There are a lot of things to complain about this game. The weird difficulty spikes, the slow menus, the lack of diverse gameplay systems. But shallow? Opoona is anything but.
Opoona, at least in its first arc, is a game that explores what it means to be a citizen. Its society lies somewhere between utopian - due to how many systems are in place to ensure you have an intuitive time getting through your quotas - and dystopian, for arguably the same reason. All of your worth as a citizen of the domes is determined by the work you can do. Your primary job is chosen for you against your will, and there are certain careers that are forbidden to you due to you being a foreigner to the planet Landroll. There are numerous NPCs stuck in airports or outside of the city because they have lost their ID, or simply never allowed to have one. You are lucky to be from a "nicer planet", they tell you, while at the same time patronizing and excluding you if your existence is not deemed profitable enough at that place and time.
Yet, the world is not bleak. At least not to you. You are allowed an ID, multiple job opportunities, places to rest, a couple free meals and a variety of friends. The domes, while sometimes labyrinthine and cold, have a certain beauty to their architecture and how well things flow. The right symbol always leads to the right place. The counters are always in the same order. Every process has the same steps to completion. The fact that most gameplay mechanics are either menu, single button presses or reskins of the battle system might be a sign of the game's lack of "depth" to some, but to me it's simply an extension of the way the game represents the highly bureaucratic Landroll society.
I chose to acquire the license for (and progress through a good amount of) every side job. This game can be quite easy if you spend a couple of extra minutes grinding, so the extra money wasn't necessary. But it made me feel like I was contributing something to someone. Janitors in Landroll are held in high praise for their skills, and rightfully so. Art is a vital part of society, even though it's highly commodified and treated like a product of a job quota instead of an expression of the self. People are given jobs that are adequate for their specific needs, so everyone can contribute no matter what their physical or mental capacity is.
When you do go outside of the domed portion of society in the game's second arc, you really start to notice the faults of the system. Even without the influence of the Dark Force, it is a system that hates outsiders and people they can't exploit to their full capacity. The game becomes a sort of Dragon Quest-like narrative at this point (ArtePiazza worked on handful of those, so it makes sense that they nailed that feeling very well), but I care so much about the world by that point that I actively want to save it, because I care about the people in it. There is a beautiful world outside of the domes (really, the graphics in this game are actually really good), and I want to make sure the people living out there are also safe and cared for as much as they care for each other.
I can't really call this a utopia, but I wouldn't call it a dystopia either. It's a society that values convenience above humanity, and yet humanity still manages to shine through. You may be forced to work a dumb job you didn't ask for until society deems you have no more purpose, but at least you get free breakfast and an opportunity to bond with your friends over it.
Opoona, at least in its first arc, is a game that explores what it means to be a citizen. Its society lies somewhere between utopian - due to how many systems are in place to ensure you have an intuitive time getting through your quotas - and dystopian, for arguably the same reason. All of your worth as a citizen of the domes is determined by the work you can do. Your primary job is chosen for you against your will, and there are certain careers that are forbidden to you due to you being a foreigner to the planet Landroll. There are numerous NPCs stuck in airports or outside of the city because they have lost their ID, or simply never allowed to have one. You are lucky to be from a "nicer planet", they tell you, while at the same time patronizing and excluding you if your existence is not deemed profitable enough at that place and time.
Yet, the world is not bleak. At least not to you. You are allowed an ID, multiple job opportunities, places to rest, a couple free meals and a variety of friends. The domes, while sometimes labyrinthine and cold, have a certain beauty to their architecture and how well things flow. The right symbol always leads to the right place. The counters are always in the same order. Every process has the same steps to completion. The fact that most gameplay mechanics are either menu, single button presses or reskins of the battle system might be a sign of the game's lack of "depth" to some, but to me it's simply an extension of the way the game represents the highly bureaucratic Landroll society.
I chose to acquire the license for (and progress through a good amount of) every side job. This game can be quite easy if you spend a couple of extra minutes grinding, so the extra money wasn't necessary. But it made me feel like I was contributing something to someone. Janitors in Landroll are held in high praise for their skills, and rightfully so. Art is a vital part of society, even though it's highly commodified and treated like a product of a job quota instead of an expression of the self. People are given jobs that are adequate for their specific needs, so everyone can contribute no matter what their physical or mental capacity is.
When you do go outside of the domed portion of society in the game's second arc, you really start to notice the faults of the system. Even without the influence of the Dark Force, it is a system that hates outsiders and people they can't exploit to their full capacity. The game becomes a sort of Dragon Quest-like narrative at this point (ArtePiazza worked on handful of those, so it makes sense that they nailed that feeling very well), but I care so much about the world by that point that I actively want to save it, because I care about the people in it. There is a beautiful world outside of the domes (really, the graphics in this game are actually really good), and I want to make sure the people living out there are also safe and cared for as much as they care for each other.
I can't really call this a utopia, but I wouldn't call it a dystopia either. It's a society that values convenience above humanity, and yet humanity still manages to shine through. You may be forced to work a dumb job you didn't ask for until society deems you have no more purpose, but at least you get free breakfast and an opportunity to bond with your friends over it.