Below is a much too long, analytical, and spoiler-free review (does spoil stuff to do with Phoenix in game 4 though). If you just want the TLDR, only read the last two paragraphs and know you’ve probably made the correct choice. Don’t question the ramblings of a mad man driven to passionately write on experience with an individual art piece, but feel free to question my sanity

I was planning on reviewing Dual Destinies in the same format as I had for the other Phoenix Wright games: giving short paragraphs on gameplay experience, overall story, and an individual rating with quick comments for each case. I really loved this game when I had previously played it, way back when I was young and dumb enough to replay visual novels out of boredom, and expected to love this game in a similar way but with added perspective following gained experience analysing games that was learnt through (a LOT of) trial and error. After playing through the first two cases my expectations were disappointed, with the game itself being capable of only a surface level analysis due to the 'talk down' entry-level approach this game took, seemingly assuming new players of the series would be the majority audience (to be fair, this was the first Phoenix Wright game I ever played). I was beginning to realise exactly how I had changed over time, evolved in my capability to understand narrative and textually engage with art, to a point where it seemed I wasn’t having fun with the game anymore. My perceived truth of this game’s brilliance was tested (working backwards from an expected outcome with my experience wasn’t matching what I was actually experiencing while playing (pay attention, this pattern will return later)), the ideological themes weren’t being enacted as I’d expected, and the completeness and correctness of the overall storytelling wasn’t present (especially in the context of the Apollo Justice Trilogy, which is the version of the game I played). I looked forward to case 3 (Turnabout Academy) as I remembered it being exceptional for it’s message about a general correct moral philosophy to act with integrity and a more mature ideologically-charged plot by sinister actors, with the gimmick of a murder following a fake-murder trial’s script. At first the third case seemed to follow the same surface-level uninteresting steps as the first two cases in this game, being okay with mostly copying Apollo Justice’s case 3 (Turnabout Serenade), but by the end I found my perspective shifted back into understanding the surprisingly subtle genius permeating the entire game, and recontextualising my perception of this game and how it fits into where it does in the overall series’ story.

First, I want to touch on how the Phoenix Wright games are presented in the visual novel format, and how this presentation allows for certain methods of presenting information to the player, for either the purposes of storytelling or solving the case. The Ace Attorney games all follow a formulas to varying degrees which I tend to think of hierarchically;
- The overall case formatting (investigation -> trial -> repeat) involving gathering and presenting information in a scripted search for truth,
- Duelling perspective trials starting with the prosecution’s argument cornering the defence as they slowly unravel threads of logic into concrete proof through reason and evidence,
- The witness testimony leading into cross-examinations presenting (typically) inconsistent information which you will examine to gain a new common understanding,
as some broader to specific common examples. There are also more ‘gimmick’ context-specific formulas such as Phoenix’s psyche-locks, Apollo’s bracelet, and Athena’s psychotherapy, and these create expected seamless and streamlined modes of communicating information to the player. The means of enacting these formulas is by;
- Presenting text dialogue through boxes at the bottom of the screen
- Descriptions and images of objects and reports collected as evidence which is accessible at any time
- And invariable scripted animations.
Pacing will obviously become a problem with the methods the game uses to tell it’s stories, as it usually is in any interactive medium where a person can simply stop at any time, however this formula is surprisingly easy for the developers to pace so that the player usually follows an expected understanding of the case and story. The only way to get information is by ‘moving’ through the story, scenes, and interactions presented, therefore you mustn’t have more information than what is currently accessible to you, while scripted sequences are naturally intended to be paced as presented. As one revelation shocks you, your mind racing to understand the consequences as the dialogue box simply sits there waiting, the game is very smart to follow that up with another revelation or surprise which won’t give you time to think or react in scripted segments. The engagement you experience with the game changes throughout play between these two modes and simultaneously allows you to pace yourself to understand thematic context of what is being presented while still being able to rush you with information you may need to miss or digest in unison, irrespective of which method it uses to do so and at which hierarchical degree the game performs it at. This lets you really feel the messages and flow of the game to follow the logical puzzles presented literally and narratively, which the game very expertly switches up in the few times it breaks it’s own formula (in meaningful ways unique to these methods, that are mostly all spoilers). What’s really interesting is the two new additions to the base formula introduced in this game actively ruin the pacing and tonality of the established storytelling methods. The anime cutscenes, despite the fact it is a switch up on the formula, removes this unique contextual method of storytelling for a more generic cinematic approach adhering to scripted convention in ways which clash with the game’s methods. The revisualisations additionally ‘talk down’ to the player, removing the player’s ability to figure out an element of the mystery on their own, while simultaneously reducing the massive (commonly two answer) multiple choice of presenting evidence during trial to unengaging simple repeating 2-3 choices.

I hold the understanding that humans don’t actually follow logic through rationalization (actually thinking through the logic in their mind), and that instead we simulate logic through experienced and connected emotional reactions to patterns or simplified memorised conjugate reactions to prompts. This understanding may explain why some people have trouble with certain subjects in education, make common logical errors, fall for logical fallacies, and can be persuaded under a logical pretence through appeals to emotion. This game’s emo inmate prosecutor, Simon Blackquill, perfectly illustrates this last idea in his ‘psychological manipulations’ (commonly they're just logical fallacies or elevating authority over the judge) as he twists logical argument into emotional manipulations of the legal professionals and witnesses to simply accept his perspective. The signature method for argument used by Blackquill is control through manipulation, as he does not care for changing his argument based on new information but instead enforces a perceived ‘final truth’ in the form of a logical trap to convince you there is no alternative interpretation of the facts (despite this being a Phoenix Wright game where you must overturn the prosecution’s argument). Blackquill works backwards from perceived ‘absolute final truth’ to build his case (an end he uses to justify the means of getting there), and this often leads to his incorrect expectation of a ‘final truth’ being disproven by the defence during court (almost like my expectations of this game…). This is in direct contrast to the prosecuting philosophy of dispelling all doubt about the defendant’s guilt (against the opposing defence’s belief in their client’s innocence) to find the unbiased truth of the case, a philosophy which is held by a majority of the other prosecutors in these games. This clear disregard for a proper method of reasoning, and further disregard for the purpose of argument in court, represents the public’s opinion of the corrupt lawyer working under the dark age of the law in this world, with the strong example of misusing psychological practises by manipulating the human legal professionals enacting logical argument. Add in blatant assault through his hawk Taka scratching at people’s faces, intentionally missing attacks with concealed weaponry to shut people up, and breaking his shackles to remind everyone who’s in control of the situation, the courtroom becomes a power struggle held by the prosecution for whoever controls the court’s opinion. In contrast, the third protagonist of Dual Destinies, Athena Cykes, is a straight out of law school graduate who only follows proper methods and means of argument, despite her diverse over-the-top emotional states and alternative method of cross-examination through Widget’s Mood Matrix. Athena’s view on psychology in the courtroom is for it to be used alongside witness testimony to help guide the court towards a correct understanding of the facts of the case, as exemplified through her ‘therapy sessions’ constructing a mood matrix to accompany testimony, and to help people under immense turmoil recover to be able to aid in the pursuit of truth. Since the understanding is that humans experience logic through emotion, Athena represents an attempt to better understand these emotions to help enact logic or pursue truth in witness’ perceptions/perspectives. Athena believes the act of lawyering to be a collaborative process of discovering truth from the beginning of the story, however only truly understands the correct methods and means to contribute to this process throughout the events of the game, which is why she is able to escape Blackquill’s traps so easily and pursue truth despite lacking the ‘power’ in Blackquill’s court, but can't handle fears of inability and failure.

Speaking of, Phoenix Wright following his own trilogy has reached a point of mastery in the legal world and found his way into owning a small law firm (despite his best efforts) with two rookie lawyers who both now are learning their way in pursuing truth through the legal system. Despite how Phoenix had a mentor in Mia Fey in help him learn the basics of lawyering, he does not do the same for his apprentices in this game. In the 4th game, Phoenix is actively using Apollo as a bright-eyed defence lawyer recently out of a job and with a special perception power to further Phoenix’s own half-virtuous retribution, and thus the advice he gives is very lacking in substance and specific to the events of the game, especially with his new pessimism thrown in to his conversations. Now having recently reacquired his attorney’s badge, believing once again in the righteousness of the justice system and determined to put an end to the dark age of the law he himself helped permeate, it would make sense that he’d want to teach his associate attorneys his way of defending clients, eventually growing to figure out that Apollo and Athena would need to figure out their own way of seeking truth throughout the game. This is touched on in the special case (Turnabout Reclaimed), with Phoenix acting somewhat like a lax commandeering boss offloading all the unwanted and ‘un-fun’ work onto Apollo now that Phoenix can fight his own court cases, and exactly 8 lines out of some thousands where he remembers why he gives the advice he does. However the main game never does this, the most we textually get is Phoenix offscreen before the events of the game telling Athena that ‘the worst of times is when lawyers have to force their biggest smiles’. It seems like this theme of mentorship and evolving practice was a larger theme in the game that just got cut for some reason, as: certain pieces of dialogue feel unended between Phoenix and his workers, circumstances created in the story aren’t naturally leading into reflection on how the characters got there, they lean heavily into how the court system itself will escape the dark age of the law but not the practices the main characters take to achieve this, the characters being able to trust each other despite ignoring the distrust Phoenix created in game 4, and Apollo’s entire arc is centred around his extreme alternative method for finding the truth. Phoenix Wright always prioritises trusting his client no matter the situation, and Apollo Justice learns throughout the game how to follow that practice while accepting reasonable doubt in that trust into his work (which would be much more interesting if Apollo held a bit of a grudge against Phoenix for using him in the events of the 4th game, but he never actually correctly mentors Apollo so that grudge, if it existed, would never disappear). The perspective on the legal system held by the series until Dual Destinies (to have two opposing perspectives reason their understanding until there can be no more argument and an objective truth is found), where you need to be able to trust your clients to act as a successful defence attorney with integrity until that trust is broken, however Apollo accepts the prosecutor’s perspective of questioning every detail of the case to be able to guarantee the truth is found and presents this as a correct alternative method to be an amazing defence lawyer. Finally, the main character of the second trilogy (technically not, but his name’s on the trilogy) learns his unique method for being a defence attorney and is ready to find his own way, however his path to get there is tainted with the corruption standard in the legal system.

Now to get to the real meat of this game over these next two paragraphs, and what it represents for both the Apollo Justice Trilogy and fans discussing it online. The ‘dark age of the law’ being properly introduced, as the Wright Anything Agency begins to build itself back into a law firm, cleanly follows on from the callous disregard for lawful practices from the 4th game. The corruption more blatantly on display following a real conviction of a culprit in a practice trial for a new court system, all organised by Phoenix by the way, transitions a little more into the background and we get a peek at the roots of the more general corrupting practices that take place. Major overarching themes for the trilogy (established in Apollo Justice) become less subtextual and further abstracted into addressable ideas that the story can analyse and be combated or accepted, which are reiterated and evolved in Spirit of Justice. A returning convict prosecutor who represents the distrust the public has with the legal system (largely due to how they were convicted) is deemed as one of the two origins of this corruption, alongside Phoenix himself who basically all but admits his crime of forging evidence (as well as illegal surveillance) during the 4th case of the 4th game. These two polar opposite lawyers each made one mistake which ended up defining their legal system for 7 long years, and the standard practice became to win no matter what. The 3rd case (Turnabout Academy) revolves around one philosophy that perpetrates these acts, being that "the end justifies the means" where doing stuff like forging evidence is fine as long as you don't get caught (aka use any means possible to achieve the ideal end result). Each of Blackquill’s psychological traps introduced in the previous case follow this philosophy, as he doesn't care about searching for the truth but instead justifies his idea of the truth through fitting facts to his perception: an end he uses to justify the means of getting there. However, just as the presented righteous philosophy states "the means justifies the end", each time you escape one of Blackquill’s traps you do so because you took the correct exhaustive path to get there, often finding the facts contradict Blackquill's ‘truth’. For the second time ever in the series, the game takes a hard stance against this ideology and reasons the purposes of acting honourably with integrity in pursuing justice (the other time was the final case of Justice for All, ironically enough). However, the ‘dark age of the law’ is a powerful and difficult standard to remove for those who follow it, as it’s easy to abuse for deceit or personal gain, and the game takes the time to fully dismantle it in an ideological war for the future of the legal system. It reframes every aspect of the game you played, and approaching the game with this mindset leads to finding the purpose in those seemingly Phoenix Wright classic stock-standard first 2 cases of the game. Seeing the darkened moralistic debate silently occur across the wacky goofy Phoenix Wright hijinks is brilliant, but it’s also too bad it’s undercut by retreading and undoing the previous game’s steps.

To be fair, Apollo Justice wasn’t as silly goofy with classic hijinks, largely due to it’s attempts to create a distinct new Ace Attorney story in a darker context. It acts as a sort of generational sequel, continuing on from the original trilogy and the investigations games featuring an original series of characters and how they deal with similar experiences to the previous games, and this game really does not want to do any of that. The new Phoenix Wright team following Shu Takumi’s absence, while he worked on PWvsPL and TGAA:A, seem to be silently screaming through their actions that they really didn’t wanna deal with breaking narrative formula and really wanted to add another Phoenix Wright story. Phoenix Wright gets his badge back and wrenches control of the trilogy away from Apollo so he can repeat lessons learnt in his own trilogy, Apollo gets hard sidelined into 3rd character in the story after Athena, and Apollo’s own journey is completed in the length of one case (despite being talked about for most of the game). Sure, usually the Phoenix Wright formula involves some first case setup, into nothing happening for 2 cases, ending with one big old explosive ending to justify changes in perspective or identities, however you don’t have to treat a formulaic pattern in design as hard-set rules. Apollo Justice’s own game had a very subtle but clear direction where that formula was changing, with one large interconnected story sectioned into multiple cases across the game, but this game seems against this idea being implemented as the main plot as instead it's relegated to the C-plot involving Athena's trauma (which is ironic, given they go back to the massive overarching plot again in Spirit of Justice). Sure, you could argue ‘the dark age of the law’ is consistently foreshadowed in the previous cases, however this is again done the same as in Apollo Justice with Phoenix’s ‘forged evidence’ mystery. I’m not arguing for radical change, I’m simply offput by this game’s safety net of following formulaic storytelling when the story being told is really compelling, and could be even more so in moments when the pacing switches up. It feels like this game is content to simply do the motions in terms of especially the case structure, probably because it’s familiar and comforting. Speaking of, I honestly don’t even want the exact same Phoenix Wright to immediately come back in this game, I’d prefer if he had to earn his way into a changed perspective on the law that he could show in solving the final case. Nostalgia for the way things were should drive you to iterate on previous works, not copy-paste Phoenix from game 3 into game 5 with no changes (especially when Phoenix from game 4 contradicts that character (for good reasons explained in game 4)). This return to form never ruined my engagement with the game in any meaningful way, just added unnecessary friction into the experience I assume they intended to present.

So speaking of returning to form, I’m gonna list out all the cases and any notable comments like I usually do for these games’ reviews. I also found that there were unique themes that existed only for individual cases that additionally contribute towards the overarching ‘dark age of the law’ throughout the entire game, and so I have added each of these themes after the case name to help highlight exactly what I found.
- Case 1, Turnabout Countdown (Gluttony): Destructive over-indulgence with intent of continuing addicting behaviour. This case is way too eager to over-explain or hand-hold you through everything, and weirdly is the most anime influenced case in the game. Low tier 1st case that I’d put around the same quality as game 2’s 1st case
- Case 2, The Monstrous Turnabout (Greed): Overpowering desire to obtain unnecessary amounts of wealth or power. Pretty solid forgettable mid-game case that just kinda ends up being a lot of setup with little to no execution. Pretty good though, presenting a classic Phoenix Wright mystery while defining what this game’s gonna be like in subtle ways
- Case 3, Turnabout Academy (Pride): Ego defeating rationality to control action, defined by a dictatorial belief that you are right. While retreading similar steps to game 4’s case 3 (Turnabout Serenade), this game manages to quickly walk that path before continuing on it’s own new path through a much more interesting territory. The focus isn’t on the mystery presented but instead on the ideological conflict at play at Themis Legal, and it’s so engaging to follow along and participate in that debate. Definitely my favourite case of this game, 2nd favourite of the whole series after game 2 case 4
- Case 4, The Cosmic Turnabout (Sloth): A deliberate lack of action, especially when that laziness perpetrates deterioration. Honestly, it’s a strange case in a good way. The case is defined by what it sets up for what comes after it (I usually think of this case and case 5 as being one really big case), but still presents it’s own mystery in a largely complete and satisfying way. It really encompasses Takumi’s legacy of always adding more information
- Case 5, Turnabout for Tomorrow (Wrath): Complete and all-encompassing rage often targeted at someone or something that the perpetrator deems to have wronged them. Pretty solid callbacks and continuations of previous games, absolutely amazing completion of current game's unique stories and themes. We really get the full experience and justification for Athena’s unique ability pretty late in the game, but I love me some evolving gameplay. This case is an amazing conclusion, justifying all of the game in one giant war to end the dark age of the law and seek peace with opposing (and synergising) dual destinies
- Case 6, Turnabout Reclaimed (Envy): A sinister want to obtain qualities of life that others have, usually jealously resenting the life others enjoy. Despite the fact this is basically case 2.5, it does a better job of creating a complete story and interesting mystery with the same moral lesson as case 2. You really get the ‘normal case’ in Dual Destinies’ style with clean keyframed animations that can’t be done easily in 2D, and a further understanding for Blackquill’s disregarding expectation for corruption in the legal system. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a great case, that first day drags and the mystery seems much more focused on the aquarium than the actual murder.

There is so much this game achieves to be in spite of it’s strict adherence to patterns and ideas set forth by the games that came before it. Most fans tend to find this game lacklustre and inherently contradictory as a Phoenix Wright game, which I do agree that it fails to logically follow from game 4, however I argue these concessions were made to be able to present such a (weirdly shonen) inspection of lawful practices. I usually write reviews in one sitting directly after finishing the game, as I find experiences with games and games themselves to be things of passion (despite how sterile they can be in certain contexts), however this review took me a solid 2-3 weeks of drafting and editing due to how enthralling and cerebral it’s story is presented; I wanted to match the experience I had playing the game despite the review’s outcome being less of a narrative journey. Also it’s a visual novel, I think there’s a higher chance I can get away with writing an essay as a review for that genre. There were even things I left out due to length and lack of my own knowledge, like:
- The graphical challenge presenting expected mechanics while jumping to 3D
- Why certain mechanics may have been cut for time (like fingerprinting)
- Apollo receiving yet another backstory (I might get into that for my review on Spirit of Justice)
- Too many characters leading to Trucy being hard sidelined
- How they use discrete animations to represent the continuous spectrum of characters’ emotions, especially in the context of Athena’s power
- Using classic Phoenix Wright comedy in the more mature themes (and even how Justice for All’s last case didn't do that)
- Why do the Phoenix Wright writers love making time intervals of 7 years for corruption to propagate
- The DLC being so disconnected from the main game, and reasons the DLC may even exist in the first place
- Phoenix’s new relationships at the Wright Anything Agency and old relationships with the Fey family
This is an amazing game that I found you need a certain mindset to perceive it as such, especially during the first 2 cases. In terms of a recommendation, I’d say it defines the place it takes in the Apollo Justice trilogy and shouldn’t be skipped if you haven't played it before, however it’s definitely worth an individual playthrough even as your first Phoenix Wright game (might even be more enjoyable that way given the super straight-forward first 2 cases). I understand that most people who already don’t like the game won’t be reading this sentence. If nothing else I hope that I successfully argued how fervently Blackquill-pilled I am.

Really makes you feel like reincarnate correctness, the conjoined fates of solar magistrate and wisdom amped

Damn you're really gonna make this as your first game? Go all in on the Aragami, Dishonored, and Thief style of stealth adventure games, throw in some unique twist on the shadow powers, and roll that wheel? Mad respect, it was pretty good

Going against the norm for these types of games, the worldbuilding was honestly my favourite part. The plot is very generic to the genre it's working in, but the cleanliness of the context really makes up for going through the same plot beats again, especially for resolving problems between mixing magic into a sci-fi world. The patterns for how the story progresses starts deviating once the game is ending, in ways that were both incredibly obvious and synergistic with the gameplay, but not necessarily in a good satisfying conclusory way. It's clear Baby Robot Games really wanna make another game centred around Khepri and the Ereban again, but for a first game this large you gotta put most of your eggs in this basket and commit to a complete experience for this game. I've got more specific complaints (especially with the ending), but this is a spoiler free review so I'm not doing it.

And just as important to the plot being presented is how it's told, which comes in varying levels of quality. Top of the list is the logs, they're consistently great to read and usually filled with either nice little consequences of the world and game design, or a neat little reference to inspirations or earlier elements that this game presents. Next up is conversations between characters, usually pretty good with some stellar voice actors (who get to actually add some characterisation while performing) with some misses in the writing, always fun to see two characters who don't trust each other talk about stuff that matters to both of them though. And lastly is people talking to themselves or to someone who can't talk back, this is consistenly bad for some reason, chock full with bad quips like they're a form of post-marvel lara croft or people saying things aloud so the player can be reminded of something they were told less than a minute ago.

The gameplay is honestly exactly as you expect it to be, or at least it was for me. Trying to emulate the shadow powers from Aragami in a 'tool-kit' of abilities from Dishonored with a mix of straight-forward and exploratory level design from any game in the genre. The fun part, and the mechanic that trivialises everything else, is shadow merging (which the devs said in an FAQ was taken from Splatoon). While the ability is incredibly freeing and allows the player to be more active more often while playing, it also makes every other ability completely useless or need to be broken to match. Why blind someone when their sightline doesn't matter when you're merged? Why give us the ability to become invisible for a significant period of time but only while in shadow, then fill every level with mostly shadows? I assume the answer to both of these is to add more engaging mechanics, however it feels like the intended method of playing the game and the actual design of the game presented are in disagreement. Just to reinforce this theory, the morality's outcomes are so trivial it's laughable, as all that time you spent keeping the bots alive are rendered comedic once you realize what purpose it serves.

The visuals of the game are surprisingly unique for how much it tries to emulate the generic palettes of unity and unreal engine. The cartoony characters pop against the texture-matted environments, while they blend seemlessly into the anti-aliased over bloomed sharpened geometric details the game engine creates. While the shading and colour choices come off as generic it really creates this clean visual style between the light and dark in a less sharp contrast while lending itself to focus on visual clarity. Plus the texture and model designs add a lot of personality and detail on top of the shading and colouring that helps sell other aspects of the game as more natural. It becomes very eye-catching while remaining integrated into the experience, which especially helps the constant blending of light and dark in the environments.

This seems like a real achievement for a studio's first game, managing to reach a level of great quality with a scope and execution this big and maintain the ambition to iterate on a well-established genre, but it's actually their second game. You can find the Ereban prologue in a first free game called Atlas' Fate, which I'd recommend as a taster for what this game is like (just given from what I've seen, haven't played it myself). I already know that Baby Robot's next game will be baller after a little more experience, so the question becomes do they survive long enough to make it? I feel like the endings to the game will give a good indicator of people's thoughts on the possibility, as it somewhat feels like the perspectives the game could hold on itself

Really makes you feel like Yhelba: Veil Heritage