A nice item but there's really no new information....
As a Mega Man fan, to say the last year has been easy would be a lie. I saw the light at the end of a ten year-long tunnel snatched away from me in the form of Mega Man Legends 3 (a game I would have bought the 3DS for but a BIG part of that is Nintendo's fault) and Capcom's decision to shelve the series out of what appears be spite for Kenji Inafune's insanely bizarre exit. Crazy as the last one truly was, I'm probably the only "fan" that's quote unquote happy Capcom pulled the plug. What was the last great Mega Man game? 1997's Mega Man X4? The last few Mega Man X games? A painful slap in the face. So while I'm sure some are angry with me now missing out on Legends 3 is a small price to pay to ensure that developer Inti doesn't ever get near the license again. Okay, I'll admit Inti had some good composers in their ranks but that's as far as I'll go. Anyway, like most people I put in my pre-order for this thing over a year ago. The e-mails declaring it's delay almost became a running gag. So now we have the book and while it's a great companion piece to the Complete Works books I'm afraid I'm going to be a little bit critical with this one. Why? Well, my main gripe is the fact I already know everything this book had to tell me outside a one new factoid about Top Man. Beyond that I've read all the information that's in here on various websites. Yeah, I'll admit it's nice to have it on hand in book form but I was honestly hoping for some previously unreleased info. What's here is mainly taken from Mega Man and Bass which people have already translated from emulated ROM images years ago. Another thing that somewhat bugs me is the guide's lack of explanation. For example, the book tells you that Flame Man changes his oil three times a day but it doesn't tell you what this behavior refers to in the real world (although anyone that's taken a World Cultures class in their high school days should have an honest clue) but younger players/readers may not make the connection. That said, the Robot Master Field Guide is a nice book but it doesn't even begin to challenge either Complete Works book. I would definitely suggest grabbing those first if you haven't already. But in all honesty the nicest thing I can say about this is book is the price is right. Overall Score: 7/10
Final Fantasy. It’s a title that is often referred to when it comes to role-playing games. As rosy as my memories are of entries like Final Fantasy VI and VII it does little to remove the sting of where things stand now; an era were mass proliferation has turned this hallmark of a series into a walking, talking punch line. Really, I can’t be the only one who misses the days when there was one Final Fantasy title every two to three years. The games that came out of those uncongested waits were usually worth their weight in gold. But alas, business is business and failure (in the form of Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within) is failure so we’re all reminded that artistic vision always yields before the almighty dollar – or in this case yen.
That said, most of use are still drawn to some of SquareEnix’s offerings despite the fact that some of them are games we’ve already played a million and a half times. Another version of Final Fantasy IV? That makes me somewhat nauseated – but gimme! It’s truly sad what creatures of habit gamers are and how companies bank on that but this is what almost kept me away from Final Fantasy: The 4 Heroes of Light. So how did I end up playing this title nestled among the endless parade of Final Fantasy titles? Well, it all started with Matrix’s Final Fantasy III remake. With Final Fantasy III being the only Final Fantasy prior to Final Fantasy X I hadn’t played and completed (X being my cut off point for things Final Fantasy) I wanted to give it a whirl and call it case closed on Final Fantasy. Little did I know that Final Fantasy III wasn’t the end but a new beginning….
Poetic as that sounds, Final Fantasy’s new life would not come easy. Truth be told, my first ten hours with Final Fantasy III only served to remind me that we move on from things every now and then for reasons that are more than clear. However, things would turn around in the last twenty hours were the game not only mended the bridge it almost burned but would aid in the construction of another. So with III’s notch on my Final Fantasy belt I set out for a new bounty to hunt but was interested in the other products Matrix had worked on. This - and the fact the local Game X-Change had a used copy of the Brady Games Strategy Guide - eventually lead me to The 4 Heroes of Light.
Like most new and unfamiliar products, I was a little hesitant to start the 4 Heroes of Light. This wasn’t like Final Fantasy III where I was half familiar with what the game offered before playing. No, this was a completely new ballgame. Sure, I had a strategy guide in tow but it was still touch and go for a while. Did I like the game? Was I enjoying it despite its older playing style? These were the questions on my mind. Things did become clearer the further I got as did the frequency at which I played, but there were still some unresolved feelings I had as I inched towards the end. What would the final verdict be? Would I go easy on it or would I be blunt? Was this a good game? A bad game? A lousy game? The answers where there and the final decision would prove to be more than interesting.
So upon defeating the evil being at the center of the darkness, I sat down to write about my experience. I actually had a lot to say but I think a lot of it was lost in translation between likes, dislikes and general indecisiveness. In the end I was both kind and harsh on The 4 Heroes of Light, pointing out the game was rather flawed and tried to be something special when it clearly wasn’t. I gave it a six out of ten. Now, in today’s world of internet reviews a lot of people see a six out of ten and automatically think the game is a failure. Sixty percent may be a failing grade on a school paper but this really isn’t the case elsewhere. Still, despite what my final score implied, I came out and stated that I really liked The 4 Heroes of Light. However, little did I know how much I had enjoyed it. It wasn’t until I had moved on to some other games (the DS Castlevanias) that the game’s hold on me became apparent.
What does all of this have to do with Naoshi Mizuta’s score for The 4 Heroes of Light? Lots. Actually, everything because when you get right down to it Mizuta’s music was the first thing I noticed about the game and – ironically – was the first element I wrote about when reviewing it. Unfortunately, while that last sentence paints a pretty picture (hey, he must have liked it if he was eager to talk about it) that’s far from the case. In reality I started off with a dose of negativity when covering the game. But while several things in the game run afoul, why are the music’s flaws so noticeable and if it’s the case why on earth did I buy the soundtrack? Rest assured there are answers to those questions, but they are buried underneath the enigma that is The 4 Heroes of Light.
So what’s wrong with the music? Well, my initial retort to that would be “what isn’t wrong” but I don’t want to use such an overused copout. Still, when getting down to the nitty-gritty, there’s only one track (or theme) you really need to take a look at to get the ball rolling and is of the utmost importance. What theme am I referring to? The main theme! Listening to this thing I can’t get over how work-a-day and phoned-in its emotional context really is. It’s quite extraordinary how far this piece falls when compared to a main theme with substance. I know not everything can be/will be as moving as “Tina’s Theme” from Final Fantasy VI or the infamous Prelude but come on; a piece with a purpose such as this HAS to be more viable than this. You want to know what’s even crazier? The fact that it actually works. Listing to this piece out of context I can easily see it as the underdeveloped entity it is but for some reason once you add the game to the mix its problems seem a lot less detrimental.
And that in a nutshell summarizes a lot of the music in The 4 Heroes of Light. Mizuta’s ability to compose is truly second rate (and is well below average for someone hailing from Square’s closet of talent) and his work is literally rescued by every other element of the game – flawed as they may be. Mizuta’s town themes, which prove one with the most satisfying sub-section of the soundtrack, are proof of this. Okay, I guess one could say tracks like “Urbeth, City of Merchants” and “Arbor, Forbidden Land” have a symbiotic relationship with their context but those relationships are HARDLY equal as context was a key component when tracks like “Cursed Town” and “Heavenly Spelvia” made their impression of me. Take away that resource and who’s to say if they would have had the same effect or would have been noticed. This is why I believe Mizuta owes a round to everyone else who worked on the game; there are other weak elements but Mizuta’s soundtrack is arguably the weakest. Remove the canvas and all you have is gobs of paint – something other soundtrack are far from being.
As instrumental as the game is in bringing Mizuta’s creations to life, the soundtrack has a few extra bells and whistles to take note of. With this bring the score to a DS game it should surprise no one that things sound a bit different with the music coming out off a CD as apposed to the DS speakers. As delightful as it may sound to hear the audio in an enhanced light, the music of 4 Heroes wages a war against echo, depth and reverb that leaves a few casualties along the way. Personally I wish the audio was a little more in line with what I heard from the handheld considering those are the renditions I came to love but the final grade really depends on which track one’s talking about. Pivotal tracks like the aforementioned “Heavenly Spelvia” are untouched form their in-game performance as is the dead-pan despair of “Cursed Town” which is unfortunately overused in the game. (The score suffers from an intense need to be larger than it is.) Things start to go a bit South when the additional depth comes across in “Urbeth, City of Merchants” but the crap REALLY hits the fan when the battle theme fanfare comes up to bat. Someone was obviously asleep at the mixing knobs on this one. The beats are so deep that I can’t call it anything but an error in mastering; the balance is so off it’s not really a case of what kind of set up your playing it on – it’s going to sound horrible regardless.
CONCLUSION:
I’m sure some readers are wondering how this soundtrack, with all the negatives listed above, ended up in my collection. Again, there is no easy answer. All I can say is I love the tracks I love and the crap isn’t enough to detract from them. Additionally, I have to reiterate how lucky a man Mizuta is that the game has enough charm to it despite it’s simplicity to cover his failures when it comes to sound. In the end my score is pretty much aligned with what I gave the game as a whole, but I’m willing to give the game a much greater head start when it comes to the benefit of the doubt. It’s that benefit that Mizuta should pray for when it comes to listeners adopting The 4 Heroes into their music library because when it comes to artistic quality this is one soundtrack that is far from resilient despite having it’s moments.
When it comes to video games, it’s safe to say that a game succeeds or fails because of its “elements.” No, I’m not talking about wind, earth, water and fire but the various areas that comprise a game. Of course there’s graphics, an area that’s been pushed to the point of near photorealism in recent years and then there’s that all-important specter known as gameplay that most often decides if a game is worth the disc it’s encoded on. However, depending on who you talk to, you’ll often hear different opinions on which element is the most important. Debate is part of what makes gaming so great and as long as there are games there’ll be no end to the discussion and argument as to which ones are worth our time and which ones aren’t.
That said there are some elements that are for most intensive purposes considered secondary. For example, while some would probably disagree, graphics are (and somewhat should) come after gameplay. I’ll admit I like my games to look good but I’m not going to stick with a game if it contains the same amount of engagement one gets from fiddling around with a toilet paper tube. There are different ways to attract gamers and the same can be said about video game music. Video game music (VGM) is an element that knows what it means to be secondary. Actually, one of my favorite things to do when someone’s talking up a storm about a game’s gameplay is to ask them how the music is. In doing this, you can usually tell if a player is fixated solely on the gameplay or is taking in things as a whole. The sad part of the equation is how many people lack an answer to that kind of question and seem to ignore a part of the experience that’s intended to draw them in even more.
As if that last paragraph wasn’t a big enough indicator, it’s safe to say all those reading now know how important video game music is to me. Really, I knew this the moment I heard the opening tones of NES games like Mega Man 2 and Ninja Gaiden II: The Dark Sword of Chaos. There’s a seemingly endless sea of VGM out there and I wanted to celebrate its rich history with a top ten list. However, I didn’t want to do something as banal as recapping popular scores people are already familiar with; I think everyone knows works like Final Fantasy VI and Xenogears are worth their soundtrack purchases. No, this list tackles ten scores that are lurking under-the-radar and deserve a second look by music fans. This does not mean they are perfect – in reality some of them are extremely flawed – but that does not mean that they can’t be appreciated by those with an open mind a little forgiveness. So without further delay here are my top ten under-the-radar video game soundtracks:
10. Final Fantasy: The 4 Heroes of Light As detrimental as it may seem for the beginning of any kind of list, I want to start things off with a soundtrack that ends up working solely because of the elements around it, a - for the lack of a better term - “charity case.” When one’s looking at a product like Final Fantasy: The 4 Heroes of Light, it’s not hard to start off with a dose of negativity. In all honesty, the Final Fantasy namesake use to bring with it a lot more respect than it does now post-merger and that has a lot to do with SquareEnix’s eagerness to slap it on anything the comes down the pike. Seriously, a mere ten minutes of Ring of Fates and its whole “you can do anything if you believe in yourself” crap and I was done. Disheartening as this has become, I’m willing to give them a break on 4 Heroes because, deep down, I think it’s a good product. In fact, few modern or current generation games have captured my heart the way it has, but this doesn’t mean the individual aspects of the game shine. No. The 4 Heroes of Light is a case where one element aids another and - with everything working in tandem – supports the structure that is the game. However, there are some elements that are “needier” than others, and the one aspect that truly fills these shoes is Naoshi Mizuta’s music. I don’t think I’ve ever run into a soundtrack that’s this befitting and this uninspired; it’s like a paradox that tears apart space and time. Sure, I love tracks like “Heavenly Spelvia” and “Cursed Town” for what they bring to the table but at the same time I got to be honest about the whole thing. Out of the massive amount of talent that is (or has been) a part of the delectable treat that is Squaresoft/SquareEnix music, Mizuta is can be found at the bottom of the list. In fact, Nobuo Uematsu has a higher level of musical capability than this on a bad bay or year. Yeah, that’s pretty harsh considering the fact I’m trying to recommend this score, but one look at his track record (Parasite Eve 2??? Granted anyone who followed Yoko Shimomura's work on the first game was bound to fail….) and it’s all the evidence you need. Heck, even some of his work here proves that. WHOEVER thought it was a good idea for the battle music to change when an ally’s hit points are low needs to be SEVERELY PUNISHED. Still, second rate as it all is in reality, the rest of the game gives Mizuta’s score enough of a canvas to seem worthwhile and perhaps that’s the greatest complement I can pay the game as a whole. As big of a copout as that may seem to shoehorn this soundtrack onto the list, all I can do is promise that the remaining nine picks contain a bit more merit than this one.
The Bottom Line: Again, I haven’t done a particularly good job of defending this score considering the fact I’m trying to recommend it, but when one is talking about the music in The 4 Heroes of Light the situation requires a heaping helping of honesty. There have been several things I’ve lied to myself about video game music (like when I supposedly liked Michiko Naruke’s work on the Wild Arms Advanced 3rd Soundtrack when I didn’t) but over the years I’ve come to learn that false facades are always knocked down regardless of how the strong the initial illusion is. So given that, the real question about Mizuta’s work is whether or not you need to play the game to appreciate it. Well, it should hardly be a surprise that the game was instrumental in my decision to purchase the soundtrack, but that’s not saying it’s inaccessible otherwise. The best advice I can give is give it a shot but to tread ever so lightly.
Fun Facts: To be honest (I really need to cut that honesty crap out) I didn’t have anything to write for this section until I got my copy of the soundtrack in the mail. One listen later and I have something to say; something most video game music fans with Nintendo DS soundtracks already know. That thing? Oftentimes the music for DS games sounds different coming off a CD than it does coming out of the DS speakers. Whatever causes this phenomena – the manner of conveyance, additional remastering or recording the material to disc prior to programming it for use in the game – is unknown, but it does have its ups and downs. Some tracks have added depth and more prominent instruments yet this slingshots back in the face of certain tracks like the victory theme which would probably sound terrible regardless of whatever kind of setup you played the soundtrack on.
9. The Legend of Dragoon Oh boy… here’s a selection where I’m going to have to tiptoe around. For most intensive purposes I’m not a fan of The Legend of Dragoon - and no, I’m not a Final Fantasy VII fanboy either. For a game that had a pretty snazzy graphics engine (none of which it could seem to spend on giving normal enemies a few more polys) it’s amazing how every element of this game takes an eventual hit right on the chin. Story? Look no further than the one villain for a tedious, overused plot device. Writing? I’ll give them some slack since RPGs from the era are rife with translation issues but it was still a new low for the time. Gameplay? Can’t say doing additions all day was my definition of “fun” back in 2000. Still, if I were to pick one flawed aspect of Legend of Dragoon to highlight, it would be the music. Why highlight a “flawed” element? It’s hard to explain how, but the music of Dennis Martin and Takeo Miratsu somehow got its hooks in me. As clear as Martin and Miratsu’s (M&M’s) inexperience with crafting music for the genre really is (translation: you won’t be knocking down any doors to buy this soundtrack) there are moments where this score works when it shouldn’t. One key area that reviewers love to tackle are the character themes. I can completely agree in berating Zieg and Lloyd’s themes for the pieces of trash they are, but Dart and Meru’s themes aren’t bad because they’re unorthodox for a role playing game. Actually, in a roundabout way, that’s why they work. Even better are Miratsu’s battle themes with their rough application of rock and techno. I must have heard these tracks a million times throughout the course of the game yet their impact on me did not become clear to me until a decade later. Even better are how these themes are presented on the soundtrack with the battle theme and its respective fanfare being combined into a single track. It’s amazing how something so simple works out so well in the end.
The Bottom Line: As bright of a picture as I try to paint, there is still a lot of undesirable material to work around on The Legend of Dragoon Original Soundtrack. Additionally, as if the above wasn’t a big enough of a clue, Martin and Miratsu are not on even ground here; Miratsu’s work easily takes precedence over most of Martin’s despite the fact he has a moment or two. If I could make any suggestion, it would be not to go into this soundtrack completely blind or with high expectations. Not exactly a ringing endorsement per say but don’t let that scare you away.
Fun Facts: The Legend of Dragoon Original Soundtrack is another product of SPE Visual Works, the publisher that shortchanged the Wild Arms 2nd Ignition Soundtrack and cut the releases for the original Wild Arms and Legend of Legaia in half. As it stands, Legend of Dragoon shares the same fate with only a portion of the full score being available on an official licensed CD. An even crazier aspect of the score is the tendency certain tracks have of sounding like they could have come from (or were inspired by) Michiru Oshima’s work on The Legend of Legaia - another Sony product.
Sad Fact: Takeo Miratsu passed away from liver cancer in 2006 at the age of 46.
8. Wild Arms 2 Many gamers, including myself, fell in love with Michiko Naruke’s work the minute they booted up the original Wild Arms back in 1997. There was something that was simply charming about Naruke’s themes and they quickly proved that a good video game score didn’t exactly have to hold a monopoly on compositional prowess to make an impact. Given that the soundtrack remains a highlight among the games released during the PlayStation era, it goes without saying that hopes were high for Wild Arms 2 three years later. What we got in the end depends on who you’re talking to. To some, the music in Wild Arms 2 is a textbook example of a composer slogging through a sophomore slump, yet to others it’s a more than engaging follow-up. My take? As much as I love the Wild Arms 2nd Ignition Original Soundtrack (despite the fact that publishers got cheap and only allowed each track to play through once before the fade) even I have to admit this is one hell of a conflicted creation – this despite the twenty-one thousand, six hundred thirty-four words I wrote defending what is essentially a potluck of ideas that succeed and fail with little rhyme or reason. That said it’s hardly surprising that the soundtrack shares the same fate as the game itself, a game that was pretty much lost within the massive influx of role-playing titles available at the time. Still, despite the duds (the normal boss theme is simply atrocious) don’t dismiss it until you give it a proper listen – the gems can prove quite resilient even when backed into a corner.
The Bottom Line: While the list of compositional infractions committed by Naruke is at least a mile long, a lot of the music in Wild Arms 2 lives and dies through it’s usage of “familiarity.” If a track uses motif that’s related to it’s context (like using a harmonica in a dungeon theme that plays in a mine containing mine cart rides) that song will either a) work like a charm because it is so befitting or, more likely, b) fall out of the sky dead because it is so unimaginative and completely disposable. Unfortunately, Naruke seems to hit as much as she misses in this respect, meaning you’re going to have to sift though a lot of material to get to the gold.
Fun Fact: Despite boasting one hundred and six tracks over two discs (*grumble – should have been three discs - grumble*) the soundtrack does not include all the music used in the game. Missing in action is the music for the File Viewer. Additionally, there is “You’re not Alone…,” a track that is used nowhere in the game or even present in the music data of either game disc.
7. Xenosaga Episode II (Movie Scene Score) This spot was going to go to Yuko’s Takehara’s work on Breath of Fire II, but upon listening to a mixed CD of video game music in my car I decided I had bigger fish to fry. Why the odd statement? When it comes to the second installment of the Xenosaga franchise I pretty much agree with the status quo; the game was a HUGE bust that failed in length, voice acting and pretty much everything else. However, my distain stops short of Yuki Kajiura’s scene soundtrack. I’ll admit her vocal numbers are a little unorthodox (especially the ones that are centered on Jr.) but it’s not like Yasunori Mitsuda set the bar real high with “Pain” and “Kokoro” (i.e. any song that uses the word “rant” seriously probably suffers from more translation issues than you can shake a stick at). But really, while I can’t get enough of a track like the excellent “chase” I have to admit I get tired of the endless praise Mitsuda’s work on the first Xenosaga receives and how it’s the main tool in tearing down Kajiura’s effort. I don’t flat-out dislike the music of Der Wille zur Macht, yet I can completely pass on the entire soundtrack save for a few instant classics like “Fighting KOS-MOS” and “Last Battle.” That’s it. You can keep your “Gnosis” and “Albedo” - I don’t want them. The fact that the back of the game’s case boasts the music is performed by the London Philharmonic Orchestra doesn’t impress me either. Games these days (especially games from western developers) over rely on orchestration (and licensed music) and Mitsuda did more - much more – with the Xenogears soundtrack, which made incredible use the powerful yet limited PlayStation sound synthesizer. Not even reading about the adversity Mitsuda faced as he arranged his music for orchestration captures my heart. I’d give the score to Chrono Trigger much more respect than Xenosaga, and Chrono Trigger’s music, while nice, is a great example of when nostalgia overshadows the underlying value of the work being judged. Yet, could the previously mentioned force known as nostalgia be the cause of my Mitsuda-saga block? Given how scene intensive the first game is, it’s not hard to see how dungeon and battle themes got the shaft. These overlooked areas are usually of great importance to me when it comes to liking or disliking a J-RPG soundtrack. Scene themes generally become second tier because of their reliance on context. Could Xenosaga’s focus on these kinds of themes have hurt it in my subconscious? Possibly, but I find it odd how I could love a tragic character like Andrew Cherenkov and be less than concerned about the music in the background.
The Bottom Line: While I’ve obviously spent more time attacking Mitsuda’s work than I did selling or defending Kajiura’s, the difference in quality between these scores isn’t a great as some people would have you believe. Again, if I was going to pick a soundtrack of Mitsuda’s to champion it would be Xenogears followed by Chrono Cross which are ironically the best things those games have to offer. (Waits for the incoming hate mail….) Still, I think Jenseits von Gut und Bose’s music is the best thing the game has to offer and that’s something the game has no problem proving with its myriad of problems.
Fun Facts: You may have noticed that this take on Xenosaga II’s music focused on scene selections. That’s no mistake as that is the only portion of the soundtrack that has received an official release. The other half of the game’s music – essentials like battle and dungeon themes – remains unreleased. These tracks by the famed Shinji Hosoe have developed a cult following among video game music fans despite their fate. Hosoe himself has expressed an interest in releasing this music in album form but has admitted that the red tape and rights acquisition continue to make it very unlikely.
6. Mega Man X Command Mission I Love But Hate. This peculiar statement (which also doubles as the translation of a song title on the Wild Arms Alter code:F Original Score) perfectly describes my relationship with Capcom’s Shinya “Midnight/Love Shop” Okada – a man who believes that nicknames grow on trees. So what’s my deal with Mr. Okada? Why do I love/hat… dislike him? Well, it’s kind of a complicated story. Okada’s first composition credits were on the “3D will make everything better – yeah right – nightmare” that was Mega Man X7. While Okada was just one in a small handful of composers picked to compose for the game, the team churned out a decent (albeit different) original soundtrack for the game that contained its own identity. Where this runs afoul is Okada’s knack for techno flavored pieces. Rather than adhere his style to the series hard rock roots, Okada’s work is more content on declaring war on convention – a convention that fits the series like a glove. I’ve nothing against techno; I just want it to work with the other pieces on the soundtrack. So where does Mega Man X Command Mission and the “love” come in? As blunt as it may sound, Okada was one lucky son-of-a-gun for landing the lead composing job for this game. Why? First of all, I can think of a handful of composers in Capcom’s ranks (Naoto Tanaka/Akemi Kimura – Mega Man X5~X8; Toshihiko Horiyama - Mega Man X4; Shusaku Uchiyama – Mega Man 8) that this job could have gone to and second, Capcom gave Okada the blankest check they possibly could. A Mega Man RPG? No one had ANY idea what it was meant or destined to sound like. So with all preconceptions out the window, Okada cashed the check faster than a kid in a candy store and drenched the canvas with his style. Do I blame him? No, I’m sure anyone given that chance would do the same. But still, it’s not like the man had a hard act to follow. So what are the end results? Even though I kind of hate to admit it, Okada is capable of some fine work when he doesn’t have to bump elbows with others. The best moments can be heard in the character themes, the only thing that brings the game’s new and otherwise disposable characters to life. Impressive as that is, its buried treasure like submissive “Unknown Energy” that prove the album’s worth.
The Bottom Line: Like most of the soundtracks on this list, it’s hardly surprising that there’s something that holds back the music of Mega Man X Command Mission and keeps me from giving it an unconditional recommendation. That thing is a more than noticeable lack of depth and development. A sizable portion of Okada’s work is short, sweet and to the point leaving little to the imagination. In fact, some tracks are so short and repetitive listeners may be turned off without some context to chew on. Damaging as this may seem, it’s nothing a quick tromp though an inexpensive and otherwise decent Final Fantasy X clone can’t fix.
Fun Fact: While remixes of old themes are nothing new to Mega Man X series (see Mega Man X5 and X6) Shinya Okada is the only composer who has reworked his own work. One of Mega Man X7’s scene themes (“Revealing”) reappears with some additional perks as a dungeon theme (“Land of Oblivion”) within the first half-hour of Command Mission’s campaign.
5. Star Gladiator Rumored to have been initially developed as a Star Wars game, Star Gladiator is a game that knows what it means to be unappreciated. I can see why a game with such an odd cast of characters never really caught fire (although it did spawn a rather lackluster sequel with a bunch of lame roster additions in 1999) but for a title that’s this well crafted – and makes a wonderful companion piece to 1997’s Soul Blade, the game most consider the penultimate weapon-based fighter on the PlayStation with it’s excellent and infuriating Edge Master mode – Star Gladiator deserves more respect than it receives. The same can really be said of the game’s music composers, or at least one of them: Yuko Takehara. Again, Takehara didn’t compose all the game’s music by herself (she was accompanied by Isao Abe of Street Fighter fame) but a lot of the games Yuko ends up composing for – Mega Man 6, Breath of Fire II – are known but ultimately understated. That said, there’s an interesting story behind the audio of Star Gladiator. The original arcade score, which is available on a fully-licensed CD, is a bit underpowered due to the sound capabilities of the ZN-1 arcade board. The ZN-1 arcade board is unique because it’s very similar, from a graphical standpoint, to the hardware within the original PlayStation. As such, the game was a perfect fit for the console and when one looks at the game in action this is not hard to believe. Still, Capcom would shake things up in the sound department for this port. When it comes to their arcade hits, Capcom is usually aware if the native sound capabilities are up to snuff for the consoles or not. In the case of Star Gladiator the quality of the original audio left something to desired, so they re-recorded the soundtrack to take advantage of the PlayStation’s capabilities. The result? While Takehara and Abe’s darker numbers gain little from the upgrade, there are others that make out like bandits. No longer do the notes in June’s theme trip over one another and the classic Capcom rock-fest that is Zelkin’s theme feels a lot less hesitant and restrained – an essential quality for a piece of music that plays when battling a proud and enigmatic being aboard an aircraft carrier.
The Bottom Line: To be honest, there isn’t much holding back the enhanced audio of Star Gladiator. Sure, the ending themes don’t have much ground to stand on outside their given context but the stage themes have more than enough clout to make up for it. The score deserves to be remembered along with other great fighting game soundtracks like Soul Blade’s original arcade audio. In some ways it may pale when put up against Soul Blade’s alternate, console-exclusive arranged soundtrack Khan Super Session but then most things would fall behind something of that caliber.
Fun Fact: As impressive as Star Gladiator’s PlayStation audio is, it gets even better. If you buy a copy of the game (which goes for a measly ten to fifteen dollars on most auction sites) you automatically gain access to an out-of-game version of the soundtrack. Pop the game disc into any CD player (skipping the first track which, according to Alucard from Symphony of the Night, contains “computer data”) and you can listen to Takehara and Abe’s music at your leisure. There are plenty of other PlayStation games you can do this with as well, one of the most notable being Tomb Raider.
4. Final Doom: TNT Evolution In a certain sense I’m somewhat hesitant to write this entry. First person shooters are NOT my thing and the over-proliferation of titles that currently fit into the genre these days is simply insane. I get it – shooting at stuff must be fun – but what really gets under my skin are players that fail to investigate where these games came from. Someone didn’t wake up one morning and make Halo from scratch – something had to come before it. Enter Doom, a game that has been somewhat forgotten (and has acquired a case of cooties if the puzzled looks I see when I bring it up in conversation are any indication) despite its impact on the industry. Annoying as that may be, there is little doubt how important Robert Prince’ themes were to the Doom phenomena (and how their remastered counterparts on the SNES were the only thing saving that port from being nothing but scrap) Prince’s work isn’t really low enough on the appreciation scale to qualify for this list. However, Prince’s work is an excellent introduction to the members of Team TNT (Josh Martel, Jonathan El-Bizri, Tom Mustaine and L.A. Sieben) who composed the original score to the TNT Evolution episode of Final Doom. These tunes contain a feel and texture that initially suggests Prince’s involvement; it’s amazing how such a small handful of people (who were also responsible for level design) could carry on the series' style with such success. The only problem? Some of the details surrounding the score have been lost over the years (like the individual composition credits) but sites like DoomWiki have uncovered the titles of these classic compositions.
The Bottom Line: The only real hitch with TNT Evolution’s soundtrack is that it’s MIDI-based. Regardless of the quality contained within its compositions there are those who will overlook it or look down on it for that fact alone. Primitive as this sound spectrum is, it follows in the footsteps of Doom II in that the programming is more in tune with the ins-and-outs of the format meaning the score is more polished (no underpowered or out of place samples) than what Prince whipped up for the original. Furthermore, TNT Evolution pulls ahead by presenting some stylistic anomalies like the laid back chill heard in “Cold Subtleness” that brings a subdued pulse of life to the cold and cryptic steel works.
Fun Fact: Using the original executables for Final Doom (which I don’t suggest unless you wish to encounter game-save corrupting vis plane overflows) it’s impossible to hear “Smells Like Burning Corpse” in it’s entirety. An error prevents a part of the MIDI from playing during gameplay. Updated source ports (like ZDoom) allow the track to play as intended.
3. Mega Man Legends Brace yourself! There are going to be some fighting words in here. Okay, with the warning out of the way, I’ll just come out and say I’m a HUGE fan of the Mega Man Legends series. What? You say they aren’t “true” Mega Man games? I don’t care. Why are they any less of a Mega Man game… because they’re in 3D? Guess that means that Mega Man X7 isn’t one either (although it would be nice if THAT were true). Is it because they have light RPG elements? Then I guess Symphony of the Night isn’t a real Castlevania game. I could go on but you get the point. The other thing I want to lay out on the table that will be “somewhat controversial” is that Mega Man Legends was my Mario 64. Seriously. I’ve never played Mario 64 beyond the demo that was at the local Sears when I was a kid and I’ve come to the realization that I don’t really need to go back and play it. Now, I’m not saying that Legends is superior or even equal to Mario 64 – one’s a system seller and the other isn’t – but Legends was able to fill the gap because both games are successful in bringing the quintessential Sunday morning cartoon to life. So what does this have to do with the music? Lots. You see, the music of Mega Man Legends isn’t just underrated, it’s also suffers from a severe case of misrepresentation. The prime example of this that I’ve found is in September 1998 issue of GamePro where Major Mike states the music “mostly consists of really schmaltzy elevator tunes.” I don’t know how you can take the entire body of work Makoto Tomozawa created for the game and shove it under a sole paradigm like that. There are a multitude of different tracks (moods) at play within the music of Mega Man Legends. There’s the “schmaltzy elevator tunes” for towns, the cryptic and eerie pieces in ruins during digs, bombastic and fear-mongering themes for reaverbots and bold and triumphant numbers when battling the Bonnes. Despite what GamePro’s review implies, Tomozawa’s score is hardly one-dimensional. It is instrumental in bringing the aforementioned Sunday-morning feel of the game alive, and as anyone who has every gotten into a video game soundtrack will tell you, you can’t underestimate how important that is to the overall experience that is a video game.
The Bottom Line: As much as I could continue to gush over the music of Mega Man Legends, there are some aspects to Tomozawa’s work that bear mentioning. The first is despite how appropriate the reaverbot themes are in practice, they aren’t the most welcoming pieces of music you’ll hear when taken out of context – especially when they are put up against the fun and exhilarating tracks used for the Bonne’s German-themed battle machines. The second, which isn’t as detrimental as you may think, is the synthesizer quality – or rather synthesizer implementation. Many of the instruments used throughout the game’s score (e.g. percussion) are a lot more reserved than what may seem appropriate. However, this restrained feel or “hesitation” is something several key tracks use to their advantage when depicting the action on the screen. Simply put, Mega Man Legends’ music is a lot deeper than people are willing to admit.
Fun Facts: Oh boy… where to begin. Well, for one thing, if it wasn’t for the well-timed formation of Capcom’s record label Suleputer (the word “Suleputer” is the other half of “Capcom” or “Capsule Computer”) Mega Man Legends probably wouldn’t have received a soundtrack release of any kind. It’s a shame it only contains about half of the music employed in the game but we’ll take what we can get, right? Additionally, there are two versions of the soundtrack in existence: the original Japanese pressing (which is the more sought after version) and the pan-Asian, Freetron Far East print which may or may not be “legitimate.” Both versions contain the same music but because of the unanswered authenticity issues surrounding the Freeton pressing it generally goes for a fraction of what the Japanese original goes for. The Freetron Far East print is also known for its laughable Engrish tracklisting (and liner notes) that contain German Engrish (or is it Engrish German?) for the names of the various Bonne machines. Due to this attempted translation, some copies did manage to make it into US game stores around the time of the game’s release. The last interesting fact about the Mega Man Legends soundtrack is Tomozawa’s usage of classical music. The final battle theme is actually a take on Bach’s “Organ Fugue in G Minor” and there are a few pieces from Fryderyk Chopin sprinkled throughout.
2. Metroid II: Return of Samus I’m sure some are questioning what a generally beloved gaming series is doing on a list of under-the-radar gaming soundtracks. Well, the answer is easy but it has always perplexed me how Metroid II: Return of Samus falls behind its successors and predecessor in the hearts and minds of fans. I personally see the game as one of the best handheld titles you can buy (the only real problem I have with it is the fact that the Space Jump is a bit inconsistent) and deserves to be played by anyone with a few hours to spare. Granted, I can see how anything would pale in comparison to the majesty that is Super Metroid, but Metroid’s recent trouble with Team Ninja’a other M may be Metroid II’s gain. Still, it’s just not the gameplay of Return of Samus that stands against some stout, in-series competition, but it’s “music” as well. For those who are unaware, Metroid II doesn’t really have a soundtrack that’s as straightforward as Hirokazu “Hip” Tanaka’s work on the 1986 original or as timeless as Kenji Yamamoto and Minako Hamano’s work on Super. There are some continuous, melodic numbers that make an appearance in Metroid II but it’s the other side of the coin – the less talked about cerebral side that’s really of note. Poetic as it sounds, Ryohji Yoshitomi’s “music” uses silence as a tool – or better yet as a weapon. To some it may appear as if nothing is going on between the chirps and bleeps (my apologies to those in the video game music community who hate to have the object of their interest described so simplistically) but nothing could be further from the truth. These “songs” give cryptic life to the tunnels and passageways that run underneath the surface of SR388 and help portray its environment beyond the physical limits of the screen. However, this portion of the game’s score brings me to my hated of the term “ambient music.” When you get right down to it “ambient” has a somewhat of an ambiguous meaning as a word. What one person considers ambient another person may not. Anyway, as hopelessly off track as we are now, be sure to check out this “atmospheric” work if you have the chance; it’s not the most engaging soundtrack you’re bound to come across but it definitely accomplishes its goal.
The Bottom Line: Again, while music backed by melody is much more likely to be acknowledged than music that makes use of dead air, underestimate the music of Metroid II at your own loss. I’ll admit that ambient tunes generally aren’t my thing (I can appreciate what these track are meant to do but I usually think they work better in context than separated from their given game) there are times where they work well on their own. There are plenty of other games (Tomb Raider, Resident Evil 2 and Mega Man Legends) that have scores or tracks that work or are set up in similar ways.
Fun Fact: This isn’t so much a fact about Metroid II’s music as it is about Metroid II’s sound in general. If you’ve ever played Wario Land: Super Mario Land 3 some of the sound effects (like the sound made when you hit a boss or the sound the title card makes when it crash lands on the title screen) may sound familiar. The reason? Wario Land barrows heavily from Metroid II’s sound effect bank, almost to the point that is seems like a case of plagiarism. Really, it’s amazing how these sound effects take you out of the game by reminding you of Return of Samus.
1. Battle Arena Toshinden Anyone surprised? I’m sure there are some of you out there that are like “I can’t believe someone put Battle Arena Toshinden in a Top 10 List and put it at number one!” Believe it. Why Battle Arena Toshinden? Well, because a lot of people are probably sitting on this game right now, buried in some obscure corner of their bedroom closet. As true as that may be, I happen to like BAT – the first Battle Arena Toshinden – for reasons beyond it being one of the starting points in the evolution of the three-dimensional fighter. Why? What could possibly stop (vastly) superior creations like Soulblade and Star Gladiator from completely wiping it from one’s memory? It’s characters, or rather the characterization of its characters. I’m sure some folks have a smirk on their face right about now or are having a hardy laugh as they read this but I happened to love the roster in Battle Arena Toshinden. Yeah, it’s true that they’re nothing more than a bunch of cardboard cutouts that are another exercise in cloning the archetypes that were coined by Street Fighter II, but when I think of them I just see more. Kayin and Eiji are obviously Ken and Ryu (with Sho moonlighting as the elusive Akuma) but these characters aren’t alone when it comes to forging their identities. Anyone who has played the game can most likely remember the TV monitor in the background of Kayin’s stage that displayed the ongoing battle. Clever as that was at the time, Kayin’s battleground is an excellent introduction to BAT’s most enduring element: music. Makoto Mukai and Yasuhiro Nakano created something that was undeniably “Toshinden” with this score and at the end of the day you can underestimate how important it is for the soundtrack in a given product to “sell the brand.” This is why the music in Battle Arena Toshinden scores so high – even years after the fact - and it only takes a small listen to tracks like those for Eiji and Sofia to see that the music can accomplish it’s goals in it’s sleep despite the fact Mukai and Nakano don’t break the bank composition wise.
The Bottom Line: The only sizable problem with the music of Battle Arena Toshinden is that some tracks are a bit too typical for their own good. The most frequent example of this is the ethnic flair heard throughout the theme for Mondo. No one is going to say the track is inappropriate for the character but it’s a bit too easy when all things are considered. Be that as it may, if you like the music of the original Battle Arena, be sure to check out the sound for the sequel - Yasuhiro Nakano returns to the fray and offers up what may be the only saving grace for an otherwise mundane sequel.
Fun Facts: Just like Star Gladiator, if you have a copy of Battle Arena Toshinden lying around you automatically have access to an out-of-game rendition of the soundtrack. Listening to the tracks available, you may begin to wonder where track twelve is employed in the game. The crazy answer? While playing a two player game, both characters need to fight and battle as Fo for eleven consecutive matches. On the eleventh match track twelve will replace Fo’s normal theme which can be found on track six.
So there you have it, ten under-the-radar and under appreciated soundtracks just waiting to be listened to. I’ll admit some of them are from popular franchises but the ones that are aren’t really at the forefront of the minds and hearts of gamers. That said, what didn’t make the list? Well, there were a few other choices rattling around in my head but the ones you read won out. Here are the other candidates what were up for selection:
Mega Man in Dr. Wily’s Revenge: The soundtrack in Dr.Wily’s Revenge is believed to be an arranged reworking of Manami Matsumae’s music for the NES original. This theory is not unfounded (check out and compare the themes for Fire Man) yet this is a case where the “remixed” soundtrack may be better than the original. Still, with two Mega Man games making the list it was obvious why it had to go but the GameBoy still ended up with some representation with Metroid II.
Mega Man V (GB): The only original Mega Man game on the GameBoy, Mega Man V has a wonderful score that’s as colorful and moody as its cast of robot masters. But again there was enough Mega Man on the list.
Legend of Legaia: Legend of Legaia’s music is generally second rate with some tracks being so befitting that they boarder on the mundane. However, there’s one track – “The Misty Nest” – that truly defines the game’s mist generators. As true as that may be, I couldn’t put a soundtrack on the list because of a single track.
Breath of Fire II: As mentioned in the section on Xenosaga II, Breath of Fire II was intended to make an appearance and I had enough to say about it to warrant the entry. But then I listened to the right CD and had to demote it. No worries though; Takehara still made the list with her work on Star Gladiator.
Battletoads (GB): Battletoads suffers from the same issue as Legend of Legaia, namely I’d be nominating it because of one track. It’s kind of hard to turn that into an interesting paragraph.
Brave Fencer Musashi: Truly the victim of circumstance. Nothing would have made me happier than to highlight Tsuyoshi Sekito’s first outing with Squaresoft. The album fell by the wayside in the creation of this list because it had fewer ins-and-outs than the other selections. This isn’t to say I lacked anything interesting to say about it (I probably could have whipped something up with little fuss) but this score and Sekito deserve much more credit than they receive. Hopefully I can do it some justice at some point in the near future.
Twisted Metal 4: This would have been a real interesting pick because, in general, I HATE when games opt for licensed music. However, Twisted Metal 4 manages to use it in a way that really enhances the experience on the screen. Befitting as it may be, I wanted the list to focus on original scores.
Felix the Cat (NES): Yet another instance where a few key tracks almost makes me forget how bad the remainder of the score is.
Toy Story (SNES & Genesis): The problem with picking Toy Story is the fact that the entire entry would have focused on the endless comparison between the sound from the SNES and Genesis versions of the game. Yes, the sound difference makes it that big of a tossup.
Doom (SNES): Again, the music for Doom has its followers. The SNES port sports an EXCELLENT rendition of Prince’s tunes but didn’t really fit the theme of the list.
Street Fighter Alpha 2 (SNES): See SNES Doom above. This take on the Alpha 2’s soundtrack does a lot to mend the infractions of the arcade original.
Anyways, personal ratings aside, the most important thing about video game music is to have fun with it: whether it’s in context or out. Do yourself a favor and listen to some VGM today!
Castleroid. Metroidvania. It’s these two terms that have come to describe almost every Castlevania game since 1997’s Symphony of the Night. Given the success the series experienced due to this well-timed “reinvention,” it only seemed natural that the games that followed would be of a similar nature. While Castlevania titles would continue to appear in small quantities on the latest consoles (Lament of Innocence and Curse of Darkness) most Castlevania games seemed to gravitate more towards Nintendo’s handhelds, especially the Game Boy Advance and DS, which were home to three games a piece. To most Castlevania fans, such an obvious cluster of titles is a feast of grand proportions. However, as delectable as this smorgasbord may seem on paper, it’s not quite the treat you’d expect upon the first bite.
Why the bizarre and elaborate statement? Well, there’re various reasons, some of which could be easily chalked up to the age old adage of “diminishing returns” but it’s hardly that simple. Simplistic and bone-dry as such a decree may be its a bit too top heavy to explain why Symphony of the Night has a presence that none of its successors can match. Still, despite the enigma I’m making it out to be, pinpointing the problem at the heart of Castlevania beyond this point is easy: level design. Level design and the lack of inspiration behind it.
Despite the fact I don’t want to add to the endless praise the title currently receives (I’d rather praise Mega Man X4 in conversation about two-dimensional sidescrollers than Symphony) there was something about Drcaula’s Castle in Symphony of the Night that was ahead of the curve; the layout was simply teaming with intelligence. This failed to be the case with just about every other game that came down the pike. Sure, there where moments in these games where that “spark” lied just below the surface, but that since of discovery never quite manifested itself into that dead-on sense of excitement we all know and love. Quite often it was plain, mundane and (in the case of Harmony of Dissonance) downright odd. While the protagonists and stories tackled by these titles were easily the more interesting half of the equation they usually lacked the necessary power to remedy the more intangible aspects of the experience.
So what does all of this have to with Portrait of Ruin? Well, pretty much everything because whether or not it wants to admit it Portrait of Ruin is included in the pot luck of titles mentioned above. Unfortunately, despite putting some unique twists on the formula at work – most of which work quite well when they’re not put under extreme pressure – it does little to fight the issues above. In fact, as refreshing as these changes are they eventually exacerbate the underlying situation.
That said the greatest disappointment in Portrait of Ruin is the level design. I guess I could feign respect for it and say it’s “well crafted” but I’ve really run out of patience for that old excuse since the Wild Arms’ series passed on. Regardless, for a game that presents some different locals (well, different as far as Castlevania’s concerned) things really go nowhere fast. I’m not against the locations presented by the portraits fighting against the grain since the storyline and the concepts fueling it allow for these set pieces; what I’m against is the game squandering the good will it built up during the first half by blatantly reusing the same themes for the second batch of portraits. The sense of déjà vu was far from appreciated and it only served to highlight the fact one’s dealing with a pale imitation of what the maps in a Castlevania should feel like.
Helping make up for this pothole is the dual character system. Blunt as it may seem, the ability to switch between two characters on the fly makes the game what it is and is ultimately the reason to check it out. It feels wonderful not to be boxed into one style of play for the duration of the game as each character proves their usefulness in key situations. Unfortunately, as high as the experience climbs due to this element of gameplay, it also signifies an area that’s best completed without your partner: boss fights. While there are a few exceptions, having two targets out in the open is just a one-way ticket to losing all your MP - a resource that’s better spent on the occasional dual crush than keeping two characters alive in a congested situation. Still, when it comes to “tag-teaming,” the pot boils over at the end of the game when the game tries to be “creative” with this and the last battles. I’ll say this right now: it’s not clever and it’s a cluster(expletive) of epic proportions.
Still, if anything is going to sell Portrait of Ruin to the unrelenting masses it’s the story. As is the case with several other games in the franchise, Portrait is far from being a stand alone title. This time around the narrative builds off 1994’s Bloodlines. Needless to say if you fan of that title and are interested in learning what happened beyond the scope of that game then your going to want to sign up for this installment. However, speaking of selling points, this is another Castlevania that refrains from using the regal-looking artwork the series is known for. Most know Konami opted for a more anime-ish style for this and Dawn of Sorrow in order to attract a younger audience to the fold. I’m not sure how successful such an approach really was, but it wasn’t quite the detriment I thought it would be.
CONCLUSION:
At the end of the day Portrait of Ruin has some cute ideas. Some of them work and some of them don’t but essentially they all end up at the same dead end. However, as I hinted towards earlier, this just doesn’t describe Portrait of Ruin; rather it pretty much sums up most of the Castlevania games that have followed in the Castleroid style. Despite the fact that I could care less about where current-gen Castlevania games are heading with their God of War-esque style and gameplay, suffice to say that I understand why the production of this “brand” of Castlevania had to come to an end. Letting go is never easy, but there are times where it becomes imperative. While it’s safe to say none of these titles ever scraped the bottom of the barrel as bad a late era, PS1 Mega Man X title, Portrait of Ruin only proves why this chapter of a beloved series needed to come to a close. May it rest in peace.
“An odd little game that tries to be something special”
Odd. It’s a word that almost describes itself. In this world there is no shortage of things that come off as odd, whether it’s the creatures that inhabit it or the creations of mankind it’s safe to say that odd is here to stay. Really, can anyone explain to me why bread is square and bologna is round? Regardless of what kind of spin one puts on it to satisfy their curiosity, we often poke fun at things that are strange because we often lack the words to define them. They’re just “odd” and that’s all there is to it.
Still, when it comes to video games – a boundless arena where one’s imagination is pretty much allowed to roam free completely uninhibited – one can’t play more than five minutes without encountering a few oddities. Some of these are self-created, like my indecisive feelings towards Final Fantasy IV. I’d love to know the reasons why this game feels so alien to me when I play it but the answers just escape me. I can’t understand my immunity towards a game that easily deserves the acclaim it has received over the years. Even crazier still is how I can embrace a flawed piece of work like Final Fantasy II. One would think that the game that was actually deemed strong enough to be localized the first time around would go down a lot smoother than one that was brought over in a late-era PS1 remake a decade later. Perplexing as the whole situation is in reality, I know the problem lies more with me than it does with either game.
Fortunately there are times where the exact opposite holds true, times where things are more attractive because they are odd. I’m sure anybody who is familiar with gaming could easily come with half a dozen with very little thought. That said, considering the point being discussed here there is only one title that fills the bill: Harmony of Dissonance. Why Castlevania: Harmony of Dissonance? Well, like Final Fantasy above the answer is far from simple but much easier to postulate. Blunt as it may seem, map design is something Castlevania has struggled with to various degrees since Symphony of the Night, the original “Castleroid.” There was something about the layout of Dracula’s Castle in that game that was brimming with intelligence, something the eventual follow-ups couldn’t tap into. While Harmony of Dissonance did little to fight this feeling, it had its own intangible x-factor, a constant sensation that something was off. This (and its strange color palette) ultimately made the game more memorable than it would have been otherwise.
So what does all of this have to do with Final Fantasy: The 4 Heroes of Light? Well, a lot because The 4 Heroes of Light is also weird game. How weird? Weird enough to make one question the fact that “Final Fantasy” is present in the title. Does Matrix’s stab at a Final Fantasy benefit from being “odd” or does it only add to the bottomless list of products that use the moniker to attract consumer attention? That’s a good a question as any….
Sights and Sounds
As odd as it may seem, the first element of Final Fantasy: The 4 Heroes of Light that made its impression on me was the music. In being a huge fan of video game music, it may have only been natural for me to focus on this aspect of the game, but in no sense is it an automatic response when taking in video-based entertainment. That said, a few hours in I was dying to know who the lead composer was. Why? Crazy as it sounds I was curious as to who could write something so fitting yet so underwhelming. It couldn’t have been Nobuo Uematsu, who even in the twilight of his career could compose circles around something this bland and serviceable. Anyway, a bit of research later I came up with the name Naoshi Mizuta, something that wasn’t too surprising given how far this game is from being a legitimate part of the series numbered continuity.
So why would I start this review by critiquing Mizuta’s work, a body of work that fails to make a name for itself? Because it exemplifies how the vast majority of elements that make up The 4 Heroes of Light work but are ultimately conflicted. Agreeable as the score is to the world it represents it has the uncanny “gift” of getting into trouble here and there. One of the best illustrations is when the music shifts in battle when one of the player’s characters is in critical condition. Considering how many RPG’s have gotten by without the employment of such a technique it’s as harsh and unnecessary as it sounds. A similar event occurs in boss fights when a boss’ hit points get low. Generally that’s a bit more useful even though it still falls into the realm of superfluous. Other issues, like the games over dependence on key tracks during the second half of the game, also take their toll and, perhaps most telling of all, is how flaccid the Dragon Harp jingle is.
The above situation applies to the game’s art direction as well. While I can’t imagine saying that character designer Akihiko Yoshida’s work is bad (it did have somewhat of a unique charm to in Final Fantasy III) it certainly leaves a lot to be desired here. For the lack of a better phrase it feels second rate and at the end of day I’d have a real hard time calling anything in The 4 Heroes of Light beautiful – drawn or rendered. If anything, it looks like a mishmash ambitions (similar and otherwise) that I’ve seen elsewhere. However, I will admit I’ve always had odd relationships with games that employ a dull color palette. Breath of Fire IV on the original PlayStation is great example; it’s washed out colors clashing with the bright colors Capcom used throughout the first three games. I can’t say the darker tones make the game less attractive when it comes to my personal hierarchy (of which Breath of Fire games are my favorite) yet the possibility exists. Another game that immediately comes to mind when presented with art of The 4 Heroes of Light is 1999’s Legend of Mana. Despite the fact that the bright and bold world presented in Legend of Mana is the exact opposite of what’s presented here, both games are obviously geared towards creating a mystical fairytale feel. Unfortunately for this game, Mana’s color palette makes it much more attractive even though it too is a conflicted creation.
Character Conundrum
The 4 Heroes of Light also runs into some trouble with its story and characterization. Most of the time the game is good at letting you know what your characters are thinking (something that’s achieved by having your characters split up when visiting towns much like a private action in Star Ocean) but there are times where the dialog seems to skip over or botch emotional extremes. For the sake of all that’s good and holy I expect a much more believable expression of grief after a plague has befallen Horne than “what the hell, at least we’re fine, screw it, let’s just leave.” Yet ironically, it’s this exact same “harshness” that fuels the characters personalities for the first half of the game and makes them a lot more interesting than they’d be otherwise. Brandt, Jusqua, Yunita and Aire are not exactly the most likeable people in world when the game opens and, oddly enough, the character introductions are very honest about that. I found something strangely genuine about that. What I enjoyed even more than that was how certain characters (especially Jusqua and Arie) bickered with one another. As silly as it sounds such interaction added a level of realism that most role-playing games tend to gleam over in favor of overall focus.
Unfortunately, like all good things this comes to an end. There’s a moment near the halfway point where the scenario takes on that typical, super-sappy “we’ve grown so much since we were last together” thing that tends to invade all role-playing games. I understand the importance of these characters putting their problems with one another behind them to focus on the tasks at hand but do they have to literally tell me that in a block of text? Having them tell me that they’ve grown – instead of showing me – only cheapens the experience and destroys the relevance of such epiphanies. Weak-kneed at this moment truly is (in all honesty it’s terrible and hard to swallow) the game does a surprisingly good job at burying it in the back of the player’s mind with some of the later revelations. Still, entertaining as some of twists end up being one will find the plot is in league with older Final Fantasies and lacks the complexity to compete with that of a full-fledged console-based title. In a certain sense I guess I’m “prettying up” what the story has to offer because in reality it doesn’t ask a whole lot of the player but then I can’t real consider it a real flaw as most handheld titles tend to be shorter and self-contained.
Fight or Flight
Whereas previous sections have focused on areas where The 4 Heroes of Light falls in line with the status quo, combat presents the player with the one area where the game manages to mix things up. Combat is a turned based affair that throws out the concept of MP in exchange for a similar yet different ability point based system. Each command or spell consumes a set amount of AP with one point being refreshed at the start of each round. Also of vast importance are battle messages, snippets of information presented on the bottom screen that gives the player the most recent data on which effects (buffs) have been activated and which ones need to be recast. Another departure is the implementation of auto targeting. Physical attacks automatically target the front row of the enemy party while spells automatically target the back.
Of all these changes the one that is most likely to strike doubt in the heart of potential players is the auto targeting. I was skeptical at first but the game handles it pretty well. I’ll admit there where times where I would have liked to have more control over what ally was resurrected or which character had their status abnormality cured but these sacrifices are ultimately necessary in making the enemy encounters in the 4 Heroes of Light as brief as possible. Why does combat need to as brief as possible? As simple and quick as combat seems at the start of the game it is quickly bogged down by commands you’ll constantly back with buffs. These “buffs” lengthen battles considerably and make combat a rather formulaic endeavor despite the vast number of choices the class system provides. There are only so many classes that can get away without self-buffing (these generally tend to be physical-oriented classes who rely on other characters and classes to do that for them) so there is no real way to depart from this style of gameplay; you’ll constantly be buffing, attacking and boosting (defending to restore AP) to fuel your offense/defense.
Another aspect affecting the game’s combat is the handoff between the first and second “worlds.” Enemies in the first world have set levels and statistics and can only be as powerful as they start out; the opposite holds true for enemies in the second world where your adversaries level up and scale with the level of the party. This means after a certain point it is senseless to try and overpower a boss solely by gaining levels. Different as this approach is, it really flies in the face of common sense, making one question why a game (and a development team) would employ such a dramatic shift in an experience system midway through a game. Why not just implement it from the beginning? Like combat itself I’ll concede it manages to work to a point, but the switch eventually plays havoc with the accuracy of certain classes, creating a slight mess that seems to come and go as it pleases. Regardless, there are moments where both systems show their inadequacies.
Still, perhaps the most problematic aspect of battles is the over reliance on elementals. Most role-playing fans are familiar with the concepts that make ice creatures weak towards fire spells and make machines susceptible to lightning. These general “rules” may change a little between games but the general science usually holds true. Anyway, after the switch above takes place the practice of elementals takes on a whole new importance in The 4 Heroes of Light. Before this point it’s nice to have the correct elemental shield to block a given boss’ biggest spells but it literally becomes mandatory in the second half as is attacking with the correct element to adjust for the increased boss hit point totals. What makes this such a chore is that prior to fighting a boss (unless you’ve beaten the game before) you’re not going to know what element to protect against/attack with. So this means a lot of trial and error since a) you can’t change equipment during battle b) you can only carry so much equipment to begin with and c) most enemies have physical attacks are infused with unseen elemental aspects.
The literal abuse of elemental combat above (and the broken yet lifesaving application of the Elementalist class) also tries back into something learned in Matrix’s reworking of Final Fantasy III: if you know what’s good for you do NOT ignore the magic defense statistic. Really, you don’t want to see what happens when a character lacking in this department is tagged by a spell. Also adding the vast list of idiosyncrasies seen in combat is the reality that attacks don’t do a static amount of damage. Damage for the same attack can vary wildly from turn to turn for no real reason - even if you hit an enemy’s weak spot.
Delightful Dungeons?
Despite the title of this section (I only named it that so I could employ some sweet alliteration) exploring dungeons is actually another thing The 4 Heroes of Light does right. Unfortunately, as if it’s any surprise, it’s complicated by the problems above – especially the elemental problem which may have you leaving a dungeon here or there for the correct gear. Regardless, the developers took note of the limited on-hand inventory space and avoided loading the dungeons to the brim with treasure. You may have to make a decision on what to keep every once in a while (especially when combined with enemy drops) but you won’t be stressing over what and what not to keep or leaving a dungeon over and over to store items at the storage shop. The bite-sized dungeons go well with the inventory system and shows one an area where designer forethought finally coincides with the current reality.
That being said, dungeons really don’t bring the goods graphically or intellectually. Considering how The 4 Heroes of Light tries to emulate older games more than newer ones (again, it’s no accident that the game shares several similarities to Final Fantasy III) this may be another area where being hypercritical may be ill-advised. Still, there are times where the dungeon concepts wreak of desperation. In fact, one dungeon is more-or-less ripped straight out of Breath of Fire II. I know Capcom doesn’t have complete jurisdiction over that specific “kind” of dungeon but it’s so close in spirit it’s not even funny.
Working Class Warfare
Given how Matrix worked on the DS remake of Final Fantasy III, it should come as no surprise that The 4 Heroes of Light employs a similar yet slightly different job system. Rest assured the classes everyone has grown up with are accounted for, but some of them are a bit redefined and repackaged to make things a bit more intriguing. However, the real change occurs in how the player expands upon their powers. Rather than relying on an age-old concept like a numerical level that’s based on accumulating a set number of experience points or performing so many actions, The 4 Heroes of Light takes a cue from Final Fantasy X’s sphere grid. Abilities (or commands) are unlocked by placing “gems” into “crowns.” Crowns are basically fancy sets of headgear that grant your characters their classes or jobs. It’s actually pretty satisfying to place your gems into these crowns but the appeal is ultimately limited by the number of gems you have on hand. Enemies have a set percentage at which they drop certain gems but there never seems to be enough to go around, something that prohibits any real, unbridled exploration of the classes available.
While there is little doubt you’ll be grinding for gems at one point or another, gems also come in handy when it comes to upgrading equipment. Upgrading the attack and defense parameters on weapons and armor is the only way to get ahead of the curve in the second half of the game proves to be essential when tackling the bonus content. Still, if I were to cry fowl about any one aspect of The 4 Heroes of Light it would be how one is expected to make money. One doesn’t receive money from winning battles but by selling off their extra goods. From a straightforward point of view this is a clever approach, but from the view of your typical completionist it is an utter nightmare. For those wanting to complete the game with one of every item (there is actually a reward for this to boot) enemy drops take on a whole new level of importance.
Yea or Nay?
After all this talk you’re probably wondering what my final take on Final Fantasy: The 4 Heroes of Light is. Well, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is despite all the problems contained within I actually had a pretty good time and I look forward to replaying it at some point down the road. The bad news? As much as I enjoyed it I find I have to be honest and be a bit harsh while judging it. Still, while some will see the resulting six out of ten as a sign of failure nothing could be further from the truth. Sometimes ratings are just that – ratings. Ratings are not always an accurate way to calculate the intangibles that occasionally work their way into the equation. Oddly enough this is one of those times.
“The kind of game you want to hate… until it grows on you.”
Final Fantasy III: a title that can mean two different things. On one hand, Final Fantasy III refers to the now outdated and somewhat disfavored title of the SNES version of Final Fantasy VI. On the other, Final Fantasy III refers to the real Final Fantasy III, a twenty-one year old Famicom game that was never officially released in any market outside Japan, a fate its immediate predecessor Final Fantasy II once shared. Also on the list of previously unreleased, missing-in-action titles was Final Fantasy V.
Be that as it may, most fans know this page of history by now and how fallible a philosophy it was to renumber these games in the first place. Still, while three of the six games in the series were unavailable outside of Japan before the launch of Final Fantasy VII, the missing episodes would get their shot at western audiences in the years that followed. Final Fantasy V would be released in the Anthologies package and a remastered edition of Final Fantasy II would accompany the original adventure in 2003’s Origins. Both games would even see a few re-releases in the future on the GBA and PSP, but the fact remained that Final Fantasy III was still relegated to it’s homeland outside a back alley option like emulation or flat-out importing.
As sobering as time can be in a predicament such as this, I’m sure I’m not the only one that found this to be quite bothersome. For the lack of a better analogy, it was akin to having a series of books only to have one missing right in the middle. Granted, given that each Final Fantasy is its own self-contained entity (well… they use to be before sequels became the in thing) it’s not like Final Fantasy III was a missing chapter in continuous story. However, I’m sure there are those who would use such a word to describe a missing installment given the over arching themes and influences. Thankfully, despite some of the sins they have perpetrated since the damaging yet life sustaining merger, SquareEnix decided to right this wrong by releasing an updated version of the game on the Nintendo DS.
Now given how late I am to the DS party, I was pretty sure I knew what I wanted to write about Final Fantasy III – a game that time has somewhat forgotten despite the facelift. About ten hours in I assumed I had enough information (or gripes) to do what I wanted: tear the game down and put another nail in the preverbal coffin of a series and company that has literally lost its way. Yet for some reason I waited; I didn’t start writing this a third of the way through the game like I planned – the one third of the game I had played in its original form years ago. I can’t really explain why I waited – that great mystery remains unsolved – but I’m glad I did. Not only did I save myself the time I would have spent rewriting this review in a more positive light, but I was reminded that first impressions are often lousy to begin with.
Recon Confliction
As with anything that receives a fresh coat of paint, Final Fantasy III on the Nintendo DS takes a few liberties with its source material. First off, this time the player’s characters are given default names and basic, cardboard cutout personas. It’s no longer a boy’s day out as one of the characters (Refia) has been designated as female – so no one can anyone call Final Fantasy III sexist anymore. Anyway, as PC as this is in reality, beyond that lies the second major change: the fact that you no longer start with a full party like the Famicom original. In falling down into Altar Cave with Luneth, the player will find they must wait a bit to get the other members of their party. Because of this, the events that follow are switched around a bit and the future aspects of the story are ultimately placed under more scrutiny. How much scrutiny? In the original all four “boys” were raised by Elder Topapa in the village of Ur. In this rendition, only two of the characters (Luneth and Arc) are raised by Topapa; the others (Refia and Ingus) are raised by the mythril blacksmith Takka and the citizens of Sasune. Now why does this change take center stage? Because it makes the game’s first twist even more implausible than it was before. We’re talking Final Fantasy VIII-esque bad and anyone who’s played both games should have an immediate clue as to what I’m talking about.
Okay, so attacking a plot point in a game this old is rather moot given there aren’t too many NES games that are known for their plot. Still, I point it out because as weak-kneed as this moment truly is, Final Fantasy III is able to make up for it with the revelations that follow even though they break no new ground. I’ll admit I’m not completely pleased with the bad guy who seems a little too content in sending out his various cronies while he sits in his castle when other Final Fantasy villains like Golbez actually got their hands dirty. Disappointing and disposable as he is in the end, I liked the reasons behind his actions even though I couldn’t really identify with them.
Freelancer Employment
Much like Final Fantasy V, Final Fantasy III employs a job system that grants the player a tremendous amount of freedom. Unlike the original Final Fantasy, your characters are not locked into their given class for the duration of the game. Now you can switch jobs on the fly (minus a brief, statistical-based penalty) and tweak your party to face the challenges in front of them. Generally, the game lets you make your own decisions, but there are times where the game will make a suggestion. These cues range from the subtle (like presenting the player with certain equipment at shops or in treasure chests) to the blatant blathering of a no-name NPC who rambles on and on about a particular class. These types of hints are really divided upon themselves because while they’re both intended to make your life easier, not following a major hint can really throw a kink in your progress - especially if it’s early in the game. Still, following the given advice may not be enough - you may need to compensate in other ways to accommodate the given situation.
Antagonizing as these moments are, I found I had a lot more success – and fun - blazing my own trail. Yet a lot of my success was due to certain classes proving way too useful. Perhaps more than any other Final Fantasy I can think of employing a Thief in my party was a pure pleasure and paid off huge dividends. Stick with the class long enough and you’ll see how easy it is to master it long before any other. Related to that success is just how invaluable it can be to wield two weapons. This is something I’ve often avoided in past Final Fantasies because it seemed somewhat unnatural not to have a shield but once you start scrapping enemies left and right you start to warm up to it. Another class worth its weight in gold is the Warrior. The game tries to offset the offensive power of the Advance command by lowering the defense of the character prior to it’s activation but such an attempt is futile – much like trying strike a balance between spell casting and attacking with the disappointing Red Mage.
While there are obviously some class/team set ups that won’t work, there really isn’t a “brick wall” point in the game for most classes when it comes to usefulness. I bring this up because the writers of the official strategy guide try to dive home the idea that once you enter the final stage of the game you need to give up on certain classes (like those from the crystal of wind) in order to advance. This simply isn’t true. Sure, you’ll want to upgrade your While/Black mages to the Devout/Magus classes in order to gain access to level eight magic (that’s a no-brainer) but that’s about it. I never encountered the “invisible wall” they alluded to until the last battle but that was due to other, rather ill-explained gameplay factors like…
…Magic Resistance? What’s That?
Most Final Fantasy veterans know that magic resistance is the statistic that determines how much damage their characters will take from a magical attack. In past games I (and others I’m sure) have looked at this number with secondary importance compared to things like attack power and physical defense. Well, those days are over. Magic resistance is of the utmost importance in Final Fantasy III because the field before magic resistance is even factored in is completely skewed. Confused? Let me explain…
In role-playing games (and in D&D where a lot of role-playing mechanics are lifted from) it is generally believed that a “magically oriented” character should take less damage from a magical attack than one that’s “physically oriented.” Okay, I’m not the smartest cookie on the face of the earth but I generally believe that makes sense to a certain degree – a magician should excel at defending against the kind of techniques they employ themselves. This idea can be seen in nearly every role-playing game in existence and Final Fantasy III is no exception. The problem? The degree to which it is practiced. On average, melee characters take five times more damage from a spell than their spell casting counterparts. That’s a four hundred percent difference! So if a spell does one-hundred points of damage to your spell caster (which excludes red mages) expect to see a five hundred pop up on your fighters. This is ridiculous in the purest sense of the word. At the most I would expect a spell to do 1.5 or double damage to a physical character at the most but five? The real kick in the pants is when your levels are high and spells start doing zero damage to your mages yet still take a sizable chunk out of your fighters.
Bad as this may seem, there’s more to the story. As much as I talked up dual wielding earlier forgoing dual wielding is actually the key in helping amend a fighter’s defense against spells. Despite the fact it doesn’t show it in the equip screen (the game only shows your physical defense power on this screen) equipping a shield will increase your magical resistance. You’ll have to switch between the equipment and status screens in the menu before and after to see the difference numerically but its there. Anyway, while this helps the situation (trust me, it makes the last fight a heck of a lot easier) the gap between fighters and mages is still quite wide in this respect despite what the numbers would have you believe. My suggestion? Feel free to dual wield during random encounters but ditch the extra weapons for shields during boss fights. It’s amazing how the additional damage adds up and causes a nightmare scenario for your healer. Random encounters are usually over before they begin and if you focus on eliminating spell casting foes first there really is no threat. As for the boss-fest that is the end of the game it’s best to drop the extra weaponry altogether and opt for shields – the extra bit of resistance is invaluable and the weapons you have at the point should be more than enough to get you through despite being solo affairs. The official strategy guide suggests this in its section on the final confrontation but doesn’t really explain it fully.
Another Final Fantasy Completed!
Despite the bump in the road that is magic resistance, I enjoyed my time with Final Fantasy III. While I don’t really enjoy being schooled I’m glad the game put me in my place for wanting to fire a volley in its direction solely based on the company that made it. Still, Final Fantasy III doesn’t succeed because of its facelift (in fact, a remastered version of the game like Final Fantasy I & II on the PS1/GBA/PSP would have been fine if not better) but because the core game is worth experiencing despite all the advancements the genre has seen since its original debut. I won’t deny all the faults listed above, but if a game like Final Fantasy II can still work despite its myriad of problems than who’s to say Final Fantasy III can’t as well?
