This sure was a trip.

It starts off as a card game with roguelike elements, with an eerie and fascinating atmosphere. This is what is shown in all the promotional material for the game, and is by far the best part of the game. The card mechanics are well thought out, and they are introduced in a digestible manner. After a few runs of hardship and defeats, you learn all the ins and outs, and you are more than capable of constructing a decent deck. On every death, you also get an opportunity to design a card (an OP card, if you're smart about it), which you can then find in subsequent runs.

You play against a creepy, all-knowing being, who acts sort of like a DnD dungeon master. The atmosphere is thick, creepy, visceral. Your "damage points" are teeth that get put on an old-fashioned scale that determines who is winning each match, you get the opportunity to pull out one of your own teeth to tip the scale in your advantage, you have to sacrifice your weaker cards in order to play stronger ones, while your soon-to-be sacrificial victims quiver in fear. This is brilliant!

On top of that, you are free to leave the game board and walk around this being's cabin, that has some puzzles (old-school resident evil-like puzzles) sprinkled around. These puzzles give you new cards and clues on how to escape the "prison" of the game loop.

Then you finally do, and defeat the boss. Had the game stopped here, it would have been a nice, polished gem of a game.

Unfortunately it doesn't end here. After this point, the game goes meta. I can't say too much without spoiling, but just know that there is much more to this game than just this first part. And the rest of the game is nowhere near as fun and balanced. Card combat starts to feel like a afterthought, and difficulty plummets to almost zero.

Partly, this is intentional (at least, I assume). You are more compelled to get to the bottom of the great mistery behind the game, so difficult and engaging combat would probably feel like a drag. But, counter-intuitively, this "second part" is also where the game dumps a boatload of new, imbalanced and half-baked card mechanics, that you can basically just ignore as you steamroll your enemy.

I was pretty engaged by the overarching "big intrigue" that permeates the whole game, with the exception of a few parts where I felt that the game tries too much to be clever and "meta".

Had difficulty and mechanics remained consistent throughout the experience, I would have adored this game. As it stands, it still gets a good grade for its incredible ideas and narrative, that are unfortunately held back by questionable game design decisions in the second half.

If you like metacommentary, card gaming, and creepypastas, this is the game for you!

After playing this for a couple of hours (and completing numerous stages) I feel I have a bit of a grasp on what this game is and my thoughts on it.

From a glance, Gungrave G.O.R.E. looked appealing. The animations, both in gameplay and in cutscenes are flashy and kinda cool. It's based off of an anime (though I know it from the PS2 games) and it's available on Game Pass. I figured why not jump in.

This fits right in with games from the PS2 era with a better looking coat of paint, and to be completely honest, if I had this on my shelf when I was a kid I probably would've played it to completion. The reason I don't wanna see it through to the end now is my bar of quality is higher now than it was then and I have far too many other things I want to play.

Shooting is not very satisfying. You fire in bursts of four shots, so if you want to shoot continuously you have to keep mashing that trigger and it's not ideal. Aiming is also not ideal. You don't use the left trigger (or L2) to aim, but instead the LB (or L1) to both lock on and move the cursor which doesn't feel modern. Otherwise, the cursor comes up on the screen as you shoot. If the player was allowed free reign of the camera and a smoother aiming experience, the game would be a little better for it.

There's little to no engagement with its environments (some things you can shoot, but that's it) and it becomes repetitive, same with the enemy designs. The melee is a bit slow and clunky but has its moments. You have a chain that acts as a bit of a grappling hook in combat that can result in some satisfying kills. But any satisfaction you get from killing hundreds of enemies per stage wears off after a few of them once you realize that's all the game has to offer.

It's arcade-y, with short stages that tally up a score and hordes of enemies and it makes me feel that maybe this would've been better suited for a cabinet with a gun-con.

I don't think it's an awful game, I just think it's a bit hollow and has outdated controls and shooting mechanics. I wouldn't recommend it, but hey, it's on Game Pass if you wanna try it out.

Before playing FFXII I didn't quite understand why it was so overlooked and underdiscussed in Final Fantasy circles, especially considering the fact that it released to widespread critical acclaim and success upon release. Now that I've gone through it I get it: it's something of an odd man out and an outlier within the Final Fantasy franchise, as its more down-to-earth tonal qualities and emphasis on lore, politics and worldbuilding over character-focused writing make it the polar opposite of what many people think of when they think Final Fantasy.

My favorite being FFVIII (which has a similar "outlier" status and parked in the exact same extreme as XII, if not in the complete opposite direction) I completely understand its "cult classic" status, and there's certainly a lot to appreciate here if you want a JRPG with storytelling that more directly reflects real-life historical conflicts and politics. It personally didn't hit the mark for me, although there's a lot about it that I appreciate – particularly how much I realize that FFXIV took from XII, and in turn re-introduced a bit of Final Fantasy's trademark flair, charm and whimsy to make it a little more palatable and recognizable as a Final Fantasy game.

The plotline being frequently compared to Star Wars is not without basis, nor is the critique of Vaan as a protagonist that doesn't really "fit" – to me Balthier's constant referring to himself as a protagonist felt like a tongue-in-cheek allusion to the fact that Vaan and Penelo were arbitrary additions to the story to appeal to the series' traditional core demographic. Really, Fran and Balthier were the only characters I managed to truly get invested in and regard with the same living, breathing quality one expects out of a Final Fantasy game, as most of the rest of the main cast felt more like tools by which the game explores its lore and plot.

Some of the best gameplay in the series, though – again, like FFVIII it prioritizes player freedom and customization above all else (between the Gambits, Job System, License Board and equipment optimization you could likely spend hours optimizing a single character) which fits in neatly with the game's open-world nature and heavy emphasis on sidequests.

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.

One day I'll go back and finish this, but in the meantime: "complex" doesn't equal "good" and there's only so much sitting around waiting to get to the point that I can do before I begin to get frustrated and lose interest.

I don't like visual novels and I don't care for mystery stories, so it may just be that this game simply isn't for me – a shame, because I really like the idea of it. The visual style is great and I'm a huge fan of the RTS gameplay, much as I don't care for the exploration gameplay.

There is a truly perfect game in here, somewhere within the knots and tangles of its narrative presentation - but alas, it exists in its current state as simply a very good one.

Still, I'm not going to complain about playing a great game! I think a lot of the critiques of FFXIII are more-or-less misguided, as I ended up either having no problems at all with or actively loving the parts that everybody complains about - namely the codex and the combat system. The codex means you have to stop every few hours to stop and read about the world, which isn't a problem to me because the world is so interesting. The gameplay is probably the best in the mainline Final Fantasy series (having finally perfected the ATB system after nearly two decades!) and is refreshingly hard, a surprise in a series known for being pretty easy to breeze through.

With this being said: there aren't many problems with FFXIII, but one of them is big enough to seriously dilute the experience. You hear a lot of people complain about the linearity but that really isn't the problem - the problem is that in a game so linear it still manages to have really poor pacing that simultaneously feels too slow and too fast. FFXIII is nothing without its characters and their internal conflicts, which are very well written and mesh with one another in a way that is perfect for the kind of story FFXIII is trying to tell. Problem is that the characters are exposited and fleshed out in a really rapid-fire way with so little downtime that all character development feels very abrupt and lacking in weight - it's more or less one dramatic scene and huge character moment after another, and as characters progress through their varying states of being it feels like you never get to really know who they are before you meet who they're becoming. Couple that with all of the actual plot developments and crucial world information being saved for the last five-or-so hours of the game and you have a story that feels rushed and way too slow at the same time - all of this only weighed down more heavily by bizarre and inexplicable difficulty spikes that leave you lingering further on moments that already overstay their welcome.

Even so, FFXIII is just a marvelous game to sit and exist in. The dual settings of Coccoon and Pulse are every bit as lively as they are beautiful - this is by far the prettiest game I've ever played both in terms of art direction and graphical fidelity, which is impressive considering this game came out in 2009 - and the atmosphere is bolstered even further by the phenomenal soundtrack. As poorly paced as the characters' personal arcs are, they're still extremely well-written on the whole and are all charming, likeable and memorable, with some seriously gripping character dynamics and relationships. Even when the writing's own convolution fails it, the Big Moments are delivered with a palpable heart-and-soul that I've only been really able to find in Final Fantasy games developed with Yoshinori Kitase and his usual posse at the helm. There were several moments in FFXIII that made me stop and remember why Final Fantasy is my favorite series, having been immersed in an intangible feeling you can really only get from this series (and Kitase's games in particular).

With themes, ideas, and characters this tight - as well as a near-perfect combat system - I imagine that with time the mess of FFXIII's presentation will long be overshadowed by the finesse of its actual substance in my mind, and that I'll only grow more and more fond of it as the years pass by.

had a similar experience as ffxii in that no matter how dense, well-written and ideologically sound a game's themes and messages may be, i have a hard time getting invested enough in them to care if i'm not interested in the characters, setting or writing. with ffxii i was at least extremely invested in fran and balthier and charmed by the refreshing mediterranean/middle eastern/south asian setting of dalmasca, but i didn't feel any of that about tactics or its particular portrayal of ivalice.

i think it's really that i honestly just don't care for medieval fantasy