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Category: Reviews

Turnabout Spinoff

Though it may seem otherwise, Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth (referred to as AAI from here on in) is not an easy game to pigeonhole. It could be considered as either a spinoff of the main Ace Attorney series or a full entry in its own right. It is the first and only Ace Attorney to feature both a prosecutor as the main character and a heavy emphasis on crime scene investigation. However, it’s as lengthy and as well written as many of its predecessors, and represents an evolution of, rather than a complete break from, the core Ace Attorney formula.

Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth - Edgeworth's OfficeSpinoff or not, there’s no denying that this is a different sort of Ace Attorney. Set sometime after the events of the third game (Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney: Trials and Tribulations), it stars Miles Edgeworth, a savvy public prosecutor who’s both friend and foil to defense attorney Wright. It opens in Edgeworth’s office, where there’s been a murder, and the cases that follow only get bigger and messier from there. The goal of the game is to find the culprits for these cases by analyzing evidence and other information gathered throughout the course of the investigation. Typical for the series, AAI is funny and well-told, and while the plot can be predictable at times, in general, it is solid, anime-flavored drama. However, the localization suffers in spots from awkward grammar and typographical errors. It is far from the worst game localization I’ve ever seen, but it could’ve greatly benefited from an extra round of editing and polish.

While convoluted murder cases are a hallmark of Ace Attorney, how they are handled is what truly sets AAI apart. Previous games took place entirely from a first-person point of view for the investigation phases, and only showed the main character during trials. In AAI, Edgeworth is represented onscreen nearly all the time. When he’s not in his typical 1/4 front portrait view, he’s a sprite on the top screen of the DS, and can be made to walk or run around his environment. This comes at the expense of the freedom to move between several different locations, as Ace Attorney‘s defense lawyers did, but is realistic within the context of the story, particularly when dealing with partner characters—no more running back to the office just to speak with your assistant! Other new features include the “Logic” command, where Edgeworth pieces together things he has noticed in order to explain something within the scene, and a device that recreates crime scenes, AAI‘s subtle, and suitable, upgrade from the previous games’ magical MacGuffins.

Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth - Picking apart Agent Lang's testimonyWhat else is different? The post-investigation phase in an Ace Attorney game typically involves a courtroom showdown, but not in AAI. Edgeworth still takes testimony and presses both witnesses and suspects, sure, but all of this action takes place right on the scene, and as such, is very tightly integrated with the investigation phases.

If all this sounds like a radical departure from the old formula, it’s one that fans need not worry about, as there’s much that hasn’t changed. The basic interface, for one, as well as the fact that the entire game (except for saving functions) can be played with just the touchscreen if one prefers. Speaking of controls, the ability to shout “Objection!” using the microphone has returned. Also handled in a familiar way are the first-person crime scene examinations, where a specific area can be searched for evidence; likewise, the basic process of interviewing witnesses and presenting evidence to them is the same as it’s always been. The visuals and music are stylistically consistent with the rest of the series, though the majority of the reused art assets—such as the portrait views for Edgeworth—have been given a much-needed facelift.

One “feature” that has been in the series all along—and is also present in AAI—is the methodical process that pervades throughout the cases, and the testimonies in particular. Often, it’s not all that difficult to figure out just what is going on at certain points in the story, but jumping too far ahead in one’s conclusions can have dire consequences, and the correct answers can be rather obtuse. Perhaps it is because I’ve played the previous games and am used to the Ace Attorney thinking process, but I encountered such stumbling blocks far less in AAI. That, along with the lack of real make-or-break, nail-biting moments, has made for what’s possibly the easiest Ace Attorney yet.

While we’re on the subject of familiarity: as mentioned before, there are many throwbacks to earlier titles in the series. From the appearance of beloved characters like police detective Dick Gumshoe, to tiny, Easter egg-like details, there’s much here that will put a smile on any Ace Attorney fan’s face. However, this has come at the expense of introducing more new characters to the canon; while there are some, the amount of them feels insufficient when compared to the earlier games. This heavy reliance on familiar elements, while not bad in and of itself, is the most spinoff-like aspect of AAI, and weakens its case for being a good starting point for newcomers.

So, is AAI just a spinoff, or a true Ace Attorney game? The verdict points to somewhere squarely in between. It’s a great adventure game, with a lot of excellent ideas that I’d like to see put to use in future Ace Attorneys, but it also relies heavily on the past, and has a localization that isn’t quite up to par with those of its predecessors. If you’re a fan, especially an Edgeworth fan, you’ll probably love it. AAI is a fan’s game, and while I don’t doubt that newcomers to Ace Attorney can and will enjoy it, one gets the sense that they’re not really who it was made for.

Chrono Dross

For the past few years, I’ve been tying up some final loose ends in the old school JRPG space. I never set out to play everything—for instance, I’ve no plans on touching Xenogears, for an assortment of reasons—but there have been a handful of titles that I’ve slowly been getting around to. Last year’s non-port, non-remake relics were Earthbound and Secret of Mana; I didn’t like them, but couldn’t hate them, either. The former was archaic (even for the time) and sported certain horrible and frustrating bits of game design, but its charming atmosphere made it easy to see why it has garnered a fervent fanbase to this day. The latter has a clunky interface and AI, overenthusiastic animation, and a rushed translation, yet the rest holds up fairly well, and in general, the game wears its ambition proudly.

This year’s major relic is Chrono Cross, the PS1 sequel to a Super Nintendo game made by a once-in-a-lifetime “Dream Team”; a console RPG which has since become one of the most beloved of all time. With such a pedigree, Chrono Cross has a lot riding on it. On top of that, aside from executive producer Hironobu Sakaguchi and composer Yasunori Mitsuda, none of the most recognizable names from the aforementioned original game’s “Dream Team” show up here. This doesn’t bode well, but it’s unrealistic to believe that Chrono Cross would equal or even surpass its legendary predecessor, right? As long as it works, there shouldn’t be much to worry about, right?

Well, therein lies the rub. Chrono Cross doesn’t work, not as a whole. Rather, it should, it ought to, parts of it do sometimes, and it contains so many things that could make everything work, but they all fit together in the wrong way, or too much glue is used in one place, and not in another. The result is a goopy mess of wasted potential, a skunk works project that looks good on the surface, but creaks at the seams.

Some military academy sorceress battling sounds pretty good about now, eh?
Some military academy sorceress battling sounds pretty good about now, eh?

This is a JRPG where the protagonist adventures with only the barest of motivations even after a few hours in, and with little to no pressure from outside forces pushing him forward; sometimes, when said pressure does come to bear on him, events then progress in a such a way that make absolutely no sense in the context of what happened even just a scene or two before. This is a tale where, whenever the central plot rears its ugly head, it starts out presenting itself in a natural and fluid way, then bombards you, via whatever deux ex machina device happens to be available, with tons of information that confuses things once again before, during, and/or after a major boss fight. This is a plot in which, toward the end, when things do kind-of sort-of make sense now, the last little bits thrown at you are absolutely ludicrous and makes you wonder what kind of crack the writers were smoking.

This is a game that commits one of the gravest crimes of game design: instead of guiding the player whenever necessary, it makes assumptions of them. It assumes that the player will go in a certain direction once heading to a new town with an open main square that happens to have several branching paths, so that the entire place can be explored before triggering the very cutscene that hints as to you why the townsfolk were talking about the things they were. That’s not a problem, but what is is that it also assumes that the player will remember every single snippet of conversation, amongst many dozens of characters and across several locations, that takes place throughout the course of the game. As such, this is a game in which a strategy guide or online walkthrough won’t be wanted merely for the optional stuff (and there’s a ton), but just for figuring out how to progress through the damned story. I don’t know how much is the fault of the localization—the PlayStation era was hardly a golden age for English translations of Squaresoft games—or the writing itself, but either way, a game like this should not have a narrative structure this sloppy.

Then there’s the battle system, which confuses simplicity with elegance, and complexity with depth. This may sound strange considering the genre, but in the Chrono Cross system, there are just too many numbers. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not the numbers themselves, but the types of numbers. There are percentages and decimals all over your average battle screen, along with blinking graphs for your Elements (Chrono Cross‘ version of spells and healing items) and your usual HP indicators. It’s a system that closely integrates turns with three different grades of physical attack, the aforementioned Elements, field effects, and summons that are both rare and borderline useless. Leveling has been completely done away with, but party members can still earn stat upgrades at the end of each battle, which kind of makes one wonder what the point of having no levels is. It’s a highly unusual and experimental battle system—par for the course for a ’90s Square JRPG, when you think about it—but suffers from the same syndrome that Kingdom Hearts II did in that the regular enemies tend to be too easy, while certain boss fights ramp up the difficulty a noticeable amount. Even with the latter taken into account, it’s possible to run away from several boss battles, including the very last one, so perhaps I’m overstating the difficulty there.

Part of me now wants to see Rinoa kick Kid's arse so hard, she'd kiss the moon(s).
Part of me now wants to see Rinoa kick Kid's arse so hard, she'd kiss the moon(s).

And speaking of the final boss, there are two options to dealing with it, and one of them requires an item that is talked about many times, but can only be obtained by going someplace that isn’t labeled on the map and is referred to but once or twice (without any clear indicators that You Should Go There) during the regular course of the game. Using this item, well, that’s another matter entirely. Let me save you the trouble: unless you really, really like exploring, don’t bother searching for hints in the game—if you want the “good” ending, skim through an FAQ to get the details.

However, before you think that this review is all negative, rest assured that there were some things I liked about Chrono Cross. While I found main character Serge to be bland—even for a cipher—and heroine Kid a bit annoying, there were some cast members I genuinely liked, such as Norris. Certain references to the game’s predecessor that popped up early on were kind of cute. For the most part, and despite the ugliness of PlayStation graphics in general, the visual aesthetic was nice. One of the main subplots was largely enjoyable and quite touching, although a certain track associated with it wore out its welcome really fast. And speaking of music, Yasunori Mitsuda’s score was great; I went in thinking that I wouldn’t like it, as I’d been overexposed to a handful of pieces over the years, but the soundtrack as a whole grew on me.

So, in summation, don’t play Chrono Cross, especially if you’re, like me, someone who loved its predecessor to bits and would be put off by an inferior battle system and convoluted, inelegant lump of a story. Just go straight to your favorite Japanese import game music retailer and plunk down ¥3,204 or thereabouts for the soundtrack instead. That way, you’ll get one of the very best parts of the game without actually having to play it!

The Latest Hybrid Model

There’s been a lot in gaming press, blogs, and messageboards lately about how Japanese RPGs are stagnating. With the arrival, en masse of high-quality Western RPGs on consoles, history is repeating itself. Remember what happened when console gamers discovered what good first-person shooters and built-in modding/customizing tools were like? Halo was not a big deal to those of us who had previously played everything from Wolfenstein 3D onward, and Little Big Planet looked nice, but was it really going to revolutionize things when powerful—but not overly intimidating—modding tools like UnrealEd were old news?

Anyway, like I said, there’s a lot of whining about how JRPGs have gone downhill, and some people think that the best way to fix them is to, generally, make them more Western. Such homogenization isn’t the best approach (and wouldn’t make the core JRPG consumer base happy), but what is? While some JRPG series (most notably Dragon Quest, Tales, and Pokemon) soldier on with high-quality, well-received main entries, other games have been seeking different approaches. There’ve been some novel experiments (Valkyria Chronicles, The World Ends With You), but more commonly, we’ve seen a lot of hybrids.

Hybrid RPGs are not easy to pigeonhole, and they’ve always kinda-sorta been around in one form or another, but the past few years have really seen them come into their own. For evidence of this, RPGamer’s Best of 2009 Awards is worth a look. While more traditional RPG fare took the top prizes, many genre blends popped up in other categories: SRPG/shmup Knights in the Nightmare, RPG/microgame mashup Half-Minute Hero, dungeon crawler/farming sim Rune Factory Frontier, and so on. The phenomenon isn’t limited to Japan, either, one of the more recent examples being the Western-developed puzzle RPG Might & Magic: Clash of Heroes, likewise mentioned in the Best of 2009. Clearly, RPGs mixing with other genres is a growing trend, and going by the quality of the hybrids I’ve played so far, it’s one that I personally would like to see continue.

Mario & Luigi: Bowser's Inside Story - Lending Bowser a hand, through minigames!One of the original hybrid RPG stars has been, not unexpectedly, Mario. First in Super Mario RPG, then in the Paper Mario and Mario & Luigi games, the portly Italian plumber’s RPG adventures intermingle with the precise jumping and timing that define his platforming exploits. The Mario & Luigi series in particular adds an extra layer of challenge by having you control both Mario Bros. on the field at the same time, and eventually, special moves become available that can only be pulled off when the two are together. The second game, Partners in Time quadruples the party when Baby Mario and Baby Luigi join their older selves on the quest. This was also the first game in the series to appear on the Nintendo DS (the original was on the Game Boy Advance), occasionally reserving the top screen as the babies’ domain, with special areas only they can explore, for when they aren’t riding piggyback on the adults.

The latest Mario & Luigi game (and the last Mario RPG ever made that I had left to play), the Fall 2009 release Bowser’s Inside Story, is likewise on the DS, but this time, the party is reduced to three: Mario, Luigi, and perennial bad guy Bowser. The basic plot is that the Mushroom Kingdom has been hit hard by a disease called the Blorbs, which causes the local Toads to swell up into obese giants. Meanwhile, Bowser is, yet again, planning to kidnap Princess Peach when, along the way, he eats a strange mushroom which causes him to swallow up the Princess, Mario, Luigi, and half the Kingdom. Mixed in with all this is the delightfully mad Fawful, Cackletta’s henchman from the first game who comes back as a full-fledged villain here. While Mario and Luigi explore Bowser’s body to try and find a way out, Bowser commences on his own journey. What comes out of their adventures is one of the strangest symbiotic relationships the Mario canon has seen yet.

The hallmarks of the series are all present—the platforming, the special moves, the hidden items, the funny script, and so on—but a third major element has been added to the mix of RPG and Platformer: Minigames.

A Nice Place to Visit, but…

Although I play a lot of stuff published by Square Enix, prior to Radiata Stories, I’d never played a tri-Ace game before. Squeenix games developed by studios like Jupiter, Level-5, or others, sure, but for some reason, never tri-Ace. I’m familiar with their reputation for shiny graphics and generally average games, though, and Radiata Stories in particular seems to be a polarizing title.

Jack runs past a tiny village in Radiata Stories.It is a very pretty game, with appealing graphics that border on painterly, and—unlike many other games where brown is the dominant color—are pleasing to the eye. Similarly, the soundtrack is quite good; certain tracks would always get stuck in my head over the course of my playthrough. This being Square Enix, the localization is also solid, with nary an annoying voice to be heard.

The underlying mechanics are also, for the most part, excellent. The battle system is one of the best I have ever seen in an action RPG. This is a much more immediate system than your typical one a la Tales or Kingdom Hearts, where AI-controlled party members’ capabilities are individually tweaked through menus. A menu is still used here, but everything goes through the main character, Jack Russell (named after the dog breed?). Once Jack is able to lead his own parties, he can issue commands to individual members or the whole group, and even call them into special formations. These commands can be learned in various ways over the course of the game, and like with a lot of battle systems, you’ll come to rely on certain actions more than others. Battles themselves are generally easy, and whatever genuine challenge gets thrown at you isn’t of the frustrating kind. As for navigation, for the most part, I was able to get around just fine, with the final dungeon being the most annoying place in a world that lacks them.

Where Radiata Stories falls apart—oddly enough, given the title—is in the storytelling. It starts out promising, with Jack leaving home to go to Radiata Castle, to join an order of knights. This initial part of the game is plot-heavy, but by the time Jack takes up residence in the town surrounding the castle, the player finds that they now have a lot more freedom… or so it seems. Here, the game’s quasi-open world feel expands even more; in addition to the regular day and night cycles, Jack can now take on odd jobs, make friends, and freely explore most of the city and world. However, unlike a lot of open world games, story events in Radiata Stories can’t be started at your own pace; instead, they will be automatically triggered after waking up or—more annoyingly—after arriving at home to save your progress (and naturally, you can’t do so until whatever cutscene that happens is over, if they allow you even that). About the save system: there are a few temporary save points throughout the world which pop up during story events, but permanent ones only exist in one place at a time, which is always in Jack’s living quarters. You can see how this can be problematic.

Aside from pacing concerns, the story itself has its share of cracks. Though most of the characterization is great, Jack himself isn’t handled particularly well. Certain aspects of his personality change too quickly, even given the tale’s brevity; it leads one to believe that Jack is either naïve or fickle, or both. The meat of the plot, once the game gets around to it, is somewhat confusing. There are two branching paths this story can take; the ending I got was unsatisfying, and what I’ve heard about the second one didn’t sound all that hot either.

Despite its great battle system and beautiful visual and aural aesthetics, I can’t really recommend Radiata Stories. Much as I prefer to play games for the actual game parts, a competent narrative (whenever narrative of any kind is called for) does contribute a lot to the overall experience. While the story does try to break away from certain JRPG clichés in an admirable way, it interrupts the open world flow of the overall game when it isn’t wanted, and on top of that, doesn’t make a good enough case for its own importance. Radiata Stories is chock-full of promising ideas and approaches, especially for a JRPG, but in the end, it doesn’t deliver as well as it could have.

The Continuing Adventures of Adol Christin

My first experience with the Ys series was last year, when I downloaded and played the TurboGrafx version of Ys Book I & II via Virtual Console. I found the game to have its share of quirks, but overall, an enjoyable experience. Much the same can also be said of Ys: The Ark of Napishtim, the sixth game in the series (for simplicity’s sake, I’ll be referring to it as Ys VI from here on in). Like other games in the series, Ys VI has appeared on multiple platforms. It was originally a 2003 PC game. Two years later, it was ported to the PS2; a year after that, the PSP; and a mobile version is currently in the works. This review is of the PS2 version.

As in previous Ys games, the hero of the story is the red-haired adventurer Adol Christin. This time around he boards a pirate ship, only to fall overboard during an attack on the open sea. He winds up in the Canaan Islands, a land cut off from all others by the surrounding Great Vortex, where he meets the Rehdan priestesses Olha and Isha. The story goes from there, and although there are references to people and events from past Ys games, playing them is not a prerequisite, as the main tale in Ys VI stands well enough on its own.

The bosses are impressive, in that particular Ys fashion.
The bosses are impressive, in that particular Ys fashion.

Ys VI certainly shows its age. Textures are lush, but the tiling is obvious on an place like a field. FMVs are similarly lush, but have a similar so-obvious-that-it’s-CG sheen, and the character models in these movies range from tolerable (Adol) to hideous (Olha and Isha). Its status as a port is also clear from the slight jaggies on some of the still anime character art—especially on the brusque bishonen Geis—which would be perfect on a game developed specifically for the PS2. Animation is simple, and many of the characters don’t do much other than rotate their entire bodies, if they move at all. The soundtrack goes all over the place; most of it is all right, but there’s also a badly-executed techno track and on the opposite end, a boss battle theme that is Ys music at its finest. As for the non-musical sounds, the omnipresent voice acting isn’t very good (to put it kindly), some of the sound effects are similarly weak, and the mix is uneven at times.

However, all of this is mainly window dressing. The real meat of Ys VI lies in its dungeon crawling and hack-n-slashery. Adol, the one and only playable character in the game, has a set of quick moves and attacks, as do his foes, making grinding a fast-paced, enjoyable experience. Aside from one particularly tricky jump, all of his moves and abilities are easy enough to pull off, and (fortunately, as the default setup is a bit odd) the controls are completely customizable. Among your usual bits of equipment are three special swords that Adol obtains during the course of the game, each one with a different moveset and elemental magic ability. Each of these swords can be swapped in on the fly without having to go to a menu screen, a feature that makes otherwise plain battles more interesting. As for the enemies, a good variety of them can be fought, and the bosses in particular make for fun, and sometimes tough, battles. And though finding out where to go next in the story can be a little tricky at times, and there is a fair of backtracking, moving from place to place doesn’t take very long, and the larger dungeons can be easily escaped from by using a certain key item. All in all, the battle system and exploration aspects of Ys VI are quite enjoyable, and any potentially tedious parts are made to be as brief as possible.

Ys VI is one of those games that is not for everyone. The graphics and sound are those of a low-budget game with high-budget aspirations—a description which is certainly apt here. Also, though there are a few sidequests and hidden areas to explore, the game is fairly short, which might put off those RPG players who like lengthier experiences. However, the action is meaty, often challenging, and a lot of fun. Gamers who are willing to forgive the game’s aesthetic missteps could certainly find a lot to like here.

An Adventure That Spans Dimensions

If I was to pick a single video game RPG hero as my favorite, Mario would be very close to—or at—the top. Though best known for his platforming adventures, ever since Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars first arrived for the SNES, Nintendo’s most famous mascot has also flourished in a very different genre. Super Mario RPG helped pave the way for its primary successor, the N64’s Paper Mario. Along with the handheld-centric Mario & Luigi series, the Paper Mario games are fun, whimsical affairs.

Super Paper Mario is a bit different from Paper Mario, its GameCube sequel Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door, and, well, all other Mario RPGs in one crucial way: it’s action-based instead of turn-based, and all of the battles take place directly on the field, a la Kingdom Hearts. Flower Points—which, in the past, were used for special attacks—are done away with entirely; now, most specific moves can be pulled off with the simple press of a button, making battle generally easier than before in this already easy series. Stylish moves make a return, but they aren’t as central to the experience as they were in TTYD. This game is also a lot more platforming-heavy than other Mario RPGs and rewards constant exploration. These changes add up to a very different experience when compared to previous Mario RPGs, but one which suits the source material quite well.

Mario reaches an intimidating expanse...
Mario reaches an intimidating expanse...

Speaking of exploration, the main feature in Super Paper Mario is the ability to flip the regular “flat” world ninety degrees to reveal a three-dimensional view of that same environment. Often, hidden items, paths, boxes, coins, pipes, and even enemies will appear in a flipped view, making frequent flipping a must if one wants to see as much of the game as possible; however, stay too long in the flipped view, and Mario will start losing HP. Paper Mario has always played around with the idea of two-dimensional objects in three-dimensional spaces, but it is within this third game’s flipping mechanics that the visual whimsy really hits its mark.

Naturally, this inter-dimensional travel is a core theme of the story as well. Mario and Luigi set out to rescue Princess Peach from Bowser, but this otherwise routine mission is complicated by the arrival of Count Bleck, who sets in motion a prophecy that would destroy not just Mario’s world, but all that exist. Now on his own, Mario winds up in a town called Flipside, where he meets the wise man Merlon and the butterfly-shaped Pixl Tippi. From there, he begins his quest to find the Pure Hearts needed to make sure that the dark prophecy doesn’t come to pass, and that a counteracting “light” one does instead. This story is pretty typical fare and a certain segment breaks with the overall pace in an odd way, but it also winds up being the best in the series thus far, thanks in large part to some unexpectedly dramatic turns.

...which is actually a piece of cake to cross.
...which is actually a piece of cake to cross.

As in most any RPG, Mario travels to a wide range of locales and meets some interesting characters along the way. He also picks up new Pixls, tiny creatures who each enable Mario to use a certain ability; for instance, Tippi can reveal hidden objects and tell the player about an enemy’s attributes. For more abilities (and ever-important healing purposes), several items can be obtained from stores or by defeating monsters; many of these require gimmicky motion-control actions in order to be put to effective use. Finally, there are a few party members that are picked up along the way, each of which can be swapped in to replace Mario at just about any time; none of these newcomers can flip, but they each have a certain crucial ability that Mario and the Pixls lack, and that no item can replicate. In addition to their benefits out on the field, the Pixl and party members’ abilities help in Mario’s exploration of Flipside, and over the course of the game, the number of places available in this hub world slowly grows, sometimes revealing new distractions like a card shop, a restaurant where items can be made into new ones with the help of certain recipes, a 100-floor dungeon, and an arcade where minigames can be played.

Peppered throughout all of this is the humor that has come to be expected from a Mario RPG. In addition to a funny and smartly localized script, there are a handful of cheeky visual references to the Mario platformers of old. Along with its memorable soundtrack and appealing visual aesthetic, all of this is designed to put a smile on any Mario fan’s face.

It isn’t perfect—very few games are—but I can’t recommend Super Paper Mario enough. It’s humorous yet touching, simple yet brilliant, and breezy yet addictive. In spite, yet also because, of its different approaches to gameplay, it shines as one of the best Mario RPGs ever made, and a fantastic game in its own right.