Heretick
2010
Massively unpopular opinion, but, if you include DLC, this is the weakest of the trilogy. The gameplay change was a necessary step from 1, but it's neither as deep an RPG as 1, nor as good of a shooter as 3. The story is also the least consequential of every one in the trilogy, and the best parts of the story really don't happen until the final fourth of the game. The only thing that I think really stands out as the best in series compared to 1 and 3 is some of the character writing. Still a great game, but it's the one I look forward to the least on trilogy playthroughs, and I find large sections of it (especially replaying certain loyalty missions) to be a slog. Plus it has Jacob in it. Gross.
2019
A much needed recalibration of the good-but-disappointing Persona 5. Reworks of the flow, translation, dungeons, and combat in ways the massively improve virtually all the problems I thought the original had. All of the new content is worthwhile, as well, and integrates pretty seamlessly. It's still my least favorite of the modern Persona games (i.e. 3, 4, and 5) due to the fact that it tries to have the best elements both thematically and tonally of both 3 and 4 but fails to hit the astronomical highs of either of them in their specialties. A less flawed game than 3 or 4, but also quite a bit less charming. Still, an incredible game.
This review contains spoilers
"'Tis your birth and faith that wrong you, not I"
An unparalleled masterpiece. Two of the best composers, one of the best artists, and the absolute best writer/director in video games (backed by Squaresoft's money which, at the time, was certainly not a trifling amount) converge to craft a piece of art so weighty, thoughtful, deep, and downright FUN that nothing has really come close before or since.
FFT sits comfortably as the middle entry in what I consider to be writer/director Yasumi Matsuno's genius period, starting with Tactics Ogre and ending with Vagrant Story. A three game run that I believe will stand the test of time as beacons of true art in video gaming space, and FFT tops the lot.
More refined that its spiritual predecessor Tactics Ogre, due to eschewing limitations (TO was a SNES game) and a more focused narrative (TO's branching paths were brilliant and revolutionary, but the SNES's limited memory left each path narratively slimmer than the material deserved) and more of a well rounded design than Vagrant Story (whose gameplay has likely aged the worst out of the three), Final Fantasy Tactics is the rare game in which each disparate part functions in perfect, irreplaceable harmony with each-other; The music is perfect for the narrative, which is perfect for the art, which is perfect for the gameplay, which is perfect for the music, etc., etc.
The narrative of FFT can be compartmentalized into three distinct sections: The first is an investigation into class disparity and the damage caused by the notion that people born into wealth and power are somehow more worthy as human beings than those born in less fortunate circumstances. This theme reverberates throughout the game- especially in the matter between protagonist Ramza's perceived lowlier parentage than his half brothers' "purer" noble blood- but is most thoroughly investigated in the games first chapter.
The second piece of FFT's story comes in the form of the political machinations behind a war of succession which was sparked in the fallout of the King of Ivalice's (possibly unnatural) death. This theme is tightly interwoven with the previous; these powerful people who enact the war's scheming and vying for further power is carefully implied to be a direct result of the warped sense of importance- both internally and externally- that being born high into the class system has engendered in them. This ultimately manifests as an utter lack of empathy from those at the top of the hierarchy, even for each other, resulting in numerous betrayals and atrocities.
The third and final cornerstone of FFT's narrative is a religious aspect, and can either be viewed as a thinly veiled, highly critical critique of the Catholic Church, or as a more straightforward demonic-fantasy deus ex machina that just happens to be based in Christian mythology. I choose to believe the former, as it simply makes more sense thematically and intellectually with the rest of the game. The Lucavi (powerful demons, in the game's religion) ARE a sort of deus ex machina to an extent- a real, tangible cabal who, under the guise of the church, manipulated and puppeteered the powerful politicians and clergymen to start the war- who could realistically be stopped by powerful enough warriors (in this case, the protagonist Ramza and his party). This provides a clean way to (almost) completely stymie the threat and wrap the story up neatly, and mostly happily. Matsuno has spoken before (humbly, in my opinion) about how he sees himself as a business man, not a writer, and is trying to create games that both appeal to broad audiences and fill a niche that is missing in the current gaming space. This makes total sense- the demons serve both as a fantastical element that will appeal to Final Fantasy fans and as a plot point that can tie everything together neatly and leave the story with very few loose ends, which was far more common in gaming at the time. What players were accustomed to, at least certainly in console games, were fairly straightforward stories with happy endings. The enemies were apparent, and you always had a way to stop them. This, however, wouldn't work with what I think the Lucavi are ACTUALLY an allegory for, which is the Catholic Church and the power they have wielded- and atrocities they have committed- throughout their history. If this story had been done straight- i.e., without the demons, the concept would have likely been deemed too nebulous and powerful for a single man and his party to "defeat." Plus, the demon route allows for the main antagonist- basically Jesus- to imply that Ramza is the descendant of the the one who defeated him before. So basically, FFT is a Shakespearean play in which the descendant of Judas kills Jesus at the second coming. Highly entertaining for an infidel like me.
The art and direction are just as transcendent as the writing. Akihiko Yoshida (Neir: Automata, Final Fantasy XII and XIV)'s best-in-the-business character art is translated beautifully into some of the best looking spritework this side of the indie game pixel art boom, and the not overly-ambitious 3d maps complement them perfectly. Combined with the pitch-perfect direction of the cutscenes (Matsuno has stated that he tried to direct them more like a stage play, to complement the game's fixed camera perspective) and incredible (and often times unique) animations in them, the game is still a joy to look at to this day, unlike most of it's PS1-era contemporaries.
The music's beauty can likewise not be understated; Always perfect for the mood of the scene, intelligently composed, and just downright gorgeous to listen to, Masaharu Iwata and Hitoshi Sakimoto's score is a masterclass in theme and composition. I'll be thinking about Hero's Theme until I die, and I hope they put me in the dirt while it's playing. Truly incredible stuff.
Finally, the gameplay. The systems, created by Hiroyuki Ito (creator of the classic FF ATB battle system, as well as director of multiple classic FFs), are so full of depth and player choice that no two games will ever be the same. This is the deepest and best implementation of the Job system the franchise has ever achieved, and allows for a wide and complex variance in both play styles and difficulty. FFT can be one of the most difficult RPGs you've ever played... unless you take the time to master it's systems and nuances. Then you can steamroll the game into oblivion. Certain notorious difficulty spikes aside, this, to me, is the platonic ideal of game balance. The game, while it seems punishing at first, gives you all the tools needed to not only master it, but to destroy it. It's simply up to you to learn how to use them. FFT's systems stand alone amongst TRPGs. Often imitated, but never surpassed. Never even matched.
To say it's my favorite game of all time is a gross understatement. It is threaded deeply into the very fabric of my being. I've played it at least once a year every year since I was 8 years old (It'll be the 19th year this year). I have the Sword/T in "Fantasy" from the logo tattooed on my arm, and it's my only tattoo. My dog's name is Agrias. No matter how many "just good" games Yasumi Matsuno has put out since TO, FFT, and VS, he will always be an idol I aspire towards in my writing. So yes, I know for a fact that FFT is my favorite game of all time. I also know for a fact that I will argue that it's the greatest game of all time. I know I wouldn't have a great deal many people on my side in that respect, but that ultimately doesn't matter. Because I believe.
An unparalleled masterpiece. Two of the best composers, one of the best artists, and the absolute best writer/director in video games (backed by Squaresoft's money which, at the time, was certainly not a trifling amount) converge to craft a piece of art so weighty, thoughtful, deep, and downright FUN that nothing has really come close before or since.
FFT sits comfortably as the middle entry in what I consider to be writer/director Yasumi Matsuno's genius period, starting with Tactics Ogre and ending with Vagrant Story. A three game run that I believe will stand the test of time as beacons of true art in video gaming space, and FFT tops the lot.
More refined that its spiritual predecessor Tactics Ogre, due to eschewing limitations (TO was a SNES game) and a more focused narrative (TO's branching paths were brilliant and revolutionary, but the SNES's limited memory left each path narratively slimmer than the material deserved) and more of a well rounded design than Vagrant Story (whose gameplay has likely aged the worst out of the three), Final Fantasy Tactics is the rare game in which each disparate part functions in perfect, irreplaceable harmony with each-other; The music is perfect for the narrative, which is perfect for the art, which is perfect for the gameplay, which is perfect for the music, etc., etc.
The narrative of FFT can be compartmentalized into three distinct sections: The first is an investigation into class disparity and the damage caused by the notion that people born into wealth and power are somehow more worthy as human beings than those born in less fortunate circumstances. This theme reverberates throughout the game- especially in the matter between protagonist Ramza's perceived lowlier parentage than his half brothers' "purer" noble blood- but is most thoroughly investigated in the games first chapter.
The second piece of FFT's story comes in the form of the political machinations behind a war of succession which was sparked in the fallout of the King of Ivalice's (possibly unnatural) death. This theme is tightly interwoven with the previous; these powerful people who enact the war's scheming and vying for further power is carefully implied to be a direct result of the warped sense of importance- both internally and externally- that being born high into the class system has engendered in them. This ultimately manifests as an utter lack of empathy from those at the top of the hierarchy, even for each other, resulting in numerous betrayals and atrocities.
The third and final cornerstone of FFT's narrative is a religious aspect, and can either be viewed as a thinly veiled, highly critical critique of the Catholic Church, or as a more straightforward demonic-fantasy deus ex machina that just happens to be based in Christian mythology. I choose to believe the former, as it simply makes more sense thematically and intellectually with the rest of the game. The Lucavi (powerful demons, in the game's religion) ARE a sort of deus ex machina to an extent- a real, tangible cabal who, under the guise of the church, manipulated and puppeteered the powerful politicians and clergymen to start the war- who could realistically be stopped by powerful enough warriors (in this case, the protagonist Ramza and his party). This provides a clean way to (almost) completely stymie the threat and wrap the story up neatly, and mostly happily. Matsuno has spoken before (humbly, in my opinion) about how he sees himself as a business man, not a writer, and is trying to create games that both appeal to broad audiences and fill a niche that is missing in the current gaming space. This makes total sense- the demons serve both as a fantastical element that will appeal to Final Fantasy fans and as a plot point that can tie everything together neatly and leave the story with very few loose ends, which was far more common in gaming at the time. What players were accustomed to, at least certainly in console games, were fairly straightforward stories with happy endings. The enemies were apparent, and you always had a way to stop them. This, however, wouldn't work with what I think the Lucavi are ACTUALLY an allegory for, which is the Catholic Church and the power they have wielded- and atrocities they have committed- throughout their history. If this story had been done straight- i.e., without the demons, the concept would have likely been deemed too nebulous and powerful for a single man and his party to "defeat." Plus, the demon route allows for the main antagonist- basically Jesus- to imply that Ramza is the descendant of the the one who defeated him before. So basically, FFT is a Shakespearean play in which the descendant of Judas kills Jesus at the second coming. Highly entertaining for an infidel like me.
The art and direction are just as transcendent as the writing. Akihiko Yoshida (Neir: Automata, Final Fantasy XII and XIV)'s best-in-the-business character art is translated beautifully into some of the best looking spritework this side of the indie game pixel art boom, and the not overly-ambitious 3d maps complement them perfectly. Combined with the pitch-perfect direction of the cutscenes (Matsuno has stated that he tried to direct them more like a stage play, to complement the game's fixed camera perspective) and incredible (and often times unique) animations in them, the game is still a joy to look at to this day, unlike most of it's PS1-era contemporaries.
The music's beauty can likewise not be understated; Always perfect for the mood of the scene, intelligently composed, and just downright gorgeous to listen to, Masaharu Iwata and Hitoshi Sakimoto's score is a masterclass in theme and composition. I'll be thinking about Hero's Theme until I die, and I hope they put me in the dirt while it's playing. Truly incredible stuff.
Finally, the gameplay. The systems, created by Hiroyuki Ito (creator of the classic FF ATB battle system, as well as director of multiple classic FFs), are so full of depth and player choice that no two games will ever be the same. This is the deepest and best implementation of the Job system the franchise has ever achieved, and allows for a wide and complex variance in both play styles and difficulty. FFT can be one of the most difficult RPGs you've ever played... unless you take the time to master it's systems and nuances. Then you can steamroll the game into oblivion. Certain notorious difficulty spikes aside, this, to me, is the platonic ideal of game balance. The game, while it seems punishing at first, gives you all the tools needed to not only master it, but to destroy it. It's simply up to you to learn how to use them. FFT's systems stand alone amongst TRPGs. Often imitated, but never surpassed. Never even matched.
To say it's my favorite game of all time is a gross understatement. It is threaded deeply into the very fabric of my being. I've played it at least once a year every year since I was 8 years old (It'll be the 19th year this year). I have the Sword/T in "Fantasy" from the logo tattooed on my arm, and it's my only tattoo. My dog's name is Agrias. No matter how many "just good" games Yasumi Matsuno has put out since TO, FFT, and VS, he will always be an idol I aspire towards in my writing. So yes, I know for a fact that FFT is my favorite game of all time. I also know for a fact that I will argue that it's the greatest game of all time. I know I wouldn't have a great deal many people on my side in that respect, but that ultimately doesn't matter. Because I believe.