Preface or "Why I've decided to play all the numbered Final Fantasy games"

Many of you (by which I mean "I") may be wondering why it is I've decided to put myself through this, and this is what I'll tell myself the many of you:

There are a few reasons, really; namely, I don't have a lot of money at the moment -- certainly not enough to purchase a new console, which is sort of one of the few things to buy during this generation-shift -- and, without going into too much detail as to why, I've got time.

But the biggest reason is that, with last year's buzz of the then-upcoming Final Fantasy X/X-2 remaster, I began to reflect on the countless hours I spent immersed in Final Fantasy-related junk. It came as a surprise that, after spending some time with FFX, the "countless hours" I remember so fondly, differed from and in some cases, contradicted my enjoyment of the game now. The time I spent with the core-series was something of a given to me and I doubt the love for the games I harbored through the years was misguided or "wrong", but with time, I began to care more that I loved the games, and less about why.

So here I am, in physical and digital possession of original, re-released and remade games I've always taken for granted. I want to play them now, without thinking too hard about how much they've influenced my my taste in games. I wanna discuss them and not what they've come to represent for me. I know that there'll be a lot to love, and a lot to dread, so I hope to document the highs and lows that come with this. This isn't about how great or terrible these games are or even about presenting a fully formed opinion. It's about the experience of playing them now and the first and final impressions that come with it (and to lesser extent playing them in bulk, like, all in a row D:)

Without further ado and keeping in mind potentially unmarked spoilers, this journey starts with a pilgrimage...

To Zanarkand (The Original FFX)

This is where it all started: going "ahhhh," in a tone whose pitch grows incrementally higher as it's sustained, and following that up with a "I see what you did there!" whenever a character uttered the words "To Zanarkand..." Which was a lot, for the record. It's been a long time since I last even considered playing this one. Going in, the only aspects I remembered with any accuracy were the Sphere Grid and the creepy wedding scene. Speaking of which, that scene is exactly how I remembered it: from the whole grinding-on-rails thing (which I always assumed my six-year-old brain made up) to it looking absolutely gorgeous. All the pre-rendered sequences have held up real well for that matter, with the in-game stuff ranging from noticeably impressive to mildly awkward. I know that people tend to point toward the voice acting when criticizing this game which I totally respect, but honestly -- besides Tidus who I'll get to later (and Yuna to a lesser extent) -- I thought the acting was mostly fine. It's only when I factor in the frequently-awkward body language, and overly reused canned-animations that I start to cringe at the age.

The game's occasional tight shot has the characters looking relatively natural and expressive, making the clunkier lines marginally more tolerable. The problem is that these tight shots are often sandwiched between not-so-tight shots, and the difference in fidelity is staggering. Take a look at the shot on the right, of Rikku playing out one of her regular animations. Compare that to the (slightly zoomed in) Rikku saying, "Honestly?" on the left that plays moments before. This drastic level of change occurs in nearly all important scenes and is, while forgivable, extremely noticeable. The whole "forgivable" thing, again, extends to all characters except one: Tidus

Tidus was... an unfortunate case. Some of his lines seemed as though they were misinterpreted by his voice actor, and his close-ups (his equivalent of Rikku on the left) just resembled a young and less endearing Francis York Morgan to me. The worst part though, was his narration. It felt overly self-serious and devoid of any character, when it's what should have defined Tidus as a character. We were supposed to get to know Tidus -- to know what was on his mind and how he thinks -- yet all he did was restate the obvious. Now, I suppose you can excuse this by keeping in mind the context of his narration, but his voice work did a terrible job of convincing me that he was supposed to be telling stories beside a campfire. There were so many moments he could sound hesitant and embarrassed, or enthusiastic and proud, and it would have been powerful to hear the tone of his voice grow increasingly bittersweet as his recollection caught up to that scene around the campfire -- as it grew harder to ignore the imminent end. He didn't provide any of that, however. He just sounded like a main character from a crappy noir student film.

If I had to find something positive in my feelings on Tidus, it would have to be that, besides a bit of age on the graphical front, it's the only thing that really made me cringe. This was a pleasant discovery, because when I began this whole thing, I sincerely believed the Sphere Grid would be my doom. That's not to suggest that the Sphere Grid is bad or anything -- I can definitely see why people would like it; it's just not for me. I'm too neurotic and obsessively-compulsive for a mechanic that's so visually daunting right off the bat. By the end of the my playthrough, Wakka and Kimahri were absolutely worthless, Lulu was obsolete with Yuna on the team, and Rikku was wayyyyy stronger than everybody else. My inept handling of the Sphere Grid, however, led to a very engaging and narratively consistent final boss encounter: the first form was down, but my team was so pathetically weak that simply staying alive was an uphill battle. Eventually, I established a steady rhythm in the struggle, and I realized my one hope was to sponge the boss's constant stream of overdrives with Yuna's Summons. It was only after my very last living (and incidentally first-acquired) summon, Valefor, had perished, that Tidus landed the final blow on his father.

Of the FF's I've played thus far, this was the only time a final boss felt truly climactic (and I guess Jecht wasn't even technically the final boss..). The narrative was paced very well (it didn't fall into the trap of "whoops! One more antagonist to worry about!" halfway through the game, for example), and was framed to highlight the more cinematic beats. Which is to say that it was highly directed, but in a rare case, came across as directed with good reason: the moments leading up to and following the campfire scene are some of the most memorable moments I've had in gaming. It was structured as such that much of the peripheral content was tightly packed at the end of the game and I still feel rather ambivalent about this: on one hand, I got impatient after my first ultimate weapon, opting to skip the rest and beat it on the spot (meaning there's a lot I didn't see), and on the other hand, it at least provided the option to beat it without forcing me through weaker plot points.

All in all, I'd say this was probably the perfect place to start in this stupid vision quest of mine. I didn't have much nostalgia going in, but I knew that it aged well. The mechanics and plot were friendly to somebody that hasn't played a Final Fantasy in years, and got me in a mindset to play them again. Up next: Final Fantasy IX

Closing Remarks

One thing I would like to note before finishing this off, is that this first part was originally supposed to include FFIX, FFVII, and a bit of FFX-2 as well. I've finished the first two of the aforementioned and am about halfway through the third and felt like I should turn the notes I jotted down into more cohesive thoughts, while it's all still relatively fresh. Unfortunately, I didn't realize how much I'd have to say about each individual game. So, if there's any weird structuring issues in these first four sections, it's probably because I originally intended to be much more concise and post these in bulk.