1-27) Inn The sleep/inn jingle is always an awkward part of a track-by-track review that usually goes as follows: passing judgment on a five to ten second "piece" of music, stating it's too short to give it a grade and then half expecting the author to break into some kind of deep inner monologue. Even though I can't deliver on that last one, hopefully I can keep it interesting by presenting some odd facts about inns in Wild Arms 2nd Ignition. Contrary to other RPG franchises the inn theme of Wild Arms has been carried over throughout the games, realigned for each appearance. This time around that dreamy, bed head feel is toned down even though we still have the guitar and whistle present. The bad news is the more you hear this during the game the more unlucky you may feel. Sleeping too much (being a sloth) in Wild Arms 2 decreases your character's awareness (which is controlled by the luck statistic) and leaves them more open to surprise attacks and diminishes their chances of learning/absorbing new abilities. As clever as it seems to implement such a system, it fails to take into account that once you acquire a certain character you'll rarely need the services of an inn again. (N/A)
1-28) Heading Far from the Sea Like the waves of an angry sea sinking the sturdiest ship or testing the hardiest sailor, the hands of time can dull the sharpest points and fade even the most vibrant of colors. Cruel as that may seem, there are occasions where time is the greatest of allies, allowing us to see things we couldn't see before. This is the bane of the lullaby-like percussion and ferryman whistle of "Heading Far from the Sea" as it attempts and fails to live off of its simplicity. How the moon steals its shine from the sun is reminiscent of how this track steals its perceived shine from similar tracks like "Live Reflector." The only problem is no one is going to mistake the sun for the moon and the same could be said about the vast difference in quality between these two tracks. For this listener, this piece's days of latching on to uncomplicated tracks that actually add something to the soundtrack are far over. (5/10)
1-29) The Stronghold Surfaces! For a theme reflecting on an incredible piece of aviation technology, "The Stronghold Surfaces!" sure goes nowhere fast. The strong and bold opening plays into the title very well — that exclamation point is not just there for show — even though it does feels a bit phoned in. Any and all praise is short-lived however, as the track loses focus as it putters around looking for a purpose much like the enormous albeit limited vehicle it represents. Actually, I take back what I said about the beginning — with its expansive, nature encompassing aura, the WHOLE thing feels phoned in. As laughable as the idea of a head-to-head comparison is, it's really hard to say which — this, or "Heading Far from the Sea" — deserves the dishonor of being labeled the worst transportation-based theme. To its credit, at least "The Stronghold Surfaces!" doesn't try to be something it isn't. It is as thin as paper and as enjoyable as sugar free gum from the get go. (5/10)
1-30) Harbinger of the Hurricane With two flaccid vehicle themes down for the count, it's not hard to imagine the skepticism surrounding the third and final entry. Neither the final nail in the coffin or a magical cure-all for this taxed section of the score, "Harbinger of the Hurricane" will likely disappoint those looking for an offering as grand and sweeping as "Bird in the Sky (Emma's Theme)" from the first game. However, such a comparison seems unfair for a variety of reasons, among them pitting a track with a solitary message against one with a dual message. One could argue this composition, fueled by the finale and paranormal motifs heard earlier and the lead avoiding the temptation to go whistle on the listener does give it multiple dimensions. The track really fights this premise though, which given it shared characteristics with "Field: Last IGNITION" is completely appropriate. Short of stellar and beyond mediocre, the dose of adrenaline "Harbinger of the Hurricane" adds to this formula is worth your time. (7/10)
1-31) Dungeon: Natural Type 1 The two tracks that make up the "Natural Type" dungeon series are a mini-history lesson about Naruke's ability to make a compositional scheme work one minute and then have it backfire a track or two later. With a ruse that should be more than recognizable by this point, "Dungeon: Natural Type 1" attempts to grab the listener by providing a sound that is both familiar and befitting of its environment. While "Natural Type 2" manages to make something of itself despite this, "Natural Type 1" does not. The happy-go-lucky mine/mine cart ride subtext is so generic and deep seeded it smothers the better (yet not necessarily good) aspects of the track like the harmonica. The nicest thing I can say is even though it truly adds nothing to the score (outside of reinforcing how every positive becomes a negative at some point and vice versa) it's not a real burden here or in the game, though it doesn't have much life beyond the latter. (6/10)
1-32) Dungeon: Ruins Type 2 While "Ruins Type 1" helps support the rough terrain at the beginning of the soundtrack, it isn't until "Ruins Type 2" that the series validates itself as some of the "must hear" music in Wild Arms 2nd Ignition. If the lust of adventure is one of your guilty pleasures look no further: guitars, horns and harmonics are ablaze here, all out to capture unwary ears. This is hardly an accurate description on what's really going on here, the instruments not being as forceful as they seem — especially those in the background. It is from here that the underlying sorrow takes form and when it melds with the slight hesitation of the other instruments and creates that perfect sense of covert loneliness. As much as I enjoy "Dungeon: Ruins Type 2," I have to admit that Atsushi Tomita's techno/rock remix from the Wild Arms -Music the Best- rocking heart arrange album gives Naruke's original a real run for its money, though both are definitely worth a stop on their respective albums. (9/10)
1-33) Dungeon: Ruins Type 3 Game show! Game show! Game show! Okay, so you're not on a game show per say, but you'll feel like you've hit the jackpot as you collect the multitude of treasures inside the four elemental dungeons this piece calls home. As big of a smile "Ruins Type 2" puts on my face, "Ruins Type 3" makes it even wider. The beat of the percussion personifies descending flight after flight of stairs as your characters search for a way to combat menace devouring Filgaia. Still, the percussion would be nothing without the horns and their ability to switch emotional frequencies at a moment's notice. One second the fact that the world's future is in your hands is related via a reaper-like call and the next the playful, jazzy sound gives you permission to find fun within the above. In the end, this is what this series of tracks is about: do yourself a favor and accept Naruke's infectious invitation. (10/10)
1-34) Dungeon: Pinch Type 1 A scathing blow after some of the soundtrack's highest highs, the "Pinch Type" series takes the stage with some of the score's lowest lows. Used primarily for desolate and deserted towns, the idea here is to create uneasiness though disharmony. Naruke does just that, but the result feels so bloated and unattractive it makes it hard to swallow. This is a shame because there are a few elements — like the hard-nosed piano work at the beginning — that do stand out due to their steady aim but lack the ability to really gel with one another. Regardless, it's these small glimmers of light that keep "Dungeon: Pinch Type 1" from being a complete let down, though most will find it as unforgiving as the wastelands of Slayheim itself. (5/10)
1-35) Dungeon: Pinch Type 2 Given that "Pinch Type 2" does little to mend the shortcomings of its predecessor, it should come as no surprise that its effort to burrow into the mind of the listener ends up short even with its few additional perks. The main melody is more concrete here, but that static sense of oppression that Naruke runs into the ground throughout the score challenges it with its unyielding drive. Ironically, the aspect that garners the most attention is once again the piano, the stone cold performance before the repeat paying homage to the first track in the series and easing the pain of all the droll musical climaxes that come before it. The most unfortunate thing about the sound and direction of these pieces is it doesn't end here, making for some mind numbing experiences ahead. (6/10)
1-36) Dungeon: Horror Regardless of how blunt it may sound "Dungeon: Horror" is an annoying track. It's not annoying in an "I can't believe they thought this sounded good" kind of way but a "thanks for reminding me of all the antagonizing dungeons in the game" way. That being said, those that have never heard this piece in context probably have an advantage over those that have (unlike every other track presented) though they don't miss out on that in-game experience entirely. What initially seems to be a piece full of wonder quickly sheds it skin, revealing what is a rather sarcastic performance by the lead instruments. They pull at you and tease your senses like the intersection of a maze as the pompous beats rack your brain with endless decisions. It's a lot like the entrance of a labyrinth itself: the thrills and excitement in "Dungeon: Horror" seem devilishly alluring, yet once you pass the same structures inside again and again you begin to feel how unwelcome you really are. (6/10)
1-37) Dungeon: Urgent Situations More of a danger/crisis theme than a full-fledged dungeon theme, "Urgent Situation" reiterates the idea that these types of tracks are neither a particular strength nor a glaring weakness of Naruke's. However, to understand how this piece becomes stronger because of this, one needs to acknowledge that there is strength to be found in perceived faults. For a danger theme, "Urgent Situation" doesn't really bring the power pound for pound, instead opting to work with a subdued palette through all three tiers of intensity. It's too relaxed to be truly engaging, but then we don't really need another "Chase." My favorite part is when the percussion shows up and breaks things down at the end right before the loop, essentially resetting the piece. Those looking for a little more meat to such tracks will likely pass even though it's wired pretty much the same. (7/10)
1-38) Dungeon: Battle Preparations Contrary to other dungeon themes, "Battle Preparations" is not used throughout the exploration of a location but rather when one encounters an enemy with whom they share a witty retort. What's odd about the track is it doesn't give into that thick, stereotypical drama you'd expect but the other way around; the reserved build up of tension sounds like something played during a raffle of some kind. What's even odder is how fitting the above description really is, the scene accompanying it in the game showing the main character making a huge gamble with the emotions of another. Musically, the way Naruke manipulates the emotion of the instruments — going from serious to almost comical — by implementing moments of slight hesitation is clever even though its far from seamless and a bit to wishy-washy to listen to out of context. (6/10)
1-39) Dungeon: Mystery For the musical backdrop for dungeons that are guardian related but not guardian specific (if that makes any sense at all), there is a lot more going on in "Dungeon: Mystery" than its tranquil mood would suggest. For example, whip out a pair of headphones and check out that killer low level that tucked away in the back. Awesome. Still, what makes this piece significant is the banjo and how unorthodox its inclusion in such a serene piece seems until you hear how compatible it is with the flute. Working in tandem, there is never an instance where one instrument tries to shove the other aside in an abrasive manner to grab the spotlight. Even the wily whistle that steps in and out adheres to this concept as it harkens back "Hidden Village," hinting that what we have here is more than just a dungeon theme. "Dungeon: Mystery" may lack the impulse of "Ruins Type 2" and "Ruins Type 3" but it doesn't need to, presenting its own nonchalant charms. (8/10)
1-40) Dungeon: Odessa's Hideout You knew it was coming, that the doom and gloom of the "Pinch Type" series would rise again. The only thing you didn't know was how soon that specter would reappear. Pretty much everything I would say here I've said elsewhere: the track undoubtedly drives home the idea of oppression — a good match for an aggressive, terrorist organization — but do we have to hear this expressed in the same fashion each time? If I was a member of Odessa and had to listen to this all day in the compound I was guarding I'd defect to ARMS quicker than you could say "Valeria Chateau" so I could hear something less depressing. There's a bit of a mechanical motif here too, a reference to Odessa's use of ancient technology to push people around. Whatever excuse you want to use to try and put a positive spin on what's here, it isn't very enjoyable or engrossing. (6/10)
1-13) The Young Witch Appears Being the first of a few pieces dedicated solely to Lilka, crest sorceress and little sis of the famous Eleniak witch-girl of Sielje, "The Young Witch Appears" is a hole-in-one when it comes to representing the bumbling nature of the game's main source of comic relief. The nutty, kooky percussion, the "woo!" vocal sample that peeks out every once in a while and the questioning subtext paints the perfect picture of youthful inexperience and childlike wonder. The only thing is it's not perfect. It's... too easy. Looking at the vast ocean of classic character themes that have graced games over the years this one misses mark; it neither makes me melt in my seat nor do I really think of the challenges the character will eventually overcome — something "Separation" totally nails. Because of this, it's hard to have patience towards the track, especially when one is waiting for a crisp battle or dungeon theme. Even if it works from a standard point of view, it is unsuccessful at accurately hinting at what drives Lilka forward. (6/10)
1-14) Separation While it may not seem like it (um, let's see... what's the highest grade received by a track so far — an 8?) the Wild Arms 2nd Ignition Soundtrack is home to some wonderful tracks. I know, I know, when are we going to hear them and see some 9's and 10's. Rest assured they are coming, but in the meantime there are some delightful tracks like "Separation" that share their own brand of magic along a way. Used to portray the physical and emotional distance between characters at various points in the game, the fact that this piece is not a character specific has always dumbfounded me. Why the odd statement? This track is just hook, line and sinker Lilka to me. The hollow passages of the flute and wavering effect of the remaining instruments just (silently) scream her name, giving the void within shape. So no, it's not really a character theme, but damn, it sure is in my book. The simple structure of the composition and spot on flute samples bringing it home. (8/10)
1-15) Monsters Appear Crap. After the last track it would have been nice if the soundtrack could have surrendered a few more of its higher end tunes but it continues to horde. Oh well, what can you do short of putting them in a better order in a playlist? There isn't much to say about "Monsters Appear," the horn's declaration of dread is pretty standard, but it's the curious, almost devilish little notes that follow that make the track feel almost... cute? This makes one wonder if this was a conscious effort by Naruke to link this back to "The Young Witch Appears" due to the fact both appear in Lilka's introductory adventure. What ever the case may be, the elements that make up this piece are interesting yet not really worth investigating outside of its zone of safety. (6/10)
1-16) Victory! On the heels of the not so hot "Monsters Appear" is the fanfare crafted to balance its mood by association. Regardless of its intended purpose, "Victory" is yet another instance where the title leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination as the expression of triumph is even more generic than the previous track's take on despair. Sure, that Wild Arms vibe is there but it only reinforces how painful it feels when playing that card fails to turn an average item into something special. It's worth noting that even though this piece is not employed as a battle fanfare, it could very well lend itself to such an application given the right situation, and it does give some foresight into Naruke's work in that area. (6/10)
1-17) A Journey To talk about "A Journey" without reflecting back on "The Young Witch Appears" and "Victory!" is rather impossible because while this track doesn't flat-out railroad the others into submission, it is successful in achieving similar goals. Neither bound by the "dissect the core of the character" directive of a character theme nor the product of over watering a basic idea with Wild Arms Miracle Grow, "A Journey" has the ability to sidestep these problems. The reason why isn't very apparent on a one-on-one basis with the soundtrack itself but it's usage in the game that allows it to do this. One of the better one-shot tracks, this is the highlight of the Lilka specific numbers ("Separation" not counting *frown*) that cements the fact that the interplay between the last few tracks should be commended even if a lot gets lost in translation along the way. (7/10)
1-18) Quiet Night There is so much to rag on here it isn't even funny, though none of it has to do with Naruke but rather Yasunori Mitsuda. If you're wondering what he could possibly have to do with a Wild Arms track here's a hint: music box. As hard as I try to banish thoughts of similar tracks in Chrono Trigger and Xenogears they always find their way back when listening to "Quiet Night." Simply put, Mitsuda's ability to wrap a melody around the frontal lobe of a listener with this *instrument* is so razor sharp it's downright sadistic. Naruke's excursion into this realm is a bit more layered but has too few weapons to battle the mental contamination (the good kind mind you!) from Mr. Music Box above. Still, there is nothing to be gained from blasting this piece into orbit. (7/10)
1-19) Formal Ceremony A stifling and wretchedly stereotypical piece, "Formal Ceremony" is a track that is devoid of life or soul outside it's one and only appearance during the ARMS (Agile Remote Mission Squad [NA]/Awkward Rush & Mission Savers [Japan]) commencement ceremony. Yeah, for something like this to play during such an event is hard to imagine. The upbeat percussion and proud horns go on in all their glory but you've heard it all before. Okay, so it's not as bad all this sarcasm is making it out to be. It's listenable, yet Naruke did herself and the soundtrack a great disservice by not tinkering around with this idealistic sound any further. Furthermore, had this piece had been crafted in a manner that made it more accessible, it may have been able to accommodate more scenes. This is the track's complete undoing because "Castle," a later track similar in style and substance, could replace "Formal Ceremony" despite lacking a significant amount of superiority. It's never a good thing when you can prove a track to be unnecessary. (6/10)
1-20) 1st IGNITION While a curious metaphor, "1st IGNITION" is a lot like that person you knew in high school that had to play in every sport and be a member of every club. You scratch your head wondering how they accomplish so much but though observation you begin to realize they don't have it so great; their assets being stretched so thin they never have time to have unscheduled fun let alone breathe. This is the story of "1st IGNITION," a musical storybook of Filgaia's salvation crammed into a single, two minute segment. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, yet the precedent Naruke set with "Funeral March" in the first game fights this premise. Here we have a wide variety of emotions being expressed during the post-introduction credit roll as opposed to one. Naruke does a good job at stringing the emotional fragments together and incorporating some of the later themes, but it's not until the very end that we know what we should take away from the experience. The piece feels lopsided as a result even though the emphasis at the end is right on. (6/10)
1-21) Field: Roaming At first, this seemingly standard take on the main theme "You'll Never Be Alone" may appear to be nothing to get excited about, yet this track marks a real turning point for the soundtrack. Could this be the result of the aura of freedom presented by map themes in general ("roaming" being a killer adjective here) or the sense of promise the whistling instills in the listener? Whatever it is, "Field: Roaming" does feel a bit limited when compared to future field themes, mostly due to the warm, almost earthen embrace of the instruments that reminds one of the travel restrictions placed on the player in the early stages of an RPG. Perhaps the best thing about this track (besides being the basis for some of the more endearing love pieces) is how it manages to capture the importance of the character's journey without being a monstrous epic or completely giving into the playfulness sprinkled throughout. (8/10)
1-22) Field: Distorted Sky For some reason, I can't help but think of Doppler radar whenever "Field: Distorted Sky" comes across my speakers; its waves emitting from a central point, fanning out in search of dark and dreary clouds like the alternating bass and double bass percussion waiting for something from beyond to respond. The eerie whistle taunts and teases the listener with thoughts of the heavens being devoured by chaos. By the time the acoustic guitar jumps in at the end with its frightful cold notes of worry, you know something big is happening in Filgaia. Really, while I haven't said a whole lot about this track I can't say enough — Naruke blends her western sound with the paranormal so well it's scary. What's even scarier is she sacrifices nothing to do it: no bizarre or out of place samples, no compromises. This is the kind of stuff that brings me back to the Wild Arms 2nd Ignition Original Soundtrack time and time again. (9/10)
1-23) Field: Last IGNITION Forgoing a lot of the conventions expected of it by relation, "Field: Last IGNITION" drops the whistle motif present in the previous field themes and offers a straightforward experience unlike "1st IGNITION" on which it is based. The absence of the former is merely a façade however, as the lead synth takes center stage as the track progresses much like a whistle would have. There are a myriad of emotions captured as well: the simultaneous gearing up and winding down of an adventure nearing its finale gives into the uncanny sadness of an uncertain future. None of this is groundbreaking and it is still no match for "Field: Roaming" or "Field: Distorted Sky," but it taps the right resources well enough. (7/10)
1-24) Town Where the West Wind Blows Town themes have always been an interesting subdivision of Wild Arms music with Naruke at the helm. I don't mean interesting in a "nice try, but..." sort of way but interesting in that they are never tackled in the same exact way in each game. The original Wild Arms had pieces that felt like social commentary on how the nature surrounding each town influenced it in some way, while a similar approach in Wild Arms Advanced 3rd took on a more gritty and personal touch. In contrast, Wild Arms 2nd Ignition makes a real departure by concentrating on the excitement to be had in towns, whether it be haggling with weapon store owners or cleaning out people's houses due to your rampant kleptomania. "Town Where the West Wind Blows" does just this, the flute lying down that typical town vibe as the xylophone-like notes create a childlike sense of freedom one would expect to hear as they crank the handle of a jack-in-the-box. Those looking for a deeper expression of emotion will find this and most of the other town themes hollow, but there are times where things are fun because they are hollow. This is one of those times. (8/10)
1-25) Western Village Most of what applies to "Town Where the West Wind Blows" above also applies to "Western Village." As it is, the experience here is so iconic of the Old West it is shameful; images of cowboys crewing on long pieces of wheat, lazily leaning against the front post of a saloon as they target a spittoon are all too clear. It is as shameful as it is its brilliant, brilliant because it simply embraces what it is without remorse, turning negative connotations associated with the cliché on its ear. Let go of your ego and see just how easy it is to get lost in this piece, how easy it is to forget the complete lack of originality as the two acoustic guitars intermingle. (7/10)
1-26) Hidden Village Fans of Naruke's town themes in the first Wild Arms will most likely find that "Hidden Village" has the deepest and greatest meaning out of all her efforts here. They're absolutely right, though there are a few obstacles that may hinder one from fully connecting with it out of context. The first is while some of the instruments (e.g. the hollow percussion) convey that general village atmosphere the main melody feels a lot more personal than normal for a town theme. This is no mistake as the innocence that flows forth from this track is geared more towards the depiction of a young, beautiful soul than a town. The second thing that halts the complete comprehension of the track is the hidden subtext the game places on it at one point. As peculiar as it sounds, "Hidden Village" is meant to lead you into a false sense of security in one particular case and the bold sense of Baskar pride does just that. All of this and the contrast it shares with it's disc two replacement "Scene of Reminiscence" serves to show this track has a lot more going for it than a mere listen would suggest. (8/10)
When it comes to the world of video games and video game music it goes without saying that with any kind of discovery comes disappointment. Not every apple is fresh or will be to your liking, but when you find the right one it makes all that searching worth while. Yet this is only one take on the disappointment that comes along with discovery, as one can be disappointed at the lack of success and acclaim something receives. This is a road that Wild Arms 2nd Ignition has come to know all too well, having had to complete with a much less forgiving market than its predecessor, its flaws and shortcomings documented for all to see. In regards to the soundtrack, there are many things that turn what is a light sprinkle into an unrelenting downpour, like SPE Visual Works' typical, half hearted presentation of the music (e.g. minimal looping) and the composer's ambitions and creations being at odds with one another, but is there sunshine beyond the horizon? Read on to find out.
1-01) Main Title For a game that's one of my favorites, I honestly wish there was something more to say about the title theme — an important piece of music for any game. While the methodical nature of the acoustic guitar and the patented Wild Arms whistle undoubtedly convey the fact that Filgaia has never fully recovered from the crimson flames that scarred its surface long ago, it fails to embody the engaging adventure that is to follow. This isn't to say a title theme has to be an orthodox, by-the-numbers affair that always highlights the lighter aspects of a game, but it should feel a lot more viable and memorable than this, not like a missed opportunity. (6/10)
1-02) You'll Never Be Alone "You'll Never Be Alone" emits a sense of magic that is similar to "The End of the Wilderness" but doesn't build upon itself in the same way. Granted, the feeling that the game's characters are longing for something that is just beyond the horizon is there but as the instruments and composition go through the motions, it feels more fluid and homogeneous from an emotional standpoint. If you've played the North American version of the game and heard the alternate instrumental version (which opens with a horn rather than strings) there is a lot more to consider. As strong as Kaori Asou's vocals and Naruke lyrics are they don't support or further enhance what the music has to offer; they almost feel like a needless obstacle. Despite the fact I would rate this alternate, instrumental version higher if it was present on the soundtrack, both versions succeed in portraying their intended message to the listener quite well. (8/10)
1-03) Going Out To anyone familiar with video game music, its common knowledge that most scores (RPGs especially) have their own little collections of pieces that only see action once or twice within the span of a playthrough. With one hundred plus tracks spread out over two discs its safe to say that many of these tracks call Wild Arms 2nd Ignition home. "Going Out" is such a piece and while it's neither terrible nor musically unsound it ends up on the negative side of the spectrum regardless of its befitting, in-game context. First played during Ashley's introductory adventure as the musketeer brigade of Meria Boule makes their way to the Withered Ruins (and then, as expected, the only reprise taking place 25-30 hours later) the subdued, almost leisurely militaristic feel is undermined by the slightest sense of silliness that foreshadows how quickly things unravel once they reach their destination. All in all, "Going Out" is a classic example of a decent track that is incapable of making a class change. (6/10)
1-04) Dungeon: Ruins Type 1 If one were to say dungeon themes weren't an important element in the tapestry of an RPG it would be a lot like a person stating they're above breathing oxygen; it's a notion so ludicrous it's bound to induce laughter to all within an earshot of the speaker. All joking aside, to underestimate Naruke's work in this area would be borderline criminal even though there are some that fail to impress. The most notable entries — like those in the three part "Ruins Type" series — are among the list of reasons why this soundtrack should be considered by everyone. That's a lot of hype, but does "Ruins Type 1" live up to it? Yes and no. It isn't hard to forge a valid argument that this is the weakest of the three arrangements by far; still, the playful sense of discovery created from the interplay of the instruments is extremely welcome in the game's dungeons and is a nice change of pace from the first game where these pieces mostly adhered to a moody and cryptic palette. In the end, just try and take in this fun track as Naruke intended: resist the urge to over analyze it and accept it at face value. (7/10)
1-05) Serious Struggling "Serious Struggling" is an interesting track for all the wrong reasons. None of these reasons have much to do with the quality of the composition (which more or less shares its fate with "Going Out") but whether or not the title coincides with it and its in-game context. Case in point: if I was going to describe this track to someone the first thing I'd ask them to do would be to forget any and all preconceived notions about seriousness and strife being presented in a musical fashion. With that out of the way, I would then present them with the previous iteration of the title "Confusion in the Front" and, unlike above, allow them to read into it — particularly the word confusion. Hopefully associated ideas such as aimlessness, awkwardness, silliness and goofiness would be the result and give them a better grasp on what this track offers. As far as a title goes, is "Serious Struggling" so far off that there is no justification for its use? It's a real stretch, but one could contend that this seemingly wayward title is an extension of the humorous, slapstick nature of the piece and is meant to be ironic since it is anything but. In the end none of this, even its clever, covert musical connection with "Going Out" can serve to bolster this track's meek identity. (6/10)
1-06) Chase It's ironic that after chronicling why the title for the previous number doesn't fit (and how it barely might) along comes a track where I can seriously imagine someone struggling. Here we have the main danger theme of Wild Arms 2nd Ignition — it's repetitive, somewhat annoying (the end of the game's first disc proving that quite nicely) and does little to change one's view on such tracks. As damming as this is, "Chase" really does deserve more credit than it may initially receive due to the architecture employed: a multi-layered composition that gains a small amount of intensity in each section. This approach may seem standard — hell, Junya Nakano practically built his score for Dew Prism around this very concept — but it feels like a step up from the first game where Naruke repeated the same bars over and over in "Collapse." Regardless, it's nothing to get excited about; the track working when the situation calls for it and being digestible enough outside the game. (7/10)
1-07) The Crisis at Hand When there are a large amount of pieces on a soundtrack, the chances that there will be tracks that try to invoke comparable thoughts and emotions within the listener in a similar way increases. While it's entirely possible for someone with an open mind to enjoy or appreciate everything that comes to bat, there are cases where the stronger creations devour the others beyond conscious thought. This is the crisis that "The Crisis at Hand" faces: the dissonant feel that seems to radiate with the malice and cunning of scheming adversaries is right on, yet the same could really be said of "From Anxiety to Impatience" that comes along a little later. An inferiority complex like this may have to do with the fact the latter appears to be a bit more tangible than the former, but this is of little consolation for a track that is truly a victim of circumstance. (6/10)
1-08) A Dramatic Escape As a forbearer of bad news, it's unfortunate that "A Dramatic Escape" reveals the utter predictability some of Naruke's work falls prey to so early. The title really says it all here: you get a triumphant — dare I say dramatic — horn opening up the track before it settles back into its default posture of relief. Even though this piece falls hard out of context (where it actually seems more at home) it does stand as a great point of contrast for when Naruke does succeed in making the predictable attractive though the airs of familiarity. (6/10)
1-09) Scene of Reminiscence Alongside books and movies, RPG's usually incorporate flashbacks to flesh out their characters and the world around them. Not one to be left out of the crowd when it comes to storyline essentials and clichés, Wild Arms 2nd Ignition spends ample time detailing Brad's involvement with the Slayheim Liberation Army years before the opening of the game. "Scene of Reminiscence" caters to these scenes with a semi-ambient hum-like backdrop that acts like a canvas for the chilling notes of the accompanying acoustic guitar as they cry out with a resounding echo. Chances are that some will be completely at odds with the sparse instrumentation and minimal development, but the piece has another application up its sleeve. Replacing "Hidden Village" in the second half of the game when a terrible omen befalls Filgaia, "Scene of Reminiscence" doubles as a town theme. The contrast created from the fact that it's the only morose theme employed as such is invaluable and gives this sleeper track the slight edge it needs to be (eventually) noticed. (7/10)
1-10) Dungeon: Natural Type 2 Truth be told, "Dungeon: Natural Type 2" doesn't offer any kind of revolutionary twist on the quintessential forest dungeon theme that crops up in almost every RPG. In a forward yet indirect manner, Naruke molds the triumphant Wild Arms sound to a piece dripping with a deep, hollow earthen vibe. This is hardly a bad thing; in fact it's one of the most enjoyable dungeon themes outside the "Ruins Type" series. It's hard to explain why it's so easy to take in but I can't help think it has something to do with similar themes in Legend of Legaia. Confused? When it comes to pieces crafted especially for a natural/forest environment they usually play out deep and earthen or light and mystical. In Legaia, where nature was an integral part of the storyline, these tracks were cheapened by their hollow feel due to the countless number of composers that had treaded the same path beforehand. Of course, the same could be said of the other path that's explored here, but all things considered Naruke made the right choice on this one. (8/10)
1-11) A Momentary Respite Unlike many of Naruke's earlier event pieces, "A Momentary Respite" isn't left in neutral when it is taken out of context: a goal any composer should strive for. Unfortunately, such a feat is only compounded when these pieces receive minimal in-game play. This piece is no exception, really walking the line when it comes to how the listener is pulled in — the played-out side of familiarity almost eclipsing that which is tasteful. The acoustic flavor found here is rather similar to "Scene of Reminiscence" although the more continuous instrumentation and the emotional aspect is about as opposite as you can get. However, like the aforementioned track, "A Momentary Respite" draws some additional strength from an unlikely source: the next track "From Anxiety to Impatience." The synergy created by the contrast of these tracks is really shown in Brad's introductory quest when they are played in quick succession of one another. This quick turning of the tide (which the order of the tracks thankfully preserves) is enough to keep its head above the water of its almost negative familiarity. (7/10)
1-12) From Anxiety to Impatience The story of "From Anxiety to Impatience" is that of a title which has been seen on almost every Wild Arms release since the first OGS in 1996. Connected by mood rather than composition (it's a completely different entity each time around) the story represents one of the more clever musical conventions in the series' universe. Then again, some may find the worry these numbers are predetermined to represent not so clever although the 2nd Ignition incarnation feels like one of the better ones — if not the best. Gone is the painful, mournful cry that opened the original, leaving the deep guitar work and march-like background to paint a picture of an ill-fated confrontation — a scenario that "The Trouble Brewing Along" tackles in a more indirect manner. While the original is enjoyable in its own right, neither Naruke nor any of her successors have written anything more appealing under this title that what you'll find here. Couple this with the symbiotic relationship it shares with "A Momentary Respite" and the above becomes obvious. (7/10)
“A super-stiff stage presence hurts an otherwise spectacular performance”
When it comes to comedy, it goes without saying that I love comedians that appear to embrace what they talk about. While it's more than obvious why a comedian that fails to do so is doomed, there is nothing greater when the entire picture (looks and sincerity) come together. While comedians like George Carlin and Christopher Titus have a knack at deciphering what is wrong with society, Jim Gaffigan is a master at tackling the lighter aspects of human behavior, especially when it comes to people and their food stuffs. Point blank, I can't think of any other comedian that can comment on the foods we love (perhaps a bit too much) like Jim can. This doesn't make him as one dimensional as he's able to weave other subjects into his shows but it has more-or-less become his unofficial calling card and as a person who loves their food a bit too much I can't help but reflect on how true it really is.
Still, as rosy as such a description is Gaffigan's brand of comedy runs into a little bit of trouble in DVD form. Given my first experience with Gaffigan's work was the audio recording of this show I was extremely disappointed to find the energy and spirit in Gaffigan's voice does not carry over into his stage presence. I was expecting him to be a bit more active in playing some of these bits out with a camera in front of him but as it stands his movement is light-years behind others like a seventy year-old George Carlin who, for obvious and well-justified reasons, can't jump around the stage like he use to.
With such an argument placed in front of them, some people may be quick to defend Gaffigan and say his sheepish demeanor on stage is an extension of the lazy, offish person he claims to be. I thought of that as well but he just looks to fidgety and uncomfortable for it to be an act. If it is an act it isn't convincing and gives off an opposite, unintentional message. Do I want him to bop around the stage like Robin Williams? No. As much as I enjoy Williams' comedy one Robin Williams in the world is more than enough. Still, I don't say this to be cruel but to point out that the video portion of this show adds nothing to the experience; the proof lies in the fact the audio portion of this show graces my CD player a lot more than the DVD graces my DVD player.
CONCLUSION:
Unlike the vast body of comedians out there, Gaffigan's shortcomings are easy to decipher and pass judgment on. While some may question why that may be good thing, it ultimately makes some decisions that would otherwise be difficult easier. While I'd expect some to point out how such an argument is self-defeating, it starts to make sense the more you think about it. From here it's only a short jump, skip and hop to for one to discover why Gaffigan's material is as versatile as it is.
In his famous bit "Why We Don't Need the Ten Commandments," George Carlin asked why God settled on giving man *ten* commandments. Why not six, eight or twelve? The answer was that ten was a psychologically pleasing number, it was the basis of the metric system, it - perhaps most importantly - sounded official. So what does the number ten have to do with Edguy's "breakout" album Mandrake? Well, Mandrake turns ten this year and as such it seems more than appropriate to reflect back on how "well" it’s aged over the past decade.
As if the inflection above didn't give away what's to follow, Mandrake hasn't aged well. At all. In fact, I can't think of a worse breakout album than this. Why do I say such things? I think most fans can agree that Edguy was already making stellar music way before this album dropped (the ever-so impressive Vain Glory Opera comes to mind) and Mandrake's success only serves to remind one that Edguy should have received the kind of recognition they receive now at least three years before this point. I can't help but think how much more impressive the story of Edguy's rise would be if Vain Glory Opera had been their breakout album. But no, for many the story begins with a by-the-numbers album that is highly overstated in what it has to offer.
So what is wrong with Mandrake? The first problem flies somewhat under the radar (at least for a few years) and it takes about half the album with it: there is way too much filler here. "Golden Dawn," "Jerusalem," "All the Clowns," "Save Us Now" and "Fallen Angels" are pure, unadulterated filler. "All the Clowns" and "Save Us Now" have become victims of the humor reaper that eventually claims funny Edguy tracks for the soulless entities they are but I'd expect some to raise an objection or two with "Fallen Angels." Still, I knew this was a filler track the minute the band tried to make it sound more impressive than it really was on their first live album Burning Down the Opera. The same situation really applies to the ten minute "Pharaoh" as well. Edguy simply has better tracks in their catalog.
But speaking of superior tracks, one of the greatest tricks Mandrake tires to pull is making average tracks seem a lot more viable than they really are. The greatest example of this has to be "Nailed to the Wheel." At first there doesn't seem to be any negative to this edgy, in-your-face track but it eventually reveals itself as the one-dimensional cardboard cutout it really is. Speaking of things that die hard, one of the biggest blows to the album is when "Painting on the Wall" hits its eventual expiration date. With this being one of the album's centerpieces along with "Tears of a Mandrake," it should surprise no one how damaging such an eventuality is.
So, given that I've been picking off tracks as quickly as George Carlin picks off commandments in the aforementioned piece, you may be wondering when - or if - I'm going to praise anything that can be heard here. Well, I am, but the pickings are rather slim. As if there was any doubt, the title track is worth one's time as is the ballad "Wash Away the Poison" which is just different enough from previous Edguy ballads to eek out a name for itself. In another odd twist, the bonus track that's on every copy of this album in existence ("Devil and the Savant") isn't as disposable as one would initially think.
CONCLUSION:
While I'm sure there are those that think I've had fun dismantling what Mandrake has to offer, rest assured I have not. Nothing more would make me happier than to remember this album in a brighter light given this was my first Edguy experience. But if I have learned anything over the last ten years, it's not to lie to myself and avoid unpleasant truths, of which there are many. While the failings of a ten year old album are far from being truly important in the scheme of things, you got to start somewhere. Unfortunately for Edguy, way too many people started here.
When it comes to DVDs, it's safe to say that stand-up performances form an important cross section of my collection. From classic mainstays like George Carlin and Robin Williams to more recent acts like Jim Gaffigan the bases are pretty well covered. Still, I don't think any catalog is complete without Christopher Titus hopping from personal experience to personal experience pointing out how strained our lives have become within the never-ending vacuum known as society.
In his third outing, Chris quickly amends the insanity that made Norman Rockwell Is Bleeding and The 5th Annual End Of The World Tour successful with his various tales of marital discord. Whereas the aforementioned shows focused on a variety of topics while using a dedicated cast of "players," Love is Evol is a little more focused in its pursuits. It goes without saying that divorce and the situations surrounding it are often ugly, but it's a joy to see it tackled as it is here, where it is knocked to the ground and righteously smothered with a pillow.
The real treat is this experience fails to get heavy handed. While one can't say these moments are an outright flaw of Titus' shows, it is awkward how these segments of personal evaluation stop a routine on a dime despite their noble intention. Love is Evol also makes a small gain that's in direct correlation to the faults in the recently released Neverlution! Again, I can't say what is exactly to blame for the perceived hesitation in that special but is helps bolster this show against its slightly superior predecessors.
CONCLUSION:
As odd as it may sound given this is a review for the DVD, the real question that surrounds Love is Evol is whether to opt for the DVD or the audio recording. While Chris has a much better stage presence than someone like Jim Gaffigan (who is so stoic throughout his performances it isn't even funny) I have to suggest the audio recording. In general, the more portable you can make Titus the better although there are obvious exceptions - Norman Rockwell Is Bleeding greatly benefits from its video even though the audio is good on its own. Regardless of which path you choose, Love is Evol is more than capable of holding its own if you’re willing to listen.
When it comes to video games, it's amazing how we sometimes overlook staple video game characters. Despite the amount of respect I've held towards Mario in general the games always seem to be at the bottom of my current backlog of gaming titles. As much as I don't want to insinuate that these games can't satisfy more mature gamers (a thought that is just ludicrous) does such an idea subconsciously lurk within my mind? It's hard to say. Still, when I saw a copy of Super Mario Land 2: Six Golden Coins at the local Game X-Change I knew I had been away for too long. I knew it had to be replayed.
One purchase and playthough later I'm pleased to announce that Mario Land 2 is still the game I remember, a game that is in good company with other GameBoy classics like Kirby's Dream Land and Metroid II. Despite the fact that each Mario game tends to be special in its own way, I can't think of another game that parallels the refreshing variety seen in Super Mario Land 2's levels (even the levels within each zone are far from being rehashes of one another) and the zones are clever and keep you guessing with their occasional, alternate exits. As important as control and graphics are to the package, I have to go out on a limb and say the game's audio is the icing on the preverbal cake.
That said the fact that the game is literally over before it even begins is a bit of a buzz kill. Super Mario Land 2 may be longer than a title like Kirby's Dream Land but it's still short enough to undertake in a single, dedicated sit down or two which is a bit a disappointing. Younger players will obviously find more challenging than teens and adults but this should hardly deter anyone from playing it, especially when one considers it's rather easy to procure and doesn't cost an arm and a leg like some these older games do. Don't let the game's age fool you, it can easily go toe-to-toe with anything released before or after it without batting an eyelash. CONCLUSION:
If you have an original GameBoy or a GameBoy Advance SP lying around it's practically a crime not to have this game around for a quick run-through every now and then. Again, I'll admit I'm usually not the biggest fan of first party games despite the quality they're known for but Super Mario Land 2: Six Golden Coins is a good reminder of why we - make that I - should pay more attention to the list usual suspects.
Over the last couple of years I've seen my interest in power metal simultaneously strengthen and bow and break. Without going into a band-by-band analysis, it's hard to explain why this band's work remains viable and another band's doesn't. There have been serious surprises and there has been more than enough writing on the wall. Still, the one thing I didn't see coming was my growing disinterest in Edguy. As with any lingering feeling, it didn't happen overnight and it didn't just happen with the last album (which would have been more than enough to justify it) but was growing even if I didn't want to admit it. So, if this paragraph is any indication, I've come to accept Edguy isn't the band I loved only a few years back. I've grown and they've grown (into what I haven’t a clue) so the very least I can do is be honest about it.
The problem with Edguy is ironically alluded to with the title of this album, Age of the Joker. First let's start with the word "Joker." Edguy has always been known for their wacky antics, and you don't have to look too far, especially on newer albums and singles, to see this in action. For years I found this quality endearing, but once tracks like "Lavatory Love Machine" (groan) started making their debut the hesitation to dive in head first with the insanity started to build. This feeling magically disappeared when Rocket Ride was the hot thing but it managed to boomerang back a few years after its release when I discovered that album wasn't all I thought it was. I knew I had grown tired of Edguy's humor the minute I heard "Sex Fire Religion" on Tinnitus Sanctus.
This brings us to "Age." The sad fact is Edguy's humor doesn't age well. Can anyone really listen to "Save Us Now" on Mandrake and not get the immediate urge to change the track? Alien drum bunnies may have been funny in 2001 but all it is now is a less-than-impressive filler track on an overstated "breakthrough album." Yet this is only one take on why the word "age" is so important when it comes to Edguy. Age has a lot to do with this new "rock" sound Edguy has cultivated since Tinnitus Sanctus. Now, I'm not going to say that power metal style the band adhered to before was the most fertile valley when it comes to music, but Edguy was good enough – and smart enough - to make it their own. This fails to be case with this new, aforementioned style that only serves to make the material sound dated before it is even released. In other words, Edguy's material sounds a lot older that it should, which is just ludicrous considering this is still a relatively young band. Age of the Joker is something I'd expect to come at the end of their career, not at what should be the apex. Still, looking at the pictures of the band in the booklet, I can't even be sure these are the same guys that drew my attention ten years ago.
That said, I am willing to extend a hand to Age of the Joker in the name of diplomacy. I can't say I'm in love with this album but it deserves some props for a variety of reasons. The most obvious is this is much better than the train wreck that was Tinnitus Sanctus. Second, this is a grower album. It's the kind of album you definitely need to listen to more than once for it to make its impact and reveal everything within. Do I think there is a preverbal goldmine in here? No. I don't think the album will ever prove it’s worth more than the seven out of ten I'm giving it, but it certainly isn't a cellar dweller either. The real hitch of such a situation is the album lacks a real hook; there is never a moment where I'm absolutely dying to hear a given song when I'm away from the album, something that wasn't a problem when a track like "King of Fools" made its debut.
CONCLUSION:
Is Age of the Joker the beginning of reconciliation been a band and a listener or merely a small reprieve before the rift between the two becomes insurmountable? I wish I had the answer. Still, the album has been the first measurable glimmer of hope between the two for a long time and as shaky as the truths is I'm willing to take the gamble. I've dismissed bands for less than that; let's hope Edguy makes the most of the opportunity.
“There are strengths to be found if you're willing to look for them”
Known by most gamers as Sony's answer to Squaresoft's immensely successful Final Fantasy franchise during the 32-bit era, The Legend of Dragoon is a game one will either love or hate. While I personally can't say I "hated" what the game had to offer, I can say I found it to be an unimaginative mix of cliché's that had been traveled - often times much better - by previous games like Wild Arms. Sure, The Legend of Dragoon looked pretty snazzy, but beyond the graphical presentation was a game with something to hide around every corner. A muddled translation? Check. Cardboard cutouts as characters? Check. A soundtrack rife with mixed ambitions and grasping for direction? Check and Check.
Given it's the soundtrack I'm here to talk about, it may surprise some to know I'm here to defend it (kind of) despite what the six out of ten score would imply. Still, before I leap to my somewhat strained argument, I want to acknowledge that those who attack this score for its lack of quality have more than a legitimate point. I'm not going to say that Dennis Martin and Takao Miratsu's music is particularly good because, when I'm honest with myself and compare it what else is out there, it isn't. There are games out there, even from previous generations, with better music than what The Legend of Dragoon has to offer. Yet while I acknowledge this as a "personal truth," I have to admit the game's music has pried at my subconscious enough where ignoring it simply isn't an option.
So what makes an otherwise unspectacular soundtrack noteworthy? The first reason has to do with a certain subsection of music: battle themes. I'll admit I'm a sucker for a good battle theme and the ones in Legend of Dragoon (beyond those used for the final battle) deliver... eventually. Try as I might I can't even begin to form a plausible explanation why these tracks manage to top my playlists time and time again with their rough application of rock and techno. They are far from inspired creations but really capture their given moods. For example, I love the fever pitch and adrenaline of "Battle 1," the haunting warble within "Battle 2" and the epic flavor that presides over "Boss Battle 3." When it comes to video game music I could do a lot better than these tracks, but then I don't really want to when I listen to them. Topping off this bizarre attraction is how these tracks come to such a satisfying conclusion with their respective fanfares sealing the deal.
The second thing that makes soundtrack pop is the unusual appearance of a certain sound. While the Legend of Dragoon does indeed have a sound of it's own (one that's rather unremarkable), this is (ironically) not what we're talking about. What we're talking about is a game "borrowing" a sound from a previous, somewhat related title. That game? Legend of Legaia. Listen carefully and one will hear several passages in "Twilight of Rose" (track 41) and "Reminiscence" (track 30) that can easily be mistaken for Michiru Oshima's work in Legaia. Peculiar as these instances are, I don't point them out to portray them in a positive light, as Legend of Legaia's score falls prey to many of the same vices as Dragoon's.
Rocky as the road is however, there are still some pieces that manage to crawl up from the wood work. Slightly miscast as it is, the drive in "Dart's Theme" is more than welcome as is the cheeriness one hears in "Meru's Theme." The world map themes get somewhat of a reprieve with their second outing as do dungeon themes where the desperation in "Imperial Capital Kazas" manages to stop one cold. Still, these tracks can only undo so much of the damage caused by many of the remaining tracks. It's hard to believe that tracks like "Zieg's Theme" and "Lloyd's Theme" could ever be memorable outside of them being completely disposable. Town themes seem to burst from the seams with bustling activity but it's merely a facade as is the serene stillness of the forest-based dungeon numbers.
CONCLUSION:
In the end, while I've come to appreciate some of the music on the Legend of Dragoon Original Soundtrack I believe it deserves it place at the bottom of the barrel when it comes to video game music. There's simply no way around the fact that superior music is in abundance and in existence. Yet this isn't a plea for people to avoid it all cost; it's a plea for those that are interested to be careful with this one because it certainly doesn't live up to its potential.
“Yeah, it's good. But let's not get carried away...”
Like a lot of gamers, I absolutely loved growing up when the 32/64-bit machines were at the height of the industry. So many games were born out the competition between Nintendo and Sony, yet as most know some competitions were fought and won long before the Nintendo 64 was even released. Stealing Squaresoft from Nintendo over issues like the cartridge vs. disc debate was a definite win for Sony, one the console rode all the way to the bank. Squaresoft games were and remain some of the most celebrated titles of all time, and I have to admit that Squaresoft logo became an unofficial seal of quality to me. Yet as time passes we start to see things as they are, perspective and insight crashing the party and throwing its two cents in the equation whether we like it or not.
Such is the tale of Parasite Eve, the "cinematic" RPG. While we'll obviously never see an end to long-time, jubilant fans leaping to the defense of a beloved title, I have to admit that, as a game, Parasite Eve has failed to age well. Such a view has more to do with the game's gameplay than anything else, but this doesn't mean one can't appreciate the myriad of other things the game accomplished and still manages to do well. That said, most games are not defined by a sole element, games come together when their individual components work with one another. Some parts may be stouter than others, and some parts may even be able to stand on their own. It's this line of thinking that relates to perceived strength of the Parasite Eve Original Soundtrack, a soundtrack that continues to receive a significant amount of accolades thirteen years after its release.
Starting up this two disc set, it really not hard to see why Parasite Eve's score has maintained such a consistent following. Along with "Chaosium Sword" from Ninja Gaiden II: The Dark Sword of Chaos, "Primal Eyes" has my vote for best video game opening ever. Its mix of rock and techno is just so powerful, so visceral that you can't help but know it lives beyond physical confines of your speakers. Yet as I try to steer this paragraph into a fairytale ending that everything is as good as candy on the Parasite Eve soundtrack, I can't. While some would have you believe that all of the game's music is capable of standing on its own, a sizable portion of Parasite Eve's music is dependant on context. Actually, make that highly dependant on context. There are pieces here - like the three part "Memory" series - that can't live beyond their usage in the game. This doesn't derail the experience per say but it does mean it's a lot less bulletproof than it is at first sight.
Another battle that rears its head in the early going is the confrontation between the lesser used survival horror stylings ("Mystery Notes," "Gloom and Doom" and "The Surface of the Water") and the techno influences the game is known for. The latter can shine when given the proper treatment ("Missing Perspective") but it's obvious it can't hold up against the sound that makes this soundtrack what it is. Yet when one speaks of what makes this soundtrack what it is, many listeners seem to underestimate the importance of repetition within Shimomura's work. Considering the style of music that dominates this score, I think most would believe the incorporation of such an element would be a given, but certain tracks (like the wonderful "The Omission of the World") come under fire for this while other tracks ("Wheel of Fortune," "U.B.") get away scot-free.
But speaking of being guilty, Parasite Eve does run into legitimate trouble with its use of repetition. The obvious culprit here is something a lot of soundtracks do: their over reliance of the main theme. This isn't much of a problem in-game when different situations call for different kinds of tracks (battle, field/area and scene) but it's definitely compounded in soundtrack form. A related problem, one Parasite Eve shares with the Brave Fencer Musashi Original Soundtrack, is the synthesized opera singing. As essential as this in driving home the setting and mood of the game, I think most can probably agree that this pushes the hardware's sound capabilities to its limits which is pretty unattractive in and of itself. That said it's far from being a real deterrent.
CONCLUSION:
When all is said and done, is Parasite Eve still one of the defining soundtracks of the 32-bit era? While most would unwaveringly say yes I'd have to lean towards no. A few years ago I would have paraded this score around as a flawless masterpiece but simply see things I didn't see back then. I am glad I've had that time to reflect on what's here and I'm glad I can be that honest with myself. The score definitely deserves most of the praise it receives but a little more criticism wouldn't hurt it.
Like most collectors, my interest 1987 Donruss Baseball can be summed up with the following phrase: Greg Maddux rookie card. In my younger days I was a huge fan of Maddux, especially when he was traded to the Altanta in 1993. Anyways, I got the urge to obtain the card when a co-worker started talking baseball and Maddux with me. Soon afterwards I ordered two boxes in attempt to obtain a few copies of the card - at least one for me and one for him - and in the end I got two. As cut and dry as such a story may seem, there were some unexpected twists.
First of all, given that this set is from 1987, don't expect quality of the cards to be up to today's standards as far as centering goes. I was really hoping to pull a Maddux worthy of being graded like my dad did (he pulled a Beckett 9.5 Gem Mint out of a box such as this) but I ended up sorely disappointed. In all honesty, my father lives a charmed life when it comes to pulling great cards and I've always been more-or-less doomed to live in his shadow. Given my experience, I'd suggest you forgo looking through packs and just buy the card from a dealer so you can see what you're getting if your concerned about condition like I was.
This feeling is further enhanced by some of the other cards that make up the set. When compared to Donruss sets from 1988 into the mid 1990's, a set of 1987 Donruss has a decent book value. Still, the thing that hurts this set is the Barry Bonds rookie. Yeah, it may be worth ten dollars or so but who really wants this thing? I pulled three of these (and figures one of them looks good enough to grade) and don't look forward to sitting on them for the next twenty years. Who wants the rookie card for someone that systematically ruined the game and tarnished one of its most hallowed records?
CONCLUSION:
Don't be tricked into taking a bunch of undesirable material just to obtain the Maddux rookie. My friend and I are glad to have the card in our collections but I'm just as unhappy having three Bonds rookies I'll never do anything with except loathe.
When it comes to newspaper comics, it's difficult to explain how my interest came about. For the most part, reading the newspaper was far from a daily ritual until I started working at my current job. Having an hour compared to the half hour lunches of the past, to most it would be no surprise that I'd want some reading material to go along with my cup of coffee. Quaint as that may seem, little did I know I'd find something nestled between the stories of the local paper, something unexpected....
Nowadays it's almost a forgone conclusion for me to check out the latest adventures of Big Nate and Cow & Boy. My attraction to Big Nate is more than obvious, it being a much more sophisticated take on the formula that fuels the ever popular Diary of a Wimpy Kid books, but the reasons behind my enjoyment of Cow and Boy remain elusive. As problematic as that would seem, I don't think I really need a reason to justify it - it just works.
Still, with Big Nate teaming with life through its book releases, I was interested in what I could find for Cow and Boy. That's what leads me to this book and the one thing that holds it back. That thing? Unlike the current strips in the newspaper, Boy is a bit younger in this collection and, while it's a silly argument given that one of the main characters is a talking cow, I have a hard contemplating someone this young tackling concepts this deep. I don't mean this as an insult - I'm sure kids are capable of deep thought - but the fact that Boy seems to be a teenager (or a tween) in newer strips really helps in ironing out this issue.
CONCLUSION:
As silly as that little qualm of mine is, the book delivers on every other front. In all honesty, the only thing I could really ask for is another release. I'm sure I'm not the only one wants a book of newer strips to complement this collection, but it is definitely overdue if it doesn't exist already. Still, eager as I may be to check out the strip during the week, I'm more than willing to uncover what makes Cow and Boy so devilishly alluring.
A few years ago, newspaper comics were something that didn't concern me. While it's true that we all live inside our own bubble, those hour lunches at work give me a chance to check out the local newspaper when I otherwise wouldn't. It's from these brief moments away from the insanity that is retail that I discovered I had a favorite comic strip, or rather comic strips.
It's really hard to explain how I became attracted to Cow and Boy, but the reasons are all too clear when it comes to Big Nate. Ironically, that reason is hinted at on the cover of these books where Jeff Kinney (author of the Wimpy Kid series) is quoted as being a fan of Big Nate. It's not too hard to see the connection between the two, but it's their differences that are of note and what ultimately make Big Nate superior. Kinney's Greg Huffley is brat and there are times where I absolutely loath his selfish behavior. This is never the case with Nate who, while not immune to blissful ignorance of childhood, at least acts like he's part of the universe and not the sole reason for its being.
As it stands, "On a Roll" is another solid outing in a series I hope to follow to its conclusion. Still, at the same time I can't say this one is a slam dunk like the previous volumes. The best thing I can say about the book is unlike "In a Class by Himself" I didn't see the ending of this one coming from a mile a way, which was a definite buzz kill. This time around, Peirce focuses on Nate's adventures in winning a custom designed skateboard. The overall plot is fine but its focus comes at the expense of character interaction and variety. For example, despite the opening it's not long before Nate's life at school takes a back seat and that's a setting where Big Nate derives some of its biggest laughs.
CONCLUSION:
"On a Roll" isn't without its problems but its way too early to hit the panic button. Whereas Kinney has a real problem brewing with his main character in the Wimpy Kid books, Peirce has a long way to go before he even gets close to such a conundrum.
Growing up in the mid and late 1990's, I was huge fan of almost every Nicktoon Nickelodeon put out. A decade or two later I have to question what in the hell happened to good, *original* Nicktoons and why it took so long for Nickelodeon to release this massive backlog of material. Sorry Nickelodeon, no matter how you try and bill it Dragon Ball Z Kai will never be a true "Nicktoon" nor will any of these other cartoons you have based off brain-dead movie IPs. Real "Nicktoons" aren't transplants from other stations or comics. Real Nicktoons are what you're releasing with these sets from Shout Factory and I will line up around the corner to buy these over anything you produce today.
As high as my standards may be for what constitutes a Nicktoon, even I can't say these cartoons have survived the years completely unscathed. As sure as I was that something like Rocko's Modern life would be as good as it was back in 1996, current realities where more than enough to snap me out of my nostalgia filled bliss. Don't get me wrong, these shows are still great but they're being viewed by a much older viewer and it's obvious that some episodes and seasons are simply better than others. The Angry Beavers Seasons 1&2 set is no different, although my experience with it has been a bit more favorable than some of the other releases.
Season one starts out extremely well on the first disc but some trouble starts brewing even before season two takes the stage. Some of these episodes have rather bizarre settings and characters. While there isn't an episode I'd flat-out call a failure, I usually crave the episodes (like "You Promised!") where things are a bit more streamlined. Still, the series generally makes up for its low points with the elements that make up its world like the cheesy black and white horror movies that Dag and Norbert are always watching, something that’s cleverly given its own episodes with the excellent "Food of the Clods" and "The Day the Earth Got Really Screwed Up."
CONCLUSION:
That said I'm eager to own all these sets despite how time has slightly changed my perception of these cartoons. It's not always easy to dive in and enjoy them as I once did, but in general these cartoons are light-years beyond what children are watching now. I have to say I find that rather troubling, but at least parents who grew up with the Angry Beavers can change that.
When I wrote my review for Wild Arms Alter code:F I thought I had adequately portrayed the disappointment I had with the product being an accurate recreation of one of my all-time favorite games. While nothing in that respect has changed in the last few days with the additional hours I’ve tacked onto my file that time leads me to believe I was too easy on the game. Granted, one doesn’t want to appear to be foaming at the mouth in a review for the sake of the reader, but I feel like a mad dog in that I honestly don’t want to waste anymore time in playing such a stale facsimile. Honestly, how one is supposed to level up Jack’s last two Fast Draws without going completely insane? Finding high level enemies near a rest point is impossible (bosses are the only enemies that really exceed 40~50) and why does everything in this game have to feel like a chore? If I want to do chores I’ll do chores, not play this overbearing excuse for a video game.
As I said previously, I’m done making excuses for Media Vision’s various failures. The time for such a decree is long overdue but the problem is that every game after Wild Arms 2 is a failure. Most know that Alter code:F is merely a dressed up version of Wild Arms 3 so it goes without saying it's plagued by almost all the same short comings. With those two games down for the count, Wild Arms 4 tried everything humanly possible to reinvent itself amidst the battle where the changing tides signified console RPG’s weren’t as relevant as they once were. Hell, even the series tenth anniversary wasn’t enough to save the fifth installment from itself, which more than proved to me it was over even though it was an improvement over the last game.
It’s over. Is there any other group of words with that kind of stopping power? Still, there’s the old saying that every ending is a new beginning. As sad as it was in general, I couldn’t have been happier with Capcom’s decision to put Mega Man on the shelf and quit making games. Why? No further erosion of the Mega Man brand, something they’ve have been more than efficient at doing over the last few years. The same really goes for Wild Arms which outlived it’s usefulness by a console generation. That said, I can’t recommend the first two games on the original PlayStation enough, a place where limitless imagination gave us Metal Demons and encroaching parallel universes – concepts that remain unmatched by their 128-bit brethren. Anyway, do I really morn the loss of Wild Arms? Not really, it was lost a long time ago before they stopped making the games. Yet such thought doesn’t stop one from thinking about all the missed opportunities, Alter code: F being one that should have been a no-brainer.
When it comes to this player and video games, the past is an all you can eat buffet. The past is a fertile valley of known knowns while the future (while in high definition) is bleak and dark. Games sure do look pretty these days, but beyond that has anything really changed? Gameplay hasn’t evolved nearly as much as developers would like one to believe and original ideas are few and far between. Well, the last point is rather moot because originality in the world of video games has become somewhat of a parody of itself. Whenever a game popularizes a genre, in comes a flood of similar products vying for the same slice of the pie. Shooters fit that bill right now while console RPG’s where the big thing back in the late 1990’s. Really, looking at the original PlayStation’s library of games it’s not really hard to see where trends were heading.
Still, as much as I profess my love of video games for systems that have gone to the great cloud keeper in the sky, I can’t say I find playing games to be easy. Huh? To put it another way, while I have no problem stuffing my coffers with great games I’ve previously played and owned, I find it extremely hard to sit down and put time into a game. It really doesn’t mater if I enjoyed the hell out of it the last time around, it’s just hard. With such a revelation laid bare, one may question why I would even bothered to pick up Wild Arms Alter code:F. Well, it has to do with the PlayStation original, one of my all-time favorites which I recently re-completed. The original finished, I figured why not give the 05’ remake a spin considering it hasn’t been touched since it first came out? Unfortunately, six years is decent sized chunk time for memories and opinions to fade, and my oh my did I need a refresher course on this one. So in the spirit of relaying the foundation, let’s tackle what Alter code:F has to offer, brick by brick by looking at the back over of this behemoth.
A treasured classic returns in an all-new RPG saga!
I think most would agree this statement belongs in oxymoron land. I don’t think one should get to call a remake an “all-new RPG saga.” It just doesn’t hold water. It’s like saying cougars would make good house pets. Tongue-in-cheek as this really is, this overstatement is important because it hints at what Alter code:F wants to be. As for calling the original Wild Arms a “classic,” well, I try and avoid terms that draw lines in the sand when talking about video games. Personally, I call games I’m smitten with “personal classics” but I guess I will indulge some advertising and say, yes, Wild Arms is a classic despite going toe to toe with a game like Final Fantasy VII. If not, why would I have been so excited about this product’s impending release?
Wild Arms Alter code: F features a variety of technical and artistic advancements along with an updated storyline.
Without plunging into a bulleted list of what “advancements” Alter code:F’s has to offer, I find it more pressing to talk about what Alter code attempts do with it’s various changes, or rather the message behind it. As most know this is no mere port of the PlayStation classic, but a “revisioning” that most bill as a “remake.” As simple as such a label appears, make no mistake that Alter code:F, as a game, wants to be seen as more than a remake. The game may appear to embrace that which is based but at the same time it wants to be its own separate entity. It’s this dual nature that makes Alter code:F unique, but as most would expect, such a scheme is hardly foolproof. Even from the most basic of viewpoints, it’s easy to tell the game tries to be more than it is when it tries to improve upon already successful material. There is perhaps no better example of this other than the music of Michiko Naruke.
Much like the works of other prominent video game composers like Final Fantasy’s Nobuo Uematsu, a sizable portion of the series success can be attributed to Naruke. I’m not going to sit here and place Naruke among the elite composers of the industry (she isn’t) but it’s almost a forgone conclusion for one to think of “To the End of the Wildnerness” when they hear a random whistle. Still, such nostalgia aside, the score for the original game worked so well because its ideas weren’t drenched in unnecessary complexity. So how does that concept translate years later given the various the advancements in sound technology? Not so well. Somewhere along the line, Naruke forgot that too much bombast can be a bad thing. Time after time, over zealous instruments take turns - and fail - at making previously successful tracks even more successful. Yet this problem is not limited to just the music but has been ingrained in almost every aspect of Alter code:F. Ironically, Naruke starts to find her groove with new pieces like “Determination, and then...” which more than make up for the classics she botches. Still, it’s somewhat sad that Naruke’s score is one of the better aspects of this remake despite its hitches.
Beautifully rendered CGI graphics based on the original material found in the video game and anime series.
Saving my thoughts on Alter code’s graphical prowess for later on, I want focus on design, artwork and sources of inspiration. Out of these three, it obvious that sources of inspiration (“original material”) is the most important given it’s going to affect the remaining categories. As expected, I have a bit of a bone to pick with using the anime series as “original material.” Like most anime adaptations, Twilight Venom takes a lot of liberties with the “real” original material (the original video game) so calling this “original material” is a gross misrepresentation. Now, given most people picking up Alter code:F in 2005 were fans of the original (why anyone else would play such a dated game is beyond me) to most it would make sense to keep the original’s art style intact, right? What seems like common sense to me and you is completely lost on those behind Alter code:F.
So why is the art direction so important with Wild Arms and Wild Arms Alter code:F? Because it has everything to do with the impression Japanese culture made on American audiences back in 1997 with games like Final Fantasy VII. Again, sounding like a broken record, Final Fantasy VII introduced a myriad of things to a new audience, one of those things being anime. Yet while many continue to credit Final Fantasy VII with making anime look “hip” in the west, the original Wild Arms and its opening video drove that message forward even more, to me at least. So when think of or see anime, Wild Arms is less than a hop, skip and a jump away. This is why the original art style is so important and why the new art style in Alter code:F is such a blunder. The list of things born out of this change that annoy me is never ending: I really hate the way Jack’s new gloves look (grrr!), I really hate the look of the Protowing/Gullwing and I really hate how Jack only draws his sword for Fast Draws. Really, you’re going to sit there and try and convince me that a swordsman is going to half-heartedly “punch” things instead of sawing them in half because it’s a “normal” hit? Sure… that’s a battle you’re bound to win Media Vision.
All and all, the taking of “liberties” is a battle that Alter code:F loses to various degrees, something I’ll point at more as we come across each category but as for the number of changes that result in actual “improvements” the number is rather low. I’ll give them the concept of Rudy attacking with his ARM on normal attacks instead of a sword, that’s a pretty well thought out change, but it also results in some of the game’s lowest lows. If anyone wants to seriously stand there and tell me that Rudy’s collection of cartridges is more impressive than the guns he wielded in the original I would take extreme pleasure in laughing at you until my sides hurt. Quite honestly, if this is the best they can do I rather this game was more of an updated carbon copy of the original. Actually, if that’s what Alter code:F was it be of a much higher quality, not the physical manifestation of uninspired seconds.
A redeveloped script with new plot twists and puzzle solving.
Surely they jest using the term “redeveloped script.” For the most part, what the player reads emulates what was said in the original only, you know, sloppier. The original had its flaws (like Berserk being translated as Belselk which is actually a much better name in my opinion) but like a lot of players out there, I can’t say I’m happy with Agetech getting the rights to localize and publish this thing, especially considering the year of delays we where hit with. Allowing this game to percolate on the burner for another year certainly didn’t help it in the long run. Ironically, the most intriguing changes to the script are things that ultimately mean nothing. Wait a minute, did they just use the pronoun “she” in a reference to Alhazad? I always thought Alhazad was a he, not a she. Other changes are the result of omissions (The Maze of Death and Tripillar were nuked out of existence and replaced with lame substitutions) and the Gate Generator occurs after the Demon’s Lab rather than the Fallen Sanctuary. Still, most of the liberties the game makes with its subject matter fail when placed side by side with the original which makes one wonder what makes it so stilted, the original writing or the translation.
The same can really be said of the game’s puzzle solving. While there are some would hate to admit it, the quality of Wild Arms’ puzzle solving has been in free fall since Wild Arms 3. The newer the Wild Arms game is, the more painful the attempt at recapturing that past magic ends up being. The real kick in the pants is how watered down the solutions have become. I remember getting stuck on certain puzzles for days in the original the first time I played it. To some, that would seem more like an annoyance than a virtue, but when I look back at the since of pride I got once I discovered the solution and it was more than worth the temporary obstruction. Alter code:F can’t conjure such emotion because it’s simply not of the same caliber. Well, that’s not entirely true. The game manages to offer some intriguing puzzle solving with the Puzzle Box side quest that’s much improved over the original build seen in Advanced 3rd. Seriously, you could make a game consisting only of these puzzles, call it “Puzzle Box,” charge me fifty dollars for it and I’d line up around the corner to buy it like I did for this game - only I’d be much more content. It’s sad day when a side quest portion of a game is more attractive than the quest that’s meant to propel it forward.
Going hand-in-hand with such disappointment is dungeon design. Does anyone remember when dungeons were more than soulless, flyby item drive-throughs? I can, and that era seemed to end with the closing of the 32/64 bit era. Unlike many of the other problems found within Alter code:F, I can’t say this isn’t a problem is exclusive to Wild Arms or the RPG genre. It’s dumbfounding how insipid level design has become these days and people wonder why I latch onto memories of ten or even fifteen year old games. It’s not really too hard to comprehend is it? Earlier games had to made up for their lack of gloss with design; now that graphics have became the main event design has taken a backseat, the number of polygons a “engine” can push and how speedy the framerate is being everyone’s main concern.
More than 60 hours of game play on a Dual Layer DVD.
I don’t know about anybody else, but a game a promising me sixty hours of gameplay isn’t quite the proposition it use to be. Sure, there was a time where I saw a lengthy completion time as a virtue, as something that added value to a game. Due to that warped sense of logic, I once believed that the RPG was superior to every other genre out there simply because they were longer. Fifty hours to complete a fifty dollar game automatically meant I got the biggest bang for my buck, right? Fast forward a decade and a half and I realize how dumb those thoughts really were. Sixty hours? I still have no life like I did back then but can barely play a game for more than an hour at time these days. I thought my attention span was suppose to get better (longer) with age but all age has bought with it is an inescapable sense of maturity. I still like to play video games but sitting in front of the TV for that long to play a game? I completed the original Wild Arms in a little less than thirty hours and got a great return on my investment. I would play Alter code: F for over sixty and feel half empty because half of that time was mere fluff, doing inane things for the sake of completeness because of the perfectionist I am – one of my most annoying flaws.
A mere fifteen hours in I remember looking at the back of game case at this particular buying point thinking “what did I get myself into?” Ironically, a good chunk of those hours were spent leveling Jack’s lame-ass Fast Draws. Outside the fact these attacks look insanely flaccid to those in the original (what I wouldn’t give to have seen a Magnum Fang or Guilty Blade; hell, even the simplistic Meteor Dive would have been a treat) the amount of time I spent making these attacks and Jack economical was psychotic. I can see the need to ditch Secret Signs since they were easy to abuse but to replace it with system that requires so much work when no other character requires such a commitment is completely shortsighted. Okay, so Rudy’s ARMS require a heaping handful of Gella to maintain, but in typical Wild Arms fashion there’s a simple method around that and makes the remainder of the game your bitch. Again, you don’t have to level up these attacks, but I doubt anyone wants to use up their MP reserves in two measly attacks. Couple this with Jack’s ridiculously low MP, lack of a real MP restoration item, the fact if you are over eager to level up (there’s a trick for this too) the formula behind Fast Draws will screw you and you can start to see how mindful you have to be about certain things compared to, oh I don’t know, actually enjoying the game.
New playable characters round out the familiar cast of adventurers, adding depth to the tactics and battle system.
Saying there is any depth and tactical elements to Alter code:F’s battle system is extremely charitable. Once certain abilities are learned (like Gattling Raid, Brave Seal, Great Booster) most battles - boss battles, because these will be the only fights you’ll be fighting the more you play (more on that later) will come down to repeating the same pattern. I guess that could be seen as a “strategy” per say and sure, the original game was rather simplistic in that respect but I’m willing to give a game released in 1997 a lot more leeway than one released in 2005. Alter code:F (and to a little lesser extent Wild Arms 3) like to act as if nothing has changed since 1997. What’s really changed since the first game besides the Inertia Cancel? MP has returned for obvious reasons but besides that nothing. While this evolutionary, dead-end cycle was going on, other games were presenting with intriguing new takes on RPG combat. I’m not going to tout them as flawless (even something as refreshing as Legend of Legaia has its flaws) but at least they were mixing things up.
Adding to the combat crisis are the characters themselves. For the sake of all that’s good and holy, let’s get the big one out of the way: Rudy is a god. The supposedly redeveloped script puts more of an emphasis on the power of ARM (I would have said “ARMs” but I had to poke fun at the oddball way this is written in-game) so we had to make Rudy insanely powerful and destroy any semblance of balance. Remember the good old days where Rudy ARMs and Jack Fast Draws were on somewhat even ground? Okay, so Cecilia had to cast Hyper on Jack so his Fast Draws could equal out to a good strong ARM attack like Rudy’s Phaser but offensively both characters carried an equal amount of clout. Jack would occasionally need to fall back on Heal Blade (which I miss) to help out Cecelia giving Rudy the edge as the all-out attack character but you get what I’m saying. A dynamic such as this is totally lost in Alter code:F because the sole purpose of remaining characters eventually becomes turning Rudy a one-man death machine. Unlike Wild Arms 3 where HP totals took the Gattling Force ability into consideration because every character had it, the same can’t be said here when it comes to bosses encountered during the main story. Every once in while the game will try and throw a unique boss situation your way but players with even the slightest grasp of RPGs will be able to strong-arm their way through them with little effort.
Stunning FMV cut-scenes relays the story like never before!
If we’re talking about the drawn anime FMV one sees when they load a game I have to say the video that opened the 1997 original is vastly superior and more impressive. I’m not just referring to the slightly stilted character redesign (something that should have been left alone) but quality in general. Honestly, there are a few points within where the animation seems to be missing some frames. Obviously, as other aspects of the game imply, the game didn’t exactly have the biggest budget, something that would become even more apparent with Wild Arms 4. Now, if we’re talking about CGI cut-scenes things are much worse. These scenes are just slightly enhanced, in-game engine videos that leave a lot to be desired. Really, they look like something a fledgling 3D modeler would come up with in a computer graphics class, not something that should be gracing a fifty dollar video game. There are earlier PlayStation 2 games that look better than this despite their age. There are PlayStation 2 games with in-game engines that look better than this. I’m sorry, I’m not usually this much of a graphics whore but when you write loaded statements you should expect some witty retort in return.
Stunning Graphics Engine – Detailed characters, enemies and environment truly bring this game to life.
They sure do like to use the word “stunning” don’t they? Unfortunately, despite the emphasis there is nothing stunning about the graphical engine used in Wild Arms Alter code:F. Why? Well, there’s a multitude of reasons, many of which were already explained above. The first is more than obvious: Wild Arms Alter code:F is the original Wild Arms slapped in a Wild Arms 3 shell. The game uses the exact same engine employed by the 2002 sequel and it shows from things like borrowed spell animations to the odd pixilation problem that still exists. (I noticed Media Vision!) Really, it’s hard to take any boast about the game’s graphical prowess seriously. The real problem is while it acceptable in and of itself, does everything have to be so uninspired? I appreciate the wider color palette (the lack of which simultaneously hurt and helped Wild Arms 3) but do towns have to be so small? Do all the attacks and enemies have to look so flat and boring? I’m really tired of using that old “it’s still well crafted excuse” to justify the fact I’m dealing with stuff like this. The original game may have pushed way fewer polygons in battle yet my character’s attacks looked way more attractive? That just isn’t right. Additionally, while everything is now three-dimensional, the 3D rarely makes a given scene more impressive than it was back in 1997. There are only a small handful of scenes that truly knock me on my ass with their looks and three of them happen in the Guardian Temple when the guardians peer into Jack, Rudy and Cecilia’s hearts. Still, I’d got chills watching these scenes in 2D. The game’s last great scene is a new addition dealing with Rudy, Surf Village and the guardian of Hope and is the main reason fans should check this game out. So, I guess the graphics can bring the game to life – once every blue moon.
Evolved Battle System – Control up to six party members to combat the forces of evil.
Again, “evolved” is pushing it. I guess I understand printing lies and half truths to push your product when it’s this outdated, but then given this is a remake I don’t think customers were expecting any kind of grand evolution. Anyway, beyond picking on some failed advertising at least the latter half of this is true. The roster is doubled this time around, two of the characters proving insanely useful (in turning Rudy into a behemoth) and the third proving insanely useless and rather surprising. Still, while I could just copy and paste everything I’ve previously said about combat here, there are some other issues we haven’t tackled yet. I don’t know about anyone else, but is the encounter rate high enough for you? Seriously, makes the original look that much better even though there wasn’t a cancel system. Speaking of the cancel encounter system, about half way through the game it’s going to be your best friend if you have enough Migrant Medals. Why? Thanks to the easy level-up method there’s no reason to fight a normal battle ever again! If I can get a level or two between each dungeon/boss by fighting Mega Apples what’s there to keep me from sailing though dungeons outside surprise attacks that come courtesy of low luck? Honesty and integrity? Sure, let’s go with that… all I know is fifty million cancels later I can put the game away.
Another sore spot is the fact that equipment is still a thing of the past. Man, where ever you turn the lame ideas presented in Wild Arms 3 infest this game! I don’t know about anyone else, but I really enjoyed stumbling upon new pieces of equipment for my characters in the original. What’s this? Ooooh, a new piece of armor! I wonder who it goes on! Let’s see! Yay, it’s for Rudy! This experience may seem kind of trivial in the vast scheme of a RPG, but it’s these commonplace things that Wild Arms 3 overlooked and took for granted in exchange for one of the messiest the skill systems in existence. And speaking of things related to the skill system, I also miss assigning runes (materials) to my characters! It was always a thrill getting a new rune and seeing who got the biggest bang out of it. Those days are gone and over in Alter code:F now that Cecilia has complete reign over summons in exchange for her mystic ability. You can make enemy pay dearly if you cast the right material (hell, with a decent level and FP Advance you can end most battles before they even begin) but it comes at the cost of character customization. I guess the skill system kind of makes up for that but it’s far from exciting. Gee, who would have ever thought to but HP ups on Cecilia or put critical ups on Rudy and Jane? Seriously, you’ve done this all before in a game called Final Fantasy IX.
Last but not least, can we kill off the Crossfire Sequence yet? I love how Wild Arms 3 touted this like it was next big thing in RPG battles but it’s not. Having characters and enemies troll around the battlefield between every attack is just a big time-waster and when one considers how much time they’ve wasted with the majority of this game it’s a poorly concocted combo. I just love how the long distances between enemies and the player’s characters magically disappear during a critical hit. Very realistic. I think most would agree in an old-school RPG like this battles should be as straightforward and as quick as possible. Things are a bit more streamlined when fighting on the high seas, but those moments are the vast minority.
CONCLUSION:
I really wanted to like Wild Arms Alter code: F the second time around, but as optimistic as I was when I first but the disc in my PlayStation 2 my enthusiasm evaporated as the hours dragged by. The reason why is simple: the 1997 original had soul while this remake reminds one how game design has become a blind, corporate mechanism. Wild Arms deserves more than this and that’s why I had no choice but to take each oversold selling point on the back cover and knock them down a peg or two. I may have been able to turn a blind eye to the series various failings in the past, but I can no longer candy coat the truth to protect my fragile psyche. I have to be honest, pull the band-aid off and admit that playing the later games in the series is like hitting the snooze button over and over again in a vain attempt to sleep in. Sure, you may have gotten a few extra winks, but you’re more tired than you would have been if you had just gotten your lazy bones up in the first place.
Additionally, Alter code:F proves it is not just a copy of a previously successful game. No. Alter code:F feels like a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy. It’s a like a message that goes though a handful people and bits and pieces of it get misconstrued. The message may essentially say the same thing in the end, but in no way is it the same as hearing the message oneself. In other words, Alter code:F’s could have been something, it could have been a spectacular companion piece to the PlayStation original. Instead, Alter code:F’s so fake it almost feels like an insult; it’s so fake one can’t help but wish it’s lackluster experience was a dream. Unfortunately, we’re not asleep and one cannot fully understand how inferior it really is until they play it and the original.
1-27) Inn
