When asked if this is my favorite game, I'll usually reply with an "Uh...I think so? Probably? One of them?". And it is, all of those things.
What keeps it at the top is not so much its slightly quirked-up RPG tropes---the rolling HP counter, items not stacking, recieveing accumulated money from your dad over the phone instead of right after a battle--for all of these do not add up to a "better" "RPG gameplay" experience than something like Final Fantasy VI or even a modern Persona. Figuratively, Earthbound is a JRPG with tank controls; it moves slowly and at times requires more-than-reasonable jumps in logic to progress or even do so in the most efficient way. It can be frustrating, and I can't blame anyone for wanting to put the game down after a few souring experiences with it. I love it, but I also have to admit that it's clunky and doesn't always hold up.
And yet, to me, the quirky world surrounding the quirk is how its identity rises into the cosmos to a league of its own. Its tethering to real world, 90s-era Americana is unfailingly charming, and the charm is expounded upon with each strange little encounter with a walking mushroom, a cultist, miniature UFO or wayward hippie. By itself the setting doesn't come across as fantastical as a Dragon Quest or any number of steampunk-medieval mashups from releases of its time, but the magic comes from the contrast of hanging out in a cozy small town and the alien oddities just outside it. If we're truly role-playing, it's the only game where I can say "my friends and I ate burgers at the mall before we fell into a nearby cave and walked with live dinosaurs in a prehistoric world". Or perhaps I can say "we explored behind a watefall and discovered a village of aliens with whiskers and bowties before sitting down and reflecting on life over a cup of coffee". This particular flavor of imagination is amongst my favorites.
This game reminded me how much magic there is in our day to day lives if we care to stop for a moment and read between the lines, which coincidentally is why I now use a Hobonichi planner made by the same creator. I'll probably play it several more times whenever I'm feeling a little lost in life. And I'll call my Mother.
What keeps it at the top is not so much its slightly quirked-up RPG tropes---the rolling HP counter, items not stacking, recieveing accumulated money from your dad over the phone instead of right after a battle--for all of these do not add up to a "better" "RPG gameplay" experience than something like Final Fantasy VI or even a modern Persona. Figuratively, Earthbound is a JRPG with tank controls; it moves slowly and at times requires more-than-reasonable jumps in logic to progress or even do so in the most efficient way. It can be frustrating, and I can't blame anyone for wanting to put the game down after a few souring experiences with it. I love it, but I also have to admit that it's clunky and doesn't always hold up.
And yet, to me, the quirky world surrounding the quirk is how its identity rises into the cosmos to a league of its own. Its tethering to real world, 90s-era Americana is unfailingly charming, and the charm is expounded upon with each strange little encounter with a walking mushroom, a cultist, miniature UFO or wayward hippie. By itself the setting doesn't come across as fantastical as a Dragon Quest or any number of steampunk-medieval mashups from releases of its time, but the magic comes from the contrast of hanging out in a cozy small town and the alien oddities just outside it. If we're truly role-playing, it's the only game where I can say "my friends and I ate burgers at the mall before we fell into a nearby cave and walked with live dinosaurs in a prehistoric world". Or perhaps I can say "we explored behind a watefall and discovered a village of aliens with whiskers and bowties before sitting down and reflecting on life over a cup of coffee". This particular flavor of imagination is amongst my favorites.
This game reminded me how much magic there is in our day to day lives if we care to stop for a moment and read between the lines, which coincidentally is why I now use a Hobonichi planner made by the same creator. I'll probably play it several more times whenever I'm feeling a little lost in life. And I'll call my Mother.