Editor’s note: Brian describes how he grew up and expanded his horizons through the great games of the Nintendo 64 and PlayStation years. I especially like his views on some of the more sophisticated themes of Final Fantasy 7, Final Fantasy Tactics, and Xenogears. -Jason
Being an elementary school student was a lot of fun. Although my parents were strict, I had few responsibilities and was generally free from anxiety. I was an avid gamer from a young age, and the 16-bit era only increased my enthusiasm for video games.
In my first entry, I explained how games like Mario, Zelda, Final Fantasy 4, and Chrono Trigger had an enormous impact on me, transforming me into a lifelong gamer. Even though these titles were quite impressive, they were only the beginning.
The 16-bit era is one of my favorite periods in the history of video games, but the age to come would have an equally monumental impact on me. Before the advent of 32- and 64-bit systems, rumors grew about consoles that would allow gamers to experience “Virtual Reality.”
These faux-life-producing machines were supposedly only a stone’s throw away, but the Virtual Boy proved that VR systems were merely a pipe dream. What hyped me up more than Calvin on Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs was the impending release of the Nintendo 64.
My former friend Mike, who I owe greatly for introducing me to many niche role-playing games, had an impressive collection of gaming magazines. In one of his issues of EGM, I first witnessed Mario 64. That’s the first time that I remember a game nearly making me faint.
I was excited about Super Mario RPG thanks to its platforming gameplay combined with many traditional elements of an RPG, but Mario 64 felt like it was on another level. Mario 64’s massive 3D worlds and polygonal characters were simply mind-blowing.
I had been to an arcade by that point, so I’d already witnessed visually impressive games like Virtua Fighter, Virtua Cop, and Daytona USA, but never before had a I seen a 3D game (especially on a home console) that left me speechless. Mario 64 impressed me so much that I began thinking about potential 3D games during recess in fifth grade (between creating make-believe Chrono Trigger and Final Fantasy 4 sequels, of course).
I imagined a 3D Donkey Kong, a sequel to Mario RPG, and an impressive-looking Zelda title where you could ride a horse through dense forests to escape pursuing soldiers. At the time, the possibilities for unique 3D games seemed endless.
My interest in Mario 64 was once again rekindled during E3, but in the meantime, I played my first PlayStation game. I actually first experienced the PlayStation with Battle Arena Toshinden in Japan while on a class trip.
Even though many gamers would now place Toshinden in the fighting game Hall of Shame, it got me excited for future 3D fighters. I especially liked that it included weapons instead of plain ol’ fisticuffs. When I returned home, I rented a PlayStation along with Twisted Metal and Toshinden.
Those games were fun for awhile, but being a Nintendo fanboy, I was never compelled to buy a PlayStation. I also wouldn’t think about using the Saturn for anything other than a doorstop.
I had just come from an era where RPGs were plentiful, but I made a significant change after the start of sixth grade. Mario 64’s release was nearly upon me, so I quickly forgot about Mario RPG and eagerly awaited “The Fun Machine.” This 64-bit console was supposed to launch on September 29, but being the eager gamer that I was, I decided to reserve the system several months ahead of time.
I had been saving money for the sleek black console (hey, it seemed sleek then) for over a year, and I even sold my Genesis with all two games to ensure that I had enough money for the system of the future and Mario 64. Luckily for me, the 64-bit console arrived at Toys ‘R Us a day early.
I badgered the poor employees on the phone and made a 30-minute bike ride to pick up the system. When I got home, my 11-year-old self exploded with joy. Even though Mario 64 had an enormous amount of hype riding behind it, I was still blown away.
I’d demoed the game at Toys ‘R Us a month earlier, but Mario 64 just didn’t feel real. It took me over a month to recover from the shock that was Mario 64. I remember having a few friends over that would fight to have the opportunity to play Mario 64. The game’s massive worlds consumed our lives for months.
One of my favorite memories in the entire history of video games is turning on Mario 64 and witnessing the Princess’ well-maintained lawn overlooked by a massive castle. Once inside the castle, the magical paintings and numerous doors felt like something I would have loved to explore as a young kid.
When I finally jumped into the first world, Bob-omb Battlefield, I was entranced by the massive level (or actually, series of levels) that awaited me. I witnessed huge hills, three-dimensional Goombas, enormous Chain Chomps, and a sumo-sized Bob-omb King.
Mario 64’s massive worlds were clearly a significant departure from the condensed levels of Mario games of the past, but what impressed me the most was not the graphics; rather, it was the incredible play control.
Never before had I experienced so much control over a video game character. Using the analog stick to make Mario tip-toe or run quickly was a thrill that I probably hadn’t experienced since I first learned to walk. Sneaking past Piranha Plants and performing backflips that’d make a gymnast jealous felt as exciting as riding a skyscraper-sized roller-coaster.
I could go on and on about Mario 64, but what made that game important to me is that it drew me into 3D worlds. Like many other gamers, for years I’d ignore “outdated” 2D in favor of games that packed on the polygons.
Mario 64 may have launched me into 3D realms, but it wasn’t the only game that made me fall in love with polygons. I also eagerly anticipated Mario Kart 64, Star Fox 64, GoldenEye, Zelda, and Mario RPG 2. When Mario Kart 64 arrived, I was treated to a thrilling multiplayer experience.
Some gamers would argue that Super Mario Kart was more polished, but I loved the three-dimensional courses featuring massive jumps and numerous shortcuts. Even with missing power-ups such as the feather, there was nothing like battling on the three-story Block Fort and jumping over a bridge on Peach’s Royal Raceway.
Sure, the lengthy Rainbow Road may have sucked, but I just couldn’t go back to two-player games after playing Mario Kart 64.
Racing karts was a blast and coincided with some other fond memories, such as my parents moving to their first home, but I was even more excited to take to the skies with Star Fox 64.
I’d played a bit of the original Star Fox, but not enough to know what I was missing. I started subscribing to Nintendo Power toward the beginning of sixth grade, so I soon became familiar with the “incredible” maneuvers Fox and his animal sidekicks could perform.
Loops, U-turns, and barrel rolls sounded thrilling, so I couldn’t wait to buy Star Fox 64 when I returned home from a weekend-long church youth trip in Seattle.
What I played was not only the first game with built-in rumble, but it was a title that hooked me for weeks. I don’t look back at it so fondly now, but at the time, Star Fox had enjoyable dogfights, both in on-rails and free-roaming missions.
It was a blast looping behind enemy fighters and earning tough-to-obtain medals. I later engaged my friends in multiplayer skirmishes, but we quickly grew tired of the dull battles featuring unbalanced gameplay.
Luckily, another game featuring a British spy took up Star Fox’s slack. This surprise was another game by Rare. I wasn’t expecting much from the game until I received a Nintendo Power dossier in the mail.
It detailed the game’s previously unknown multiplayer mode. Rare had spent a few extra months adding the mode that would become GoldenEye’s greatest asset.
During middle school, I wasn’t allowed to have friends over often, but when I did, we’d have a blast playing GoldenEye. My mom found it too violent, but my dad, and even his friends, had a good time playing the game.
I made sure to handicap most of my opponents, so they wouldn’t get destroyed immediately. Even though GoldenEye’s stealthy single-player mode was fun, I got the most enjoyment out of the game’s deep multiplayer.
GoldenEye not only featured a plethora of courses of varying sizes, but it also featured several collections of guns, cheats, characters, and modes. The courses were all quite detailed and were as impressive as those found in the single-player mode. Running through vents, bathrooms, and fields of snow felt realistic in comparison to the arenas of earlier first-person shooters.
I still remember choosing a Siberian Special Forces character and sniping opponents that’d exit the Russian facility. It was also fun picking characters such as Jaws and Oddjob. I’d usually leave Oddjob to rookies, and Jaws would be reserved for veterans. In a game where you had to stop and aim to shoot, imagine how fun it was playing as a character that was 8-feet tall.
Besides the interesting characters that looked somewhat like their real-life counterparts, the sizeable arsenals were incredible. You could control unbelievably fast automatic weapons, remote mines, grenade launchers, and even throwing knives. The amount of options available was simply incredible and led to months of thrilling deathmatches.
GoldenEye was fun while it lasted, but it alone was unable to maintain my interest in the N64. I missed the days of brilliant RPGs and even the time I spent with real-time strategy games like WarCraft 2 and Command & Conquer. I had some fun with games like Mystical Ninja Starring Goemon and Blast Corps, but those meager offerings weren’t able to satisfy my craving for Zelda.
I tried renting a variety of racing games and some horrible RPGs like Quest 64, but those did nothing to stop my infuriation with Nintendo’s numerous delays. Even though I realized that quality games took a long time to develop, I couldn’t understand why Zelda was still unavailable, and why relatively few screenshots of Mario RPG 2 were available.
When I finally saw some screenshots of Mario RPG 2 in Nintendo Power, I was furious. I expected amazing 3D graphics that would at least be on-par with Mario 64, but instead, I found a game with bland 2D visuals. When I learned that Square wasn’t involved in the project, I lost faith in Nintendo and moved on to grayer pastures.
My parents were never really fans of video games, but I have to credit my dad with doing one thing right. In seventh grade, he offered to help me purchase a PlayStation. I didn’t have the money for the system, so I eagerly accepted his offer to pay half. Before seventh grade, I hadn’t even thought about purchasing a PlayStation.
I saw the system as a joke that mostly offered racing, sports, and car-combat games. I felt that the graphics were underwhelming, and there wasn’t a single game that made me want to rush out and buy the system. Three things occurred that permanently changed my mindset. The first was the screenshots of Final Fantasy 7 in a video game magazine.
Another was my growing frustration with Nintendo. And my final reason was my increased interest in “mature” games. My peers had begun calling games I liked cartoony, and they seemed fascinated by Lara Croft’s boobs, so it was only natural that I became a bit curious about this brave new world.
In early 1998, I finally took the plunge and purchased the grey CD-based system known as the PlayStation. This Costco bundle included two games, Crash Bandicoot and Bushido Blade, but those were merely appetizers.
The real full-course meal would be Final Fantasy 7. Crash was fun to mess around with, until I realized that it was basically Mario with herpes. Bushido Blade, on the other hand, was quite fun, and it was my first experience with a Square fighting game.
It wasn’t nearly as polished as many other 3D fighting games, but the large arenas and instant-death attacks made for a fresh fighting game experience. I quickly forgot those games, however, once I played Final Fantasy 7.
In February 1998, I purchased Final Fantasy 7 and invited over my friend Mike. The game’s graphics mesmerized us, as did its modern/sci-fi setting. Besides being impressed by the visuals, we were also surprised by FF7’s rampant swearing.
Thankfully, my parents didn’t notice; otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have been allowed to play the game. My dad did quickly glance at the game however, and he couldn’t believe that it was Final Fantasy, since it didn’t feature “squatty” characters.
On the day I first played FF7, I had to help my dad build and move some flower beds, but I managed to get all the way to the church where Aerith raised flowers. I quickly grew attached to the game’s somewhat stereotypical characters. Even though Cloud was a cold mercenary, I sensed a compassionate person hiding underneath.
Likewise, I understood Barret’s cause against wealthy suits who oppressed the poor. Being fairly poor in my younger years, I could relate to his struggle.
Thankfully, I also quickly recognized how acts of random violence could be destructive to other people. Even though I may sometimes sympathize with the cause of freedom fighters, I’m aware of the innocent people that can be harmed in the process.
In some ways, Final Fantasy 7 wasn’t as moving as Final Fantasy 6 — it never clearly delineated that corrupt organizations can sometimes have a few good souls. But it touched me in other ways. I was never one of those people who cried at Aerith’s death, but I did feel Cloud’s internal struggle. People who’ve never been through difficult situations can’t fully understand a character like Cloud.
Sometimes, it’s hard to find one’s self, and a good person can lurk beneath a dark exterior. Some people may see Cloud as an “emo” child, but I saw him as someone who changed from an initially cold person to an individual who cared about the world and his friends.
Cloud’s background was quite confusing, because of FFV7’s poor localization, but I also liked how the game dealt with the environment, corporate abuse, and cloning. As someone who cares about the planet and is often deeply ashamed at the actions of humanity, I was touched by Final Fantasy 7’s story. It wasn’t the most complex story to grace a video game, but it had heart.
Not many other developers at the time were willing to tackle things like terrorism and environmentalism. I found it amazing that FF7 gave a human face to terrorists. I don’t want to promote or justify terrorism, but I think it’s important that people look at issues from multiple sides.
With the Iraq War, many Americans simply assumed that Muslims and Arabs were evil terrorists bent on destroying anything civil and just in the world. While some Muslims may hate certain Americans and may even be terrorists, that doesn’t mean that it’s the case for the majority.
Also, it’s important to note that terrorists always have a reason for their actions. It may not make sense to most people, but those who’ve studied the history of various regions and cultures generally come to a greater understanding of what issues affect people. I liked how FF7 touched on this and didn’t view terrorism from an entirely negative or positive light.
Equally important to the terrorist and environmentalist issues in FF7 is its focus on class struggle. It didn’t explicitly mention social classes, but it did divide society into those who lived above the plate and those who dwelled in the slums.
The slum dwellers didn’t get to share in any of the energy consumed by Shinra, and they choked under the plate while witnessing their planet crumble. Shinra was a corporation that only cared about enriching itself at the expense of the common people. I’m not someone who is anticorporation, but I’m against those who exploit others to become wealthy.
I appreciated how FF7 touched on these issues, and I hope that it had a similar effect on people who are unaware of those who suffer.
Besides enjoying the storyline, I was also mesmerized by the incredible cut-scenes that accompanied FF7’s gameplay. Most people enjoyed cut-scenes at that point simply because they looked so impressive, but this would later become a heavily contested topic.
Personally, I never had a problem with text or video scenes in video games, as I love both books and film. Plenty of games feature nothing but pure gameplay, and I certainly don’t mind extra elements when they help flesh out the story. Art style and music are important elements of video games to me, so I appreciate the addition of cut-scenes as long as they’re well crafted.
Without FF7’s brilliant locales and Nobuo Uematsu’s emotional soundtrack, FF7 would only be a shell of what it was. That’s not to say that the gameplay wasn’t excellent like its predecessor, but the music and art work put Final Fantasy 7 on a pedestal that was difficult for other developers to reach.
Final Fantasy 7 clearly had an impact on me, but a game that influenced me in an even greater way was Final Fantasy Tactics. I’d never played a strategy-RPG and was unaware of their existence until I received a used copy of Final Fantasy Tactics for getting an excellent report card (which was the only time I remember receiving such a gift).
When I first placed FF Tactics in the tray, I had no idea what to expect. I thought that I’d find gorgeous cut-scenes and maybe another fantasy FF. Instead, I got a game that featured a grid-based battle system, but this was after witnessing an amazing opening.
Watching knights ride Chocobos over rolling hills thrilled me about the possibilities that awaited me. Even better, were Final Fantasy Tactics’ opening gameplay scenes. I remember controlling a band of knights led by a mercenary named Ramza.
We were fighting to protect a princess hiding away in a church. The fact that this game included God, religious topics, and medieval warfare intrigued me.
The opening made little sense at first, so I mostly focused on growing accustomed to Final Fantasy Tactics’ deep gameplay. Final Fantasy Tactics featured a complex grid-based battle system that was basically an evolved form of the combat found in the Super Famicom classic Tactic Ogre.
This, combined with the variety of job classes from past Final Fantasy games, made FFT a phenomenal experience. At that point, not many gamers had played Final Fantasy 3 and 4, so few of us were immediately familiar with the brilliant job system that graced Final Fantasy Tactics.
This job system included Squires, Chemists, Black Mages, Ninjas, Geomancers, and Samurai, along with over a dozen other classes. Characters would usually begin as Squires and Chemists.
By gaining enough job levels, you’d unlock other classes. You could immediately switch to a more powerful class like a Black Mage, but this often wasn’t in a player’s best interest, as the basic job classes had many useful abilities to unlock. After earning enough abilities, you could combine them with those unique to other classes.
If you wanted a Knight that could wield two swords, you’d simply need to learn that Ninja ability and transform your character into a Knight. This system is old hat to Final Fantasy fans by now, but it was quite revolutionary at the time — especially for a strategy-RPG.
Final Fantasy Tactics’ battle system so enthralled me and my friend Max that we spent over 10 hours straight, leveling our characters at Mandalia Plains, which is one of the game’s first areas. It’s not that we didn’t care about the plot, but this was the first time we’d played an RPG (that wasn’t an action-RPG) that had an addicting battle system.
Even deep battle systems like the one found in Final Fantasy 6 eventually got old for me, with the constant random battles, but Final Fantasy Tactics never seemed to get tiresome.
Despite it being a tactics game, it wasn’t Final Fantasy Tactics’ battles that most impressed me — rather, it was the incredible storyline, score, and artwork that accompanied the game. While many journalists found Final Fantasy Tactics’ storyline convoluted and incomprehensible, I found it to be one of the most brilliant plots ever to grace a video game.
It may have borrowed from events in history and various works of literature, but that was part of what made it special.
Final Fantasy Tactics’ storyline was quite deep with multiple plot threads and themes. Unfortunately, the localization made certain parts difficult to understand for some gamers. But luckily, I made it through intact.
One thing that stood out to me about FF Tactics’ storyline is that it was one of the first games to acknowledge that there was more to this world than “Good vs. Evil.” Final Fantasy Tactics included plenty of shades of gray, with each of its characters and warring factions. Even the game’s beginning questioned if what was in recorded history was really the truth.
The historian chronicling events mentions that Delita was the recorded hero, when in fact, it was really Ramza who’d saved the various kingdoms of Ivalice, before his unfortunate death.
Besides questioning recorded history and establishments, Final Fantasy Tactics was deeply concerned with class conflict. I especially enjoyed the first segment of the game, where you play as Ramza, a young noble.
He grew up spoiled in the eyes of some, but his father wanted him to be a kind man who served his subjects. His father even took in a commoner, Delita, who many of his compatriots despised.
Early in the game, you fight a band of brigands called the Death Corps, who are actually discharged knights who’d previously fought for your kingdom. They had long been out of work, and were basically left to starve during rough times that followed the previous war. Their services went unnoticed, and their government basically abandoned them.
Ramza initially tries to subdue them at the orders of his brother, but over time, he begins to question what he’s fighting for when he realizes the Death Corps’ plight. Scenes like this were important because they illustrate that conflicts are often more complex than they seem.
Even in the real world, many people simply believe what’s told by one side and ignore the plight of the other side that’s part of a conflict. Final Fantasy Tactics makes us aware that looking at the world from a “Good vs. Evil” standpoint is too simplistic.
Besides the issues of class conflict, I also loved the subplot where Delita was able to rise from a lowly commoner — to king of the land. I felt sorry for him because of how he was treated and the lack of concern his compatriots felt over the murder of his sister, so I understood why he used others.
Delita had lost faith in a world that only seemed to care about wealth and status. I didn’t agree with some of his actions, such as murdering various political figures and pronouncing himself the hero of the Lion War, but I at least understood the reasoning behind his actions.
Final Fantasy Tactics was also great because of its take on abuses of power. It showed the petty conflicts between various families for prestige and authority, and it also revealed the hypocrisy of many religious establishments. Just to be clear — I’m not against religions, but I am ashamed of the times when people use them as tools of power.
Final Fantasy Tactics was one of the first games that I’d played where god and the church were an integral part of the story, and it really resonated with me. At the time I was playing it, I had to go to a week-long church camp, where I listened to my chaperone denounce people of other faiths.
He seemed to have a problem with Muslims and argued that they didn’t believe in God, but I later realized that he was ignorant and making erroneous statements.
I’ve already went on-and-on about Final Fantasy Tactics, but the last thing I was influenced by was the game’s incredible soundtrack. I played a couple instruments from a young age, so I’ve always had some appreciation for classical music. I wasn’t someone who could name the composers of various songs, but I always liked music that moved me.
Final Fantasy Tactics had an incredible orchestral soundtrack that made you feel the appropriate emotions for each scene. The game’s battle songs were always intense, ominous, or whatever the scene called for. FF Tactics also featured a multitude of sad songs and pieces that made you feel treachery and betrayal.
Without FFT’s music, the game still would have been incredible, but the music played an important role in drawing me into the game. Games like Final Fantasy Tactics even made me a lover of video game music.
Alright, enough about FFT. Middle school was a rough time for me with numerous health issues, family problems, and a low-income school full of violent kids. Games like Final Fantasy 7 and Tactics helped me cope with these situations, but the game that had the greatest impact on me — and is still my favorite game — is Xenogears.
Now, I’m not going to argue that Xenogears is a perfect game — the graphics are sometimes muddy, it has balancing issues, random battles are too frequent, and the final dungeons are impossible to navigate without a guide. But these flaws didn’t stop Xenogears from enveloping my soul.
The first thing that drew me into Xenogears was its unique, sci-fi/fantasy aesthetic. You start the game in a quaint village that lacks modern amenities (and, of course, your character has amnesia), but you’ll soon be aware of a world that’s home to spaceships, invisible cities, and giant robots. This world was all accomplished with an anime art style.
Most gamers who don’t enjoy RPGs assume that Japanese-RPG fans are all anime nuts, but for me, that’s not the case. I have nothing against anime (although I used to). I always preferred more realistic character designs, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying some games that employed anime art styles.
Besides having anime art, Xenogears also included voiced cut-scenes. Unfortunately, the voice acting was low budget, but it didn’t really matter, as the game’s voiced, anime cut-scenes were rare. What really drew me to Xenogears was the incredible storyline.
After all these years, I’ve yet to play a game with a story I’ve enjoyed as much as the one found in Xenogears. Even though I enjoyed BioShock, I often laugh when people say that it was the first game to have a complex or “realistic” story. It’s nice that companies who don’t develop RPGs are finally taking video game stories more seriously, but some video games actually featured great plots more than a decade ago.
Like FFT, Xenogears was amazing because of its various interwoven plot threads. What I particularly enjoyed about Xenogears was that it was saturated with religious and philosophical themes. When I first played Xenogears, I was only in eighth grade, and I was raised in a fairly conservative religious background, so many of the concepts of Xenogears were new to me.
I’d always been interested in cultures other than my own and had made friends from various countries, but I hadn’t been exposed to many religions other than Christianity. In Xenogears, I found themes from Christianity, Judaism Islam, the religions known collectively as Hinduism, and Buddhism.
I also discovered the concepts of various philosophers, which I found quite interesting. I didn’t study some of these topics until a couple years later in my international high school program, but Xenogears already gave me a primer on these topics.
What made Xenogears special is that these themes and philosophical concepts were actually relevant to the characters and storyline. The main character, Fei, was plagued with various personalities, and one of these sealed personalities — was Id.
Fei actually had three selves, one that was the coward hiding inside after having various experiments performed on him, while the visible Fei was merely a shell who’d forgotten everything. Also inside Fei lurked a being with incredible powers known as Id, which is also another philosophical concept.
You don’t find out about these other personalities until you’re deep into Xenogears, but part of the game is concerned with keeping Fei’s inner powers under control. He unintentionally causes a catastrophe toward the beginning of the game, so you’re immediately made aware that Fei is no normal person.
Now, it’s been awhile since I’ve played Xenogears, so I don’t remember every single detail, but its plot really resonated with me. Some of its themes and social issues involve the corruption of religious institutions, slavery, racism, love, the male and female form, cloning, and even cannibalism.
I immediately noticed the connection between imperialistic Solaris and the United States. People who don’t study world history and politics are often unaware of the atrocities that have been committed by various nations, but Xenogears clearly illustrates that a seemingly beautiful life can often hide an ugly inner core.
I also particularly liked that Xenogears challenges the idea of God. I have my own religious/spiritual beliefs, which I will not reveal here, but I liked the fact that Xenogears challenged the idea of God while still leaving the possibility for its existence. Square originally feared that Xenogears wouldn’t be palatable for Christian America, but I honestly don’t think that’s the case.
It may cause people to examine and question their beliefs, but it never explicitly states that God doesn’t, or cannot, exist. Some of Xenogears’ ideas regarding reincarnation may confuse people unfamiliar with Eastern religions, but I found them fascinating.
Besides having an amazing story, Xenogears also featured innovative gameplay. While it’s not one of my favorite battle systems, I appreciated its originality. I guess you can’t expect anything less from the team that was responsible for Chrono Trigger. What made the battle system unique was that it combined action with a turn-based system.
What do I mean by this? Well, you input a series of button combinations for each attack. Much like the upcoming Final Fantasy 13, you have a certain amount of points to use for attacks, and you can input weak, strong, and medium attacks in various combinations to perform special moves. Each character also has an assortment of magic, which you cast by selecting from various spells on a menu. These spells use MP, so they don’t involve various button presses. This fighting game-like system also carried over to Xenogears’ giant robot battles.
Xenogears features giant robots called Gears (which are much like Japanese Gundams), and they’re quite capable fighting machines. You use Gears in a similar manner to your regular attacks, but they use fuel, so you have to regularly replenish their oil and upgrade them with the latest frames and weapons.
This system isn’t much different from the regular battles, but special moves are accessed in a different way. As a Gear, you have to use weaker attacks to save ability points to execute punishing special moves. These can be quite devastating and are essential for beating bosses.
Unfortunately, this combat system grows tiresome over the 60-hour adventure due to the countless random battles you face. Certain poorly balanced bosses further hamper battles, but this didn’t stop me from enjoying Xenogears’ unique combat.
Besides having an innovative combat system, Xenogears also featured a fully rotatable camera and jumping. While rotatable cameras are now commonplace, it’s still rare that you can jump in an RPG. I guess the Mario in me gets giddy when I’m able to jump, so for this, Xenogears deserves an additional pat on the back.
On a more serious note, I especially enjoyed Xenogears’ soundtrack. The music is simply phenomenal. I wouldn’t quite rank it up there with Chrono Cross’ soundtrack, but Yasunori Mitsuda did it again. Most of Xenogears’ songs tug at your emotions, and some are even reminiscent of tunes from Chrono Trigger.
It’s hard not to feel a rush when you’re battling foes who committed terrible atrocities when the fights are accompanied by songs that ring of freedom. Also, it’s hard not to feel chills when a song makes you feel as if you’re witnessing a speech by a charismatic general, leading his troops to victory over former aggressors.
Some songs will even make you feel as if you’re in an ethereal realm. This soundtrack had such an impact on me that I later made it my first game-soundtrack purchase.
I’ve already raved about many of my most influential games of the 32-bit era, but I’d like to briefly mention two more: The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time and Final Fantasy VIII. I ended up playing Ocarina of Time concurrently with Xenogears, and it left me quite impressed.
I didn’t feel the excitement that I experienced when playing Mario 64, but I certainly enjoyed exploring OOT’s massive worlds. The 3D dungeons were quite amazing, and I especially enjoyed the portion of the game where Link was an adult. Riding on a horse, escaping a prison, and the climactic finale with Gannon were moments I’ll likely never forget. Still, OOT wasn’t without its disappointments.
I’d hoped to explore vast forests and battle soldiers on horseback equipped with shiny metallic armor, but unfortunately, that dream wouldn’t come true until many years later. I also felt that Ocarina of Time didn’t do much new.
It was a fun game, but it wasn’t as memorable as A Link to the Past, and I often put it to the side in favor of Xenogears. Still, the amazing final battle and massive puzzle-filled dungeons made everything worth it. This would be the last N64 game that truly grabbed my attention.
After Ocarina of Time and a variety of Square RPGs, the latest Final Fantasy finally arrived. During eighth grade, I finally got rid of the regularly late and biased magazine known as Nintendo Power and replaced it with an EGM subscription. In my first issue, I witnessed FF8’s breathtaking visuals.
I thought that Squall’s scar looked incredibly realistic, and I appreciated the continuity between field and battle graphics and FMV. Some players found FF7’s variety of looks jarring, so it was nice to see FF8 take a more realistic approach with characters that looked the same in every situation.
Even though the FMV visuals were superior to the in-game graphics, there wasn’t a noticeable difference between the characters’ proportions. This was made even better by the fact that three party members were now onscreen at once. No Final Fantasy had employed this technique at that point.
Besides featuring more realistic visuals and smooth gameplay-to-cut-scene transitions, Final Fantasy 8 also made a variety of gameplay alterations. Instead of randomly earning gil from monsters, your mercenary characters would actually receive a salary from their employers.
This approach was somewhat of a hassle, as you had to complete annoying tests to gain a raise, but it was an interesting change to a traditional RPG formula that had grown stale.
Another unique attribute of Final Fantasy 8 was its leveling system. Instead of having to gain different amounts of experience for every level, characters now needed to earn a static amount of 1,000 XP. Even more bizarre was that monsters leveled along with you, so they’d gain new techniques and items if you fought them at different points in the game.
You could also break the traditional Final Fantasy level cap — now you could reach level 100, and without too much difficulty. Also nice was the ability to avoid battles entirely, once you obtained a certain ability.
Final Fantasy 8 also changed things up with its reliance on summons. These summons, called Guardian Forces, were quite annoying to some players, because they had drawn-out animations that you couldn’t skip. I didn’t mind so much, as they were visually impressive, but I’m happy that these elongated animations were optional in future FF installments.
Guardian Forces not only looked pretty — they were also useful for building stats. Instead of equipping armor, you’d simply equip Guardian Forces in Final Fantasy 8. Much like jobs in Final Fantasy Tactics, these GFs could learn abilities that would teach you battle skills and improve your stats.
You could also improve stats by drawing magic spells from enemies. Unfortunately, the overpowered summons and weapons rendered spells practically useless. But spells were still important for building up character stats.
Final Fantasy 8 wasn’t a perfect game, but I appreciated the risks that Square took, and I also liked the mature storyline. Once again, there were some characters with shades of gray — like Squall and Seifer, and Squall felt like a character I could relate to.
Some people felt that Squall was a cold loner, but I saw him as an individual who didn’t believe in small talk and trivialities. He did care about others (eventually) but was more of an introspective individual.
Many of the above games had quite an impact on me and influenced the direction my life would take. Games like Final Fantasy Tactics and Xenogears moved me on the path toward becoming an intellectual, even when I was surrounded by people who didn’t take learning seriously.
My middle school years were some of the worst in my life socially, but they were positive in others ways — as many groundbreaking games were released. I didn’t have as much time to play video games as I would have liked, because I was placed in a variety of activities, and my family didn’t see the value in games. But I actually grew as a person from many of the titles I played.
If it weren’t for games like Xenogears and Final Fantasy Tactics, I may have never gravitated towards subjects like history and religious studies. I also probably wouldn’t be as culturally aware as I am today. And who knows, I may have taken a dark path like many of my friends. Video games potentially saved my life.
But alas, enough assumptions have been made. Next time, I’ll open with my final 32-bit experiences, and then I’ll lead into my temporary dissatisfaction with video games and my entry into the online arena.