Played the remaster released on Steam.

With little effort, you can convince most people that the bizarre N64 platformer Glover does not age well as it stands. Level designs, for the most part, do not utilize the glove-and-ball mechanic beneficially resulting in numerous points of inflected frustration rather than curious cleverness. Boss battles present themselves in jittery chaos and require a certain amount of time for the player to devolve into an angry mass before understanding the simple strategy.

Nevertheless, underneath the oxidized design elements, there really is a ambitiously witty game here. Beyond the jank maelstrom of boss battle presentation is an acknowledgement from the development team that they were trying to diversify the fights. They succeeded, actually, to an extent, even if they are irritable. Glover is part of a fascinating group of games made for the N64 that embraced weird design, trying to breakdown the platforming norms set by giants like Super Mario 64 - although most platformers of the time end up mimicking the Nintendo game eventually, Glover included.

But it is worth noting that the actual remaster amplifies the jankiness. The sound design is splotchy with inconsistencies and mixing errors and textures seem to come and go as they please. One section in a level of the Circus World refused to provide a floor. You can fall to your death there. Screenshots of the N64 version show the floor intact and filled. While this game certainly could use a substantial remaster, this version of the game begs the eternal question framing all game remasters. Do you sustain the historical authenticity of the game so that people can experience the game as one would when it was originally released or do you conform it to contemporary game design sensibilities? My ideal would be providing both options, as that would also merit the price tag for a game like this. But I feel that is still a pipe dream.

Still, I did actually enjoy this game as much as I was angry at it. I'm not exactly sure what that means for the game, conclusively.

Complete destruction, utter annihilation and satirical violence

In the middle 2000s must have been when every developer wanted to make something dark and edgy in the broadest way I can describe it that I wouldn't even say that they're really edgy but more of a tonal shift than the developer intended. Naughty Dog with Jak X, most of Square's game during that time, Shadow the Hedgehog and Insomniac with Ratchet Deadlocked. In wanting to test something, I ended up replaying Ratchet Deadlocked again and beating it in one sitting. Ratchet Deadlocked brings some of the best third person gunplay the PlayStation 2 has to offer with the wit and humor the series has been known for at this point. Inspired by Halo and sadly looked down by the developers themselves, Deadlocked is extremely different from the original PlayStation 2 trilogy. Clank is gone from the title, a much darker, only a bit edgier honestly, and removed most of the unique platforming challenges in lieu of arena, obstacle courses and makes the journey a true fight for survival compared to the exploratory flow of the last games. Why I keep coming back to it is the infectious and high paced gunplay that I haven't managed to find anywhere else along with the weapon customization and how each weapon really feels powerful to use.

The premise of the story is fairly simple, Ratchet and his crew get kidnapped and forced to compete in DreadZone, an extremely violent and deadly game show where heroes are pitted against each other to death by Gleeman Vox, owner of Vox Industries and Vox News, Vox Sports and so forth. Even with the constant character assassination from Vox News (yeah you can guess where they got the name Vox from), Ratchet ends up being popular despite the marketing campaign against him. I would say the premise is darker but the humor that the series is known for is still here and honestly hits harder for me.

The visual and audio aspect of Deadlocked is something I've come to really appreciate too with how moody and atmospheric some of these worlds and tracks are. From the brooding metropolis of Kronos with its dark cathedral to the sleek, tall and apocalyptic view of Stygia, these planets aren't tourist destinations and always have danger looming in every corner. The soundtrack is even better especially hearing this after entering the smog and trash ridden planet of Orxon again. Even then the final levels are some of my favorite in these regards but as much I want to gush about them, I rather people experience it themselves.

The sound of metal scraping from the barrel as you launch a bomb onto something while trying to dodge beam attacks that can two shot on the four star difficulty (Hero) difficulty is pretty tough. It's extremely hard to find anything adrenaline fueled and visceral as Ratchet Deadlocked's gunplay especially for the console it was on. Only ten weapons in this iteration but they're the most customizable and useful they have ever been with no useless weapons barring maybe the shield launcher unless you're playing on higher difficulties where you will truly need it. Each gun feels good to use and you can tell they put a lot of work into this aspect of the game. They default you to lock strafe controls from the bat compared to third person from before and it plays so much better. From machine pistols, rail guns, rocket launchers to a explosive flail that shakes the fuck out of your camera when you use it, every weapon legit feels feels powerful. Customization comes from adding mods that can increase the fire rate, ammo count, impact of the shot to increasing the area of effect of the shot with one tier of modding to customizing the element to the other tier. Make your dual pistols fire faster and provide arcing shock lightning around enemies to quickly kill smaller enemies in numbers or do what I did and make every single explosive weapon you own explode into mini bombs that just lag the hell out of your game like THE BOUNCER from the second game. The weapon leveling and health progression is back and even more ridiculous than ever as weapons go up to level 99 in this one. I feel like it's a real quality vs quantity approach here for the weapon design. Something to mention is how you also have to dodge like a manic on a substance on higher difficulties where everything two shots you no matter how much health you have in the higher difficulties. Ratchet doesn't have Clank here so he's just limited to double jumping for aerial movement but it feels more in control and allows better timing for jumps.

Can't be a Halo inspired game without vehicular combat and Deadlocked has that too in addition to the gunplay. Four playable vehicles are used from the fast and light hoverbike, the warthog inspired Puma, the quadrupedal tank Landstalker and the aerial Hovership itself for aerial combat. I think the vehicles are generally fun to use overall and can cause just as much carnage as you can especially later on. I also forgot to mention you're actually part of a team, you're accompanied by two bots that essentially do all of the menial stuff for you which I think is a smart inclusion as it gives you more chance to actually play the game. Eventually you'll have to do side missions to continue on the campaign which I feel pads the game a bit but fortunately those missions are short and actually pretty fun so it's not the worst thing. An average playthrough is five to seven hours so the game never really overstays its welcome and offers a ton of replayability with challenge mode.

Hard to believe I beat this game five times and never got bored especially with the weapon variety to keep in mind. Deadlocked is just a short, funny and visceral romp from start to finish. It's not a perfect game by any means but it's one of the few games that gets the brain cells flowing as explosions fly and the PlayStation 2 lags out because I spammed mini bomb mines against ten zombies again. If you played the original PS2 trilogy and haven't played this yet, you already know what I'm gonna say.

During a month-long marathon of streaming bad games to my friends, Battlefield Hardline wormed its way out from a dark, dark, neglected corner of my memory. We'd all collectively forgotten about it, and when I mentioned that it was next up on the docket, everyone was giddy. We knew we were going to be in for a middling, designed-by-committee piece of copaganda garbage; a game about rough cops doing whatever it takes to get their man, tastefully developed and advertised at the same time as the murder of Eric Garner and the subsequent go-nowhere trial of the man who murdered him under the guise of justice. It was a terrible idea from the outset, and it was going to be hilarious. And it was.

Two-thirds of the way through the game, something changes.

The game goes off the rails. Retelling the plot doesn't do the sudden, massive swerve any justice; after going through milquetoast cop procedural cases where people are being extra-judicially executed by our brave heroes on the force, your character is framed, arrested, and shipped to prison for several years. One timeskip later, while being transported to another prison, a drug dealer you busted earlier pulls up to the side of the bus you're in and blows it up with a backpack full of C4. You immediately go rogue, gun your way through a Korean mafia car shop, get kidnapped by trailer park preppers and kill them in a tank showdown, and then storm a Scarface-tier mansion seated in the Miami swamps to kill your corrupt ex-captain. There's a part where you swing on a rope through a penthouse window, faced with several armed goons on police payroll, and order them to freeze before being dragged back out by the ankles to the streets below. You fight an alligator in a quick time event. After you put a bullet in the police captain's head, the player character opens his personal vault and is rewarded with a mountain of gold bars. I want a development documentary on this game more than any other, because I have no idea how or why it was decided to try to make all of these pieces fit together like this. It...works? Kind of? The first two-thirds is complete garbage, but the prison bus exploding is a marked shift towards the game actually being fun, and interesting, and reminding you that this game was made by Visceral, not DICE.

I have a pet theory that everyone at Visceral who worked on this hated it. I don't have any concrete proof to back it up, but there are more than a few circumstances that line up a bit too neatly to discredit it entirely. This was the last thing that Visceral was given to work on before they were shuttered by EA for "under-performing" in sales, infamously being instructed under threat of studio dissolution to sell more copies of Dead Space 3 on launch than the previous two games combined. Studio morale had to have been low in 2015 with EA dangling a sword over their heads. When a character in Battlefield Hardline throws a house party, some henchmen with Xbox controllers in the living room are playing Dead Space 2. The second Dead Space game was four years old at this point, and the third entry had just released. If this was meant to be promotional, why not the newest game? If it was mandated that an ad for a real game needed to be included by the publisher, why not something like FIFA 2016? Dead Space 2, as my theory goes, is the last game that Visceral as a whole was actually proud to have worked on. Stick with me, I've got more.

Pressing continue from the title screen leads into a recap of earlier story events, introduced with the line "Previously, on Hardline". Note the lack of "Battlefield". The game never once calls itself "Battlefield". It seems ashamed of the franchise. The dirty cop strongman garbage with the casually racist supporting cast (three racial jokes at the Cuban-American protagonist's expense in the first minute of gameplay!) gets completely dropped by the third act in favor of the ridiculous 80's B-movie action schlock that happens in the final third of story. The longer the game goes on, the further into development it goes, the closer to Visceral's dissolution it gets — it feels less and less like EA was breathing down their necks. It feels like the publisher gave up, knowing that the studio wouldn't exist a few months after release, and then decided they didn't care enough to monitor everyone who was about to be out of work. And Visceral went all-out with it! It's complete chaos! Why is any of this happening? Who gives a shit? It's so far beyond the garbage that came hours before that it feels like your head is breaching up from beneath dark, cold water and into open air. It's your final reminder of what Visceral was capable of pulling off, right before they got cannibalized by their publisher. It's the last thing they were allowed to make, and it sucks that their legacy gets tarnished by blatant studio meddling on their final two games before they were killed.

Battlefield Hardline is not a good game, but it becomes enough of an oddity to earn a recommendation. It's hardly deserving of scorn. It feels more pitiable than anything else. It's an impotent, flailing narrative with stock FPS gameplay that finds its footing just in time for it to end two hours later. I would have loved to play an independent Visceral's Hardline, before it could be shoved through the filter of DICE's Battlefield and EA's interference; ultimately, the game's narrative that we're left with can only mirror the studio's history and abrupt end. Visceral deserved a swan song. We all got Battlefield Hardline.

The Super Mario 64 of 3D JRPGs, the Ultimate Role Playing Game, and the actual greatest sendoff to the 'original' Final Fantasy.

The Super Mario 64 of 3D JRPGs
Final Fantasy XII was a sharp left turn compared to the path the Final Fantasy series had been descending towards since VII. The series had always alternated between gameplay (odd) and narrative heavy (even) games, but with VII this trend was thrown out the window. Following the game's runaway success, VIII would double down with more blockbuster set pieces, pacing, and forgiving mechanics. IX and X would follow a similar non-expressive system of party mechanics, with X being so streamlined that it even did away with mechanics from the original Final Fantasy on NES.

By contrast, XII decides to push every dial to 11. There's 17 unique weapon types--with numerous different methods of damage calculation. There's a shit ton of unique accessories that have distinct gameplay effects, there's double the spells that there were in X , and even a new ability set called Technicks that allow you to do a bunch of new crazy things (attacking based on system clock time, telekinetic abilities, throwing out random spells for free, etc). Each character can be completely customized as you like--allowing you to create hundreds upon hundreds of unique strategies. These systems were only bolstered by re-releases of the game adding the job system back into the mix, further allowing unique player expression and improving upon the license board system.

Beyond what your character does, XII made massive changes to everything around you. The worlds are now fully 3D and explorable--with random battles being replaced with organically appearing enemies. That 3D space is now also crucial to battles: aggro, AOE, spell range, and other mechanics need to be understood with respect to the spaces you fight in. Enemies are also smarter and more varied than ever--often being capable of wiping you in one careful move. Many bosses also have complex AI scripts that allow them to react to every aspect of battle--leading to boss AI often more complex than even the superbosses found in previous games.

In order to actually make yourself useful in these complex situations, the developers created the Gambits system--which let you 'program' your party members with AI commands that they automatically perform based on the context of battle. Many players originally complained this system allows the game to 'play itself,' but this is only true at a very shallow level. Players who challenge the game at maximum speed will often find themselves overwhelmed without relying on gambits. Moreover, Gambits allow players to focus on decisions that actually matter in complex battles--instead of just spamming X to perform basic attacks against low-level grunts. This allows for players to perform more complex strategies and enables developers to craft more intricate battles. The totality of Gambits allows for the most complex, challenging, and rewarding battles I've ever fought in an RPG while streamlining all of the trivial actions that turn RPGs into tedious chores.

But most importantly, the world of XII is arguably the greatest the franchise (and perhaps the genre) has ever seen. Ivalice is as large, diverse, and interconnected as it's ever been. The side quests are numerous and varied--often offering the greatest challenges and rewards in the game. The hunt quests are a fantastic vehicle for some of the best fights in any RPG I've ever played. There are also countless rewards and experiences the player can find just by exploring. Virtually every area you visit is chock filled with extra content you can discover/battle/loot if you revisit later in the game. The amount of times I've accidentally stumbled into a secret dungeon-within-a-dungeon, an insanely good boss fight, or a killer piece of treasure is probably higher in XII than the rest of the franchise combined.

Speaking of dungeons, that's another point worth going over. VII started killing off the proper RPG dungeon--often opting to replace them with shorter and less challenging set pieces. This worked well enough in VII, as the game was primarily an enjoyable rollercoaster ride. However, I find that the turn against proper dungeons ultimately hurt the series--further streamlining gameplay to the point of tedium. From VII to X I never felt any real sense of challenge from the game, mainly because the games were far more interested in preserving a sense of streamlined narrative cohesion than focused gameplay experience.

XII instead opted to make the dungeon the star of the show. By pure size, there's more dungeon than the last four games combined. Many of them aren't static either--growing as the player revisits during story/quest progression. Several full dungeons are entirely optional--sometimes having additional secret areas within the optional dungeon! They often have Zelda-esque puzzles and deadly traps that can even wipe your party if you're not being careful. This return to dungeon-oriented design allows the player to engage with gameplay mechanics more often and in far more depth than VII through X allowed for. I should say I think it's possible to have a good RPG without dungeons, but you need your set pieces and narrative to really sell the game. That's arguably a more fickle task and a large reason why I think VIII and X ultimately fail.

Through all this, the developers of XII struck a delicate balance that has very rarely been seen in gaming. To condense the points above:

1) The player mechanics are rich, complex, and expressive
2) The enemies are smart and often brutal
3) The quests/content are plentiful and rewarding
4) The world is massive and fleshed out

It sounds simple. Hell, it's what virtually all open-world RPG games strive for. But in my opinion very few--and I mean very few games have ever pulled this combination off. And I would say none have been as successful as XII has. It's a system that feeds into itself--meaning that if any aspect of the chain is bad, it sours the whole experience. Consider the cycle like this:

1) If the player mechanics aren't complex and expressive then...
2) You can't have enemies that are actually smart and brutal. Which means that...
3) The quests and content in your game feel more like chores, which means...
4) Your world feels empty and shallow--chock full of lifeless filler content meaning...
5) You won't give out quests featuring...
6) Complex enemies that...
7) Reward players with new expressive items that...
8) Empower the player for...
9) Later complex enemies found in...
10) Good quests in the...
X-2) Fleshed out world

If anything goes wrong here, the whole thing goes wrong. But somehow, XII manages to pull it off. I think the main reason it succeeds so well is through its commitment to its own mechanics. Some side quests are like other Final Fantasy games--little story beats that make you do some 'chores' in order to get a simple reward. That's fine for a simple lark, but the real meat of XII comes from the hunts and espers you can discover throughout the world--these aren't excuses for chores, they're excuses to have massive boss fights that challenge you in ways the main narrative can't. They're not an extension of the game--they are the game.

It once again sounds obvious, but think about it. How often do side quests devolve into you walking around and doing some MMO-esque nonsense that doesn't really fit in with the parts of the game that you feel shine? How many times do you feel like those side quests were side quests for a reason? Certainly there are exceptions, but I'm sure you feel that way about plenty of games. XII joins the club of the few games that are designed to empower side content, instead of having side content that hinders the main content.

And if one thing is clear about XII, is how damn influential it was on every major 3D JRPG going forward. Many JRPGs opted to keep the traditional 2D structure when they transitioned to 3D, but through Final Fantasy XII I see a bold and complete vision of what a true 3D JRPG should be--and I think it's the first game to properly nail that vision. For that, I view XII in the same light as a title like Super Mario 64 or Super Metroid. There were certainly games before it that attempted to define a genre, but this game is without a doubt the complete and total blueprint for the genre going forward--even influencing many games beyond its own genre.


The Ultimate Roleplaying Game
On the surface level, XII features all of the trappings Matsuno fans have come to love from previous titles like Tactics: a large cast of characters, widespread (geo)politicking, convoluted interpersonal relationships, grim wars, cruel gods, and even crueler men. And from the get go, XII throws you headfirst into a international conflict featuring lots of faces, titles, and countries--familiar territory for dedicated fans. But it doesn't take long for the game to hit the brakes on the usual trappings and focus more on character stories; suddenly we're spending hours with Vaan exploring Rabanastre as he goes about his street-rat exploits instead of fighting wars. It may seem to blend together smoothly, but something became clear after finishing XII: the game doesn't really have one clean style, it has two different narrative modes.

Mode A is Matsuno as you remember it: A convoluted political narrative filled with exaggerated portrayals of hatred, war, and betrayal contrasted against a protagonist's loss of innocence in a cruel world beyond their control. It's basically Kurosawa's Ran mixed with the darker fantasy elements of Berserk.
Mode B is Star Wars. An upbeat tale featuring charming cast of characters who have to overcome their their differences in order to take down the uncategorically evil empire that rules over them.

To sum it up (without spoilers), XII eventually leans closer to Star Wars than Matsuno's usual can o' worms. There are certainly hints of his trademark dark brew, but they ultimately get drowned out in a cup of sweet Star Wars flavored blue milk™ meant to give you an uplifting feeling when you leave the theater.

Is that a bad thing? In a word: kinda. It doesn't ruin the narrative--I still think it's still a great story overall. However, it certainly simplifies it. There are moments where we see characters struggling with genuinely challenging moral quandaries, personal revelations, and past traumas...but these moments generally get resolved cleanly in order to lay the groundwork for more Star Wars moments.
But I think it's important to remember that Star Wars isn't bad. The characters are charming and memorable, the world is engaging, and the set pieces are usually entertaining. I feel the same way about XII. At the same time though...Star Wars is still just Star Wars. It doesn't stick with me like more emotionally demanding and narratively ambitious films often do. It's likeable and entertaining...But it's not something that would ever be my favorite--the kind of art that sticks with me. The kind of art that requires contemplation and reflection. The kind of art that touches me on a deeper level--in the same way that VI or Tactics do.

But you know what? That's fine. There's still a lot of great moments, memorable characters, and incredible locations that mark XII as one of the better stories in Final Fantasy, and in AAA gaming as a whole--a great blockbuster film with some darker thematic undercurrents. But what about XII's characters?

Well...despite all the hate given to him, Vaan was never meant to be perceived as the main protagonist of the narrative. His arc is simple: he's a dumb and emotional teen that's just trying to figure their shit out. Contrasted with the rest of the cast, Vaan works as an understandable anchor grounding us while the narrative grows in scope. Instead of quickly becoming a generic JRPG teenage badass who saves the world, he spends most of the game growing into a regular young adult--slowly becoming the 'hero' he saw in people like Balthier and Basch.

If anything, the game is better viewed as three separate narratives that combine to form our total ensemble. Each narrative features a main protagonist and a supporting character that looks like so:

1) Ashe & Basch: Ashe must quest to save the world, battle the gods, and reclaim her place as the rightful ruler of Dalmasca. Basch needs to find himself by supporting Ashe and avenging based on his own past as a protector of Dalmasca.
2) Balthier & Fran: Balthier must settle things with his father, which has consequences for the whole world, while also coming to terms with who he is. Fran works to support him.
3) Vaan & Penelo: Vaan works to better understand himself as he tries to grow into the man he saw in his older brother. Penelo works to support him.

This is a very simplified view of the narrative, but the broad strokes are correct. Ashe's story ultimately involves the fate of the world, Balthier's stakes are lesser but still important, while Vaan is simply trying to grow as a person. The intertwining of these narratives is also key. Balthier sees the mistakes of his father in Ashe, which leads to interesting moments between them. Basch's noble character traits often run counter to Balthier's own cynical personality. All the adults serve as role models for Vaan and Penelo, while the two kids also manage to find ways to 'cut through' the complex matters at hand and and serve as an anchor for the adults as their problems grow.

You might be seeing an issue though. Why are Fran and Penelo just written off as "works to support him?" Well...it's because that's essentially their purpose. Fran has a slight character moment with her return to her home village, but ultimately functions like Chewbacca in Star Wars--a reliable wingman for our charming pirate. Meanwhile Penelo has very little going on in her own story. She...wants to be a dancer...I guess? These characters ultimately work as plot devices to get us from A to B and occasionally give us a vehicle to bounce more important character moments off of. Should they have been more fleshed out? Absolutely. It's one of the failings of XII's narrative that they weren't. However, they are not poorly written characters by any stretch of the imagination, they mainly exist in character purgatory. But even if XII's narrative is more 'good' than perfect, it is undeniably interesting for a different reason.

The alternation between story and mechanics-focused FF games died with VII, which set the series down the path towards story/character heavy, mechanically light games. This phenomenon (combined with the aesthetics and narrative driven by the Nomura/Nojima creative partnership), would lead us to the modern JRPG we all picture today. It's the kind of RPG that leads many players to ask "how is this even an RPG?" And in some ways, they've got a point. After all, Cloud/Squall/Tidus aren't characters I can really customize. I can't create my own role in these games, I have to follow a clearly defined character! For the Japanese audience however, the meaning of roleplay had been shifting since Final Fantasy II. It was moving away from that old-fashioned D&D ideal and towards a new direction: allowing the player to "roleplay" as that well-defined character.

When you play Skyrim, you get the chance to craft a unique character that is defined primarily by your actions and build. The actual dragonborn you play as is, without you, a totally blank canvas. By contrast, when you play Final Fantasy VII, you get the chance to step into the shoes of "Cloud Strife," you get to experience the world through Cloud--including all his hopes/dreams/baggage. You don't get to choose much, but you can experience a lot by immersing yourself into his role. In that sense, the JRPG and the WRPG operated off of the same vague concept--immersion--but sought to achieve it in very different ways. WRPGs emphasized complex character expression and D&D-esque mechanics, while JRPGs streamlined those systems in order to provide an immediate and gripping narrative.

There are certainly advantages to both ends of the spectrum, but I would argue that no game has found a perfect middle ground like XII has. It features all of the complex and expressive systems/mechanics that would make a D&D fan giddy while also giving the player a set of heavily defined characters and a static story to immerse themselves into. It is, in a hyperbolic sense, the "ultimate" role playing game: marrying both ends of the spectrum into one clean and polished package. Of course, not everyone wants their peanut butter and jelly combined, but players who enjoy both game styles can find a lot to love in XII. It's the most 'balanced' combination of the two genres within Final Fantasy and one of the greatest in all of gaming.


THE Final Fantasy?
Final Fantasy XII stands as an oddity within the franchise. Not quite old or new, not quite popular or hated, and not quite bland or stylized, etc. etc. For many, it's probably a game they've never played or knew much about--myself included. Owing to it's late-bloomer PS2 release (Gears of War and the Wii would release weeks later) as well as its lack of then-codified anime (read: Nojima, Nomura, and Kitase) aesthetics.

Instead, we were left with a game handled primarily by three creatives:
1) Hiroyuki Ito--the man behind (nearly) all of FF's battle systems and (co-)director of VI and IX.
2) Yasumi Matsuno--the mind behind the world of Ivalice and the games within it (Final Fantasy Tactics, Vagrant Story, etc).
3) Akitoshi Kawazu--the man behind the (often experimental and brutal) SaGa franchise

Matsuno would leave the project before completion (while Kawazu would join in), but these three minds would end up driving the most ambitious Final Fantasy game in history. To quote one developer: "It is a game where we overdid everything." And overdid they did...Final Fantasy XII was awarded the distinction of "longest game development period" by Guinness for its five year production cycle--a factoidal relic that seems charming by modern development standards. But the team were shooting for the impossible even at the start of development. They wanted to:

1) Kill the random encounter and transition to real 3D spaces where spacial awareness factored into combat
2) Have up to four party members that could all be micro-managed in real time (even allowing for multiplayer support!)
3) Create a massive, dense, and interconnected world filled to the brim with optional content
4) Eolve the (then still controversial) job system and allow for trillions of ways to customize characters/party compositions
5) Design a system of "AI" commands that allowed players to 'program' party members to act automatically when they weren't controlling them directly.

And many, many other features. Some of these were just too ambitious (multiplayer), while others were shot down by corporate (job system) for being 'too complex' for their target demographic. If the PlayStation-era FF games had streamlined and anime-ified the RPG for a blockbuster market--creating the modern JRPG--then XII was looking to take a bold sharp left turn...and it wouldn't take long for problems to arise.

XII started development around 2000, with the leading staff being hand picked by FF creator Hironobu Sakaguchi himself. While other teams were off creating IX, X, XI, and a (godforsaken) movie, the remaining staff (primarily from Tactics) were the odd ones out. Ito and Kawazu were dedicated fans of the 'classics' of the RPG genre--Wizardry, Ultima, as well as the granddaddy Dungeons and Dragons--which were falling stars of the RPG genre by the late 90s. And while Final Fantasy VII, VIII, and IX streamlined much of the genre's gameplay conventions, Matsuno worked with Ito to expand V's complex Job system for Tactics. Kawazu would also be in his own lab during the PS1/PS2 era--cooking up mechanics in his SaGa series that still polarize many to this day.

By the time of Final Fantasy X's release, the series had become so monumental and streamlined that it appealed to an incredibly wide audience of players. X reverted back to a turn based system, removed most inventory customization (that had already been receding since the SNES era), and mitigated the magic system to just a few basic elements and spells. Gameplay was certainly still there...But many players were hooked by the world, characters, and stories that X offered--with gameplay being icing on top of the cake.

Moreover, the massive success of X and VII led to the creation of the unthinkable: Final Fantasy X-2 and The Compilation of Final Fantasy VII. For the first time ever, these stand-alone fantasies were no longer final. That's right, the newly merged Square Enix was making corporate decisions that would now be an EA/Activision punchline: Games needed to come out quicker, be simple and accessible, and cash-in on known brand names or trends. Gone were the days of mainline FF games with the occasional oddity like Tactics and tons of unique experimental IP (Parasite Eve, Xenogears, Vagrant Story, etc). Now we could expect a FFVII mobile game, an edgy FFVII third person shooter, a SICK FFVII anime movie, a wacky Charlie's Angels FFX spin-off, and a fucking Disney/Final Fantasy crossover universe.

Final Fantasy XII was caught in the crossfire of this corporate revolution. By 2004 the man who had created FF and handpicked the leaders for this project had quit Square Enix--taking a decent chunk of staff with him--while corporate motives had shifted so radically that it made the aims of XII seem all but obsolete by 2006 when it finally limped onto store shelves. Infighting between the XII team and other sections of Square eventually lead to the worst: the writer/director of the project, Yasumi Matsuno quit Square in 2005--owning to 'health concerns.' He would never work directly at the company again. Kawazu joined the project and helped XII release the following year--now as a relic of a bygone era in Square (and RPG) history.

XII's mechanics were dense, novel, and expressive. The world was unique--defined by Arabian, Turkish, and Indian influences. The cast was also distinct--featuring an ensemble that eschewed many conventions presented in VII/VIII/IX/X. The game even featured (arguably) the only female lead beyond VI. Everything about it was a sharp left turn from the previous few FF games...and it was a (relative) disaster for Square. Turns out, this philosophy is a terrible idea for corporate success. Games need to be predictable in order to be reliably successful. And so, we got X-2, we got a slew of VII sequels/spinoffs/films/remakes, we got three Final Fantasy XIII games (and a spin-off later rebranded as XV), hell...we even got a direct sequel to Final Fantasy XII!

And while I would love to sit here and purely blame corporate decisions, I know there's more to it. Fans were also upset with XII upon release. Those fans were, for the first time ever, questioning whether or not XII was "really" a Final Fantasy game. This line of thinking, more than anything else, is what finally buried Final Fantasy six feet under.

Game critic Tim Rogers once shared an anecdote from XII's release in Japan that perfectly symbolizes this phenomenon. When the first fan who purchased XII got to speak to the head of Square Enix at a publicity event, he only had one thing to say:

"Please remake Final Fantasy VII."

Through the runaway success of Final Fantasy VII, Sakaguchi and co. had inadvertently cultivated a fanbase that wasn't interested in what they wanted out of Final Fantasy as its creators. Fans were interested in a few key ideas presented by Nojima and Nomura (visually and narratively) and some basic gameplay concepts. They wanted those ideas to play on repeat until the end of time...and so they did. By 2006, there was no place for the design philosophies that dictated the original Final Fantasy games. It was a brave new world: one that we're still living in.

When the dust settled, XII would barely outsell X-2. XIII would later cement the Nomura-fication of the (single-player) Final Fantasy series. Moreover, the creators of XII started to fade into the background of the new Square Enix monolith. Ito would be booted out of the director's seat for nearly 15 years. Matsuno wouldn't work at Square Enix again--besides some occasional contractor work. Kawazu bounced around project to project as "executive producer" until the release of SaGa: Scarlet Grace over a decade after XII's release--the only game he's designed since. Many other staff who embodied that sense of Final Fantasy would also leave to join Sakaguchi at Mistwalker or pursue other ventures. In many ways, Final Fantasy XII was the true last hurrah to the original series--one that would go out with a whimper, and not a bang.

People point to IX as this sort of 'swan song' for the "original" Final Fantasy--and in some surface-level respects, this is true. The game eschewed the anime-styling of its surrounding titles in favor of a simple childlike fantasy charm. This didn't just set it apart from VII/VIII/X however, it also set it apart from most of the Final Fantasy games we also perceive as 'classic.' Those classic games have very little in common with each other, beyond some vague themes and surface-level symbolism. Outside of simple referential images and direct name-dropping, there's not much that IX does to actually tie together a cohesive sense of Final Fantasy--because there arguably wasn't one to begin with.

At least...that's what I thought until I played XII. I realized now what Final Fantasy was really all about. It wasn't about those surface level qualities--crystals, chocobo, moogles, lifestreams, light and darkness, etc. etc. It was about taking a team of passionate people and letting them work their asses off on a new, distinct, and creative vision within the realm of the RPG. The stories could be anything, the worlds could be anything, the mechanics could (and should!) change on a dime. Nothing was sacred ground as long as you were doing something new and interesting. In a world where nearly every other franchise was obsessed with direct sequels and safe spinoffs, FF was one of the few remaining juggernauts that you could always count on to switch it up...and in that sense, XII shines. It shines as the final light that marked the transition from Square to Square Enix. The first in a long line of corporate gaming mergers that still rattles our world to this day.