There is no wrong way to experience Persona 3 - my beloved, my dearest, my all-time favorite work of fiction, favorite piece of media, and most relevant to this conversation my favorite video game. However, I think you could also do a lot better than Portable.

Persona 3 Portable is, in many ways, a superior game to Persona 3 FES. The combat mechanics have been refined and modeled off the success of Persona 4's battle system. The GUI and spritework has been touched up to be more appealing to the eye and (once again) appear more consistent with Persona 4's. The introduction of the female protagonist and her route's more chipper, upbeat tone when compared to the male protagonist's is much more palatable to the average viewer – for a third time, much in line with that of Persona 4. The female protagonist even has a new soundtrack heavily influenced by J-Pop, to contrast against the male protagonist's trip-hop and electronic backdrop.

And frankly, I think all of it works against the unique cohesion and artistic perfection that Persona 3 FES manages to achieve. On individual merits alone Persona 3 is not a terribly remarkable game; there are games that came before and after it that soar far above it in sheer fun factor, quality of narrative, depth of writing, graphical achievements and style – but Persona 3 stands out from any other video game I've ever played by merit of how all of these pieces interplay to form a uniquely coherent and interlocked game experience.

The protagonist of Persona 3 is characterized as near-silent, emotionless, withdrawn and disinterested. This ties into the game's cold and oppressive atmosphere (which ties into the grungy and low-fidelity production values most evident in the GUI and graphics), but also reflects his character trait of being fascinated with music ( that the original soundtrack is designed around, with certain leitmotifs being used at specific points to establish themes and perpetuate the game's recurring imagery of cycles). This characteristic disinterest is also the basis of the game's controversial "tactics" system, which in itself ties into the social link mechanic as an extension of how the members of SEES are individuals before they're pawns in a battle field, and rounds right back around to the theme of understanding and opening up to others.

Most of these things are absent outright in Persona 3 Portable by merit of either the protagonist being changed or the mechanics and graphics being shuffled around into an end product that only vaguely resembles the original release and lacks the unique cohesion that I find to be synonymous with the experience of Persona 3. There's really too many details for me to list off individually about what's changed and why I think it lessens the experience, considering I'm rambling from memory more than anything, but you get the idea.

Additionally, while I think the female protagonist is a fine character in her own right and there's valuable insight into an alternate perspective of the game's themes in her route and character development, I don't think that it was a good idea to put her into a story so purpose-built around the male protagonist and make so little changes to accommodate her. She gets new social links, sure, and a few cutscenes change, but there are aspects of the story (symbolism, writing, character dynamics and relationships, and even the entire design and concept behind a late-game character that I won't spoil here) that Atlus simply did not pay enough attention to during development to change in a way that would be as impactful or tightly-wound as it would with the male protagonist.

Again: it's my genuine perspective that Persona 3 Portable exists first and foremost as a means to market Persona 3 in a format more easily digested by those who are used to Persona 4, which I personally believe to be a far inferior work of art and a far inferior game.

And that's fine. Persona 3 Portable is still an excellent game, and if you go into it as your first experience with Persona 3 and need to hear its message, then it's very likely that it'll touch you very deeply and profoundly just as much as if you were playing the original release. Some people prefer the stark shifts in tone of the female protagonist or find her more bubbly and extroverted personality more relatable, which is wholly understandable considering that the male protagonist has a very unusual and understated personality defined by a rough, eerie exterior. Some people might emphasize raw fun over ludonarrative or not find the grimy aesthetic of the original release as charming as so many do.

Again, all of that's fine. No matter its form, Persona 3 is my favorite-ever game and favorite-ever piece of media, and likely always will be. But in my heart, Persona 3 FES will always be the definitive experience and the most unusually remarkable piece of media that you can get your hands on in the medium of JRPGs.

Terrible appropriative studio copying other artists' work and claiming it as their own while wildly misinterpreting the meaning of its inspirations.
To further my anger towards this game, it does a poor, even harmful job at portraying mental illness, so far as to demonize victims of depression and anxiety as though they're "unfixable," and their demons are an inconvenience and impediment to those around them.
The emotional intellect is completely missing, and the storytelling is amateurish and immature, blatantly favoring style over actual substance and subliminality.

The fact that YIIK and Christine Love games are shilled in VA-11 Hall-A at the behest of the publisher would nominally be a terrible flaw in any other game, but in VA-11's case as a very tongue-in-cheek but incredibly sincere look at what it's like to be an everyday civilian in a cyberpunk dystopia, there's something brutally and morbidly real about this love-letter to cyberpunk's heart and soul being tainted by being forced to promote artistically hollow products.

VA-11 Hall-A is a game about knowing where home is, and how important that is in a cruel and violent world. "Comfy" is a word that gets thrown around a lot to describe it (including in the game itself, before a playthrough!) and in more ways than one there's not a better way to describe it.

This review is largely outdated and doesn't wholly reflect my views on Persona 3 anymore, namely in the fact that Persona 3 is no longer my favorite game. Still, people seem to like it, and so it remains for posterity's sake.

My favorite game of all time – what makes Persona 3 truly special isn't its individual qualities but how they interplay and work together as a whole. There are games that surpass Persona 3's merits one by one, but as a single cohesive work of art there truly isn't anything else like it.

Persona 3 has the sort of message that's meant to be heard by certain people – coming hot off the dating sim and visual novel craze of the early 2000s and deconstructing some of their greatest cliches while also embracing exactly what makes them appealing to so many people, Persona 3's narrative and its protagonist's story of opening up to the world around him and embracing life while it lasts is incredibly resonant and continues to mean the world to me and many others some fifteen years on.

If you're looking for a mechanically tight JRPG experience you might best look elsewhere, as Persona 3 isn't a game that intends to impress by gameplay alone. However, if you want a JRPG that makes the most of its mechanical quirks to help convey its message and portrays a theme of hope and determination against a bleak cyberpunk backdrop, then this game is definitely worth its 80+ hour runtime.

EDIT: Per request I've elucidated a little bit on two of the major points of this review in the comments below.

One of my favorite games ever! It's definitely very different from most FF games, but honestly that's exactly what makes it so charming. Squall and Rinoa's story and the way this game presents it is exactly what makes it great, but i can totally understand how that's not for everyone. I think Squall and Rinoa are some of the best fictional characters out there, but the game does focus on them for 95% of the time, so if you're having a hard time connecting with them, chances are you won't like it. If you do enjoy them though, you're in for a treat. Incredibly cathartic experience for me through how much i was able to understand Squall's perspective, and the way he grows through the game is phenomenal. Loved it.

While I cannot in good conscience call it perfect, or even the best Final Fantasy game, Final Fantasy VIII is indeed a contender for my favorite video game. It is an acquired taste, but should you be a part of the very specific audience that it is aimed at, then there truly is nothing else like it.

FFVIII is best described as abstract: it doesn’t have as solidly defined a setting as some of its contemporaries, its gameplay is much more open-ended and left up to the player’s discretion in terms of strategy, the narrative is loose at best, and its themes and message are an odd hodgepodge of several interconnected ideas and theories rather than a single, concrete point. What FFVIII does have to offer is raw feeling, a poignance about its atmosphere and what it conveys with its storytelling that resonates profoundly if you’re willing to play by its rules (or are naturally dispositioned towards some of its ideas to begin with).

The plot, on paper, is simple enough: in a colorful high-Fantasy-turned-science fiction setting, we follow Squall Leonhart, a child soldier turned mercenary who has little ambition or purpose in life other than to become a competent, respected SeeD (for-profit mercenary). When a mission he and his team are hired for goes awry, Squall finds himself in the midst of a global conspiracy involving an ongoing global war and a mysterious, maleficent sorceress at the helm of it all. Most of the story involves Squall’s struggle to understand and accept his role in the global crisis as well as understand himself, and his growing bond with secondary protagonist Rinoa Heartilly (a member of a resistance sect poised against the ruthless imperialist nation of Galbadia).

From there... things get weird.

The plot is compelling in its own right and features a few fun (if not sometimes contrived or predictable) plot twists, but ultimately takes a backseat to the purpose it serves: establishing, developing and growing Squall and Rinoa’s characters. While plot events often have substantial narrative weight, most of what you’ll gleam from them (and want to look for) is what they tell you about the characters and the insight into their psyches. FFVIII addresses a great variety of topics that all interlink together in a tight-wound web of themes, ranging from trauma to war to time to family, all of which reflect heavily on the characters’ emotional development and personalities. Character writing is truly where FFVIII shines, and the little pieces of interaction between the cast are what will stick with you more than the bombastic action sequences. It’s a rare feat for a simple conversation or flashback to be more memorable than a fully-animated FMV sequence, but these small moments of interaction and connection are what I find myself thinking about the most often and remembering the most fondly.

Beyond our two protagonists, FFVIII has a somewhat small but lovable and memorable cast, set aside from most other Final Fantasy titles in that they’re mostly believable everyday people. As such, their characters are often not as complex or layered as the series makes a habit out of committing to, but FFVIII manages to make simplicity work in the most endearing of ways: some of the game’s most charming and enduring characters are the Momma’s-boy Zell Dincht who lives at home with his mother and has a passion for mixed martial arts, the smug and conceited teacher Quistis Trepe who acts as Squall’s mentor, and the cocky country-boy Irvine Kinneas who transfers to Squall’s team as a sharpshooter. Some of these characters transcend the convention one might associate with their description, while others embody them so wholly and blatantly that they become brilliant. FFVIII’s cast might hold hidden depths, or they might really be genuine with who they are and exemplify it to the fullest.

FFVIII’s gameplay is a controversial topic, and most often why people disparage the game if not for a dislike of Squall’s distant personality. This is understandable: it’s quite intricate and unconventional, and rarely does the game do a good job of explaining how to use it to the fullest. FFVIII retires the JRPG standard of mana meters and spell learning in favor of magic being dispensable items that can either be used in combat, or equipped (“junctioned” in game terms) to the player’s stats rather than armor or accessories, replacing level grinding as the proper method to grow characters’ stats. Said magic can be refined from cards won in the game’s Triple Triad minigame (the most efficient way of earning magic, despite the game never clarifying this) or “drawn” from enemies during combat as well as specific points in the world map. Junctioning is performed via Guardian Forces, equippable summons that each carry unique abilities and characteristics of their own. It’s true that FFVIII’s complex systems can be overwhelming and disorienting for those used to a conventional JRPG experience, but if learned and understood the amount of customization and optimization is unparalleled especially for the time period. Even if the story and characters don’t appeal to you, if you have any investment in JRPG gameplay for the sake of gameplay then it doesn’t get better than FFVIII’s complex statistic management systems.

Finally... the music. It’s incredible, one of my favorites in any game, and is worked into the storytelling in a very unique way. The scenes which take place in the present day have a sweeping, fully-orchestrated sound whereas those that take place in flashbacks to the distant past have a high-tech futuristic sound, a fun inversion of the standard one might expect from or associate with conventions of the genres.

With all of this being said: FFVIII is a unique game that caters to a very specific audience, and it banks entirely on whether or not you “get it.” If you do, you do, and if you don’t, you don’t. It’s very possible it may not simply be for you, but the best way to find out is to jump in with an open mind (and a willingness to lead the game’s systems!).

For me...? It means more to me personally than I can say, and I can only hope you’ll find as much in it as I have.

Every review website is prone to blatant amounts of hyperbole and grandiose, all-encompassing statements made by people who completely lack the necessary foresight and experience to make them.

I'm about to use my one free pass for such statements here: Chrono Cross is the best JRPG of all time. Hell, it's probably the best sequel of all time. Play Chrono Trigger first, and then go into Chrono Cross without any pretenses of what a Chrono game should be that you may have picked up from others' opinions, or whether or not this is "truly" a sequel to Trigger.

Radical Dreamers (released in 1996 for the SNES via Satellavision) is a mandatory companion piece and sister story (specifically for the sake of understanding Kid, the deuteragonist of Cross), but best saved for after playing Cross despite having been released earlier.