Playing this on the back of completing Gaiden: The Man Who Erased His Name is probably not the optimum order to engage with the franchise, but having been forced to fill in the blanks required to recognise the poignancy of Kiryu's slow retirement, I knew it was finally time to understand the man and how he became not only the Dragon of Dojima but the Internet's best Daddy.
And while it didn't ask of me the same amount of waterworks Gaiden does, it manages to create one of the most emotionally captivating narratives I've ever played, whilst masterfully unravelling the mysteries across two different perspectives - something I've never seen achieved so confidently in a video game before.
Because this is a game of two halves, a coming-of-age of the Mad Dog of Shimano and the Dragon of Dojima. And I didn't realise or expect how invested or important Majima would be both to this game or to me personally.
Kiryu is his usual (as I've come to know him) self - stoic, proud, loyal, dignified. And these characteristics remain rewarding throughout the game - much like the Ichiban I fell in love with first, unable to turn his back on a friend or to abandon someone in need. But in this sense, Kiryu barely grows. Majima, on the other hand, was an unknown quantity to me, and getting to see this man suffer, grow, question himself and the principles he relies on, and ultimately evolve into the man he resembles in the original franchise entries was a captivating story even moreso than the mystery the two protagonists find themselves physically circling.
Mechanically, I don't even know if I play these games correctly - I cheese where possible and I rely on items to survive an encounter. But there's no denying these games manage to escalate the thrill of the fight as the game climaxes; the fighting is heavy, physical, and so are the bosses; and as you start to face bigger and bigger odds, and bigger and bigger foes, the weight of the player and character urgency is reflected in each punch. The more tired Kiryu and Majima get, the more tired I find myself, desperate to put down my fists whilst unable to pull myself away, climaxing in an euphoric sense of achievement when the game comes to close.
The biggest problem I had playing Yakuza 0 was of my own making - I sunk nearly half of my game time between Cabaret and Real Estate minigames, and only one of these I truly enjoyed, and by the time I started the story back up I blamed myself for having stopped, exhausted of time and effort.
But with what is ultimately a limited cast, I was invested in every inch. In supporting character deaths, in major character deaths, in sacrifice, in friendship, in circumstantial allies, in what it means to be a Yakuza. And while I played this game hoping to truly understand Kiryu, I left it realising this franchise is more than a person, it's a world so masterfully built and explored with characters so human and complex in a way that is agonisingly fresh to me - how did it take this long to fall in love with this franchise?
And while it didn't ask of me the same amount of waterworks Gaiden does, it manages to create one of the most emotionally captivating narratives I've ever played, whilst masterfully unravelling the mysteries across two different perspectives - something I've never seen achieved so confidently in a video game before.
Because this is a game of two halves, a coming-of-age of the Mad Dog of Shimano and the Dragon of Dojima. And I didn't realise or expect how invested or important Majima would be both to this game or to me personally.
Kiryu is his usual (as I've come to know him) self - stoic, proud, loyal, dignified. And these characteristics remain rewarding throughout the game - much like the Ichiban I fell in love with first, unable to turn his back on a friend or to abandon someone in need. But in this sense, Kiryu barely grows. Majima, on the other hand, was an unknown quantity to me, and getting to see this man suffer, grow, question himself and the principles he relies on, and ultimately evolve into the man he resembles in the original franchise entries was a captivating story even moreso than the mystery the two protagonists find themselves physically circling.
Mechanically, I don't even know if I play these games correctly - I cheese where possible and I rely on items to survive an encounter. But there's no denying these games manage to escalate the thrill of the fight as the game climaxes; the fighting is heavy, physical, and so are the bosses; and as you start to face bigger and bigger odds, and bigger and bigger foes, the weight of the player and character urgency is reflected in each punch. The more tired Kiryu and Majima get, the more tired I find myself, desperate to put down my fists whilst unable to pull myself away, climaxing in an euphoric sense of achievement when the game comes to close.
The biggest problem I had playing Yakuza 0 was of my own making - I sunk nearly half of my game time between Cabaret and Real Estate minigames, and only one of these I truly enjoyed, and by the time I started the story back up I blamed myself for having stopped, exhausted of time and effort.
But with what is ultimately a limited cast, I was invested in every inch. In supporting character deaths, in major character deaths, in sacrifice, in friendship, in circumstantial allies, in what it means to be a Yakuza. And while I played this game hoping to truly understand Kiryu, I left it realising this franchise is more than a person, it's a world so masterfully built and explored with characters so human and complex in a way that is agonisingly fresh to me - how did it take this long to fall in love with this franchise?
2 Comments
Doing the same mangled order as me I see! Yeah I did end up loving the combat, but I must admit the more I unlocked the more I never learned/mostly never used. Those trainings were mostly useless on me and I'd almost consistently rely on a Rush combo that seemed to take up good space. I was even worse for it on Gaiden. I think Kiwami onwards asks a lot more of the player so here's to hoping I get good!
greatsupper
2 months ago