanctum to fight back, and in an early battle, he accidentally leads a woman who is coincidentally also named Nora to her death. Nora is Hope's mom, and Hope blames Snow for killing her. That's where the Idiot Plot comes in, because the game could clear up the ten or so hours of angst that Hope has just by letting the two of them talk for like, two minutes. So frustrating!

Vanille is also one of the people who Snow has enlisted to help fight with NORA, although with her tiny wrists you'd wonder what good she would be at fighting. No matter; she's there, and these aren't the concerns one has with a Final Fantasy game. Through a series of events, these five people end up thrown together so that they can escape the city they're in and get away from the Sanctum.

Once they leave the city, though, all hell breaks loose. The Pulse fal'Cie decides that it's going to turn all of them into Pulse l'Cie, and has given them a Focus to do… well, they're not too sure what. Focuses appear as a series of seemingly unrelated images, and it's up to the receiver of the Focus to figure it out. As a reminder of what will happen to them if they complete their Focus, the game introduces Serah, who is Lightning's sister and Snow's fiancee. She was turned into a l'Cie before the events of the game, and when she completes her Focus, she turns into crystal forever. Had she not completed her Focus, she'd be a Cie'th monster, roaming the wilds, killing dudes who get in her way.

From there, the plot becomes much more straightforward. The newly branded l'Cie have to figure out what their focus is, destroy Sanctum, and make sure that Cocoon is saved. Along the way, they become disillusioned with the fal'Cie, and contend with the Pope-like head of the Sanctum, the Primarch (who is the closest thing the game has to a villain, and is barely given any screen time. He's not the sort to motivate you to move through the game like, say, Sephiroth or Kefka were).

I've talked mostly about characters and plot so far because those are the things that separate a good Final Fantasy game from a bad one. In essence, all of the Final Fantasy games are really poorly designed. Gameplay and narrative exist as two separate ideas, and in an FF game, the former is simply a way to move through the latter. The problem with FFXIII is that in previous games, there were other elements – character development, side missions that broke up some of the monotony of level grinding, and this feeling of, if not a complete world, one that has had a lot of love poured into it.

Final Fantasy XIII has been boiled down to the barest essentials, though. It's simply Gameplay and Narrative, and the two never overlap. So, in essence, for fifty hours, you're going to be doing these things – 1) Running. 2) Battling. 3) Managing inventory and leveling up your character. 4) Watching cutscenes. And that's it.

Luckily for the game, though, the battling in this game is fantastic, and is the most fun I've had with turn based battles since Chrono Trigger (and, I'm assuming, Chrono Cross, although I haven't gotten to play that game yet. Summer time, here we come!). The game manages to do what all other Final Fantasy battle systems have done, but in a new way. You're only in control of the party leader, and the AI controls the other two characters you fight with. Your standard attacking and potion using and such is still present, but instead of just being able to do one thing per Active Time Battle, you can now chain together combinations of things to do. The combinations, however, are dictated by your Role. Each Role does things that you could do in other FF games. For instance, a Medic is like a White Mage – they can cast Cure, Esuna, Cura, etc. The other five Roles are Saboteur (can cast Slow, Poison, Curse, etc.), Sentinel (ups their defence and draws enemy enmity so that the other two characters can concentrate on taking them down), Synergist (can cast Haste, Protect, Shell, etc.), Commando (does your standard attacking moves), and Ravager (basically, a black Mage). Each character starts off with three of these Roles, but can eventually learn all of them.

So say you've got a situation where you want to hit the enemy hard and fast. Then you might have a group with a Commando and two Ravagers. But what if the enemy starts kicking your ass? Well, you can change your Roles on the fly by doing a "Paradigm Shift" (which isn't nearly as business-speak as it sounds), and have, say, a Sentinel, a Commando and a Medic. You stay in control of just what your character is doing, but by changing Paradigms, it's the same as calling out commands for Cure or Shell, but just done in a different way.

The battles are fierce and entertaining, and were definitely the part of the game I enjoyed the most. Unfortunately, this wasn't enough to save the game from its plot and characters, which are the reason I play Final Fantasy games, but it must be known that this system, complicated though it is, is quite fun. I don't foresee a time when this battle system will be as ubiquitous as the Active Time Battle system (nor should it be, as it's incredibly idiosyncratic), but it definitely works for this game.

There are battles out the wazoo, and since this is pretty much the only thing you have control over in the game, it's nice that they're varied. Different enemies will require extremely different strategies, and I really appreciated that for the most part, you could get by using logic rather than a walkthrough. The only time where I had to consult one was for the various Eidolon battles. Basically, to get a summon monster like Bahamut or Odin to join your team, you have to defeat them first. They're basically huge puzzle battles, and while quite a bit of fun, figuring out how to beat them on your own can be a challenge. (I think I should point out here that while the summon monsters are – as always – pretty durned badass, it's so stupid that your summons are also vehicles. Yes, you can ride around on a motorcycle version of Shiva. This is the sort of thing that would cause John Cameron to call this game "interminable anime bullshit.")

Beyond the specific failings of the plot and the characters, where Final Fantasy XIII fails most spectacularly is in presenting a legitimate world to you. Because of the game's ridiculously gorgeous graphics, sacrifices needed to be made so that the game could run well, so many of the Final Fantasy staples that actually make the games good are gone. Towns that you can actually interact with? Nowhere to be found. Side missions that don't involve killing things? Try again!

Most bafflingly of all, though, is the game's insistence on sending you down tight corridors, literally funneling you towards your objective. Openness has always been a bit of a fallacy in Final Fantasy games. Sure, they let you go where you want, but they also STRONGLY SUGGEST that you go the way that they have dictated is best. That decision isn't even available in this game, and the physical design of (most) of the areas of the game is claustrophobic and kind of depressing. The fact that this lines up entirely with the first two-thirds of the game (in Cocoon) makes the game's demands that you save Cocoon seem, well, not all that important. It's such a depressing place; why would I want to save it?

Besides cutscenes where the characters take a break around a campfire or something, the game never lets you, the player, take a break. In previous Final Fantasy games, despite the fact that you are essentially "performing" as the main character, the game still allows you to feel as though you have some part in the proceedings. In this game, your role is reduced to that of a marionettist, leading your incredibly life-like puppet through a series of scripted adventures. Player agency is completely tossed by the wayside, and with just the simple inclusion of some towns, I think this could have been alleviated.

For a series so renowned for its music (see Vinyl Fantasy 7 for proof), Final Fantasy XIII's soundtrack is all over the place – it reminded me of Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles: The Crystal Bearers, and not in a good way. While the battle music is epic and catchy, so many of the other pieces are really ill suited to the game. Leona Lewis's song that plays incessantly throughout the game is a tepid, MOR adult contemporary J-Pop version of what Square Enix thought sounded good. And it gets worse from there. The chocobo theme has had really terrible lyrics added to it, and sometimes the game will throw in a harmonica or a harpsicord into the mix in really inappropriate places. Not to mention that the orchestral pieces, while bombastic, are pretty atonal and didn't really stick with me. Music in a game like this is really important, and it's disappointing that they failed so miserably with it.

So, the game's problematic. The weird thing is, I still quite enjoyed it. I know I shouldn't have. I didn't give two shits about the story or the characters, and had serious problems with the design of the game. Still, despite the fact that Sakaguchi hasn't been involved in the series for some time now and his humanist stamp is completely absent from this game (by the way, so excited for his collab with Nintendo on The Last Story, which appears to be a Final Fantasy killer if there ever was one), the collective weight of Final Fantasy nostalgia compels you to play through the entire game, and I occasionally found some of the bigger themes the game tentatively played with to be intriguing. There were bouts of five hour stretches where I really enjoyed the game and would put it on the same level as some of my favourite Final Fantasy games, but the "downtime" then brought me back to reality. This game is a supremely flawed experiment, and here's hoping that Square Enix can wake out of their coma in time for a return to form in Final Fantasy XV.