|
Review
Ten Final Fantasy games.
This is a pretty big event. Gamers have grown used to a new FF coming
out like clockwork on a nearly yearly basis nowadays, and that
regularity, in addition to the fact that every game is a new creation,
perhaps obscures the magnitude of the entire endeavor over its history.
Sit back and think about the amount of effort that's gone into Final
Fantasy over the years, however many it's been, and the amount of game
that's come out of it. When you think about it, in terms of the amount
of product involved, it's one of the biggest franchises in the history
of entertainment.
This is perhaps the time to sit back and appreciate the series,
because Final Fantasy X marks its biggest turning point. Final Fantasy
VII meant the leap to 3D, and an unprecedented step forward in the
games' cinematic presentation, but FFX is essentially the last Final
Fantasy as we have known it. After this, we have the strange new world
of online adventuring, and then Yasumi Matsuno's takeover of the
executive-production reins. Not that these aren't interesting new worlds
to explore, but change on that scale is always a little unsettling.
What is heartening, though, is that the last of Hironobu Sakaguchi's
Final Fantasy games makes a very strong argument for being the best game
the series has ever seen. It is, as the series has always been, a
graphical showcase of the first order. The addition of spoken dialogue,
despite plenty of second-guessing before the event, has succeeded to a
far greater degree than a first effort of this sort has any right to.
Most of all, though, this game is more fun to simply play than any Final
Fantasy in memory. A huge reworking of the character development scheme
has hit the jackpot as far as mixing customization and character
individuality, and one simple tweak to the battle system has pulled
almost every aspect of gameplay through a great leap forward.
Aside from being such a finely made game, it's also a remarkable
stylistic departure in a great many areas. Tetsuya Nomura has put forth
some of his best work in the area of character design for this cast. The
world, like that of most FFs, is a motley collection of different
regions, but there's a greater feeling of cohesion in comparison to VII
or IX, and a revival of some of VIII's prettiest design elements. Most
notably, two more composers aside from Nobuo Uematsu worked on the
soundtrack, and it definitely shows, with some tracks that will leave
you wondering how they wound up in a Final Fantasy game. But there's
nothing wrong with doing something different, as long as it's done well,
and Final Fantasy X is certainly done well, in almost every area.
It is, like all the rest of its fellows, a Heroic Quest. It is,
however, probably the first Quest whose Hero is a time-lost 3D
full-contact water-polo player. Again, it's something different. FFX
manages to create a remarkably engaging cast, though, despite the fact
that Nomura has well and truly topped himself in the outlandish
accessorization department. Fashion in the world of Spira seems to
consist of building up a strong base of weird stuff, followed by
festooning it with as many little bits of weird stuff as you can manage
on top of that -- favorite bits would be the long blue ribbons hanging
from the back of Rikku's shirt, and naturally Lulu's amazing
floor-length skirt.
Amidst the most colorful of the recent FFs is an unusually somber
story, though, brought into sharp relief by the spoken dialogue. Square
hasn't changed the way it tells a story with this, but it can't help but
change the way we interpret the dialogue -- emotional and factual
content is both conveyed and processed differently when we hear it,
rather than simply read it. Reading a book, watching a subtitled movie,
or playing a traditional text-driven RPG generally presents a softer
impact, for good or ill, than hearing the same dialogue spoken and acted
in front of you. Thus, it's a potentially dangerous step, since poor
dialogue spoken hurts much worse than poor dialogue read.
This isn't a perfect piece of acting and direction, especially due to
Square's comparative inexperience with realtime cinematics, but as
mentioned above, the experiment works far better than you'd expect a
first effort to. The English version of Final Fantasy X has the same
top-notch text translation as Square's later PlayStation RPGs, and the
only faults in the voice acting, oddly enough, come from the lead
characters. Even those, too, are largely just fine -- it's just
inevitable that roles with that many more lines and that many more
moments of emotional intensity would have more moments that ring a bit
harshly in the ear. Tidus, in particular, has a tendency to speak a
little too high and a little too fast when he gets excited.
The supporting cast is rock-solid, though. Auron is engagingly grim
behind the high collar and glasses, while Lulu plays his counterpart on
the distaff side, with a cool demeanor and a very fun sense of irony.
Rikku provides the chirpy comic relief without grating too badly (as her
Japanese voice actor did at times), and Wakka, wader-clad goofball
though he may be, is probably the best-cast and best-acted of the lot.
He has an accent that's hard to place -- the best description we can
manage would be half Jamaica, half East LA -- but it's perfectly
consistent, and complements the character to a T.
What brings down the acting at times is the half of it you don't
hear. Though it's been making cinematic games for years, this is
actually just Square's second game to feature the heavy use of
completely in-engine cutscenes (the first being Vagrant Story), and the
animators haven't quite caught up to the standard as far as body
language. The problem is dead obvious after playing Metal Gear Solid 2,
which is as near to perfection as possible when it comes to animating
physical acting in 3D. In comparison, Final Fantasy X's cast still moves
like the last generation of game characters, with a lot of exaggerated
gestures, repetitive movements, stiff transitions, and extremely
questionable lip-synching. The 3D engine is also overtaxed on a few
occasions, so you get some jittery motions that break the mood. The
lip-synching issue is easily forgivable after enough time, but the
contrast between the dialogue and the accompanying body English is often
very jarring, since the former has upped the ante so much higher in
comparison.
That's more the fault of inexperience rather than lack of talent on
the part of the artists, though, and it's a small down note struck by
what is otherwise a beautiful thing to look at. One feels rather silly
trotting out the same exclamations every time a new Final Fantasy raises
the visual bar, but there's no two ways around it -- Square knows how to
make a pretty game. MGS2 showed a greater degree of visual refinement,
but its setting seemed to confine it to shades of gray and brown most of
the time. Not so Final Fantasy, whose artists have carte blanche to
throw every color imaginable at the screen, and a wonderful 3D engine
with which to do it.
Where civilization intrudes, the look is reminiscent of FFIX's riot
of activity married to FFVIII's elegant detail. Designs like the new
airship and the city of Zanarkand especially echo FFVIII, with lots of
interlocking circles and flowing script-like details. Outside the
cities, there's much of Chrono Cross' tropical feel, in the smaller
islands and villages of Spira (perhaps a consequence of the Okinawan
influence said to find its way into the world design). Work forward, and
things go all cold and mountainous a la FFVII, but in every case, color
stands out more than anything else. The game's lines are closer to
FFVIII than anything else, particularly since the characters are back to
ordinary proportion, but the palette couldn't be more different. Just
compare the male leads -- you've got Squall, with his black leather and
permanent mope, standing opposite Tidus, who's got a yellow jacket, a
shimmering blue sword, and an indelible grin.
Mind you, the game isn't garish -- just colorful. Which is a
perfectly sensible decision, now that there's that much more
texture-moving power to go around. Make that just plain power, actually,
since FFX's graphics engine improves on its predecessors in every area
possible. It doesn't completely kick the pre-rendered backgrounds of the
PlayStation games, but then there's no reason to discard them where it
wouldn't be necessary. Where it couldn't hurt to throw in a little more
opulent detail, as in towns and other calm areas, static backgrounds are
used. Dungeons and field exploration areas are almost all drawn in 3D,
though, and in a way that definitely takes advantage of the realtime
environment. Tunnels and mountain paths now criscross around and across
each other, stretching up and out in all dimensions. All that extra
space is filled with atmospheric effects, like mist, flame, or
multicolored will-o'-the-wisps, floating around off in the distance.
When it comes to the friends and fiends that fill the world, it's a
little harder to judge the quality of the modeling, since there isn't
much in the way of competition to hold them up against. Metal Gear
certainly looks better in this area, but that's hardly a fair
comparison. Judging from some of what we've seen of the 2002 RPG crop,
though, FFX may remain the standard -- become the standard, actually.
The character animation fails sometimes when it has to match up with the
new demands of the spoken dialogue, but in the wordless combat
sequences, the fireworks are as impressive as ever.
Is it really worth bothering to mention that the summon animations
are amazing? You've seen them before, you already know how good they'll
look. You know the bestiary is filled with dozens of gorgeous realtime
monsters, from towering bosses down to tiny bouncing Sabotenders. You
know the spell effects are beautiful, you know the character animations
are excellent (wait for the underwater battles -- even ordinary attacks
are impressive). Imagine the PlayStation games, and add exponents,
multiplying speed, resolution, and modeling detail. The form has not
changed substantially, but what fills it is much different.
Fans of the series most certainly won't be disappointed by what they
have to see. What they hear, however, is a potentially different
situation. The invariable furore over the English dialogue is a
different matter entirely -- we await with snickers in readiness for
plenty of high-pitched whinging on that score. What should be a much
more interesting debate is the reaction to FFX's soundtrack, which is
definitely something different in comparison to the past games.
A change was inevitable, since Nobuo Uematsu is now just one of three
composers receiving credit. The others, Junya Nakano and Masashi Hamauzu
(of Threads of Fate and SaGa Frontier, respectively) throw in plenty of
their own chops, and the result is...something new. The orchestral and
choral sounds we're familiar with are still around, and just as in FFIX,
the love theme "Suteki Da Ne" provides the base for a few nice
variations, but there's a surprising amount of more modern influence to
the music. Right at the beginning, you're hit with a one-two punch: a
light pop remix of the Crystal theme, combining a classic melody with a
catchy beat, and then Another World, which is...geez, who ever thought
we'd hear hard distorted rock in a Final Fantasy game? That's not even
the only rockish track in the game, although the style certainly settles
down later on. The world of Spira has a certain religious cast to its
tunes, particularly the chorus-based temple themes, but there's also a
lot more of that slow, catchy pop feel in more peaceful areas.
For the humble narrator's money, change is again a good thing. FFIX
was definitely a sign of stagnation in the composition department, with
an awful lot of melody recycling noticeable as you progressed from area
to area. Bringing new staff in certainly gave things a shot in the arm,
and an intelligently directed one, since the shift in musical styles
provides an undeniably appropriate counterpoint to the new and
recombined visual elements. A few long-time fans may complain, but they
haven't truly been happy since 1993.
And that leads us to the doorstep of the other half of things -- how
does it play? On the surface, the combat system in FFX doesn't look much
different from VII or VIII. The abandonment of Active Time (FFX uses
straight turn-based initiative) won't be noticed by any save the total
gearheads, although it does speed up things a fair bit now that you
don't have to wait for ATB meters to fill. We're back to a
three-character party, the spell system consumes plain old MP as usual,
and the Over Drive system is a near-dead-ringer for the old Limit
Breaks. It's been tweaked with some good ideas -- there are now
alternate schemes for meter development, and little twitch challenges
for better results from OD attacks -- but it's nothing that wouldn't be
immediately accessible to series veterans. One very big thing has
changed, though. By tapping the L1 button, it's possible to swap the
active character out of the party, replacing them with a character from
reserve who can act immediately.
It's a revolutionary change, and one which improves the game
immensely. Purists may claim that it makes battles "too easy"
or some blithering waterhead nonsense like that. Such an attitude is
dangerously wrong, and would require surgical repair without delay. In
fact, this is the best thing that's happened to Final Fantasy in ages,
gameplay-wise, a huge improvement to the ease of combat and character
development.
Remember how annoying it's been to build up the abilities of your
entire cast in earlier Final Fantasies? There are six or seven
characters in the cast, all with plenty of strengths and personality,
but invariably you rely on only three or four because that's all you can
fit into the active party. The rest get short shrift, fall behind in
levels, and leave you with nasty holes in your strategy if they happen
to become vital late in the game. Now, that problem is completely gone.
The active party is back down to the three-character maximum, but if you
want to build someone waiting in the wings, just tap L1. That's all you
need to do. If a character performs at least one action, they get a full
share in the AP gained at the end of the battle, and then you can keep
them in for more or rotate them out to make room for someone else.
Inventory development is far easier, too. Rikku is the thief
character this time out, a specialized type with the Steal and Use
abilities. Normally, it would be a bother to keep her in the mix and
gather the items she needs to become an effective force in combat, but
now you can send her in, nick some items, and rotate her out easily to
bring back a bread-and-butter fighter. After a little while of this,
she'll have a huge inventory of special items that will come in handy
throughout the rest of the game (not to mention handy stuff for healing
and building up weapons), and she'll have grown strong enough to hang
with the other characters in a straight fight. A similar principle
applies to other characters who might have specialized abilities. Lulu's
your mage -- if you need an elemental spell, bring her in. Wakka has
some handy status-effect attacks -- if someone's vulnerable to Darkness
or Silence, bring him in. Need healing? Save your items and call up Yuna.
You can compensate for weaknesses easily, too. If an enemy is strong
against a character's attack type or elemental orientation, just send
them out and make room for someone who can better take on that
particular opponent. Fights are now much faster, and managing your
strategy is a piece of cake in comparison to the laborious, haphazard
party maneuverings of the earlier games. In short, huge swathes of the
game are much easier and much more fun. Combat, character-building,
gathering items, developing weapons, they're all improved greatly by the
addition of this single, simple feature. Amazing that Square didn't
think of it earlier.
Amidst all this high-speed combat and character maneuvering, the new
summoning system is a bit of an anomaly. The Aeons (as they're now
called) summoned by Yuna aren't the one-shot attacks we've come to know.
Rather, they're characters like any other, with their own HP, MP,
skills, spells, and Over Drive attacks. When called, they fight in place
of the regular party until killed or dismissed, albeit with a few
different conditions than ordinary fighters.
On the one hand, this makes the development and deployment of summons
a more involving affair. There's more ways you can use them, especially
as you master the means of developing their abilities -- they can learn
new spells and gain stronger attributes by cannibalizing items, the same
way you add new abilities to equipment. On the other hand, summoning an
Aeon is a distinct break in the flow of a combat system that ordinarily
moves very quickly. The animations aren't that much of a bother, since
you again have an option to toggle short versions of the Aeons' dramatic
entrances, but having to make that big an adjustment in your strategy
certainly is. Even in boss battles, Aeons aren't usually a very
practical alternative or complement to regular combat.
That is, perhaps, a testament to how powerful and useful your regular
party can become, now that you can actually use all of it. The
characters and the methods for building them are designed very well, to
the point that they're all of them useful at some point or another --
only Wakka comes close to being a bit of a runt, thanks to his weak
physical attacks and rather specialized secondary skills. As they move
along the Sphere Grid, each retains their own particular personality, as
it were, but gradually develops a breadth of skills to make them useful
in more and more situations.
The Sphere Grid is an imposing sight, and an equally imposing task to
try and describe in an accessible fashion. Perhaps it's easiest to state
right from the beginning that this isn't a completely new system -- when
you sit back and think about it, it's actually a close cousin to the
development system in the Romancing SaGa games, albeit heavily revised.
Final Fantasy X takes SaGa's preference for developing character a
statistic and a skill at a time, and improves upon it by taking out the
random element, instead giving the player more opportunities to guide
development. The path characters follow is still more straight and
narrow than it might seem, especially during the earlier stretches of
the game, but once you get going, there's plenty of opportunities to
tweak a character to your liking.
While the Sphere Grid may look like it's composed of a few large
groups of spheres, appearances are deceiving. In fact, those spheres are
composed of dozens of tiny nodes, each connected together by snaky,
linear paths. Each node, save for the occasional empty one placed to
space out progress, represents an improvement in a character's abilities
or attributes -- a new spell, a new skill, 200 more HP, four more
Strength points, and so on. As they earn AP and Sphere Levels in battle,
characters must progress across the Grid a node at a time, slowly
working towards new and different abilities and gradually building their
attributes.
Each character starts at a different point on the Grid, and its
structure tends to direct them along a path suited to their areas of
expertise. Thus, everyone has a little bit of individuality -- it's not
like FFVII, where any character could master any skill. Tidus, Auron,
and Kimahri follow paths comprised mainly of combat skills, while Yuna
and Lulu are sent towards concentrations of magical skills, and Rikku
follows a quirky route suited to her oddball personality. There are
forks in the trail, though, some blocked at first, and once you find
some rare items it's possible to backtrack or hop from one path of
development to another.
Perhaps the only problem with the way the game progresses has to do
with the pacing of certain gameplay challenges. The basic form of FFX's
quest is as per the other 3D Final Fantasies, with stretches that follow
a straight and narrow path alternating between opportunities to break
out and explore, and for the most part it works as well as it has
before. Every so often, though, there are departures into heavy
brain-teasing that stick out like a sore thumb. Each Temple (you'll
understand if you play) is built around a lengthy puzzle involving
switching spheres and moving blocks and doing all that other arbitrary
puzzle stuff. They're designed well enough -- gaps in the logic are
annoying, but easily overcome -- but they're not integrated into the
rest of the game very well. After hours of fighting, cinemas, and
wandering, the puzzles suddenly pop up like a brick wall. A better
design would integrate them more evenly into the rest of the quest.
Issues like that stand out, though, because they're surrounded by so
many significant new improvements. For something that's meant to finish
up a long tradition, Final Fantasy X is an awfully radical departure --
it's as if we came to the major turning point two games early. But a
high note is a high note, and the old guard of Final Fantasies is most
certainly departing on a high note. What we have is the best-looking
game of the series, arguably the best-playing as well, and some
experiments in presentation that provide a strong foundation for more
work along those lines in the future. Square may be going through some
rough times financially at this point, but its creative stock has never
been higher.
Ten is a big number. Whether you reckon it in Arabic or Roman
numerals, it's both a milestone met and a new stage begun. Very
appropriate, don't you think?
-- David Smith
Thanks to IGN for the review
|
First-rate text localization and a surprisingly strong English dub, plus the typically top-class Final Fantasy production values everywhere else.