I dug up a review/piece I wrote about Earthbound in 2017 on my old blog. I'd like to post it here:

"What does Earthbound mean to you?

In Itoi’s interview regarding Earthbound’s U.S. re-release on the Wii U Virtual Console, he looks back on Earthbound and describes his views on it now as a playground he threw stuff in for himself and everyone else to play in, and that everyone takes something completely different away from these bits and bobs he's filled it with. A communal sort-of game, in which children make up stories and ideas as they go along and put it right in with the rest of the make-believe. When you have a group of friends in a playground, kids will often enter and leave as their parents drop them off and pick them up, and little by little the stories the group goes on changes as children come and go. Between zombies, aliens, the future, and whatever else kids either think about or wonder about their own world. And of course, the longer this goes on, eventually dark thoughts and feelings enter. Relationships form, and people realize things about themselves and each other.

A lot of the spirit of a shapeshifting make-believe can be found in the game’s stories themselves, as each town is going through some crazy problem, and as the heroes continue their adventure, each new scenario adds something completely separate to the mix of fictional situations, drawing from all sorts of American cultural iconography and imagery.

This is another reason the game is so interesting, it as an adventure through a self-parody of the American youth, the landscape of American suburban adventure (or as it is referred to in the game: “Eagleland”) with the coming-of-age spirit so prevalent in American fiction. But it is told through the mechanics, systems, and interface of classically Japanese role-playing games, namely Dragon Quest. The inclusion of (pseudo) first person battles (albeit influenced by psychedelic visuals, as they take over the background of each fight), a command menu, stat growth, and equipment/inventory all pulled from the Dragon Quest system. This combination of simultaneous parody of Japanese systems and American culture and iconography makes it a truly unique international cultural creation.

In addition to this, the localization of the game lends itself very much to the identity of Earthbound. Much of the Japanese humor that would have been lost in translation is rewritten, but still preserves the wit and verbal/deadpan tone of the original. The octopus statue blocking your way in a valley is replaced with a pencil, to allow for the invention of the iconic “Pencil Eraser” (Just don’t use it in a pencil store!), a now staple joke of the game, with which the identity of the American version of the game just wouldn’t be the same without. Of course, the “Eraser Eraser” continuation of the joke found later in the game acts as an even better secondary punchline to the same joke.

Much of the game often feels like a rambling collection of jokes, ideas, and views on the world. Nothing is quite told boringly or without clear authorial perspective. It brings to mind the sort of writing that books like Cat’s Cradle used, in which Vonnegut described as each chapter being a small chip of the whole book, and each chip is a little joke in and of its own.

The U.S. release, in specific, is the Earthbound I think of so fondly when I think of the game. And I find that name so fitting as opposed to its Japanese name.

Earthbound.

Despite all the adventuring, all the crazy, wacky, surreal stories you learn and experience, even with the threat and exposure to extraterrestrial life within the game, your characters, your experiences, everything you do is very much bound to the planet Earth. Every idea in the game, every character you meet, makes up one grand image of the world that the game, in essence, is presenting to you as you explore it with your d-pad.

The NPC’s of the game are some of the most iconic in any, and the reason for that is that their dialogue is written so unpredictably and humorously, but yet so truthful to their representations of their roles as humans. A businessman in Earthbound will not sound like a businessman you meet on the street. He will sound like a caricature of what a businessman would sound like, knowing that he’s a businessman in this world of hundreds of other people and hundreds of other types of people. And in knowing that, he has found joy and laughter understanding his place. Each character is a figment of themselves in the eyes of a child innocently wandering around.

There is a famous English saying, “it takes all sorts (to make a world)”, that is often used to understand strangeness or foreignness in the world and in people. People often use it when they find something difficult to understand, because of how strange and foreign it might be, so they make the claim that the world must be so big, that it must require all sorts of strangeness and foreignness and things of all sorts of manners hard to understand, for it to exist as big as it does.

Earthbound, to me at least, is like a literal, humorous depiction of that phrase. Every character, every strange, surreal person that appears so plain, has to be there to make up this world. This Earth that we are all bound to."

If you read it all, thank you

GOING TO DO SIR MAXIMUS TIER LIST OK

ok so for 1st place I would have to give it to sir maximus II, his story of revenge for his father is such a captivating experience to withheld, what you thought was a joke "boss" by fighting sir maximus l is now making you feel guilty for having killed what is essentially an important character for sir maximus ll, even in the fight against him he becomes the emotion of sadness, my thoughts of him becoming sad is because he's of course missing his father, the thing is becoming the emotion of angry beats sad which could have a deep meaning of the other people around sir maximus ll being abusive towards him. What I'm trying to say is that sir maximus l is such a big comfort for him, once he has discovered that his father is dead he could not believe so he decides to step up and try to conquer his fear of always being abused and try to defeat Omori and his friends, but he fails to succeed on doing this, at his last breath he remembers his father and his ultimate attack and does it to at least try to kill Omori and his friend for one last move, unfortunately they survive and fails leading to his death and his last words, "Father...Forgive me. I'm sorry...I have failed" as he then proceeds to dying. at the end of it all at least he gets to reunite with his father as they both get to happily be with each other in the after life.

2nd place definitely has to be sir maximus l, the one that started it all the first of the 4 sir maximus, he is truly a smart character in the game as he can detect that the sprout mole masks that Omori and company are wearing, he is one that truly appreciates his family as he says that he will bring honor to his family for there being intruders in sweetheart's castle, an amazing father figure for all his family that everyone should wish to have.

honorable mention goes to sir maximus IV: you don't necessarily fight him due to the grief of all the sir maximus from I-IIII, he kind of chilling though hopefully he doesn't become an alcoholic.

3rd place has to go to sir maximus llI....LITERALLY THE WORST HE JUST RUINED ALL THE TENSION IN IT AND IS LITERALLY TRYING TO BE AS PAINED AS SIR MAXIMUS III HES THE ONLY ONE THAT DESERVED DEATH.

Dauntless and insurmountable feat would it be to fill in Earthbound's ridiculously sized shoes, but nonetheless not only does Mother 3 achieve such task, it charts its own course through one of the most unique and thoughful experiences the medium has ever seen.

In contrast to Earthbound's freeform and loose storytelling, Mother 3 opts instead for a much more laser focused narrative that has its characters witnessing the corruption of their idyllic reality, which destabilizes their community and family bonds in the process. This change of narrative structure translates to a reduction in off the beaten path detours and non sequiturs that decorate much of the diverse and out there adventure found in Earthbound, but Mother 3 more than makes up for it by utilizing the pre-established and beloved tone of the series to subvert it and twist it just enough to frame a much more personal and intimate experience, while still maintaining the foundation that defines the franchise.

Without sacrificing any of the strengths and characteristics that make videogames unique in the storytelling artform, Mother 3 manages to create a surprisingly emotional and meaningful story that contemplates the disruptive nature of time and progress on stagnated unrealistic ideals, the folly of a lack of introspection and hindsight in day to day life relationships, or the need for growth and maturity during the moments life beats you down , without ever having to condescend to the player or step outside its fun, joyful and charismatic universe. It uses the power of nostalgia and childhood, inside and outside the game, to construct a strong connection between the player and the screen, while also acknowledging the danger of said sentiment and even weaponizing it against you, cementing its antagonist as one of the greatest villains in fiction in the process.

As you watch your home town transform during the course of the game just by the act of walking by it and speaking to its neighbours, Mother 3's seemingly surface level anti-capitalism theme opens up to reveal a much more empathetic and understanding examination of the mundane and human misgivings and mistakes we all end up falling into once in a while, never fully condemning the characters that inhabit its world, unlike much more blatant and obvious recent titles aspiring to some artistic merit.

While there's a certain sadness in the inevitability of Itoi never again making a videogame, it is fitting that he would leave us on such a high note. Coming back to this series would in some way detract from the overall message these games have always strived to impart on the player, and trying to one up Mother 3 would be a massive mistake. As it stands, Mother 3 has the qualities of a great novel. You can pick apart its more obvious themes and messages and always find something else beneath it more interesting. I could go on about how engaging the rhythm combat is in contrast to other JRPGs. I could ramble on about the numerous NPCs that betray their 2D aesthetic with incredible one liners that destroy any pretentious triple A story driven shlock. I could fawn over the incredible execution of the final boss and how the game manages to poignantly break the 4th wall once again like its predecessor did.

But why bother? Discussing these aspects would be reducing the art, Mother 3 is meant to be played. Oh, wait. You can't play it. Add it to the ever increasing bucket of baffling and nonsensical Nintendo decisions.

It's hard to put into words what hearing "The Place I'll Return To Someday" as I booted Final Fantasy IX almost 20 years after I first played it made me feel. Whenever people bring up IX on the FF discourse, it's inevitable that it will be referenced as the "return to the roots" of the franchise, a celebration and throwback to the old FF style of the NES and SNES day. That would be however selling IX short, as it stands as a wholy unique and standout in the series, filled with a very specific magic and craft not found in the rest of the entries.

Coming at the tail end of the Playstation's life cycle, IX presents itself as the most confident and polished 32 bit FF without the awkwardness of VII's first steps into the 3D age or VIII's identity crisis. Framed as a Shakespearean tale, IX boasts the most lavished and outstanding pre-rendered backgrounds the system can offer, a fantastical believable world to explore drenched in personality, and arguably one of the best soundtracks in the whole franchise, all combining to create an impressive and engaging emotional roller-coaster.

Of course, what elevates IX even further is without a doubt its cast of characters. Moving away from the gloomy and teenager previous two entries, IX presents a group of charismatic misfits straight out of a drama play that have such wonderful interplay and banter between each other. From Zidane's playful flirtishious and carefree nature, to Steiner's obnoxious gallantry and prissiness, to Vivi's bashful inquisite and cowardly personality, it's incredibly easy to fall in love with the cast and care for each of them as the plot gets going.

It's understandable that some might look at IX as the "childish" entry in the PS1 trilogy, since it's presentation and script give a great vibe of fairytale adventuring, but it's within those expectations and constraints that IX shines the most. As the story develops, our protagonists find themselves at numerous crossroads and conflits that speak to their struggles and desires, and the game presents surprisingly poignant and mature subject matters, like confronting one's own mortality, that turn IX into an incredible personal and profound experience.

As our heroes come apart at the end of the first act when things start going south and they reunite back at the start of the third act, it becomes evident to see that IX has a firm grasp on the power of storytelling and uses it to its fullest advantage. Zidane and Garnet's natural relationship development propels the narrative forward beautifully, and the members that progressively get added to your team only end up enriching it, and by the end when IX uses the power of its medium to deliver the "Your're Not Alone" setpiece to answer the age old question of why you should strive to be good, you will know you will carry these characters with you beyond the game.

IX doesnt have the best combat nor the best graphics in the series. It doesnt have the history and influence titles like VI or VII have. The third act isnt as tightly constructed as the previous two, and Amarant gets into the team a little to late for the player to care for him. It's not perfect. But it doesnt have to be. IX is the quintessencial example of "bigger than the sum of its parts", and you will be hard pressed to not feel a tingle of joy mixed with sadness as those credits roll. It was nice to revist Final Fantasy IX, the game that first showed me that there was more to videogames than just levels to be completed. Goodbye, the place I'll return to someday.