This game came very, very close to being my favorite game of all time, but in the end it didn't hit the mark the way that a lot of my favorites did. This isn't a bad thing; NieR expresses all of its ideas in as coherent and fluid a manner as it can and I think it really hammers home everything that it needs to with the tools that it has. It just didn't tell me anything I didn't already know - and that’s a good thing. I cherish NieR as much as I do for the exact reason that it reminds me so much of what I have, what I know and how I've grown.
NieR is a celebration of video games as a medium; it picks them apart, critiques them, and gets to know them inside-and-out for all their weird quirks and then pieces them back together, the relationship between creator and creation much stronger for all the bizarre intimacy and trust that can only come when you've exhausted every little detail of something you know and love so well. In many ways, NieR is the definitive game of the state of games in 2010: a look back at the achievements of games' past (with countless homages to games such as Resident Evil or the original Legend of Zelda with gameplay mix-ups and perspective changes), while taking a few brave first steps into the increasingly unique and experimental narrative language games had started to develop going into their fourth decade of mainstream prevalence.
There’s also something to be said about NieR’s LGBT themes and the manner in which it explores them and works them into its core narrative; every single member of the main party has some sort of LGBT experience related to their story. Rather than dedicating entire subplots to extrapolating upon these themes, it lets the player identify these characters as gay/intersex/bisexual and then places them in circumstances where one can identify strong parallels with LGBT experiences in a very real way without having to carve out room in the story just for those. It feels natural, and it’s the best way I’ve seen a game tackle LGBT themes - a scene where two “non-human” characters reassure one another over their “flaws” becomes a textual example of LGBT solidarity in the narrative, whereas one character’s discomfort and feeling unsafe being half-shade in a party of shade-hunters becomes a parallel to the fears that intersex and transgender feel in cisgender society. I’ve never seen another narrative handle it so subtly and yet so explicitly as Nier does, and I cherish it endlessly.
The fact that NieR has two protagonists is one of the best possible decisions that could have been made for this game. Perception, perspective and understanding is an important theme in this game, and a lot of the writing is written in a way that will resonate differently depending on whether or not the protagonist is a young man protecting his sister or a middle-aged man protecting his daughter. Brother Nier’s story is one of the best intentions and purest love slowly rotting into the most volatile hate, whereas Papa Nier’s story is one of how even the most innocent and noble of love can draw you to do terrible, awful things. Both protagonists have unique and incredibly impactful effects on the world around them, and are impacted by it in different ways, and have equally meaningful and unique relationships with their party members.
I personally prefer Brother Nier - he resonates with me on a much greater level and I find his more dynamic character arc more compelling, and I’m a sucker for understated, subtle romances such as the one between Brother Nier and Kainé, which is amplified considering the backstory context (and resulting LGBT status) that Brother Nier has whereas Papa Nier does not have it. At the same time, I cannot imagine NieR without Papa Nier. I found myself missing him even when he was right there in the playthrough of NieR: Gestalt I watched while playing through Replicant.
Some criticize the new ending in the remake as unfitting or that it ruins the original game’s point. I understand where they’re coming from in saying so, but I disagree - I think to emphasize NieR as a purely cynical and centering its darkness above all else is to miss the point. NieR is a story about love, and what people are willing to do for the people that they love. Some loyalties are unbreakable and will lead people to do unthinkable things - such as “undo” a poignant and controversial ending that many people consider the highlight of the narrative in which they are held. (Personally, I find Ending D to be a bit overrated - the twist ending comes as a bit shoehorned in and doesn’t have much narrative weight or presence, without ever explaining how Nier can do what he does to achieve that ending).
The only true complaint I have is that I feel that it’s a touch too short and relies too heavily on padding through (ultimately meaningless, if not entertaining) sidequests, and that its truly emotionally impactful moments are more-or-less hastily crammed into a game whose routes you could beat in ten hours or less if you rushed through it (it took me about eighty hours to achieve all five endings, with this in mind). I understand the importance of the game’s replay value and that it’s what makes the game so special, but at the same time I feel like I would have definitely been willing to rack up 100 hours or more in exchange for longer playthroughs so that I could see the party interact more. The four-man ensemble of Nier, Kainé, Emil and Grimoire Weiss is my favorite in any video game, and it feels like we’re made to say goodbye to them just as we’ve truly gotten to know them.
But — and this is a key theme of NieR in and of itself — perhaps it is more important to appreciate the journey itself, for often it won't end the way you expect, or even in the manner that you want it to. Sometimes you're happier on the path to your goals than you are when you achieve them. Love your friends while you still can, cherish every step you take for what it is, and don’t look back.
NieR is a celebration of video games as a medium; it picks them apart, critiques them, and gets to know them inside-and-out for all their weird quirks and then pieces them back together, the relationship between creator and creation much stronger for all the bizarre intimacy and trust that can only come when you've exhausted every little detail of something you know and love so well. In many ways, NieR is the definitive game of the state of games in 2010: a look back at the achievements of games' past (with countless homages to games such as Resident Evil or the original Legend of Zelda with gameplay mix-ups and perspective changes), while taking a few brave first steps into the increasingly unique and experimental narrative language games had started to develop going into their fourth decade of mainstream prevalence.
There’s also something to be said about NieR’s LGBT themes and the manner in which it explores them and works them into its core narrative; every single member of the main party has some sort of LGBT experience related to their story. Rather than dedicating entire subplots to extrapolating upon these themes, it lets the player identify these characters as gay/intersex/bisexual and then places them in circumstances where one can identify strong parallels with LGBT experiences in a very real way without having to carve out room in the story just for those. It feels natural, and it’s the best way I’ve seen a game tackle LGBT themes - a scene where two “non-human” characters reassure one another over their “flaws” becomes a textual example of LGBT solidarity in the narrative, whereas one character’s discomfort and feeling unsafe being half-shade in a party of shade-hunters becomes a parallel to the fears that intersex and transgender feel in cisgender society. I’ve never seen another narrative handle it so subtly and yet so explicitly as Nier does, and I cherish it endlessly.
The fact that NieR has two protagonists is one of the best possible decisions that could have been made for this game. Perception, perspective and understanding is an important theme in this game, and a lot of the writing is written in a way that will resonate differently depending on whether or not the protagonist is a young man protecting his sister or a middle-aged man protecting his daughter. Brother Nier’s story is one of the best intentions and purest love slowly rotting into the most volatile hate, whereas Papa Nier’s story is one of how even the most innocent and noble of love can draw you to do terrible, awful things. Both protagonists have unique and incredibly impactful effects on the world around them, and are impacted by it in different ways, and have equally meaningful and unique relationships with their party members.
I personally prefer Brother Nier - he resonates with me on a much greater level and I find his more dynamic character arc more compelling, and I’m a sucker for understated, subtle romances such as the one between Brother Nier and Kainé, which is amplified considering the backstory context (and resulting LGBT status) that Brother Nier has whereas Papa Nier does not have it. At the same time, I cannot imagine NieR without Papa Nier. I found myself missing him even when he was right there in the playthrough of NieR: Gestalt I watched while playing through Replicant.
Some criticize the new ending in the remake as unfitting or that it ruins the original game’s point. I understand where they’re coming from in saying so, but I disagree - I think to emphasize NieR as a purely cynical and centering its darkness above all else is to miss the point. NieR is a story about love, and what people are willing to do for the people that they love. Some loyalties are unbreakable and will lead people to do unthinkable things - such as “undo” a poignant and controversial ending that many people consider the highlight of the narrative in which they are held. (Personally, I find Ending D to be a bit overrated - the twist ending comes as a bit shoehorned in and doesn’t have much narrative weight or presence, without ever explaining how Nier can do what he does to achieve that ending).
The only true complaint I have is that I feel that it’s a touch too short and relies too heavily on padding through (ultimately meaningless, if not entertaining) sidequests, and that its truly emotionally impactful moments are more-or-less hastily crammed into a game whose routes you could beat in ten hours or less if you rushed through it (it took me about eighty hours to achieve all five endings, with this in mind). I understand the importance of the game’s replay value and that it’s what makes the game so special, but at the same time I feel like I would have definitely been willing to rack up 100 hours or more in exchange for longer playthroughs so that I could see the party interact more. The four-man ensemble of Nier, Kainé, Emil and Grimoire Weiss is my favorite in any video game, and it feels like we’re made to say goodbye to them just as we’ve truly gotten to know them.
But — and this is a key theme of NieR in and of itself — perhaps it is more important to appreciate the journey itself, for often it won't end the way you expect, or even in the manner that you want it to. Sometimes you're happier on the path to your goals than you are when you achieve them. Love your friends while you still can, cherish every step you take for what it is, and don’t look back.
Zepherl
3 years ago
Overall, nice review :)