Sunday, March 14, 2010

Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII or Why Japanese games > Japanese anime

This particular entry has been floating around in my head for quite a long time, not only because I frequently watch anime and play games, but also because Crisis Core has a special place in my heart. Could be because it was the only comfort I had over the worst two weeks of my life, but either way, I really like the game.

For anyone new to the party, that is, the people with little to no interest in games/anime/Japan in general, Crisis Core is the prequel that takes place seven years before the events of Final Fantasy VII, which I, by the way, have not actually played. Essentially, it sets the scene for the resident evil corporation, Shinra, and how the big bad in FFVII, Sephiroth actually got so evil in the first place. I guess that part would be kinda interesting if I actually liked or had any interest in Sephiroth, but I don’t. (Though I do quite like the freaky mind games he plays with Cloud, but that’s for another time.)

The gameplay itself isn’t particularly great, but, well, you’re dumb if you expect a Japanese RPG to have innovative gameplay. (I’m sure they exist, but seriously, stupid idea assuming something like that) In my mind, a Japanese RPG is just a slightly more interactive version of a visual novel. See, a visual novel, as it might imply, is mostly reading through lots and lots of text, looking at the occasional supporting image and at times choosing a particular direction for the storyline. Similarly, Japanese RPGs mostly entail watching some short movies, (equivalent to the supporting images in the VN) reading some text for the bits they can’t be bothered animating/it costs too much money, and continuing the storyline by fighting a series of relatively easy battles, since most RPGs have some action elements. So, despite it being a game, the intention, at least I think, is to entertain the audience through the narrative, rather than challenging gameplay. And in doing this, Crisis Core is really, really successful.

Something that I’ve found is that Squeenix manages to write relatively well are its characters. While some of them might resemble stock characters initially, all the main ones do manage to develop in some way throughout the course of the game, which is not something I can say for the majority of stock anime characters. See, what anime doesn’t know how to do properly is when to stop showing a character angsting. A very big problem that a lot of anime characters run into is that they get very fucking annoying because they just spend too much time complaining about their dear feelings. And I don’t know why anime is so insistent in drilling characters and their feelings into our heads. (Well, I suppose we wouldn’t think stock characters had feelings if they weren’t stuffed down our throats, but there are much better ways to pull off good character development.) Squeenix, and Crisis Core in particular, seems to avoid this particular problem. They know what level of emotion spewing is enough to get the point across and affect the audience without all of it just getting irritating.

Case in point. About halfway through the game, Zack, the essential main character in Crisis Core, due to a series of unfortunate events, is forced to essentially kill the person who has acted has his friend and mentor figure for quite a while. Obviously, after the ordeal, Zack’s realisation that he is indeed powerless in light of the big picture around him is pretty distressing.

Now, see, in anime, this particular situation would almost always lead to several very fucking annoying episodes of the main character just angsting away for ages and ages and ages. I dunno, somebody might be into something like that, but I… really don’t. Lucky for me, Crisis Core doesn’t do crap like that. Simply, after the abovementioned scene and a minute or two of the subsequent sad, there’s a timeskip to when Zack is back on his feet and very clearly having matured since. And the general execution of the entire thing is really, really good, and really, they managed to convey more human emotions and development through that short series of clips than several anime series’ could with 24 twenty minute episodes.

So I was thinking about it… and I honestly can’t think why anime finds it necessary to spell out every single thing a character feels, and spend way too long doing it. A show I watched recently basically had the main character spelling out to the audience the personality traits of the people around him. Stuff like that is really very unnecessary. Anime/film/tv in particular have a large variety of ways they can convey meanings to the audience. Unlike books, they aren’t limited to the power of words and formatting alone to get a message across. Each character is built through not only what they look like, but also the way they speak, and the mood of every single scene can be drastically changed by the musical track played in the background. The entire atmosphere, the entire mood of the show can be changed by the way scenes are shot, the way things are animated and the assortment of colours. And yet, despite all of these different ways for anime (and certainly, a large majority of mainstream entertainment, be it regular tv, films, etcetera) to convey different messages and different feelings, why does it constantly fall back to the same bland characters, the same shallow emotions and development and the same lackluster art quality? Do they think that their audience is so stupid that they can’t extract meaning from anything but words directly? (Well, considering some of the viewership, that might not be a particularly incorrect assumption) Unfortunately, the reason is probably just laziness. Why spend more money for atmosphere and art quality when you can make about the same amount of money from a generic story that will appeal to the masses? In the end, only a minority will be really appreciating your work, and you will, more likely than not, not hear from them very much anyway.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Crisis Core. The graphics are quite good, especially for a PSP game, and the graphical difference from ingame to cutscene isn’t as atmosphere destroying as it is in, say, FFVII. The magic attacks are beautiful, but I’m also a sucker for coloured dancing lights and particle effects, so, I dunno, it might not be everyone’s cup of tea. The ingame battle music isn’t particularly great, but the game always hits home with the music during cutscenes, which further adds to the game’s overall effective pacing and atmosphere. Although the only character I really really like in the game is Zack, the entire cast is quite well rounded and do react, well, like regular people, rather than that thing that happens in anime all the time when most of the characters only have one (annoying) personality trait. The DMW  feature also brings more of the story and character interactions into the game part of the game rather than limiting only the cutscenes. Essentially, with this, Zack recalls particular memories he’s had with particular people he meets, and this grants him additional abilities/better attacks/etc in combat. The memories themselves aren’t ones that play in the cutscenes, but they actually resemble fond memories normal people have when they spend time with their friends — not of any serious subjects or anything in particular, just nice memories that make you smile when you remember them.

And see, the existance of this feature makes the ending even more crushing. No, seriously, this game made me cry. And games don’t make me cry. Well, the crying may have been related to my generally bad emotional state at time of first playthrough, but oh man, the ending was just great. Technically it’s a spoiler, but anybody not connected to the FFVII scene won’t be bothered by this knowledge, but basically, Zack is shot down and killed by Shinra’s army. The game makes you play through a fight that you can never win at against waves and waves of Shinra troops, with them progressively doing more damage. The more damage Zack takes, the more of this memories of his friends fade, and once its all his HP is gone, so are all of his memories of his friends and all that’s left is the sound of gunfire. I read elsewhere that somebody didn’t like how they made the player trudge through this part, despite the inevitable death, but it worked really well for me. I probably played the best I had ever played the game ever, clinging on the hope that maybe he’ll get out alive. And, well, when he doesn’t, I seriously felt like somebody had just ripped my heart out. (Again, these feelings are probably more affected by my general unstable state of mind when I played it, but I’ve replayed it since then and it still makes me depressed, so clearly it’s doing something right.) And again, the reactions towards Zack’s death by the other characters aren’t overplayed or overdramatised, and again, the game simply ends with another timeskip to show the development in the characters since the death, rather than dwelling for countless hours on the characters and their angst.

I’m sure I’m making all kinds of dangerous generalisations talking about anime like this, but, well, gems are always going to exist, who manage to combine good narrative, execution, atmosphere and characters. What my problem is is just that not enough of those exist. If it were up to me, every single show would at least go to efforts to really stimulate the audience mentally, intellectually and emotionally. But, well, a lot of people don’t like that kind of thing. Some people are apparently watch shows not to think, but to have some manner of entertainment where thinking is not neccessary and all they want is a few hours of non commital timepass. But, well, I’m not one of these people, and I don’t think I can ever be somebody like that.

Its like asking a horse to suddenly change himself into a ladybug, or something.

[Via http://nikaaaa.wordpress.com]

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