So I played Drakengard 3 for about 7 hours when I was sick and in bed... and it is chaotic in the best sense of the word. I liked the pre-rendered backgrounds and wish there were more of them. I also liked the facial animations, and I think the game would be better if it had more close-ups of the characters.
In the end, I got tired, but I thought a lot while playing. From the moment I started the game, I liked the violence that the main protagonist inflicts on his enemies. It's chaotic violence, reflected on screen by the same kind of chaotic violence that's input on the controller: left trigger, square x4, triangle x2, jump, left trigger, right trigger, dpad up, change weapon, jump, triangle, square x5-7, triangle, left trigger, right trigger... and that's how a fight usually goes. It's a mashup of musou and hack'n'slash. It's so convoluted, and even at low framerates it's fun and it works, because the combos are simple but effective, and sometimes the enviroments adds to them.
But since the game's mythos is based on songs... I kept thinking about songs and where the ending could be heading to. So somehow I started to wander into what my intentions would be in writing or making a work of art. This problem has a name and it's motivation: "Why am I writing for? Is it because I want to open everyone's eyes by force or surprise?" No, I don't have any desire to be a self-imposer. I don't want others to hear a song that contains what I desire or what I've seen in the past - a song like that would make others want something, anything, and that's not my intention. In the end, I resolved that the kind of art I would like to make is the one where I try to prevent an image, to make a gaze avert or look for an image or vice versa, to actually take something into the future, or to make others dream or wake up... That's not always clear.