I really wanted to come out of the ending satisfied, being able to find it within myself to fully accept the way FF16 executed its vision and say "despite its flaws it's very well done". But as the dust has settled, I find that while I still feel like its messages are extremely palpable and powerful, I didn't come out of the experience feeling wholly confident that FF16 executed itself to the best of its ability.

It's no secret now that this game is not actually a game of thrones politics heavy Final Fantasy game, but is actually just your typical JRPG romp. Make friends, save world, defy fate, etc etc. It's this first element especially that is essentially the lynchpin of the entire narrative, and it is the center of its focus on every level. From the plot, to the thematics, to the characters, to the game design YoshiP and Maehiro STRESS deeply the communities you've come to be a part of, as well as the power of the found family you’ve come to create. And I think through the sidequests this is done super well, but I don't love how these elements at times can take away from the main scenario experience. From the literal times which the plot halts completely and has you fill time by going around the hideaway, or how everytime you enter a new area you have to learn about its local town and the secret leaders who run them. While I find the former egregious, the latter isn't inherently problematic. I am a 14 fan after all, but the difference between 14 and 16 in this department is the potency of their writing and worldbuilding. I don't mind helping people do random BS in Shadowbringers cause Norvrandt is one of the richest worlds out there and Ishikawa writes with such charm and turn that random NPC's can really have an impact on how you view the world. Maehiro in 16 just really doesn't have the charm in his writing to consistently make his NPC's pop and Valisthea is just not an interesting enough setting to carry these more mundane sections. There is a lot of focus in trying to make some of the more significant NPC’s notable characters and I really appreciate that approach, but there really is only so far you can go with an NPC in terms of character writing.

It really ends up being a double edged sword, where while I do think it ultimately contributes to this holistic vision that can be satisfying (see the conclusions to many of the side quests), it at the same time draws focus away from things that definitely could've really used it like better exploration of the politics within Valisthea. This is something really made apparent by the fact that there’s literally a character who’s entire job is to explain to you the political state of the world on the handful of occasions Clive actually ships out on a mission.

I feel like every day I'd hop on 16 I'd feel different about it, more or less confident with its vision at each step, one day content and another quizzical. Funnily enough this is exactly like how I was with Endwalker, and I probably have it within myself nowadays to admit that Shadowbringers/Endwalker are my de facto top 1 fiction, but the difference here is I just don't think the quality of the writing is ever strong enough to really make my confliction ever bloom into deep appreciation and love.

That being said, I do really enjoy a lot of the game. I've been very critical of it simply because I think there is a lot to say about 16 as an experience, but ultimately there are still a lot of positives to remark on. The boss fights and setpieces are awesome, the cast is way better than I'd ever thought it'd be, Maehiro wrote his first truly great antagonist, the cutscene direction/general visuals are incredible, and I think in general the story has a really great sense of thematic cohesion which makes a lot of the moments land especially hard. This game is good, without a doubt in my mind do I think it's good but before I had first played it I said something to myself, which was I'd be content if it was at least better then Heavensward. And I haven't played Heavensward in so long, so it's hard for me to even make this judgment properly, but it's the fact that I can't be confident about it that gives me pause.

Constantly challenging, creative, and intuitive in its levels, with a more linear approach to its overworld design that upholds a consistent feeling of satisfaction its predecessors don't quite have. And despite the restrictions you'd imagine this linearity might cause, effective and varied implementations of shortcuts and alternate pathways ironically make Holodrum feel more open and free than any other 2D Zelda world I've experienced.

I could spend my time here talking about the many misgivings I have with the storytelling, but it really does not matter, cause no matter what criticism I had about it’s “redundancy” or how “amateur” it is, I would still always find myself at the sidelines cheering them on. Hoping and praying that these two characters who needed each other more than anyone else would be able to communicate their feelings to one another. A desire to see these two find a speck of happiness, a moment of catharsis for all the frustration I felt in watching them awkwardly try to navigate their blossoming emotions in spite of their trauma and responsibilities.

You could call this ever present desire of mine my weakness, and it’s this weakness that Echo of Starsong exploits to hurt me in ways fiction never has before.

I’ve spent multiple hours just constantly replaying the final moments over and over in my head, looking for a silver lining, a recognition that my catharsis wasn’t stolen for nothing, but there’s no light at the end of this tunnel, just a field of regrets.

Gamefreak legitimately sold everyone a $60 tech demo, hilarious. I think I finally see the funny side of life.

Endwalker is something that I approached with a lot of hesitation, doubting that it had much left of its story to tell, much left of its characters to explore, much left of its world to expand. And in a way, I was right, but Endwalker’s aim isn’t to just be another stepping stone for the overarching narrative. It is as most would say a “culmination”, and it is in this idea where I feel Endwalker once again repurposes that same cognition that made Shadowbringers feel so special.

In this instance acknowledging the titular “End” which this expansion represents, both philosophically and literally. While the former is the one many find the most interest in, and deservedly so, it’s the latter which really came off to me as profound. There’s something special about XIV’s meta storytelling, Ishikawa helmed expansions in particular, that really moves me. It’s not as if these expansions intend to muse upon the nature of the relationship between game and player, or the twisted morality of typical game mechanics, rather it’s an acknowledgement of us, the players, the heroes. A self-aware recognition of the long and arduous journey we have walked, and an assurance that our journey is not over yet.

Following this notion we find in Endwalker’s deep embrace, is a trend of solemn reflection amongst its character. Ruminations on their pasts, beliefs, adventures, echoing the voice of its creators, a voice which extends the same question to us. Has our journey been good? Has it been worthwhile? Amongst the aggregate, a single answer is nigh impossible, each and every soul will provide their own story.

Yet it is this anthology that XIV champions. Each story portraying the never-ending quest of another who has braved the infinite, who continued to walk forward, and at journey’s end found an answer they can call their own.

“Was this life a gift or a burden?
Did you find fulfillment?”

I did one of those things where you point at the screen and think "omg I know that!" when I got to Slaughterhouse-5.

Behind the wackiness of Itoi’s amusing writing is an authenticity which reflects in the eyes of the game's audience, the adolescents. Adolescents who may not fully cognize the world in which they inhabit, their worlds exist simply as impressions of reality, and its Earthbound which exists as physical representation of this impression. Displaying the journey of one such child submerged in a satirical interpretation of western society, maturing through their faceoff with the never ending cycle of corruption we face, and finding the solace that the series’ titular figure endeavors to protect, our Home.

Yet the above paragraph is really only a wish of mine, a wish that Earthbound had really focused on telling that tale, rather than playing up its quirkiness to the extreme. It’s around the halfway mark of the game where its focus begins to fall apart as our slightly humorous adventure through the suburbs and urban streets of Eagland then suddenly shifts to a world round journey of what can only be described as mind numbing insanity. The many gameplay systems of Earthbound such as its combat, leveling, item selection/management, and even menuing simply don’t even hit the base mark necessary for me to casually enjoy the game in any manner. Once you combine that with multiple of what have to be some of the worst designed dungeons I’ve ever played in any RPG, if there were no access to save states or speedup tools my score for this game would’ve had to be one point lower.

Despite partially reclaiming its focus as the game approaches its end through the Magicant section (an area actually acts as a great cohesion point for the narrative) and final boss fight, it isn’t enough to recover from just how mired my experience was for a large portion of it. Regardless, its ambitions didn’t pass me unnoticed, and its legacy is one that I really appreciate as a fan of many of the games which now carry on its many highlights. I look forward to playing Mother 3 in the near future and seeing if Itoi will truly be able to capture me in the way it already has many of you on this site.

2020

It's safe to say that Yu and Kay's dynamic is what carried this game, their conversations, actions, and attitudes are scarily accurate.

That Bigshot stuff is actually so insanely large humongous brain, I've been thinking about it for like four days straight at this point.

At its most fundamental the narrative of Shadowbringers feels alienating, removing us from Eorzea and placing us in a situation that’s seemingly so backwards. A world corrupted by a blinding light so strong it abolished the night, and it’s with this ambiguity of your role as the “Warrior of Light” where Shadowbringers starts to cook all of it’s mastery. Calling into question the unending battle between light and dark that plagues both the series and typical RPG’s, and using the opportunity to instead muse upon the true beating heart of conflict, heroism.

Unlike a work such as AoT which directly criticizes heroism as a shackle which forever catalyzes the endless cycle of violence, Shadowbringers endeavors to celebrate its roots and the righteousness which defines it. By reflecting upon itself through the multi-layered conflict that the lands of Norvrandt contain, we don’t only see the wide and equally personal impact of heroes, but also their necessity. Not only to protect, persevere, and save, but to inspire for our future as the ultimate symbols of both will and humanity at large.

Yet heroism isn’t reserved for just the light, just as Hydaelyn has her champion, so does Zodiark. Each with its own legacy to carry forward, its own right to fight, its own desire for happiness, its own claim to exist. Through this climactic battle of wills and morals is where XIV finds not only it’s strongest emotional beats, but a commentary that will shake anyone cognizant of modern society to their very core.

I’m purely discussing macro here though, because when observing the micro Shadowbringers has a lot of nagging issues consistent with XIV and even of its own design. Yet it’s in the aggregate where you really see the true beauty and elegance of what it was able to accomplish. Ultimately the sin eaters are no different than the Garleans or Dravanias, they are oppressors all the same, but through Norvrandt’s crisis is where XIV is finally able to illuminate its soul, You. The hero who never buckled to your oppressors and continued to keep moving forward, above man and god, towards hell and past it, only to find the answer at the end of the infinite, a glimmer of hope, everlasting.

“Fate can be cruel, but a smile better suits a hero.”

You know somethings wrong when the rhythm game is severely lacking in bangers.

One of the most insane, yet purposeful, interesting, and empathetic meta narratives I’ve ever experienced.

Despite the game being a bit sluggish and laborious at times, OneShot is ironically able to cover a wide variety of themes in it’s short run time. Those of which not only serve to create surprisingly impactful emotional/intellectual conflicts in the players brain, but to also deliver an impressive commentary on our humanity and its relationship with fictional narratives.

Although nothing in the game, nothing in fiction may be real, we are capable of giving it life through our emotions and memories. We live through fiction, and fiction lives through us.

When I discovered Youtube as a child I began to traverse the site during the renowned "Countdown" era, where anyone and everyone tried as desperately as they could to tell whatever "Top 10" their brain could muster. It was through these videos that my pure Nintendo heart would discover not only the games of old but also the games out of my reach, like Shadow of the Colossus, Final Fantasy, Devil May Cry, Metal Gear, and most relevantly God of War. The greatest irony I find in playing God of War (2018) now is that a series that I used to find to be nothing but senseless and brash violence, is now something I respect for not only it’s restraint, but also for its subtelty.

The juxtaposition between the epic battles/turbulent lore, and the serenity of the now decrepit Midgard speaks volumes towards the main theme of control. A concept which is not only felt through the dynamics and tones of the narrative but also in the combat, which heavily punishes the player for attempting to act without any sense of thought or strategy. When compounded by the deceptively sizable amount of side content, it all makes for an extremely satisfying and rewarding gameplay experience. Though it isn’t without its flaws, as the game almost feels baked in a lowkey sense of tedium derived from the consistently shallow puzzle mechanics and constantly expanding world which baits my sense of exploration to a fault.

It’s only natural that a game called “God of War” has effective and meaningful gameplay, but what equally impresses me is just how equally natural the narrative flows...most of it at least. The story starts off powerfully and really ignites your journey in so much purpose and intrigue, each event, each storybeat that follows perfectly illustrates and develops the deafening silence of grief and poor communication that Kratos and Atreus share. It is not only a coming of age story for Atreus, but equally one for Kratos (of a different kind of course), and the way the two interact on their own interconnected emotional journeys is graceful and subtle. Yet as the game goes on, the different detours that block your path begin to stop feeling organic and slowly begin to feel more and more artificial, even to the point of ridicule. By the end, the game does grant the player an awesome battle and appropriate conclusion, but they lack the feeling of being truly climactic.

Luckily for me God of War (2018) was written with a sequel in mind, and I’m excited to finally be able to experience this series as it releases unlike when I was a kid. And with how well 2018 setup Ragnarok both lore-wise and thematically, I seriously doubt it won’t be incredible.

If you think this game is even remotely hard you have too much grey matter.