140 Reviews liked by Marley


For every good thing about this game there's probably five just as bad. It's a game that shows immense early promise and then slowly grinds you down until you cant wait for it to be over. Incredible highs lead way into baffling lows. The combat initially shows depth and promise but lives up to none of it. The story is a complete mess that despite trying to break new ground for the franchise ends with literally the power of friendship defeating god.

It is an absolutely gorgeous game with stunning vistas that are completely devoid of any meaningful things to do. Eikon battles provide truly spectacular moments but in between forces menial busywork.

All in all a massive disappointment.

With all honesty, this game was not worth buying a PS5 for.

It's by no means a bad game nor a bad Final Fantasy, but it definitely is one of my least favorite Final Fantasy games. Throughout my entire playthrough I struggled to see what people saw in it, and believe me I really wanted to see the hype considering it's the reason why I bought a PS5.

My biggest gripe with the game was the writing. I felt like the initial premise fell apart a lot. The story feels like two different plot points trying to meet only they missed the margin. It definitely didn't help that this game was marketed as a Game of Thrones styled Final Fantasy which is just absolutely a horrible marketing idea.

I did enjoy the boss fights a LOT however. One of the very few games I've played where I get excited to fight a boss. If there's one thing this game is a masterclass of its the boss fights.

One definitive trait about Final Fantasy is that it has never been shy to allow men to feel and display emotions and be sensitive, even from their tougher looking and criminally behaved characters; so its no surprise FFXVI takes it up a notch. The healthy and endearing display of vulnerability in masculinity was something I adored a lot in this game that quite honestly could've gone for more! I absolutely loved seeing the boys in this game express genuine love for each other. Just sucks that the game kind has some bad writing on women. It's not the worst I've seen in a game, but in this day and age it just doesn't age well at all.

Anyways, there's an elephant in the room that I have to point out. It's lack of fan service. Square created another generation of lovable and memorable characters with a fleshed out world filled with lore, yet they really did not give them much opportunity to do fan service like other FF games have (i.e. FFVII Golden Saucer date, FFIX cast members marrying each other like Vivi and Quina, or like literally any thing and event from FFX-2). It may not seem like a necessary addition to the game, but if they spent all this time creating a fleshed out world filled with an emphasis of lore it'd also be nice to see the cast just doing things on their down time for fun or shits and giggles. I feel like my experience with the game would be improved, but I acknowledge its not a necessity so do with this criticism as you will.

There is no denying it, Final Fantasy XVI is a Final Fantasy game through and through. To the naysayers who say it isn't a true Final Fantasy they really haven't been paying attention to what Final Fantasy is about: romantic epic tales about overcoming oppressive entities and deities and discovering what it means to be and other existential concepts. I just wish the writing in this game felt more coherent or at least engaging as I have tuned out way more than I would've liked to with the pacing feeling like a slog, and also again more fan service.

Yoshi who?

Edit: Okay, I'll expand a bit.

To me its very obvious that the only redeeming parts of this game are the parts that Ryota Suzuki and Platinum Games worked on. I never got into FF14, but believed Gamers that "it got good eventually". Based on this, I seriously doubt how that's possible.

This review contains spoilers

"You have died, and the Nexus has trapped your soul."

"You cannot escape the Nexus."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

CW: Brief discussion on the game's use of rape

In Elden Ring, you can never discover anything once. That was the thought that entered my head early in the experience and never quite left it. One of the most evocative parts of the game's genuinely stunning art direction is the walking cathedral, a strange and arresting colossus that stumbles across the Weeping Peninsula, each step ringing the bell that hangs beneath its torso. It was a sight of strange, beautiful magic, the kind of which these games have been good at in the past.

Except, to describe this creature in the singular would be inaccurate. Because Walking Cathedrals appear all over the world of Elden Ring, each one identical in appearance, each one performing an identical, express mechanical function for the player. This cannot be left alone as a strange, unique beast, it has to be reduced to a Type of Content a player can engage with over and over again for a characterless transaction of pure mechanics. It is the excitement of coming across something esoteric that the Souls games have made a core part of their identity, utterly commodified and made into the exact same arc that applied to Assassin's Creed the moment climbing a tower to survey the environment and taking a leap of faith into a haystack below shifted from an exciting and evocative moment into a rote and tiresome mechanical interaction.

Because, that's right everyone, Dark Souls Is Now Open World. Not an open world in the same way that Demon's Souls, Dark Souls, or Dark Souls II were, where you could freely venture down different paths to different bosses and take things in an order outside of the game's expected leveling curve. No, this is an Open World as we understand it today: an enormous ocean of discrete repeated Activities dotted with islands of meaningful bespoke design. There's plenty of stuff to do in this world, but it's all of a specific type - in a catacomb you will navigate stone gargoyles and chalice dungeon designs to a lever that will open a door near the entrance that will contain a boss that you've likely found elsewhere in the world, and will be filled with stone gargoyles. Mines will be filled with mining rock-people and upgrade materials. Towers will have you find three spectral creatures around them in order to open them up and obtain a new Memory Slot. Camps will contain a patrolling enemy type and some loot. Even genuinely enchanting vistas and environments get their space to be repeated in slight variations. Boss battles too will be repeated endlessly, time and time again, with delightful designs like the Watchdog tragically becoming something I sighed and was annoyed to see crop up half-a-dozen times over the course of the adventure, and I was truly, deeply annoyed at fighting no less than about ten or twelve Erdtree Avatars and Dragons, with whom the moves never change and the fight plays out the exact same way every single time.

The first time I discovered these things, I was surprised, delighted even, but by even the second time, the truth that these are copied-and-pasted across the entirety of the Lands Between in order to pad it out became readily apparent, and eventually worn away even the enthusiasm of that first encounter. When I look back on my genuine enjoyment of the first battle with the Erdtree Avatar, I can only feel like an idiot for not realizing that this fight would be repeated verbatim over and over and become less fun every single time. When you've seen one, you've really seen all of them, and this means that by the time you leave Limgrave, you've already seen everything the Open World has to offer.

This is, of course, to be expected. Open world games simply have to do this. They are an enormous effort to bring into life, and the realities of game production mean that unless you're willing to spend decades on one game, you're going to have to be thrifty with how you produce content. I expect this, I understand this. Fallout: New Vegas is probably my favorite Open World game, but its world is also filled with this template design. But what's to be gained from this in a Dark Souls game? Unlike contemporaries like Breath of the Wild, your verbs of interaction in these games are frighteningly limited, with almost all of the experience boiling down to fighting enemies, and without a variety of interactions, the lack of variety in the huge amounts of content stands out all the more. Does fighting the same boss over and over and traversing the same cave over and over make Souls better? Even if you choose to just ignore all of these parts of the Open World (which is far easier said than done, as due to a very harsh leveling curve and the scarcity of crucial weapon upgrade materials outside of The Mines, the game's design absolutely pushes towards you engaging in these repetitious activities), the Legacy Dungeons that comprise the game's bespoke content are functionally completely separate from the Open World, with not even your Horse permitted to enter. This is no Burnout: Paradise or Xenoblade Chronicles X, which retooled the core gameplay loop to one where the open world was absolutely core to the design: this is a series of middling Dark Souls levels scattered among an open world no different from games like Far Cry or Horizon: Zero Dawn that many Souls fans have historically looked down on, and the game is only worse for it.

NPC storylines in particular suffer massively, as the chances of you stumbling upon these characters, already often quite annoying in past games, are so low as to practically require a wiki if you want to see the end of multiple questlines. However, that assumes that you will want to see the end of these stories and that you are invested in this world, and I decidedly Was Not. Souls games have always had suspect things in them that have gone largely uninterrogated but Elden Ring really brings that ugliness to the surface, with rape being an annoyingly present aspect of the backstories of many characters, and even having multiple characters threaten to rape you, none of which is deployed in a way that is meaningful and is just insufferable edgelord fantasy writing, and the same could be said of the grimdark incest-laden backstory, the deeply suspect trans panic writing surrounding one of the characters, and the enthusiastic use of Fantasy Racism tropes in the form of the Demi-Humans. I remain convinced that George RR Martin's involvement in this game was little more than a cynical publicity stunt, but certainly the game's writing indulges in many of that man's worst excesses, whilst having almost none of his strengths.

None of this is to say that Elden Ring is devoid of enjoyment. While the fact that it did hit just in time for a manic-depressive mood that made me perfectly suited to play a game I could just mindlessly play for a couple of weeks, I did see it through to the end in that time, even if I did rush to the end after a certain point. From Software's artists remain some of the best in the industry, with some incredible environments and boss designs that deserve Olympic gold medals for how much heavy-lifting they're doing to keep the experience afloat. I loved being kidnapped by chests into other parts of the world, and I wish it happened more than a couple of front-loaded times. But the enjoyment I had in it never felt like stemmed from the open world, and even its highest points don't hang with the best bits of the prior installments. Stormveil is probably the level design highlight of the game but it already fades from my mind in comparison to the likes of Central Yharnam or the Undead Burg or the Dragon Shrine. Indeed, the fact that they exist as islands in an ocean of vacuous space between them precludes the so-called "Legacy Dungeons" of this game from having the satisfying loops and interconnections that are often the design highlights of prior entries. The bosses are a seriously uneven mixed bag as well; even setting aside the repetition, as the nasty trend of overturned bosses that started in Dark Souls III rears its unfortunate head again. The superboss Melania is an interesting design utterly ruined by her obscene damage output, and my personal highlight of the game, Starscourge Radagon, who is the only boss fight that felt like it played to the things that Elden Ring brought to the table, and is a moment among the series that the game can truly claim as it's very own...but the tuning of the fight prevented it from being the triumphant coming-together moment that it is clearly attempting for many of my friends, who left the fight feeling that it was just annoying and tedious. Modern From Software could never make a fight like Maiden Astrea again because they'd insist on making her really hard in a way that actively detracts from the emotional experience in the fight. Boss fights can be about more than just providing a challenge, and I think From has forgotten that.

Taken as a series of its legacy dungeons, of its finest moments, I think Elden Ring would only be a middling one of these games. The additions to the formula feel anemic and unbalanced, the multiplayer implementation is honestly a quite considerable step back from prior games (the decision to have the majority of invasions only occur during co-operation feels like an attempt to weed out trolls picking on weaker players but in reality what it does is make equal fights are next-to-impossible and put Seal-Clubbers in a place where they are the only players who can effectively invade, a completely baffling decision), but it's really the open world I keep coming back to as the reason this game doesn't work. Not only does it add nothing that wasn't already present in better ways in prior games, but it actively detracts from the experience. The promise of the Open World is one of discovery, of setting off in uncharted directions and finding something new, but do Open Worlds actually facilitate this any better than more linear games? I don't know if they do. I felt a sense of discovery and finding something in so many of these games, even the most linear ones, and felt it stronger because the game was able to use careful, meticulous level design to bring out those emotions. Walking out of a cave and seeing Irithyll of the Boreal Valley, or Dead Man's Wharf stretch out before me, were moments of genuine discovery, and they would not be improved if I found six more Dead Man's Wharfs throughout the game. Contrary to their promise, in my experience, the open world, rather than create a sense of discovery, undermine it due to the compromises necessary to create these worlds. All the openness does for your discoveries is let you approach them from a slightly different angle as everyone else.

That is, if you can even claim to have discovered anything in the first place. To call Elden Ring derivative of prior games in this milieu would be a gross understatement. I am far from the first person to note that the game's much-hyped worldbuilding is largely content to regurgitate Souls Tropes with the Proper Nouns replaced with much worse ones, but it goes beyond that - entire questlines, plot beats, character arcs, dungeon designs, enemies, and bosses are lifted wholesale from prior games practically verbatim. More often than not Elden Ring feels closer to a Greatest Hits album than a coherent piece in and of itself, a soulless and cynical repackaging of prior Souls Classics, irrevocably damaged by being torn from the original context from which they belonged. I'm not a fan of Dark Souls III, in part because it too is also a game that leans on repetition of prior games, but at the very least the game was about those repetitions, where yes, old areas and characters would be repeated, but at least it was thematically resonant with what the game was doing. Elden Ring can't even claim that. Whatever this shallow mess of a narrative, easily the worst of the franchise thus far by my reckoning, is going for, it is done no favors by being this stitched-together Frankenstein of Souls.

I was particularly shocked by the sheer ferocity with which the game steals from the fan-favorite Bloodborne. Quick, tell me if you've heard this one before: you encounter a hunched, bestial foe, who fights you with their fists, but once you get their health halfway down, the battle stops, a cutscene plays, where they speak coherently, summon a blade from their past, and stand with their former dignity restored, the music changes, and their name is revealed to be "X the Y Blade". Or what about a hub area, separated in its own liminal space from the rest of the map, that can be discovered in its True Form in the material world? What about when that hub area is wreathed in spectral flame and begins to burn as the final hours of the game is nigh? These are far from the only examples, as there are multiple enemies and ideas throughout the game that are shamelessly lifted from my personal favorite From Software effort, but these stand out as the most noxious of all, as they simply repeat beats that were effective in the game they originated from because the game was able to build to them and have them resonate with the rest of the experience. You cannot just graft things whole cloth from prior work onto a new one and expect it to work as a coherent piece, the very prospect is ridiculous.

When Elden Ring did all this, my jaw about hit the floor from the sheer unmitigated gall. When it chose to conclude itself with a straight-faced Moon Presence reference, complete with an arena that directly evokes the Hunter's Dream, I just had to laugh. The final statement the game made on itself, the bullet point it chose to put on the experience, was "Remember Bloodborne? That was good, wasn't it?" Because in many ways, that really was a perfect conclusion to this game.

While it would be a mistake to claim, as people seem increasingly eager to, that Souls emerged entirely out of the magical ocean that is Hidetaka Miyazaki's unparalleled genius or whatever, as these games have always drawn heavy inspiration from properties like Berserk, Book of the New Sun, and The Legend of Zelda, and were built on top of a framework clearly established by past Fromsoft series King's Field, the reason I think that myself and many others were initially enthralled by the promise of Demon's Souls or Dark Souls was because they were decidedly different. Their esoterica, willingness to buck modern design conventions and hugely evocative online elements were why these games set imaginations alight so strongly, and proved enormously influential for the past decade of game design.

Demon's Souls felt like something new. And while successive games in this series have felt far less fresh, none of them have felt as utterly exhausted as Elden Ring: a final statement from the designers and writers at From Software that they have officially Ran Out of Ideas, that the well has long gone dry, that all they can do is to hastily staple on the modern design trends they once rejected onto a formula that does not gel with them, and that they are wandering without life through a never-ending cycle of their own creation, branded by the Darksign. Perhaps it's no surprise that their least inventive, least consistent, and least creative game since Demon's Souls is also by far their most successful. Once From Software defied conventions and trends, and now, they are consumed by them.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You have died, and the Nexus has trapped your soul."

"You cannot escape the Nexus."

Act 3 feels a bit scuffed near the end but apart from that this game is almost flawless. I'm looking forward to spending another 80 hours playing it again.

Well, what was the point of all that?

I have been racking the question in my head occasionally for bordering on two months now.

There is enough "good stuff" in FFXVI to carry 5 different games on their own. The performances, especially Ben Starr's exceptional turn as clive, are pretty universally excellent. I like the characters, as dirtily done as basically any woman is by the plot. Soken's score is excellent and the sheer level of bombast in it's action scenes is top tier. It is in many ways, a game where a bunch of top-tier creatives are putting out their best work.

And I feel nothing!

Final Fantasy XVI might have a bunch of good shit in it, but it's overall creative direction is very poor. The first half of the game gets carried hard by being focused Clive, who is so brilliantly portrayed (and often, improvised) that when the focus of the game shifts to the larger scale conflicts, and some of the other good characters get less time, it just meanders around towards an eventual ending which might have been good had the back half of the game not just, completely failed to make compelling stakes and interweave this conflict with the characters at all well. This has been a problem with FF before - when the character focus basically departs from FF9's final disc the game limps to the line, for instance - but XVI feels like it has even less of a point and it's lull lasts the majority of the runtime.

This leads to the back half in particular becoming a game of awesome peaks - usually in the Eikon set pieces where it feels like all the talented people in development were actually on the same page - amid a sea of mediocrity, especially on retrospect. I am currently talking to a friend who's playing through FFX and even though it's not my favourite, seeing just a scant screenshot or two of "filler" scenes from Luca or Zanarkand, and I feel right there. With XVI it's been like a month and I had to google the name of the main antagonist of the second half, and that guy has like, a really obvious name too.

Another thing comes out of FFXVI in the end is how... careless it is, to put it nicely. The game's poor direction and failure to make it feel like it's trying to make a point or idk, be art, makes its borrowing of tropes from game of thrones feel all the more egregious. Carelessly throwing about implied sexual violence and its whole slavery thing without having, like, a point - at best it's just weird and uncomfortable and unneccessary, at worst its very suspect, lets just leave it at that. The game's treatment of women in particular ends up as an extremely bitter note that is probably a result of a piling up of uncocious biases rather than malice, but that's not good either!

This is to say nothing of the continually weak sidequests and questionable game structure, that it should have culled way more RPG elements, that its way too easy on the first run and more! But these are incidental problems in a game that just fails to make me feel anything when that was clearly what the intention was.

I love parts of XVI. I love Clive, Gav, Cid, Mid and Jill even if the game doesn't. I love the Eikon fights. I love the music. I can't love the game they're in, which in poor direction just wastes what good it's got.

It really should not be the case that Final Fantasy XVI, a game produced by a development team of legends with a nigh-infinite budget and all the time in the world should not be a legitimately more careless and harder to love game than Wanted: Dead, the follow up to devil's third where a lot of the creative decisions were made by an eccentric Swiss billionaire who has probably defrauded the russian state and really likes Stefanie Joosten. But here we are.

I like Final Fantasy games. I like JRPGs. I also like character action games. With this put together, the genre shift isn't a problem for me at all, so let's get that out of the way first.

No, my problem with this game is that it's just plain boring 90% of the time. I can't remember the last time I yawned so much playing a video game.

The story starts interesting and gradually becomes dull. It tries to be Game of Thrones but most of the world being shallow antagonistic NPCs that just hate you for existing does not make for interesting or nuanced developments when it's all you see.

The voice acting is great but I've also never been so uninterested to listen to dialogue? Much too verbose for what it needs to be.

The game looks amazing but that's kinda all it has -- flair; the level design takes a page out of FF14 where the open world is just there for the sake of being there and has absolutely nothing to offer. The eikon battles look great but are ultimately QTEs and cutscenes. The combat looks great but once you've styled on an enemy in hour 4 it effectively doesn't change for the rest of the game. Eikon abilities are surface level customisations and even then, half of them are received far too late.

Overall, if FF12 can be considered an offline FF11, this game can very much be considered an offline FF14; it has all of the same pros and flaws of how that game is presented but many of those pros no longer work here/cons are far more pronounced, this is not an MMO!

I really wanted to love this game, I was so excited for it, but started feeling pretty lukewarm on it by hour 15. I pushed as much as I could, to the point that I reached up to the last eikon, but I couldn't do it, I just had to give it up.

Youtube cutscene'd the rest so I know that I barely have much to do to complete the game, but I just can't do it, I just really do not want to play this game anymore.

I tortured myself for 40~ hours, here are all my problems:
-WAY TOO MANY CUTSCENES. MOST OF THE GAME IS A CUTSCENE. THIS ISN'T DEATH STRANDING.
- the combat is way too repetitive (sorry DMC fans) and it lacks any actual strategy
- the bosses were just way too easy, even on hard mode, and they were just HP dummies who i had to waste 5-15 mintues on.
- hard mode wasn't hard, it just felt like they gave the enemies more hit points
- the equipment and gear customization is way too bland
- the hideout areas/open areas are way too boring and just feel shitily put together
- there is no incentive for exploring.
- the characters are so underdeveloped (side point: a large part of the plot is legit just game of thrones)
- the story is actual dookie, with useless characters being brought up and killed, and villains who were never truly introduced being introduced out of nowhere
- deaths i feel no care for, like legit they just happen... like cmon now
- ending boss was wayyy too monotonous and boring, like the last 3-4 hours I just had to like resist not skipping the cutscenes.
- this feels like an average open world game from 2015... it's no longer 2015.
BRING BACK GOOD FINAL FANTASIES, THIS IS JUST MINDLESS COMBAT WITH A SHITTY STORY. THIS ISN'T WHAT I SPENT 70 DOLLARS FOR.

ok im editing this because I actually liked the cutscenes,,, like the fully CGI ones.

After a few light years of its tedious story, side quests, and one dimensional, dull characters, it has the decency to reward you with a boss fight. Which is easily the only thing worth experiencing about this game. The combats fine and all but it's just some watered down dmc goop with a ton of gaudy particle effects and cooldown timers. Without the cooldown moves Clives moveset is pathetic and you can't even do most of them airborne. This game sucks.

Amazing game that is maybe hampered down a little by some time-wasting here and there, on the part of the game.

Regardless, the story, characters, and that freaking job system really got to me and I had a blast for these 70 hours.

I'm fascinated by the existence of this game, it's like a dream I could only imagine. Not only is it one of the best games in the series with the best version of the classic combat system, an extraordinary OST and a great amount of content, but it's the first time I can share my favorite video game franchise with my brother, with whom I love playing two-player games.

Unlike DQ8 whose main novelty was to go back to the roots and present a vast world in full 3D, or DQ7, which was made with the purpose of being the culmination and the longest game of the classic era, instead, Dragon Quest IX takes the risk of recreating the same traditional formula, but for a handheld console and with the possibility of being played in full co-op.

The story is about us this time being guardian angels, serving for an organization of many angels called celestrians, who must protect mortals and their world. However, after an event we fall from heaven and we are restricted from our powers as angels and become almost normal humans. It will be our mission to help and solve the problems of different people in the world to finally reach the ultimate goal of the guardian angels, which is to leave humans in such a favorable state that makes the guardian angels are no longer needed and can retire and return to god.

The game follows the classic episodic structure of visiting a town with a small narrative arc each, passing the dungeon and moving on, and I like how the stories revolve around helping ghosts of people who died, but were trapped in that state for one reason or another. It sounds quite serious and different, but being Dragon Quest, in reality the story unfolds and has the same usual tone as all the previous games.

This time, instead of reiterating on what was established in DQ8 or DQ7, due to the multiplayer, the core of the game is taken back to the game that started it all and the best choice in this case: Dragon Quest III, therefore, the class system is similar to the one seen in that game. The members of our party are avatars without dialogues created by the player, and when we get the ship we will be free to choose the order in which we want to follow the story up to a certain point. Level-5 certainly modernized the classic DQ formula quite a bit, as there are many quality of life improvements, such as the select button menu where you can access a lot of useful information. Also, the game is easy and difficult at the same time, as you are given many options and items to overcome the battles, but it is up to the player to use them properly to overcome the battles, this game does not require grinding if you know what you are doing. The boss battles for example are difficult in the first half of the game, but I feel that the game in general is quite well balanced, since normally if you lose you just need to have a good planning and a solid strategy to win. This game also implements the points and skills system of DQ8 (which I will go into more detail later), and alchemy, which is greatly expanded in the amount of items to create and no longer requires waiting time or guides to get the most out of it (although you can always consult the internet and see some recipes).

The world to explore this time has a larger scale than previous 2D games in the series, trying to emulate a bit the large map that was seen in DQ8, although now it is much better executed because it benefits from placing materials for alchemy scattered around each area, that these materials reappear every time a certain time passes, so remembering their location is convenient if you want to get the most out of the item crafting system. Combat is the same as always, but now there are no more random battles, which was a necessary change for this specific game, because now with the expanded alchemy and secondary quests, it is a necessity to know which monsters we are going to face beforehand, not to mention that the multiplayer would work weird with random battles, but moving on to how the battles against monsters work, these are still the same turn-based battles as always, the mechanics of the "tension" of DQ8 is maintained, which basically allows us to prepare more robust spells or attacks while we have more accumulated, only now the way it is increased differs, because only our character has the ability to increase the tension, working only to increase it to our teammates and not applicable to ourselves, which adds more possibilities of strategies especially in multiplayer. Although the classic command to increase tension can be obtained later with the monk class.

One of the things I also really liked was how every piece of armor we equip is reflected in the look of the characters, giving a lot of customization for our characters by changing their looks in this way, and being impressive once again for a DS game. But what really adds a lot of customization is the fantastic class system that is unlocked at a certain point in the story. This class system doesn't work like in DQ6 or DQ7, instead it's a hybrid between DQ3's class system and DQ8's skill points. Basically, the level our character has is the level he has in the class he is in, so if we change to a new class we start again from level 1, although we can always return to the class we were previously in keeping the same level exactly as we left it. Each class increases our stats in a certain way as we advance in level and unlocks abilities that we can only use in that class, although increasing levels in a class will also grant us skill points, which we can dedicate to a skill, whether it is a weapon or secondary skills of the class. By dedicating a certain amount of skill points to a single branch, the abilities that are unlocked through this method are permanent, which is very useful. For example, if we unlock the ability to "steal" with skill points being in the thief class, we can use that ability in all the other classes, and the best thing is that these skill points are accumulative and usable even when the character changes class, which means that if we are interested in the skills that are available in a certain class but cost a lot of points, we can accumulate those points by leveling up in a class with little experience and then change class to spend them where we are interested in obtaining the ability. I really like the freedom and the many possibilities it gives us.

But well, let's move on to talk about what makes this release particularly special. DQIX is a rare product, it is today and it was in its time, I mean, a turn-based RPG as classic and old as Dragon Quest, multiplayer?, yep, well this one is, and to my surprise, it is quite well done, frankly surpasses the quality of any average Nintendo DS game or any attempt at multiplayer game of other renowned franchises that I've had the chance to try, very few compare to it, as usually the latter always lack a vital element. For example, Zelda Four Swords (or the much better Tri Force Heroes), are very well designed multiplayer experiences, but they lack the vital elements of a Zelda game by only focusing on dungeons. Another example would be New Super Mario Bros. 2, it has multiplayer, but it is so poorly implemented that it is best played single player. Lastly, Animal Crossing, a game that is focused solely on socializing and placing furniture, comparing the multiplayer of, not its DS version, but the Switch version, has a multiplayer so limited and with so many restrictions that I feel a bit sorry and pity.

Well not here, this game is a complete game and of the main series, which can be played in local multiplayer practically from start to finish, allowing player 2/3/4 to move in the world of player 1 with freedom and without too many restrictions, being the only moments where multiplayer is not available the introduction and another short moment at a specific point in the plot. At most the only central element where Dragon Quest IX falters is only in its story, which is a step backwards compared to previous games, but it always maintains the spirit, charm and minimum quality of any other installment, but it falters by being simpler than usual, although when you're getting to the end it really improves and introduces probably the best antagonist the series has ever had.

Another new feature that the game presents, and to adapt to the standards of a portable game, 2 optional additions are implemented that add a lot of content and are useful if you are not at home and want to reserve the main story to play it in a more private place, in other words, if you want something to pass the time or just want to make your character even stronger. The first is that there is now a treasure map system that allows us to explore optional dungeons and after finishing them we are given another map to access another optional dungeon, it's almost like infinite content. And the other thing is the secondary missions, which consist of challenges, such as fighting a certain number of battles in a specific way or delivering a difficult to get item. These side quests are also quite optional and doing them can be a bit challenging in some cases, I only recommend doing them if you really need the item you get when you complete them or you are playing the game to pass the time, although it is worth mentioning that there are 4 quests that unlock additional classes, so I recommend them if you like the customization of classes in RPGs.

Speaking of the music, it is without a doubt one of the best soundtracks Koichi Sugiyama has ever composed, really the quality is quite good, the town theme and the cave theme are themes that I adored listening to and have become my favorites of the series. The OST is in MIDI due to the capabilities of the system, though for some reason the instruments sound different than they did in the other DQ games out there on the DS, though that helps some of the songs sound a bit more "modern" like the cool battle theme. As for the main map theme, I thought it was a great touch how it changes when you play solo to when you play multiplayer.

I really liked the graphics, it's one of the best looking games on DS. The art style resembles that of DQ8 in terms of the environments. While with the characters, I like how even though they are too low-poly, they have expressions and movements that give them personality. The monsters are also animated in 3D and there are plenty of combat animations for both characters and monsters. However, the game suffers from a lot of slowdowns as you traverse the map because it really pushes the DS to the limit, so to lighten it up 2D sprites are used on many occasions. You can tell that the developers wanted to go a little further, but they couldn't because of the limited power of the system.

Finally, I will talk about the unfortunately inaccessible content. This content is currently locked, as to access it you had to connect to the Internet, giving us access to more side quests, final boss fights from all the previous games, and also a store of exclusive items that changed every so often. And another thing that is no longer available, is that if you met like 30 other people who also had a DS with DQ9, the main inn would level up and characters from previous DQ games would arrive as guests, who could give you a copy of their outfit as a reward. Pretty cool and impressive of Level-5 to include DLC in a DS game.

Conclusion
There is no doubt in my mind that Dragon Quest IX despite being a game with a simple structure, has so much attention to detail and many other subtleties that show it is masterfully designed to function both as a single player home game, and be perfectly fine as a typical handheld game, with multiplayer present in both cases. Very close to being my favorite DQ if it had had a stronger story, but I think it was a sacrifice that had to be made in order to make the multiplayer experience smoother.

Nowadays it can be seen as a shallow and ugly game, and I feel a bit sorry for it being overlooked in the community, but the truth is that this game is an exceptional title, I consider it to be the best playing DQ and I see it very difficult for a later game in this series to beat it in that aspect. When I mentioned that it is a dream come true, it is because I love playing 2 player games with my brother, and being able to share a game from a series that I love as much as Dragon Quest with him, has been one of the best things I have ever experienced. Undoubtedly a unique experience that no other title will be able to replicate.

This game is genuinely awful but Im glad I played it so I can use it as a litmus test

“And thus did our journey begin…”

You’re a wide-eyed, adventurous youth, that sees the world through a vision painted in vibrant hues of wonder. It’s your friend’s birthday, and the stars align as you, along with two others are going to spend the night at his home. The thrill is palpable because it’s the first time you’re spending the night at a friend’s place—a realm usually off-limits according to the unwritten rules of your mother’s parenting playbook.

You love video games. You always have. Some of your first memories are sitting in your father’s lap as he plays Sonic the Hedgehog and X-Men on the Sega Genesis. Just last year the universe smiled upon you, bestowing a Nintendo 64 and a Gameboy into your eager hands. It’s lead you on a path toward infatuation with the worlds of Pokémon and Super Mario. Yet, in this tapestry of nostalgia, a new thread weaves in—the enchanting notes of a little game named Ocarina of Time, your sole deviation from the familiar.

But back in the present, the birthday boy unveils something else that is unfamiliar to you—the PlayStation. Prior encounters were confined to store kiosks, but now, in the warm glow of your friend’s living room, the PlayStation becomes a symphony of novelty. He pulls out a plastic case, revealing a disc for a game he says is called “Final Fantasy VII”. You didn’t know games could come on CDs, nor have you ever heard of Final Fantasy. You have no idea what to expect as he snaps the game disc into the console, and it begins to whirr.

You’re instantly struck by the visual allure of this game. The painterly backgrounds, the lifelike character models, and the music, unlike anything you’ve ever heard in a video game, leave you utterly astonished. It’s more than just a game; it’s a portal to an undiscovered realm where moments of joy become indelibly etched onto the canvas of your memories.

Captivated, you and your friends take turns between playing and watching each other until the first light of dawn breaks. In those magical hours, not a single worry occupies your thoughts.


Final Fantasy is not merely a series; it has inexplicably become a part of my personal growth, evolving synchronously with my own journey–a steadfast companion that has consistently stood by my side, much like a trusted friend.

While not every attempt at evolution has been an unqualified success, the enduring truth remained—Final Fantasy retained its distinctive essence. It was still the person you knew.

Through shifts in tone, aesthetic, mechanics, and lore, there has always been a discernible throughline that defines the essence of Final Fantasy. This enduring thread of continuity is what fuels my excitement when contemplating the new horizons the series will explore and why I was anticipating its arrival on new hardware.

Much to my chagrin, Final Fantasy XVI has left me more disappointed than I could have ever imagined a game in the series could. That’s because XVI is a confused, over-embellished mess resulting in a work that seems to have strayed far from the core of what defines the series’ identity. While continuing the series’ ethos of reinvention and eschewing all of its RPG systems is not an inherently adverse decision, the execution is often abysmal.

That’s because now Final Fantasy is a bleary action game that lacks the mechanical depth or focus necessary to produce an enthralling action experience. While flashy and well-animated, the combat system is woefully straightforward and repetitive due to being restricted to a singular combo sequence heavily reliant on Eikon abilities kept primarily on cooldown for optimal damage output.

Ironically, this makes the gameplay feel much more like three Final Fantasy XIVs in a Dante costume than embodying the essence of a Devil May Cry game. With a low skill floor and ceiling, the game falls short of delivering a truly gratifying action experience that fosters individual player expression. As a consequence, nearly every combat encounter unfolds in a uniform manner, requiring little more from the player than the management of cooldown rotations.

The game exhibits a persistent inclination to rip control away from the player, particularly during crucial boss encounters. Rather than allowing players to get into a flow, it frequently interrupts the player’s agency to initiate cutscenes or quick-time events. Furthermore, for an action-centric game, it notably lacks in challenge; I managed to navigate through the entire game without dying once.

Moreover, while most action games typically span 8 to 12 hours and steadily introduce upgrades and new abilities, this game follows a different trajectory. It extends combat in the same monotonous combat patterns for prolonged stretches of 5 to 8 hours before infrequently introducing new abilities through Eikons, disrupting the expected pace of progression.

Speaking of pace, XVI is one of the most poorly-paced games I’ve ever played. It falls into a predictable pattern that is not unlike the main story in XIV since you’ll be undertaking 45-minute to one-hour missions that are primarily cutscenes (that often have admittedly high peaks of spectacle) before spending hours running around performing errands like picking up dirt or killing wolves.

This may have been fine on its own since side content often enriches the world and imparts a distinct essence to it. VII Remake masterfully achieved this, as its focus on the ordinary in side quests significantly contributed to the overall humanist experience.

For instance, an early side quest involves Clive delivering meals to the hideout’s residents, a task that recurs later in the game.

Ostensibly meant to underscore Clive’s character evolution and his growing connection with those around him, the lack of endearment in both Clive and these characters results in this endeavor feeling more like inconsequential padding.

It doesn’t help that the world of Valisthea is an uninteresting dark fantasy facsimile that lacks any defining traits other than series pastiche. Despite attempts to convey vastness across the continent, the game predominantly features diminutive, quaint villages, failing to offer the grandeur of bustling cities seen in earlier titles. While large, distant cities occasionally tease the horizon, these remain inaccessible, confined to linear story segments. This limitation is regrettable, considering the considerable effort invested in crafting detailed and visually appealing landscapes.

There were so many instances where I felt something akin to what I often felt playing XV: a sense of exploration driven by intrigue from the environment. I’d catch sight of captivating landmarks on the horizon, enticing mu curiosity. Occasionally, they might appear trivial, but sometimes they would end up being legitimately impressive dungeons. All of this takes place in a seamlessly interconnected world, encouraging and emphasizing the joy of exploration with your party.

XVI regrettably fails to offer any definitive fulfillment in this aspect. The world is a series of barren, disjointed hubs that could fit into a thimble and merely pad the game’s run time.

Even the set pieces and boss fights are mostly glorified cutscenes with player control taken away, often at multiple junctures during combat, to set up a quick time event. Most of the game is on autopilot, and combat often feels like a formality… a genuinely great decision for an action game.

The vestiges of RPG systems in XVI serve as little more than window dressing, only coming off as lip service to previous titles. While you can level up and acquire or craft weapons, their absence wouldn’t significantly impact the gaming experience. Weapons merely serve as objective upgrades, enhancing damage and stagger potential without introducing any elemental advantages or trade-offs for specialized performance. Consequently, this lack of depth fosters a sense of hesitancy and a lack of confidence in the game’s new direction, leaving XVI feeling muddled and uncertain in its approach.

XVI falls short in delivering an engrossing narrative. The storytelling unfolds as a sluggish, uneven journey that veers away from its core thematic elements midway. The intricate exploration of themes like slavery and bureaucracy? Abruptly abandoned in favor of a divergent quest to confront a divine entity.

This makes producer Naoki Yoshida’s statements about the lack of inclusion of non-white people humorous since the game gets quite ridiculous and rarely finds itself grounded in “reality”. Hence, the idea that brown people can’t exist in a fantasy setting with kaiju battles in space is worthy of all the ridicule it received. It’s also really funny how it tries to justify Clive’s family’s slave ownership because they were nice to their slaves.

Final Fantasy XVI is a shallow and hollow experience with nothing to offer besides production values. Everything exists in service of spectacle, and what we are left with is a game so obsessed with cinematic prestige that it is bereft of substance.

There are flashes of brilliance. In a different world, this game, with its combat and scope, could have been a somewhat solid open-world RPG. Or if the scope was reigned in and more complexity baked into the combat system, a solid, linear action game.

Also, for a game that seems to harbor such an active disdain for its legacy, the ending tries desperately to tug on nostalgia strings to evoke pathos. The result is a lazy, intellectually insulting narrative climax that is entirely unearned.

The Final Fantasy series has always made reinvention the point. If one game in the series was not your favorite flavor, the next installment could be. However, I do not think that will be the case moving forward. With this game being a critical and commercial success, coupled with bloated budgets and long gestation periods, I believe this is the direction we can expect the series to take. This is a problem because XVI sacrifices so much of the essence of Final Fantasy without leaving much left to take its place.

If that’s the case, I fear I might have to disembark from the journey, left with nostalgia for what once was, rather than anticipation for what might come.

You’re older now. The weight of the years makes it increasingly challenging to muster the fervor for pursuits that once ignited your passion. It feels like just yesterday you were eagerly tearing through the packaging of a pristine PlayStation 2, enveloped in sheer elation at the prospect of delving into the world of Final Fantasy X. Yet, paradoxically, those moments now seem shrouded in mist. The vivid tapestry of memories has gradually receded into indistinct relics, their vibrant hues fading into a subdued palette of somber grays.

The friends with whom you forged a foundational memory on the day of discovering a beloved video game series have become mere echoes in the corridors of distant recollection. Decades have elapsed since your last exchange, and thoughts of them now rarely arise.

In the intervening years, new friendships have blossomed, and others have withered away. The ebb and flow of companionship has charted a course that, much like your own journey, has gradually distanced you from the familiar shores of home. As the currents of time carry you further away, the recollection of those once-cherished moments becomes increasingly elusive, obscured by the passage of experiences and the ever-expanding horizon of your life.

Have the hues of enthusiasm faded into a more muted palette? Is this a natural evolution of the human spirit as it traverses the landscape of age? Acknowledging the inevitability of change, you recognize that transformation can often herald improvement, even carrying the potential for exciting developments.

A new Final Fantasy’s release is imminent, and the initial spark of excitement dims under the weight of tempered expectations. A new friend, attuned to the significance this series holds in your heart, surprises you with a fresh copy of Final Fantasy XVI, blissfully unaware of the skepticism clouding your anticipation. Embracing the notion that change can breathe life into the familiar, you decide to immerse yourself in the new chapter.

Yet, after a few hours of exploring this new realm, a sobering reality settles in. It resounds a contemplation that has resonated within you concerning existence itself. The experience leaves you pondering whether a subtle cynicism has woven its threads into the fabric of your once-unbridled optimism. Your journey through the corridor of time has left you with a reluctant acceptance of the present—it is what it is.


“…and thus did our journey end.”

As much as I'd like to complain that this is barely a Final Fantasy game, I'm wise enough to realise that it can't always be an ATB-spells-and-swords kind of affair every time - even so, this is well outside of it's wheelhouse and it shows in almost every facet.

First off, the game looks gorgeous - Square Enix have never had any problems getting good looking games out there, and it delivers in spades here. The animation and particle effects are spectacular, and watching some of the cut scenes you get to see a lot of this on display.

It's everything else where the cracks start to show - for a game that wants you to take it seriously as a political story around the subjugation of the Bearers, it's more than happy to veer off into ridiculous territory. The fights go full on shonen, which just flies in the face of the more grounded world and story and undoes a lot of the good it sows in the first few hours. The story is borderline nonsensical (though the voice acting is superb). the characterisation of anyone but Clive is...not good (this game in particular really seems to hate women, either killing them or giving them absolutely no urgency - Jill could have been such a good character!) and the ending just sort of happens after a strange lull? It's incredibly badly paced, and you get to see the pattern of the game very quickly (story beat, back to base for side quests, next story beat, back to base etc.). From such a good introduction to a grounded world and a more politically intriguing Final Fantasy, it lacks the courage to continue this and instead goes into full on pants-on-head stupidness.

Everything surrounding the main story are also subpar - side quests have taken their MMO-inspiration far too literally and are just boring delivery quests, or go-here-and-kill-this quests. When the game is trying to make growing an apple seem exciting, something has gone horribly wrong. The crafting system seems to have been stripped back, as there isn't one - you'll occasionally upgrade your sword, but all the crafting items picked up in the field or as rewards are largely meaningless as you can really only upgrade 3 items. The RPG side of this game is really lacking.

Which wouldn't be so bad if the world was fun to explore, as the time between story beats would be enjoyable. But it so actively discourages exploration of an incredibly drab and empty world that you shouldn't bother. When the field items are things like 5 gil or some common crafting materials, you will leave large swathes of the environment undiscovered - as it turns out that there's nothing even there to discover. On top of a main character that can't run on command, and a Chocobo which seems to actually be slower than running? A better movement system would help here.

If you played the demo, you'll know the combat system is a lot of fun and has the potential to stretch out into more fun areas - it has taken a lot of inspiration from things like Bayonetta, Dark Souls or Jedi: Fallen Order. Unfortunately, the combat system has no evolution like that aforementioned games, and once you've found a few Eikon moves you like you'll be doing the same thing every fight. Even the Stagger system is easy to unpick, and for most of my playthrough I would actively avoid fights as it wasn't fun to do the same thing over and over. It's not as if the game was overly difficult that this affected anything, anyway. The upgrade system falls by the wayside once you've found the 2-3 moves that get you through the game.

In terms of Eikon battles - ehhhhh. I seem to be against the grain here, but they are overly long and boring and didn't push any buttons for me. The Titan fight in particular just goes on and on for far too long, and the spectacle of them really just got old for me. You are looking at a full 30 minutes for one of these fights, and that was with me skipping the many cutscenes due to boredom. Bahamut is even worse, clocking in at a full hour - and worst of all, it flashes up that you've defeated Bahamut and the fight is over, then proceeds to continue into another Bahamut fight! That is not how things work! I found the Eikon fights overly flashy button mashers where the required amount of thinking or skill was minimal.

You can do a lot better for an action focused RPG (and the RPG side is paper thin here) for the ridiculous price of £70. The combat doesn't hold through the 30-40 hour runtime, the story goes all over the place and suffers for it, movement and controls are dire, there's barely anything to do outside of the main story quest - I could go on, but you'd be better placed picking up something else - The Witcher 3 does everything here 10x better and came out in 2015, which is ridiculous. The game sure is pretty, but that's about it.

     'Those great, beautiful ships, rocking silently on the calm waters, with their idle and wistful sails, are they not telling us in a silent language — when will we depart for happiness?'
     – Charles Baudelaire, Fusées, VIII, 1887 (personal translation).

One of the most difficult issues in fantasy studies is to define its contours and, by extension, its relationship to reality. In her seminal study, Fantasy: The literature of subversion (1981), Rosemary Jackson points out that fantasy violates the conventions and rules of our reality and: 'threatens to subvert rules and conventions taken to be normative [and] disturb "rules" of artistic representation and literature’s reproduction of the "real"' [1]. The capacity for deviation that speculative fiction offers is both an opportunity and a danger. Jackson points out that this subversive potential does not mean that fantasy or the fantastic are genres that always aim for social progressivism. In fact, the overwhelming majority of the pulp tradition was steeped in racist, homophobic and misogynist tropes that exerted a lasting influence on fiction throughout the late twentieth century and to this day.

     The misogynist issue in Western-style fantasy

Many authors hide behind these historical precedents to conceal a conservative discourse. The existence of multiple races allows for the perpetuation of social oppression, and while female characters have generally become more active in recent decades, they continue to fit into old-fashioned stereotypes [2]. The Final Fantasy series is part of this dynamic and has always oscillated between these major themes of fantasy fiction, notably by offering a regular comparison between magic and technological modernity, nature and industry, good and evil, humanity and divinity. These dichotomies are relatively common and allow the story to touch on issues such as capitalist exploitation and the use of natural resources. However, the representation of other topics remains disastrous: Final Fantasy XIV (2010) is especially characterised by deep-seated racism and sexism, the latter partially masked by the presence of strong female characters in positions of power.

It is hard to say whether these precautions were taken to appeal to a particular audience, but it is clear that Final Fantasy XVI ignores all these concerns and plunges into the most outrageous archaism, piling on misogynistic scenes wherever possible, supposedly justified by the harshness of European medieval society. Excuses of this kind obscure the real issues. The player follows the story of Clive Rosfield, drawn into a quest for revenge after the Phoenix Gate incident, which spells the end of the Duchy of Rosaria. Miraculously reunited with his childhood friend Jill Warrick, he joins Cid's group, determined to change the situation of the Bearers – magic-capable individuals enslaved across the continent. Final Fantasy XVI is therefore a tale of free will and independence, pitting the dark nature of the world against the purity of Cid and Clive's ideals.

To create this atmosphere, as well as the division between good and evil, the title makes extensive use of violence, sex and sexual violence as narrative drivers. Lenise Prater explains that Fiona McIntosh's Percheron trilogy (2005) constructs: 'a series of juxtapositions between good and evil [...] through the representation of sexual violence' [3]. The same processes are at work in Final Fantasy XVI, from the very first narrative arc of the adventure, where Benedikta is cast as the archetypal femme fatale, ready to use her body to manipulate her rivals: the character is constantly brought back to her status as a woman, and it is the threat of sexual violence that cements her development – Annabella is constructed in a similar way. Final Fantasy XVI revels in the dichotomy between whores and innocent virgins. Despite the Western aesthetic of the title, Jill is no more than a yamato nadeshiko who is constantly sidelined by the game. She mostly serves as a narrative device to advance the plot, through her multiple visits to the infirmary or because she is kidnapped by Clive's enemies. The title denies her any agency, and her nuanced fragility is only hinted at in a few sentences before being brushed aside: it takes almost thirty hours of gameplay before Clive explicitly asks her how she is, despite her constant concern for the protagonist's anxieties.

     A case for centrism and laissez-faire

This conservative portrayal is echoed in the discourse on the Bearers. The game is moderately critical of slavery on the continent and fails to make it a structural issue for Clive, who always remains somewhat detached from the problem. This issue is structurally embedded in the way the player interacts with the world, as they are extremely passive in relation to the events portrayed in the story. While the player is aware of the political manipulations taking place in Storm, they cannot act on them directly; Clive is blindly thrown into the fray and the situation is simply resolved in a battle that depoliticises the social stakes. Similarly, the Seals donated by certain NPCs guarantee Clive's reputation in the community in a highly artificial way, removing any roughness from the interactions. Clive fights to free the Bearers because he inherits this mission from his father and Cid, but this task seems disembodied throughout the game.

Beyond the main quest, the side quests are particularly lacklustre and do little to deepen the world-building. Because they can be accessed at any point in the game, Final Fantasy XVI chooses to exclude companions from them. They simply disappear from the cutscenes and thus have no chance to react to the world around them. Since the intention is to establish Clive as an ideologically good, open and self-governing character, all side quests are resolved by Clive's ideological concessions or miraculous unifications in the face of artificially created danger, without the slightest contradiction from any of the other main characters. Only in the final stretch does someone point out Clive's hypocrisy and domineering power over Jill, but the scene is quickly swept away by the return of Gav, the comic relief of the group.

Final Fantasy XVI is more concerned with shocking, melodramatic or cathartic platitudes than with radical denunciations of inequality and oppression. Worse, these shocking scenes do not even make the world dynamic, so poor is the structure of the narrative. Two problems stand out. Firstly, the interweaving of high-intensity sequences with slower passages: instead of building up the world through genuine slice-of-life sequences, the game multiplies banalities that the player has already understood for several dozen hours. The temporality of the story is also incoherent. Clive seems to cross the continent in a matter of hours, while his rivals remain completely passive. The confrontation between the Sanbreque Empire and the Dhalmekian Republic is characterised by irrational stagnation and passivity, allowing Clive to strike unhindered. The Twins always remain static, despite long ellipses in time.

     A hollow and meaningless experience

Perhaps Final Fantasy XVI should not be taken so literally, but rather accepted as the nekketsu it becomes in the second half of the game. Such an interpretation would be acceptable if the game did not take itself so seriously. However, as in Final Fantasy XIV, the writing wallows in a very uncomfortable theatrical heaviness – which the actors generally manage to save from disaster – as if clumsily mimicking the drama of Shakespeare's historical plays. However, Clive's disillusioned, self-deprecating, borderline comic character breaks up this fiction. Some characters work well, playing up their theatrical nature, such as Cid or Lord Byron, but they are quickly relegated to the background or an essentially comic role.

The shifts in tone and pacing detract from the development of the narrative, which cannot be saved by a few flashes of brilliance. The aetheric floods seem to have been imagined as a reflection of nuclear risks, highlighting the danger of Japan's post-Fukushima energy crutch, but in the end they are only used as a narrative expedient to create danger where the plot needs it. The pinnacle of dishonesty and disrespect for a title that centres its discourse on human free will lies in the choice of names for the NPC fillers. In the pure tradition of Final Fantasy XIV, they include puns and comical alliterations ('Broom-Bearer') that strip them of all substance and reduce them to ridicule. In the second half of the game, a little girl is introduced as a character of some narrative importance, but the title does not even bother to give her a name or address her living conditions.

Meanwhile, the action sequences prove to be particularly hollow. The choreography in the first few hours is quite ingenious, highlighting Clive's agility with complex movements and rather creative camera angles. As the title progresses, this aspect is abandoned in favour of fights that drag on and resort to nekketsu clichés. The duel against Titan lasts forty minutes and is a miserable succession of attacks around the stone tentacles. Final Fantasy XVI even has the audacity to end the battle not with the obvious cinematic climax, but with a dull and particularly unpleasant aerial sequence. Subsequent encounters also drag on for no apparent reason other than to demonstrate a genuine – if futile – mastery of the lightning engine.

     Ergonomics, gameplay and fluidity

While Final Fantasy XVI boasts detailed environments at first glance, the facade quickly cracks. The early areas are indeed highly detailed, to the point of drowning the player in detail – navigating through the thick vegetation is quite difficult, forcing the player to use Torgal to progress – but the quality deteriorates as the game progresses. The dense environments disappear in favour of vast open areas that struggle to convey the majesty of the world. Although the cities visible on the horizon are beautiful backdrops, they fail to radiate materially onto their surroundings, which then become mere abstractions. Moreover, Clive's movement is extremely sluggish: even getting on his chocobo is an unpleasant task that constantly interrupts the fluidity of the action, while the player is condemned to an extraordinary passivity in order to get from one place to another.

In the Hideaway, this impression is reinforced by Clive's inability to sprint: in the second half of the game, getting to the backyard is a gruelling chore. The magic of this cocoon quickly vanishes, as the various characters keep repeating themselves and are only mediocrely animated. Despite the detailed scenery, the game borrows all its animations from Final Fantasy XIV, giving a very artificial tone to the discussions. The Hideaway is less a place where the player can comfortably catch up with their favourite NPCs, and more a burdensome obligation to access NPCs, side quests and the hunt board – requiring the player to physically go there to see the location of elite monsters, a design mistake that even Final Fantasy XIV avoided.

The enjoyment of the combat system is left to the player and their experience of other character-action games, but it is absurd that the player has to wait at least twenty hours to finally be given a modicum of flexibility in their attack options: Final Fantasy XVI justifies its unique protagonist with a deep combat system that encourages the creation of diverse builds, but this philosophy is only appropriate in a New Game+ where all powers are unlocked from the start. In a first playthrough, the player must suffer from an impressive slowness, to the point where the Story Mode becomes an obvious option. The title here echoes the recent problem of Shadowbringers (2019) and especially Endwalker (2021), which first designs its battles with the Extreme and Savage versions, before cutting out the most difficult sections for the Normal versions – the result is a sense of incompleteness that is particularly damaging when combined with the very slowly evolving combat system.

It is difficult to place Final Fantasy XVI in the landscape of modern Japanese video games, so awkward is it in every way. With the title still in its cycle of artificial marketing in preparation for the DLCs, one can only speculate as to the reasons for these failings. Perhaps the lack of coherence can be explained by the fractured development team working on two major games, and the highly eclectic nature of the directors brought together by Naoki Yoshida. His design philosophy is particularly well suited to an MMO, but Final Fantasy XVI suffers greatly from it: the endless succession of side quests involving the Hideaway characters just before the final battle is incomprehensible, as if the game had remembered that it needed to conclude. Hiroshi Takai and Kazutoyo Maehiro's narrative vision is a series of shocking, empty, meaningless scenes: players of Heavensward (2015) had the opportunity to suffer from Ysayle's portrayal, and it is surprising that Final Fantasy XVI does even worse, a standard-bearer for passive misogyny in modern fantasy. That Jill's theme becomes 'My Star' and denies her any agency in the game's final moments is particularly painful and aptly sums up the title.

__________
[1] Rosemary Jackson, Fantasy: The literature of subversion, Routledge, London, 2005 [1981], p. 14.
[2] On the topic, see for example Peter Bebergal (ed.), Appendix N: The Eldritch Roots Of Dungeons & Dragons, Strange Attractor Press, London, 2021. In the afterword, Ann VanderMeer discusses the conservative roots of pulp fantasy and of the historical TTRPG.
[3] Lenise Prater, 'Monstrous Fantasies: Reinforcing Rape Culture in Fiona McIntosh's Fantasy Novels', in Hecate, vol. 39, no. 1-2, 2014.