Final Fantasy IX and Existentialism

They say, “You never forget your first,” but in my case, my first Final Fantasy was actually VIII. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll always be nostalgic for that rocking soundtrack that worms itself into your brain and addicting Triple Triad card collecting minigame that was necessary for the meta-game, but the title overall never stuck with me the same way that others of my childhood did. Perhaps it was the convoluted love story that never resonated with me, or the equal parts simple-yet-complex Junctioning system, but I found myself returning more often to other entries in the franchise. Ultimately, however, it would be the next game in the series, Final Fantasy IX, that not only has stuck with me the longest, but has also refused to ever let me go.

What starts off as a lighthearted fantasy romp soon descends into an existentialist exploration on what it means to truly be alive. Our protagonist, Zidane, is a member of a theater troupe/roaming gang of thieves attempting to kidnap the heiress to the Kingdom of Alexandria, only to find out that Princess Garnet actually desires to run away. She suspects her mother, the queen, is being manipulated into becoming more aggressive and war-hungry and endeavors to bring her back from such a state. Of course, nothing ever goes as planned, and the ever-growing party must work to find the mastermind behind the conspiracy and save their planet (and all others) from total destruction. It’s your typical JRPG plotline, but where it comes alive is in the characters and how they respond to the threat of their world coming apart.

As a game itself, Final Fantasy IX is a culmination of everything the franchise had built and established at that point in time. The final entry on the PlayStation, developers SquareSoft (now Square-Enix) wanted it to be the most jam-packed title in the series to date. The iconic and familiar tropes of the series all return, from the Active Time Battle mechanic to the numerous minigames, and none of it feels tacked on. (Well, you could argue that the card collecting minigame Tetra Master doesn’t have much purpose or utility beyond affecting your Treasure Hunter score, which is only used in a late-game sidequest, but it’s still stimulating enough to include.) Other minigames like Chocobo Hot and Cold, while time-consuming, offer some of the best items in the game and can even lead you to hidden locales and face against secret enemies. You can easily spend hours on these side activities, distracting yourself from the main mission, and yet it won’t feel like a waste simply because of the fun you’re having.

Part of the fun comes from the presentation of the game and its world. As stated before, this was to be the biggest and best Final Fantasy yet and a celebration of the series as a whole. Thus, there are more references, easter eggs, and cameos than can fit in Fat Chocobo’s inventory. Some are on the nose, like an antagonist named Garland or Trance states, but others are more subtle, like the theme to Pandemonium being a slowed-down remix of its II counterpart or the chocobo Bobby Corwen being a reference V‘s Boko. Even other Square games like Chrono Trigger are called upon, and that’s not to mention all of the Shakespearean allusions that make a literary nerd like me go ga-ga.

I just can’t review a classic Final Fantasy game without talking about the soundtrack. This would be the last game in the series entirely composed by a man I believe is foundational to the success of the franchise, Nobuo Uematsu. Self-taught and influenced by progressive and classic rock, Uematsu has helped create some of the most iconic moments across the entire games. Many players will cite the symphonic brilliance of Dancing Mad and One-Winged Angel as some of the best songs in any video game period, and likewise, he pulls out all the stops for FF9. The Darkness of Eternity and A Place to Call Home have found their way into my brain and embedded themselves into my sulci. Every moment, from the epic to the mundane, has Uematsu to thank for establishing the tone and filling you with a sense of wonder.

Final Fantasy IX is a tale of finding meaning in a meaningless world. All of the characters are searching for something, whether or not they realize it from the get-go. For someone like Freya, it’s trying to find both her missing lover and her own confidence as a warrior; or for Amarant, it’s the quest to overcome the biggest challenge he can find, to discover what true strength is. Others may not be so obvious, like Quina, who has already found their own life pursuit in the absurd. This wide-ranging and wild cast must confront how to find define their existence in a world that balks at such a concept, and this can be perfectly encapsulated within the development of one character in particular: Vivi.

The black mage of the group quickly learns his true origin: as a prototype for a fighting force meant to conquer the world and destroy as much as possible. His function is already predefined as a weapon of war, but growing up and living among the people of Gaia changes Vivi and helps him to discover that it is up to only himself to find what answers life has to offer. Many fear him as a destroyer and a killer, built only to cause destruction, but he rejects this determination and impels himself to protect the ones he loves, even knowing his own death is on the horizon. Life may have had a different purpose in mind for him, but he stands up in the face of the reason for is creation and instead finds one that matters to him. This is the thematic underpinning that reverberates throughout the entirety of the story.

A core tenet of existential philosophy is to define oneself through free will and choice. Life is considered to be absurd; that is to say, it is devoid of greater meaning, lacks significance, and is reduced to nothingness in the end. It is up to each individual to make a choice: do you succumb to that meaninglessness and accept despair, or do you resist against that emptiness and, instead, search for your own meaning? One of my favorite essays is “The Myth of Sisyphus,” and those of you who already know me will know where I’m heading with this. Albert Camus posits that the human condition is one of suffering, that existence is irrational, and that death overtakes all ultimately. So, then, what should one do in the face of such a lack of hope? To Camus, it means to pick yourself up, to continue climbing that mountain, and to find resolve in those rare moments of lucidity. We have to find pleasure in the present, to enjoy what is in front of us, and to live for the moments that bring us relief from the absurd.

This is encapsulated in the interaction between Zidane and the controversial final boss, Necron. After learning he is fated to die, the primary antagonist, Kuja, decides to destroy all of reality along with himself, and through such an act, summons a being of anti-existence, a creature who sees life as only an extension of suffering. Kuja’s existential crisis is what ultimately spurs Necron into being, claiming that life is a cycle of woe that can only be broken via the eliminating all life to a state of nothingness. In its mind, the only way to prevent suffering is to ensure that nothing can exist which will suffer.

Of course, the party rejects such a theory. Each of them has learned to find their own purpose in existence, not the one assigned to them. Life may involve suffering, but it also involves joy, friendship, and love, things that ultimately make our transient and temporary experiences worthwhile, and it’s exactly that resistance against the absurd which enables them to overcome the embodiment of death. Whereas Kuja takes ends up taking a selfish and nihilistic view to his life, to the point of attempting to destroy all of existence with him, the party finds meaning in the bonds they have with each other and choose to lift one another up. It is literally what gives them the strength to overcome the anguish of defeat flooding over them upon Necron’s actualization, and in the end, a dying Kuja learns what it means to live in his final moments. Purpose can take many forms, whether a passionate pursuit, dedication to self-betterment, or in the relationships you form, but no matter the source, they are what make life worth living. In the end, the heroes prevail and each goes on to live a life which is fulfilling to them.

Maybe that’s why I keep finding myself returning to this game every few years, sometimes even multiple times in the same year. Sure, nostalgia has a big role to play in that, but so does the majesty and mystery of the world, the purpose each character has to find in such a world, and the challenge of overcoming insurmountable odds in finding such a purpose. As I sit down to write this, I find myself particularly drawn to Vivi’s words in the epilogue: “To keep doing what you set your heart on… It’s a very hard thing to do. […] But we need to figure out the answer for ourselves…” True meaning still seems to escape me from time to time, but knowing that I do not struggle alone and that I can help others to find their own meaning gives me the strength to persist.

Clair Obscur and the Double-A Renaissance

Some games, I’ll pay attention to years before their actual release. I remember when The Last of Us had been announced, and the only discourse surrounding it was how much Ellie looked like Elliot Page. Other games, I’ll hear about for months after release before I finally decide to pick it up. It took listening to not one, but two separate podcasters talking about Balatro before I went in on one of the best indie games of last year. Others still, however, will appear seemingly out of nowhere, a bloom amongst the weeds. It may not have been heralded by any pomp and circumstance, but the ripple it leaves when cast into the ocean of video games can be massive. Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 unexpectedly came into my life while browsing Reddit, and with my feed now being filled by posts about what is being considered one of the greatest games of this generation, I had to sate my curiosity.

Roughly 70 years before the start of the game’s plot, reality was broken apart in an event known as the Fracture. This moment welcomed the Paintress into the world, an immensely powerful being who paints a number on a massive monolith, marking anyone aged above that number to die. Fleet after fleet of Expeditioners, scouts and warriors representing the last vestiges of mankind, embark every year to take down this enemy and free the world, to no avail. You join the latest attempt, Expedition 33, as they set off from the haven of Lumière in order to break the cycle of death and ensure a future for those who come after.

I really don’t want to get more into the narrative if I can avoid it. This is one of those stories that has to be experienced to properly take it all in. Reading a synopsis or hearing a reaction does not do justice to one of the most poignantly written games I’ve played in quite a while. What starts off already as an incredible fantasy epic eventually becomes an exploration of the very meaning of existence, the power to create, and the responsibility of the creator. It also helps that the high-quality writing is complemented by the fantastic voice work performed by the actors. In particular, Charlie Cox, Ben Starr, and Rich Keeble all brought smiles to my face with their roles, bringing the script alive. The complexities of the story become even more entangled by the end, but not to the point of being an unintelligible mess. There is a story the game wants to tell, and without compromising itself, the developers tell that story, making some bold and outright risky decisions that could easily alienate audiences if executed poorly. But by taking those chances and sticking the landing, Sandfall Interactive steps into the spotlight as a developer to watch in the future.

A quick search on Google can show you that, ironically, for decades now, people have been discussing whether turn-based gameplay is actually boring and dying out. The idea seems to be that while it was innovative at the time and helped to get around hardware limitations, it is obsolete in today’s marketplace. Anyone who’s actually paying attention can see turn-based games are maybe even more popular than ever before, with the success of Baldur’s Gate 3 and Persona 5. Clair Obscur’s take on turn-based combat has led to a revitalization of this topic, demonstrating just how alive the mechanic truly is. Along with being able to select whether to use a basic attack, a skill, an item, or other actions during your own turns, players can also attempt to dodge and parry enemy attacks during their turns as well, something I remember first seeing in Paper Mario all the way back in 2000. You’re not just stuck waiting to go again; each move actively keeps you engaged, whether you’re attacking or defending, meaning you’re constantly plugged into the battle. Each character you control also has additional mechanics making them unique in combat, whether building up spells to empower other spells or activating synergistic abilities to increase damage or ability effectiveness. Until you find the right combination of player character moves and passive upgrades, experimenting with the combat system will take a while to build any proficiency in. After nearly 60 hours, I was still struggling with the pacing and timing of certain enemies’ attacks while others I could defeat without taking any damage. It’s challenging, but rarely to the point of frustration. Learning some bosses’ patterns can take some time, but it is incredibly satisfying to land a perfect counterattack after watching all their moves.

Many comparisons are being made between Clair Obscur and Final Fantasy, in part due to the latter’s stranglehold on turn-based RPGs. Although their games have moved away from that direction as of late, the similarities between the two franchises go much deeper than combat format. As mentioned above, Ben Starr appears in the game as a broody, dark-haired sword wielder looking to free those trapped in circumstances beyond their control, very much alike to his starring role in Final Fantasy XVI as Clive Rosfield. Soon after meeting this character, you’ll also be introduced to another whose gimmick is being able to transform into the various enemies you encounter and use their own abilities against them. By taking their feet (de-FEET-ing them, if you will), they can actually use that enemy’s special combat moves on his own turns, like Blue Mages across the Final Fantasy series, including Gau from FF6, Quistis from FF8, and Quina from FF9. The biggest influence Final Fantasy has on Clair Obscur, however, seems to be the combat. Specifically, the turn-based mechanics used in Clair Obscur seems to be directly inspired by Final Fantasy X‘s Conditional Turn-Based battle system. Unlike the traditional Active Time Battle, where each character and enemy have an internal “clock” that determines when a turn can be taken, a turn list can be seen in the corner, displaying who is about to move and who is next in the queue. This turn order can then be manipulated by player or enemy actions; for example, using Rush to increase player agility may allow you to take another turn before the enemy can make their own. I was disappointed when Square Enix moved away from this style of combat, as I actually think it’s the best way to present turn-based battles. This method allows for better strategizing, with players able to plan characters’ moves multiple turns in advance or changing up tactics in an emergency. It’s an underutilized mechanic that refreshes the stagnation of normal turn-based combat, and it’s great to see a modern game embrace it once again.

Persona‘s influence can also be felt on Clair Obscur, particularly in the way the UI is displayed in combat. The game’s own director has praised the Persona games for their stylish presentation, with a dynamic menu and camera angles putting you directly in the battle. Between Final Fantasy, Persona, and Paper Mario, among many others I’m likely forgetting, Clair Obscur is a French love letter to JRPGs (making it a Je RPG) that has been done so masterfully, I legitimately do not see how another game will surpass it this year.

The development team of Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, honored in painting form

It may surprise you to hear, then, that Clair Obscur is actually Sandfall Interactive‘s first release as a developer. Director Guillaume Broche originally worked on Ghost Recon: Breakpoint and Might and Magic: Heroes VIII before leaving the studio to pursue making the kinds of games he wanted to create. Lead writer Jennifer Svedberg-Yen, was originally hired as a voice actor based on a Reddit post calling for auditions. Even composer Lorien Testard was discovered on SoundCloud, with this being his first game project ever. The odds were very much stacked against them in an industry with higher and higher budget costs, but their focus to deliver a complete, enjoyable, and gratifying game helped them to keep their eyes on their goal.

When talking about budgets in the video game industry, there are generally three kinds of games. Triple-A (AAA) games are the most expensive and funded by the biggest publishers, with access to much more resources and marketing. These are your industry giants, your Grand Theft Autos, your Call of Dutys, your Mario Kart Worlds. On the other side of the spectrum, we have single-A games, but no one ever calls it that, so let’s just refer to them as indie games: independently funded, usually created by a small team or even a single person. The previously-mentioned Balatro would fall under this category, as would Cuphead or Hades. Somewhere in the middle lie double-A (AA) games. These might be made by a bigger indie studio or a large non-indie studio, generally under 100 employees. They get their funding from publishers who don’t own the developer or cannot otherwise dictate how they make the game. As a result, the teams have more creative freedom when making them, but the budget constraints can be a major source of tension for the developer. Clair Obscur stands as a prime example of a double-A game, with a larger-than-independent budget, smaller development team, and lower price point on launch.

Budgets for game development are skyrocketing at an exponential rate. When Destiny first launched in 2014, it was called the most-expensive game created yet, totaling to $500 million due to marketing and royalties, but in actuality, likely took $140 million to make, still a sizable chunk. Horizon Forbidden West and The Last of Us Part II, according to court documents, each cost over $200 million. The ever-delayed Star Citizen is reported to have cost around $800 million to develop so far, and a release window hasn’t even been considered yet. Can you imagine? We’re on our way to the first billion-dollar game! Purchasing the games themselves has become more expensive as well, with Ubisoft justifying a $70-price tag for Skull and Bones in 2024 by calling it the first-ever “quadruple-A” game. Now, Nintendo is even joining in, with Switch 2 games costing as much as $80 for physical copies. Publishers and developers defend these costs by touting the amount of playtime and hours of enjoyment their games can provide. You’re just getting every cent worth out of your purchase, in other words, right?

In today’s market, just because you’re spending more does not mean you’re paying for quality. Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League was supposed to be Rocksteady’s next leap forward in the DC Universe. However, grindy gameplay, technical problems, and a dubious narrative led to the developers ending support for their online shooter less than a year after its initial release, putting the future of the franchise at risk. Redfall was such a flop for Arkane Studios that Microsoft decided to close their entire Austin, Texas office. The most infamous example in recent memory, though, has to be Concord. This hero shooter in the vein of Overwatch and Apex Legends spent eight years in development, only to be shut down after just two weeks. What is causing these games to end up so poorly after millions of dollars and years of manpower invested into them?

There are a few reasons why these big-budget games don’t meet the mark. Investors and shareholders for these major companies want to make sure they get a return on their investment, so they often choose to budget games and push for decisions that are “safe” and will be beneficial for their bottom line. Related to that is the inclusion of live service models, which have replaced downloadable content as the primary money-making scheme for publishers. By adding subscriptions and microtransactions in the form of “battle passes,” a game’s lifespan can be elongated and monetized far beyond its initial release. Ultimately, what I think it comes down to is that, for the people making these major financial decisions, fun isn’t what sells. Engagement sells, whether positive or negative. There’s no such thing as “bad press,” in other words. Anything that can bring attention toward their game and possibly bring in even another cent is prioritized. We’ve seen this in other industries, too, where the products are increasing in cost while decreasing in quality. Enshitification has now crept into the game industry. Triple-A games were originally meant to represent a high standard for games, where the investment is proportional to the caliber of the game. It was not meant to be the default state, where millions of dollars can be dropped at a moment’s notice in service of profits down the line.

That is not to say that I hate triple-A gaming. Mass Effect, my all-time favorite, is considered triple-A. Right now, I’m currently making my way through Star Wars Outlaws, another triple-A title. Down the line, games like Ghost of Yotei and Intergalactic: The Heretic Prophet are very intriguing, and I would be interested in getting a Nintendo Switch 2 if and when the console and games become more affordable. But right now, I want to get the most bang for my buck when it comes to games, and we are seeing some excellent properties being released, like Stellar Blade, Lies of P, A Plague Tale, and Robocop: Rogue City. I don’t necessarily care who makes my game, so long as it captivates me.

Former designer on World of Warcraft Chris Kaleiki has stated that there exists an “underserved” market for games that are “more substantial than indie” but aren’t going to “make billions of dollars.” With how well Clair Obscur is currently selling, that statement may need to be revised.

Rhakaa Story Document

Another project I worked on for a short time was called Astrae, a puzzle platformer set deep in an alien installation. The player is a young explorer who gets embroiled in a conflict between the last two avatars of the Rhakaa, a long-dead civilization of avian warriors. My first task was to write about what Rhakaa life was like during the reign of their empire.

Unfortunately, my graduate school studies cut into my ability to work on this delightful game and I had to step away from the project. Please give the development team some of your time and check out the progress they made on their unique property.

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We’ll Save the Princess! Documents

Though this project ultimately never came to fruition beyond a short demo, We’ll Save the Princess! was a fun strategy role-playing game I designed, tasking players to traverse a fantasy world and complete random confrontations within a certain time frame. Part-Oregon Trail, part-Final Fantasy, this game would feature over one hundred unique encounters, ten playable classes, and multiple endings and milestones to reward players across playthroughs.

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Aortic Defender

Do you have what it takes to safe the internal city of Christown from viral threats? In this short tower defense game, players take the role of Anne T. Bodie, a gunslinger who uses her immunoglobulins to protect her home from bacterial invaders.

This was another project on which I was designer and producer, creating different tower and enemy types. Part of my goal was to give the game a sense of “realism”, giving the units names and properties that attempted to match their real-world counterparts. Each tower is a different form of white blood cell and enemies are different viruses.

Download Aortic Defender

Special thanks to Joshua Smith, Kevin Hewitt, Sasha Conaway, and Ellen Beizer, for their roles in developing this short project.

Slow Down or You’ll Die!!

What sort of monster would create a video game about falling off of a building?

Me. I would. That’s what I did.

Another project for my game development studies at university, Slow Down or You’ll Die!! is my attempt to create a short, 30-second game. It’s easy to control, but one wrong movement, and you can end up like ketchup all over the concrete. It’s a relatively simple game, made purely to showcase my base capabilities as a game designer. I hope you make it to the bottom.

Download Slow Down or You’ll Die!!

Special thanks to Julien Fournell, for his help with the programming.

Super Han Solo

So I heard you like Star Wars

Well, what a coincidence, because I do, too! In fact, Star Wars is probably the biggest influential piece of media on my personality. A New Hope is one of the first movies I have the memory of watching, so obviously it was hugely fundamental in forming me into the beautiful ball of nerd that I am today. Between that and my excitement towards the then-newly released The Force Awakens, I felt obligated to create an homage to it.

Which leads to Super Han Solo. Beginning as a project for a Level Design class, I created a short platforming level and art assets to go along with it, where you can control Han Solo as he races across the Tatooine desert to reach the Mos Eisley cantina. Along the way, there are Millennium Falcon tokens to collect, falling pitfalls to avoid, and Chewbaccas to placate.

Download Super Han Solo

Special thanks to Derek Prate, for writing the base code.

Ludonarrative Dissonance in Modern Gaming

Woah, that’s a pretty wordy title. Let’s see if we can condense and contextualize it.

When we play video games, we experience the gameplay (ludology) and the story (narratology) attempting to entertain and immerse us in the game’s universe (no, this won’t be a talk about hyperreality and immersion, but it is related). Developers want us to be immersed in the games they create; they want us to continue playing the game so we praise it and help the developer to sell more units. It really is as utilitarian as it seems. When we cannot immerse ourselves, we aren’t entertained by the game, and we either sell the game back to a retailer, tell our friends not to buy the game, or both. This is something developers attempt to work against. However, due to the sole fact that the game is, in fact, a “game” and not reality, the gameplay often comes into conflict with the story the game is attempting to tell. This, when gameplay and story contradict one another, is ludonarrative dissonance.

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We Play: How YouTube is Creating an Interactive Community

Gaming has, quite obviously, evolved in recent years. Whereas in its earliest, arcade years, video games were about obtain the highest scores, games are now about “the experience.” Games try to incorporate you into their worlds, have you empathize with their characters, and positively change you as a person. Above all, though, games try to be fun or interesting, if not both. Regardless of the game’s goals, if you enjoy playing it, you’ll want to share it. In the past, you’d have to invite a friend over and either swap the controller every few turns or play a multiplayer game. Nowadays, modern consoles, like the Playstation 4, have “Share” functions that allow you to post a screenshot or video to the Internet. Video games are best when the experience of play, whether single-player or multiplayer, is shared. And this is best shown through the interactive community of YouTube.

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The Hyperreality of Assassin’s Creed

A common element of gaming is immersion. Developers attempt to engage us in the experience of the game, bridging the gap between reality and the virtual experience. A game is considered successfully immersive if the game world becomes real in the mind’s eye of the player. Mass Effect brings us into an intragalactic adventure, while Grand Theft Auto V shows us around a fictionalized Los Angeles. The developers want us to be a part of the world they’ve crafted, so we feel agency in continuing to play and affect the events of the game. There is one game series, however, that bridges the gap between reality and virtuality in a far different way, one series which understands that it is a simulacrum of reality without attempting to create a new reality: Assassin’s Creed.

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