Some of my comrades are using their personal blogs for discussing of anything but games, but I don’t know that that’s a possibility for me. How do I separate my work from the rest of my life, when games are such an integral part of both? I don’t think it’s possible. In reality, I just wanted the freedom to speak my mind about any aspect of my life without the hassle of editing my thoughts for a GameSpot audience.
And face it, the subject of Japanese RPGs is fresh on my mind this evening as I reflect on my experiences with Lost Odyssey and the usual fanboy emails and private messages that inevitably result. There was a time when severe negative feedback truly disheartened me, and part of that’s just my very nature. I shouldn’t care what people think, but I do. The pinnacle of that depression came last year when my reviews of Blue Dragon, Lair, and Metroid Prime 3 were published in the same week, with scores of 6.0, 4.5, and 8.5, respectively. I literally received death threats, and the whole thing floored me. I expected negativity, but I don’t think I expected that kind of vehemence.
It’s more funny to me than anything else now, particularly because the fanboy blindness gets remarkably transparent. I certainly want to know if I have made a factual error, but the accusations become silly because they’re so baseless. Today, in particular, made me laugh, because someone responded in my GameSpot blog that he will be embarking on a crusade to spread the word of my anti-Xbox bias (an unusual one, because all too often we get accused of the opposite). Another sent me a note that he was leaving GameSpot because of my unreliable reviews, though his forum signature betrayed him as a No More Heroes fan–which leads me to believe that perhaps he appreciated the 9.0 that game received. Yes indeed, gamers are a fickle bunch. I don’t so much care about this kind of feedback anymore as much as I weed through the shit for something useful. If there are actual errors or contradictions, I need to know. Thankfully, the accusations are almost solely off-base rants from people who have decided upon a game’s deserved score before ever playing it, or use scores from other sites as some kind of proof of bias or lack of qualification.
But inevitably there come the accusations that I dislike RPGs, particularly Japanese RPGs. It’s a silly notion, honestly. After all, I lobbied heavily for Persona 3 to win RPG of the year at the site, and it was one of my favorite games all year. It’s the typical “shoot the messenger” tactic, and I’d be interested to know if movie and music reviewers encounter the same stupidity. In reality, I adore role-playing games, of both the Japanese and the western varieties, but JRPG fans are a strong-willed bunch. The thing is, Lost Odyssey is a good game–and a flawed one. Its best aspects are peripheral ones–unlocked memories, choice bits of dialogue, minor gameplay variants like aim rings and other minor tweaks that make it, generally, enjoyable.
But there is so much room to grow, and it’s a shame that so many gamers are happy to be spoon-fed unevolving gameplay mechanics, particularly when games like Eternal Sonata, Persona 3, and Jeanne d’Arc are paving the way to what I hope is a truly new generation of role-playing games. I can’t always pretend to understand why people continue to plunk down hard-earned dollars (or hard-earned dollars handed over by their parents) on games that ignore a decade worth of evolution, with Blue Dragon sticking out clearly in my mind. I don’t think Blue Dragon is a bad game, but it’s mired deeply in the past, and I can’t help think that if this hadn’t been a game created by such a respected team–and had it been made for a dwindling platform, like the PS2–it wouldn’t have been so well-regarded by so many.
Of course, Lost Odyssey is noticeably better than Blue Dragon. Yes, it looks into the distant past (at least, distant in gaming terms) for its inspirations, but the end result is a little tighter than Blue Dragon and features far better characters. But isn’t it a bit disappointing that the JRPG featuring the most evolved gameplay in the last year is for the PlayStation 2? In fact, I can name any number of PS2 RPGs that took more chances than any on the supposed next-gen platforms (Wild Arms 4/5, Persona 3, Nocturne, Shadow Hearts, Rogue Galaxy, Xenosaga 1-3, Dark Cloud 2, Suikoden 3, etc…), yet with games like that raising the bar, why does the general standard never seem to rise? I am not sure if it’s a matter of comfort, a willingness to overlook a lack of originality in lieu of the same old teen-saves-the-fantasy-world story, or if fans of the genre are simply more inclined to love any game classified as such, regardless of its quality.
It’s because I love RPGs that I expect something more than the same thing from every game. I want so desperately for something new to emerge and truly capture our hearts–another Final Fantasy VII, another Dragon Quest VIII, another Chrono Cross. Yet even when such a game appears, the whole genre seems to eventually collapse and return to its comfort zone. Why are we ok with that? With other genres doing truly new, fun things (and yes, this is why I think games like No More Heroes and Assassin’s Creed deserve kudos), why shouldn’t JRPG’s? Why do I have to look to five-year-old PlayStation 2 games when I want different, interesting features, when I have three current-gen consoles sitting in my bedroom?
I don’t think games need to do something new to be good, so don’t take this to mean that a game has to be innovative to be worth playing. Some of my favorite games of 2007–Command & Conquer 3, Ninja Gaiden Sigma, RE4 Wii Edition–were great because they were shitloads of fun. And yes, Lost Odyssey is worth playing, even if it liberally borrows from other games at the expense of anything new. But last year, I cried out to PC gamers not to let shit be shoveled into their mouths in the form of bad console ports (Capcom, you should be ashamed of your disrespectful PC ports of Onimusha 3, RE4, Lost Planet, and others), and now, I send out a heartfelt plea to stodgy JRPG fans that layer love onto any game in the genre with abandon: expect more.