Final Fantasy VII Remake: More than Nostalgia

Twenty-three years ago, I got home excitedly from school, ran into my bedroom, flung my heavy backpack on the floor, and booted up my Playstation to play Squaresoft’s Final Fantasy VII for the first time. I remember the awkward but charming expressiveness of the stubby polygonal characters, the mind-blowing cinematics, the great cast, and the fantastic combat. I would obsess over and return to this game for years to come, devouring every detail of its story, secrets, splendor. A month ago, I got home from work, slipped out of my not-so-heavy backpack (still love ‘em), and sat down to play the full Final Fantasy VII Remake, a sense of cautious excitement building in me in much the same way as when I was a kid. I’m happy to say, about 50 hours of gameplay later, that I’ve walked away from the reimagining of one of my favorite childhood experiences impressed, satisfied, and a little surprised. I wasn’t a fan of the most recent Final Fantasy XV, and expected FFVIIR to be similarly action-focused and shallow. I quickly learned I couldn’t have been more wrong. 

FFVII Remake builds upon its predecessor rather than using it as simple source material. Everything I loved about the original is here with gameplay elements that improve the formula rather than dilute it. This isn’t a lazy re-hash leaning on reputation or a cash-grab based on branding alone. FFVIIR is a lovingly crafted experience, an ode to fans complete with, for better and worse, the depth and quirks of the original.

You’ll spend most of your time fighting a plethora of enemies, which is great because combat is fun and challenging. The traditional turn-based RPG gameplay is replaced with a more action-oriented approach, but don’t mistake that for simplicity. Players have up to three characters in their party at a time and switch direct control between them at will. Each character has basic attacks, blocks, and dodges, and a unique attack command. Cloud can switch to a high damage-dealing mode with counterattacks, Barret can launch a devastating attack that charges over time, Tifa can unleash powerful combos, and Aerith can charge up a powerful blast. As characters attack, each has two gauges that fill, enabling players to input magic, ability, and item commands. Favorites can be assigned to shortcuts to keep the action going, or players access the command menu at the press of a button to peruse everything available while time slows to a crawl. These gauges act as a limited resource, so choosing the right commands at the right time are paramount. Furthermore, spells cost magic points, or MP, another limited resource, so choosing to cast more powerful spells, or casting spells too frequently, can quickly limit the party’s options. What results is a sensitive, but fun, balancing act. I quickly found myself switching between characters often to harness their strengths and issuing multiple commands at a time. I rarely used the shortcuts because I found the slowdown while accessing the command menu so useful for reassessing the battlefield. Overall, I was pleasantly surprised by the fluidity and control in combat. 

It’s a good thing the system is fun to master because enemies are not run-of-the-mill static pushovers. Enemies have varied weaknesses like specific elements or attack types or real-time windows of opportunity. Taking advantage of these weaknesses or attacking an enemy enough pushes them into a staggered state, multiplying all damage they receive. Many have attacks that interrupt spells and abilities or otherwise incapacitate the party, so timing is everything. Bosses mix up the action with creative behaviors and patterns, sometimes controlling whole swaths of the battlefield until staggered. In short, enemy makeup demands more than just spamming basic or high-damage attacks; tactics, strategy, and positioning are keys to success.

The game’s equipment and materia system enable abilities and spells. One of my major fears was that Square-Enix would sacrifice the original game’s amazing materia and equipment for ease and simplicity, but instead we find a robust and flexible system. Materia, orbs imbued with power, is still slotted into weapons and armor, giving the character access to spells, abilities, summons, and other effects. Any character can use any materia, inviting players to experiment. Materia levels up over time, granting access to more powerful--and more expensive--spells or enhanced effects, so choosing what materia to use is also a long-term goal. In the original game, magic materia usually came with a stat cost, diminishing physical stats while strengthening magical stats. This time around, materia only increases specific stats, so there are no drawbacks to loading anyone with a bunch of magic. I thought a change like that would disappoint me, but with so much else to balance in the game, I didn’t find this to be a loss.

New to FFVIIR, characters learn unique abilities from their weapons, outlining certain roles players can take advantage of if they want. Barret, for instance, can take damage in place of the rest of the party, making him ideal for any gear or materia that buff him into a tank. It’s an obvious choice, but not the only one. Each character has enough weapons with wildly different stats and there’s enough armor and accessories for some serious flexibility in build. Tack onto that a leveling system for each individual weapon enabling other stat bonuses or traits, and one player's party can differ vastly from another’s. Some of my favorite sections of gameplay force the use of specific characters, challenging me to reassess my setup for a more effective strategy. Even if certain characters are unavailable to use, their gear and materia are still accessible, ensuring players are never stuck with a bum load out. No choice feels unimportant or frivolous, and making changes on the fly is easy and encouraged. 

The story itself remains intact with all the important beats we expect and with some we don’t. FFVIIR only covers the beginning of the original game, converting a mere handful of hours into a full fifty-hour long adventure. This meant the developers could explore the characters and locations in more depth, but there’s a ton of character development we don’t experience because it takes place later in the story. The benefit is we get a deeper sense of culture and lifestyle in Midgar and a more thorough understanding of many characters’ motivations. The downside is that since this is only act one, there’s much that hasn’t been explored by the time the credits roll, and if I didn’t already know the narrative like the back of my hand, I might’ve even been confused. An over-the-top ending adds some unnecessary and somewhat confusing foreshadowing while introducing some heady themes around the main antagonist that just aren’t explored enough. It didn’t ruin the experience, but the steady and enjoyable train jumps the rails a bit, and I felt the events didn’t benefit the game or the narrative much. I enjoyed most of FFVIIR’s differences in storytelling from the original, and I can’t wait for the next release to continue the adventure.

Aside from the main story, certain chapters feature side missions and combat challenges. Neither take up too much time, and their rewards are substantial, making them worthwhile for that merit alone. Sidequests often give a glimpse into the lives of the downtrodden, giving a bit more depth to the city, while combat challenges are fun and offer some of the most challenging scenarios. They are also both easily skippable for anyone that would rather power through the main storyline, though that player would miss out on some powerful assets. In the end, I enjoyed them as quick diversions at the least and tough tests of skill and knowledge at their best.

Gripes I have are mostly minor. Some facial animations on NPCs don’t match up to their script, resulting in some silly-, if not downright scary-looking lip-stretching and air-chewing, which is a bit shameful for a game of this caliber. The rest of the game is so damn gorgeous, it feels odd that some facial animations were overlooked. Lots of quirks typical of Final Fantasy remain, like mini-games (mostly fun), errand-running (go talk to folks), and strange NPCs that some may find awkward and unnecessary (random hand massage? Sure, what the hell). These are usually all in fun, giving the game some charm, but sometimes I felt the pace of the experience ground to a slog, or that the mood would swing wildly from grim seriousness to outlandish tomfoolery much too quickly. This is nothing new to the Final Fantasy namesake, so take it as you will.  

Regardless, this was a fantastic game, and any fan of the core material will most likely enjoy it. If nostalgia is all you’re lining up for, there’s that in droves, and the euphoric power of the music, action, art, and narrative will be enough for any FFVII fan. Here, the past also meets excellent design, so anyone who’s unfamiliar with the original still has a great experience ahead of them, and most of the story will make perfect sense. All my fears assuaged, all my doubts proven wrong, FFVII Remake has found a permanent, loving place in my heart. It’s just a bummer we have to wait for the rest, but I’ll be here, even more excited for the next release.

Marmoset’s Brew: Remember the first drink you really enjoyed? Maybe that drink’s remained an old favorite, something you revisit that the first taste of illicits wholesome good feelings. Mine would be Disarrono or the Oatmeal Stout. That’s the drink FFVIIR is: reliable, delicious, and by the last drop you can’t help but want more.

Celeste

At the 2018 Game Developer’s Conference in San Francisco, I had the pleasure of sitting down to a short session of Celeste. This platformer, by independent developer Matt Makes Games, seemed cute at first glance, with its charmingly cartoonish character frames and beautiful, pixelated art style, and I had heard rumors about its ability to inspire positivity and perseverance in others, specifically the depressed and suicidal. That’s a tall order, I thought, and I love great narratives, so why not check it out? In my short half-hour with the game on the expo floor, I jammed through the first few levels, which I found intensely fun and reasonably challenging. I enjoyed it enough that I knew I needed to play it, so once back home in Hawai'i, I did.

Celeste is a precise platformer that requires surgical timing, lightning reflexes, and astute analysis and planning. It’s a type of game that I don’t really play anymore, because I’m an adult with a job and lots of hobbies. Writing’s hard enough, why torture myself with an ultra-precise challenge like Celeste? Learning to make pixel-perfect jumps over chasms and between obstacles doesn’t really appeal to me. I promised myself I’d finish it though, to discover what the deal is with this profound effect it has on its players. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Celeste indeed contains a meaningful narrative that is reinforced and informed by its gameplay, and though the experience taxed me in ways only my writing usually does, I was inspired to persevere. And that’s an experience that can inform our daily lives.

In Celeste, players jump from platform to platform, the general goal to reach point B from point A. The unique spin on that formula is that players can dash in any direction as well as grip walls for climbing. This changes how we perceive the landscape because there are far more possibilities. With this foundation, each level layers on more depth or challenge by adding moving or temporary platforms, movement-limiting winds, and additional midair dash mechanisms. Respawn points are frequent, so death is encouraged as a learning mechanism and even tracked by a counter for each level. This leads to plenty of exciting moments of discovery, followed by tons of failed attempts at precision, until you finally get that one move right. The game is challenging, but delivers its difficulty one snippet at a time, and this allows the deviously ingenious design to be incredibly fun and rewarding.

With that said, Celeste pushed me in ways many of the games I play don’t. After the first few levels, the precision the game requires ramps up, and I started to have a hard time. Towards the end of the game, that precision tested my ability, patience, and oftentimes, my civility. Expletives and middle fingers sprouted from me like rampant weeds until I could frustratingly admit to myself that I needed a break. This might sound bad, but I was always excited to get back to whatever section I was stuck on with a fresh perspective and positive attitude. The process of encountering a seemingly insurmountable challenge, succumbing to overwhelming failure, and then bouncing back with renewed zeal and persistence is the whole point of Celeste, and its well-written main character emphasizes this.

Threaded within all the jumps, spikes, and near-death landings is a narrative about a girl creating her own inner peace. The girl, who we discover early in the game is running from some heavy internal issues, is forced to deal with her baggage by the magical properties of the mountain Celeste. The mountain manifests these internal issues as external aggressors, like an “evil” version of the main character, demanding that our hero unpack those bags and take a closer look at what she’s lugging around. As I played, pushing myself to overcome the obstacles before me, I felt intense empathy; I could feel her overwhelming sense of defeat and the tantalizing desire to quit. It was easy to put myself in her shoes and reflect on my own obstacles, whether in the game or in my life. This is what good writing is supposed to do. I even renamed the character (a smart design decision), which made me feel like the game was speaking directly to me. I felt the girl’s crushing doubt and insecurity as well as her hopeful persistence and determination.

Matt Makes Games could have easily delivered Celeste without the narrative and character, and it would have been a fun, challenging, expertly crafted platforming experience. Celeste is more, with its writing and design meshed together in such a way that one cannot be divorced from the other, therefore exploring its subject matter sensitively, personally, and with depth. The experience lingers long after the credits roll. Even writing this article, as I got frustrated with a section or felt something wasn't good enough (and never would be), I'd remind myself to breathe for a moment, to take a short break or push through a block, that I'm not perfect and that's okay. Celeste reminds me that I'm a work in progress, that progress requires effort and patience, and that if I find something incredibly hard, I can overcome it.   

Marmoset's Brew: Peyote. It's a deep dive, you're going to see some stuff, and you're going to come out changed for the better. 

Final Fantasy XV: Not Much of a Fantasy

This was a challenging review for me to write. I’ve been a longtime fan of the Final Fantasy series, with faith in it wavering since the Square-Enix merger back in 2000. Final Fantasy XV (FFXV) is both a confirmation of my doubts and reaffirmation of my confidence in the series; for every facet of the game I liked, there were several things that disappointed me. What FFXV lacks is depth and nuance, in ways that weigh it down heavily, leaving a mildly fun game that stumbles and falters in its attempt to be great.

FFXV sends players on a road trip with Prince Noctis and his royal guard buddies, Prompto, Gladiolus, and Ignis, to marry a childhood friend and seal a peace treaty with her country. Events turn sour when Noctis’ home country is betrayed, and once the source of the war and ensuing mayhem is revealed, the fate of the world itself is on the line. Though this sounds exciting, the story stutters and spurts due to lack of information and poor delivery. I found I knew very little about the world and all of its characters twenty hours into the game. Most key characters outside of the main party have only fleeting appearances and leave just an ephemeral imprint and a big space full of disappointment behind. The writers’ attempts to give the four main characters their own personalities, motivations, inner turmoil, or any lasting opinions fall flat until it’s too late; only in the final chapters do Noctis’ friends show any kind of depth. These chapters add some much needed tension, but it feels too little too late. Climactic points that one would expect to offer challenging, thoughtful encounters end up in simple button prompts, sapping events of their drama and energy. What players are left with are typical archetypes and a shallow tale that barely try to be memorable. Outside of the abysmal storytelling lies a playable, moderately entertaining game.

FFXV’s combat system is fluid, but vapid, emphasizing positioning and action over strategy. Players control Noctis’ with just a few commands. Hold a button down and he’ll execute physical attacks, the speeds and combos of which depend on the type of weapon in use. Enemies are weak to different weapon types, and four can be switched to via directional presets. Noctis uses magic points for two central abilities, warp and phase. Warp transports Noctis to enemies for extra damage or to safe spots to restore health and magic points. Dodging requires a simple button press, but holding down this button executes phases, or automatic dodges. Some enemy attacks can be parried by holding this same button down when prompted, opening a counter attack with another prompt. The three AI controlled party members will often perform a powerful joint attack with a well-executed counter or rear attack, so looking out for these opportunities is important. Controlling Noctis is fun and easy, but left me wanting more as repetition quickly set in.

Your teammates mostly do their own thing, but the party’s attacks also fill a three-segment bar used to execute specific techniques. Each bro has several abilities that can be activated this way, doing large amounts of damage to single targets or groups or conferring a benefit like restoring the party’s health, shielding Noctis from damage, or weakening enemies. Different abilities require set amounts of the technique bar, so carefully choosing which to trigger and when is important. It’s a nice tool, but it too often comes down to doing damage rather than adding anything inspired to combat. One of the only elements that does is spellcasting.

Spells are built from a refillable stock of fire, ice, and lightning elements and can be customized with added effects like restoring Noctis’ health, applying poison, or casting multiple spells at once. This system is fun and powerful, though friendly fire applies, so timing is essential to make the most of a spell without utterly destroying the party. I liked the risk versus reward spells introduced, and customizing their effects is fun. It’s a shame that spells are easy to overlook as crafting a powerful one requires using most or all of an available stock, only a handful of uses are made per crafting, refilling the party’s element supply is a chore, and most fights are easy enough to warp and bash through. Altogether, the combat system works very well, but it disappointed me in its repetitive simplicity. Thankfully, combat isn’t all there is to FFXV.

Like most RPGs, preparations outside of combat are as important as the actions within it. The party defeats enemies and completes quests for experience, which is applied to gain levels when the party rests at camps, mobile homes, motels or hotels. Camps are free, but the other options have a price tag commensurate with a multiplier to experience earned. Leveling up increases stats and awards ability points, or AP, which unlock various bonuses to the party via branching skill trees. These trees allow players to customize the effectiveness of various tools, enable more sources for experience and AP, . AP takes some time to earn, so it makes a big difference what one chooses to unlock and when, especially since more impressive offerings are very expensive. These trees influence the party’s effectiveness dramatically, and I had fun planning out what was most important to me.

With a weak storyline and basic combat, I am thankful that the gameworld is gorgeous, so at the very least the game is fun to behold. Animations are well rendered, the landscape is varied and detailed, lighting is fantastic, and enemies are beautiful and frightening. It was fun discovering locales and the creatures that inhabit them, which is great, since most of the game’s experience revolves around travel. Noctis’ royal steed, the Regalia, is stylish, with many cosmetic customization options in the form of paints and decals. This is nice, because trips can take up to ten minutes to get to a location on preset pathways, so plan on bathroom breaks; otherwise take in the scenery or listen to Final Fantasy soundtracks for a dose of nostalgia. Discovered outposts and parking spots can be fast-travelled to, subverting long road trips for almost as equally tiring load times. I was surprised Square-Enix missed the opportunity for more party banter during long car rides, as that could have fleshed out the characters and their histories.

You’ll be travelling a lot, because there’s plenty to do in FFXV’s world. Side quests of the fetch and kill-that-monster variety litter the landscape, and ranked hunts for stronger, boss-like enemies or groups of enemies are plentiful and rewarding. Dungeons raise the stakes in the form of more challenging enemies, tighter spaces, and disabled manually saving, and were my favorite parts of the game. After beating the campaign, the toughest material is unlocked, finally introducing fights that require some thought, but again this feels late.

The end result is a decent experience that falls short of greatness. Combat is fun and fluid at first, but repetitive and shallow as the game crawls along. Noctis’ internal plight is heartfelt, but most characters are empty shells and archetypes with very little depth, their innermost feelings and conflicts hidden or reduced to a momentary glossing over. FFXV is a shallow wading pool compared to its predecessors’ varied seas, and I, for one, am happy to dry off and leave this one behind.

Brew: It's like a stout with a great, beautiful label, but it's missing that deep, rich texture and taste that makes it a stout. Still drinkable, though.