AW's Gaming Reviews

Game: Legend of Legaia (PS1)

"The real enemy is in the mist, but it’s not the Seru"

Genesis Trees. Seru. Ra-Seru. Malevolent Mist. Crystal Grass. Weed Hammers. There are so many things that remind me of 1999's Legend of Legaia it isn't funny. Like most RPG's, Legaia is big on imagination but short on individuality. Well, that last part isn't completely true, the game offering its own unique twist on combat. Still, was this element of the game enough to make it successful in its day, and is it enough to power it twelve years later?

In the world of Legaia, combat is a little more involved than it is in most role-playing games. Characters attack enemies with left and right punches (weapons and Ra-Seru) and high and low kicks. These strikes, when performed in a specific order, unlock “arts,” unique attacks that surpass standard blows in strength and ability. Depending on how they're performed, arts can be overlapped to form combos. In short order these basics are joined by advanced techniques like Hyper Arts (elementally-infused beat-downs), Super Arts (combos ending with otherwise inaccessible moves) and Miracle Arts (ultimate attacks that require a maxed-out command bar and ninety-nine arts points).

So how is all of this action reigned in? First of all, arts consume arts points. Also limiting what can be attempted per turn is the length of a character's command bar. By employing the “Spirit” command, the player can temporarily extend this bar, restoring their AP and raising their defense. Not only is protecting your character in this manner important, the command effectively shaving two-thirds worth of damage off any attack, it's also how your characters fuel their offensive.

Unfortunately, as clever as Tactical Arts System is, things start to slowly unravel when one looks beyond the hand-to-hand combat. As important as it is for your characters to absorb Seru throughout the course of the adventure, the player will quickly discover there is little reason to cast offensive Seru unless they're in a boss battle and can use the Kemaro spell. Faced with such a situation (despite the fact some summons can hit multiple targets) the main reason behind most casting will be healing. Unattractive as offensive magic ends up being, its small potatoes compared to the real problem holding Legaia's combat hostage: money.

So how can money cause a game's battle system to collapse? It's quite easy. We've already touched on the slow pace of combat – multiple menus, watching arts and summons unfold, the need to switch between offense and defense – that's easy to overlook when traveling from A to B. Unfortunately, this forgiveness runs thin when one's faced with the wide gap between the gold obtained from fighting and price of new equipment. So if you love to fill your coffers each time you get to a new town, you're not going to be very happy. What is going to make you even more unhappy is the amount of time you'll have to devote to get the cash.

Now, I'm not against working for money and experience in an RPG, but you'd think by this point in the evolution of gaming this kind of stuff would be done away with. I can see and accept things like this in an older, SNES RPG like Breath of Fire II, but in this day and age (and even back in 1999) it's unnecessary. And this is how combat, Legend of Legaia's “ace-in-the-hole” becomes its biggest liability because of it's over exposure. At this point you may be wondering if it can get any worse. It does. Random battles become tortuous during the final leg of the journey where normal enemies gain the ability to smite your entire party; it's especially painful in the final dungeon where the Seru come in threes.

Beyond the plight befalling Legaia's combat, there's little debate that the remainder of the experience is inspired, adequate, and insipid. Michiru Oshima's music is a great example. The light and heavy earthen tones employed throughout are appropriate on the whole, but it's never anything more than a simple backdrop that can't live beyond its context. Pointed commentary aside, even I have to eat those words upon entering a Mist Generator; the drive and oppression that flows from “The Misty Nest” personifies the evil nature of these infernal machines to a tee. Truth be told, there is nothing special about this composition, but it capitalizes on the kind of synergy that's missing from the majority of the score.

Legaia's storyline shares a somewhat similar fate. Like most J-RPG's, the cliche's are out in force, so don't expect anything to jump out and truly surprise you. However, one of the best segments of the game is ironically wrapped around the played-out concept of time travel. It's interesting to meet the game's villains before their decent into madness even if they're given the bare minimum of development. As one dimensional as the villains are, it's not like Vahn, Noa and Gala exactly jump off the screen. There is no doubt they are likable, but they don't break any new ground as far as character archetypes go. You have the good old country boy with the mandatory blue hair in Vahn, the disciplined warrior-monk on a quest for revenge with Gala and the lonely, socially-awkward wilderness girl Noa. As if it needs to be said, the type casting continues in battle with Vahn being the all-around character, Noa relying on her agility to make up for her fragile frame and the big bruiser Gala starting off extremely limited but coming into his own late–to-mid game.

Last but not least are graphics. While most people will probably agree that Legaia looks a lot better in battle than out of it, both realms lead to the argument that Legend of Legaia is somewhat dull and uninspired. While this happens to be true given the game's setting and scenario, there are several things that fight against it. Despite the fact the normal, non-Seru enemies could have used a lot more imagination, the Seru themselves are an intriguing bunch that come off as a demented take on Nintendo's Pokemon. Watching your characters bruise enemies with arts along with the visual evolution of your character's Ra-Seru, weapons and armor are sights to behold.

CONCLUSION:

After playing through Legend of Legaia for the first time in over a decade, I've learned that one's memory can be awfully selective. I had placed Legaia on equal footing with the genre's heavyweights only to discover that its shortcomings place it significantly lower. That said, I'm glad I played it and rediscovered the truth. As annoying as some of the situations in game can be, I'm going to go easy on it. While some will see this as a disservice, I can't condemn the game when its ambitions are in the right place. Guilty or not, if you're a fan of RPG's and have a soft spot for the original PlayStation there is no excuse to skip over what Legend of Legaia has to offer - the good, the bad and the ugly.

Overall Score: 7/10

GoldfishX wrote:

I remember Legaia had a really nice sense of discovery to it. The world was blocked off by mist, so it felt like an accomplishment making it to each new area. Plus the game was quite difficult and not a cakewalk. Was well worth the playthrough.

As far as the first point goes I totally agree. When it comes to overall difficulty I will say there are a few boss fights that are definitely a pain in the rear, mostly those were bosses that use strong moves that are completely untellegraphed. Still, as annoying as I found the last stretch of the game there was a certain arrangement of accessories I used on Gala that pretty much gave me unlimited MP ~ well enough to cast Spoon over and over.

Game: Wild Arms Alter code:F (PS2)

A “Well Crafted” Lullaby

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 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 who 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 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.

Overall Score: 6/10

Game: Final Fantasy 20th Anniversary Edition (PSP)

“Final Fantasy, drown in mediocre extras"

Final Fantasy. It's a name that once held a significant amount of clout. In recent years, or more accurately, ever since Squaresoft and Enix merged after the disaster that was Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, "enhanced" ports of previously successful entries have come down the pike in the numbers one expects from in vitro fertilization. As disgusting as this cow-milking practice has become, and as disgusting as it is that I'm probably going to shell out for the sixth version of Final Fantasy IV in the Final Fantasy IV Complete Collection come April, I still like the original Final Fantasy despite the fact it lacks a robust storyline. Given that, I was more than willing to enlist for the first and most faithful recreation of the game on the PS1, but beyond that release the core game has been fitted with so many ill-fated additions that it's diluted what was a simple yet enjoyable experience. So, in the spirit of debate, let's look at the three main segments that make up Final Fantasy's 20th Anniversary Edition.

~ Final Fantasy: The Main Course ~

The core of the experience that emulates the original adventure on the NES, one will find that many liberties have been taken since Final Fantasy Origins. Most of them aren't too groundbreaking: the high resolution graphics are nice to look at even thought there wasn't really anything wrong with how the game was presented on the PS1 and GBA; the heightened accuracy of attacks at the beginning of the quest is quite helpful as are the additional commands available during combat (like Defend) that weren't originally there. Unfortunately, it's one of the most welcome changes, the ditching of casting system for mages that puts everything into jeopardy by absolutely destroying the game's balance. Now, most will jest at the idea of the original Final Fantasy being balanced, especially when the spell casting units where as handicapped as they were, but in its own, odd-ball way, it was. Here, there is no real worry about getting through a dungeon in one piece because your party has so many options, which destroys the last bit of challenge the title had.

~ Soul of Chaos: A Lesson in Monotony ~

A set of four optional dungeons that were first featured in the GBA Dawn of Souls package, Soul of Chaos represents some of the most insipid concepts that can be used to artificially inflate a game's lifespan. These multilevel dungeons throw their pre-programmed floors at you in random order, and the treasures on each floor are randomly selected from a pool specific to that floor. This means you won't find everything they have to offer in one play through. Boss floors, filled with classic bosses that are just a sad way of siphoning off past ideas, are set up so you can only take on one before you are forced to advance or leave. The mostly static (and weak) cast of enemies you encounter in random encounters will chip away at your enthusiasm faster than a rabbit nibbling away at a carrot as the super-powered bosses prove the game's battle system isn't really built for challenging battles.

~ Labyrinth of Time: It Gets Worse ~

As much as the Soul of Chaos dungeons remind me of terrible dungeons like Wild Arms 3's Abyss or Star Ocean 3's Sphere Company, The Labyrinth of Time shows up to prove things can get even messier. Once again, the levels are thrown at you in a random level, but this time the focus is mostly on non-combative challenges like memory games. This would be fine on its own, but we're not done. Each level requires you to sacrifice abilities for "time" to keep the "miasma" at bay. Miasma basically acts like a poison that saps away at your health and magic and increases enemy encounters until you leave the area. The whole experience is as fun as sounds. On top of that, you'll need to pass and fail challenges in a handful of certain patterns to encounter the various versions of the game's hardest boss. Oh, goody-goody gumdrops!

~ The Conclusion: Finally ~

Much like the evil miasma itself, Final Fantasy on the PSP starts out great until the extras corrode your soul from the inside out. Of course, just looking at the Square Enix logo (and what it's come to represent) is enough to do that, so you don't really need to subject yourself to the torture within this UMD to experience that. Still, I would honestly recommend the PS1 Origins package, Dawn of Souls and the much more deserving Final Fantasy Tactics: War of the Lions over this 20th Anniversary cash-in. It's pretty to look at, but that's about it.

Overall Score: 6/10

TerraEpon wrote:

One interesting thing about the PSP FF is the equipment glitch (http://www.gamefaqs.com/psp/937909-fina … faqs/50991). Granted it makes thing EASIER, but it's fun to cause 600+ damage on things before even the Earth Cave.

Doesn't FFIV [on the SNES] have a simular glitch? I think it's only good for making money however. Tactics has one as well I think, which is good for mass producing Orlandu's [sp] Excalibur which has auto-Haste.

Post Black Friday Sale

A heads up; I'll be posting a huge sale next week. I would post it sooner but with Black Friday this week my work schedule is absolutely insane and I can't really devote myself to answering e-mails and mailing things out on a large scale. As for what you can expect:

Video Games: NES, GB, Genesis, SNES, SAT, PS1, N64, DC, GBA, PS2, PSP
DVD's (Region 1 only)
Books
CD's
Strategy Guides

So if you post here some of it games review then i think here your post some good effects show so let do it with nice post thanks

I always consider Wild Arms, Suikoden 1 and Final Fantasy VII the original big three PS1 RPG's. I think there were two camps: RPG fans in general that were aware of all three games and enjoyed (or even disliked) them on their own merits. And then there was the new-school of people that FFVII did admittedly bring in, who knew nothing of the other two. Being in the first group, I wasn't aware how large the second group apparently ended up being.

But I remember, before buying a PS1, scanning the PS1 library. I knew I wanted FFVII because I had played the FF games on the SNES, but Wild Arms was on my short list of games I immediately wanted as well (Suikoden was under my radar and I ended up buying it when I misread that I would have 108 characters to choose from on the back of the game case).

Duke Nukem: Total Meltdown (PS1)

"Well, at least they got the subtitle right"

In this world, there are few things as comforting as a familiar old saying. From classics like “a penny saved is a penny earned” to “the original was better” there is nothing that makes one feel more at ease when life proves these ideas true time and time again. Except when it doesn’t. I can’t even begin to count the times where the line “it’s better to burn out than fade away” has become the utter bane of a band or video game series that’s outlived its usefulness. Still, when it comes to video games, there may be an even more abhorrent saying: “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” Seriously, what could be flattering about a competitor leeching off the success of another developer’s product? Such distain aside, one of the greatest examples of such thievery has to revolve around id Software’s Doom and the arrival of what were eventually dubbed as “Doom clones.” As quickly as it started, generic takes on id’s spectacular space shooter popped up from every corner of the world, everyone and their mother vying for a piece of the action. Many of these games didn’t deserve a sliver of the praise that was paid towards the original, but there was one game that made a name for itself: Duke Nukem 3D.

As a child of the genre, Duke Nukem 3D didn't rewrite the book on first person shooters. While the engine behind the game offered some basic enhancements over its forbearers, the real driving force behind Duke’s success was savvy marketing. It isn’t hard to believe that Duke Nukem owed more to its raunchy sense of humor than any other element. So, as with any successful product, it was only natural that the game would see life on the current consoles of the time, one of the most notable being the PlayStation version. Unfortunately, as famous as Duke’s antics were, Total Meltdown wouldn’t become known for the right reasons. So what is Total Meltdown known for? Total Meltdown is one of the worst – if not the worst - port of Duke Nukem 3D in existence. Still, dramatics aside, is the experience salvageable? Yes and no.

While most would think the low-res graphics and sagging frame rate would be the most likely place to start when tackling the problems present in Total Meltdown, what’s even more pressing are the controls. As expected, there’s an immense amount of pain to be experienced in trading down from the keyboard and mouse to a controller. In an attempt to accommodate players the best it can, Meltdown offers up three different configurations, although in hindsight it’s more like two. Layouts “Nukem1” and “Nukem2” are essentially the same since they turn a maneuver like circle strafing into an impossible art. The third option, “Doomed,” corrects this problem by getting the strafe commands off the square/x d-pad combination and back on the shoulder buttons where they belong. The raw part of the deal is this ends up complicating the aiming controls even further, making enemies like RPV’s and automated turrets difficult to deal with. In other words, there’s no quick-fix when it comes to the controls; in order to gain better access to one thing you’ll always have to give up quick access to something else.

Disappointing as the control issues are, there's also the conflict between Duke’s weaponry and the alien scum they’re used against. When it comes to weapons in general, the game seems to have the bases covered: you have a rapid-fire pistol, a shotgun, a machine gun, a grenade launcher and more. Clear cut as the weapon selection appears to be, trouble sets in ever so slightly. The first ill-omen is the low capacities on the shotgun and grenade launcher; fifty and two hundred rounds for these weapons never feels like enough, especially when one considers how often they're used. Complicating things even further are the enemies and inability of certain guns to suppress return fire. When dealing with an enemy like an Enforcer, the game usually wants the player to retaliate with a be-all end-all solution like the grenade launcher; the problem is that these encounters usually take place at close range, nullifying any rational use of the launcher and allowing the ensuing volley of gunfire to put a big dent in one's health.

The game somewhat bounces back with its level design. It never ceases to amaze me how excellent the maps are in these early 2.5D shooters. Total Meltdown's no exception, but one has to ask themselves if the sacrifices made to keep these layouts intact were worth it, especially when one considers the fact the PlayStation version of Doom made all kinds of edits to it's levels and still offered up an enjoyable experience. As nice as the new wrinkles the Build engine brings to the fold are, these improvements often kneel the before the problems they create. Jumping through tripwires in a first person viewpoint is an exercise in trial and error until the player “feels out” Duke’s dimensions and crush hazards are another area where survival seems completely random, making them the most cumbersome obstacles in the game. Its flawed elements like these and the shrinky-dink/mouse parts that’ll make one appreciate the ability to (ever so slowly) save their game on the fly.

Terrible as these experiences may be, perhaps the most disappointing aspect about Total Meltdown - and Duke Nukem 3D in general – is how the game’s defining sense of humor fails to save it. I can see how this was the controversial, edgy kind of game hormonal teens hid away from their parents, but in world where yesterday’s sex and violence is nothing to what's currently available, it’s comes off as a cheap prefix to a experience that has enough going for it. To put it another way, while one could see the hellish depictions in Doom being used for shock value, they were necessary in drawing the player into the game’s simple narrative. This fails to be the case with Duke’s babes and toilet humor. I’m sure I’d have a completely different viewpoint had I played the game in it’s prime, but I didn't so there's little chance of this element ever becoming anything more than window dressing.

In wrapping up what this take on Duke Nukem 3D has to offer, there’s one last connection to discuss. That connection? That Total Meltdown is the PlayStation equivalent of SNES Doom. Sure, the game may look a lot better, but with both games doing everything in their power to retain their original level structure its an apt comparison. Another, perhaps more striking similarity is that both ports offer up enhanced soundtracks that take advantage of their respective console’s sound capabilities. As much as I liked Robert Prince’s tunes in the PC version of Doom, I liked them even more after the Super Nintendo’s sound processor was put behind them. The same holds true here, Prince and Lee Jackson’s tunes receiving an impressive upgrade by Mark Knight. Music easily comes off as Total Meltdown’s best element yet it does little to aid the experience when placed side by side with the game's shortcomings.

CONCLUSION:

As a game, it’s not hard to see why Total Meltdown has acquired its title as the lousiest port of Duke Nukem 3D. Aardvark may deserve some credit for shoehorning the game onto the console as well as they did, but after experiencing what lies within most won’t feel so generous, especially if they’ve partook of what the PlayStation version of Doom has to offer. That said, the one thing that should be kept in mind is even though Total Meltdown resources are strained, it’s still a reflection of the original - warts and all.

Overall Score: 6/10

Game: Syphon Filter 2 (PS1)

"Not a bad sequel, it just doesn't give its predecessor or successor a run for their money"

Sequels are a risky proposition. While most will agree there's a lot less at stake when extending a known property than creating a new one, a bad sequel can absolutely shatter a customer's faith in a product line. When one speaks of bad sequels and the consequences surrounding them, one can't help but think of Xenosaga II where the developers wound up so far off base it wasn't even funny. Games with the prefix Xeno in their titles may have had their issues before Xenosaga II, but the damage done by that title was, by all accounts, insane. Such lessons observed, fans of Syphon Filter can rest assured that the continued adventures of Gabe Logan and crew steers clear of trouble, but the series has become the victim of its own success – at least somewhat.

So what's wrong with Syphon Filter 2? For the most part nothing. What we basically get is the first game with new levels, a few new toys, two new combat engine elements (a new aiming mode for grenades and the ability for enemies to get head shots on the player), a chance to play as Lian Xing and some minor tweaks to the character models. Beyond that, the game is pretty much more of the same. So how could things go wrong? While some will question how a full motion video can sum up the problem with a game in general, the opening video where we see Lian being kidnapped from the Pharcom Warehouses by the Agency is the tip of the iceberg. Now, I don't think there is anyone that is going to argue that the first game was free of cheesy moments, but there's a fine line between “cheesy” and "do your worst impression of a Hollywood blockbuster" cheesy. The first kind of cheese can be bad but, as anyone who gamed through the early days of full voice acting will tell you, can be downright delicious for all the wrong reasons. Syphon Filter had this kind of cheese. A few minutes into the aforementioned video, we find that Syphon Filter 2 goes with the latter. Watching Gabe leap from box to box, shooting soldiers from left to right in slow-mo, I can't shake this feeling that the game wants to be taken seriously despite looking utterly ridiculous. Not the best combo per say.

Okay, so that's extreme case scenario, but there are several moments throughout Syphon Filter 2 where the narrative simply tries to be more than what it is. Most of these revolve around plot points that seemed firm enough ten years ago but now feel impossible not to pick apart. The story wants to have it all and in all due respect does, but the experience becomes top heavy and unbalanced. The capper to such a conundrum has to be the final twist the player is presented with. I'll admit I loved how this revelation blindsided me back in the day even though I should have seen it coming a mile away, but in being a little bit wiser than I was back then it simply doesn't hold water. What makes this so ironic is that the third game in the series is free of this detachment despite its missions taking place in all sorts of different years and locales, not to mention having its own, unrealistic twist.

Compounding the above is a battle between time and cleverness. While Syphon Filter 2 seemed downright clever at times despite being cliché, time has shown it's vulnerable to deprecation. One of the more obvious examples of this is when the player revisits the Pharcom Expo Center. This level was originally interesting because it didn't feel like a sorry excuse to re-use a pre-existing map. In many ways, this feeling lives on yet doesn't feel as bulletproof as it once did. If anything has failed to bow to the contortions of time, it would have to be the final few levels that take place in the New York City Slums. Other levels have their charms, but there is something dead-on about playing cat and mouse with Agency goons in dilapidated buildings that just nails what Syphon Filter is all about. This doesn't really apply to the plot points that unfold in these locations (Lyle Stevens has nothing on Markinson despite getting his hands dirtier) and it shows that the gameplay outguns the narrative by a mile, which is Syphon Filter 2's saving grace.

CONCLUSION:

Whether it's the result of over posturing or the pressure that comes with expectation, most of Syphon Filter 2's problems can be traced back to storytelling. Unfortunately, with Syphon Filter being such a story driven series, the effects it has on the remaining elements is as unsurprising as it is unavoidable. Disappointing as it ends up being, the gameplay is more than willing to make up for it and easily allows the series to get away with a mere flesh wound. If you're a fan or a newbie, Syphon Filter 2 is worth your time, just be ware just like most Mega Man games it's a standard sequel that may or may not be a low point in the series for you.

Overall Score: 7/10

Razakin wrote:

Also Ashley, you did post your Wild Arms review twice. But then, game was good as it, maybe one review ain't enough.

My bad, I'll replace one of those posts with something else.

Razakin wrote:

Too bad that the game has aged somewhat badly, especially control wise.

I'm not so sure I totally agree with that. I replayed the games before I wrote these (I won't write a review until I've played/replayed a game) and I really had no issue with the controls. I may be turning a blind eye to the issues - I don't know - but I really can't imagine a PS1 collection without this trilogy despite even though they don't have the gloss of a Metal Gear Solid.

Razakin wrote:

Time to check if I have time next weekend to tackle with first game, even if I have to suffer through following that guy in the catacombs. Don't know why but I had so much trouble with that part of the game.

You're not alone, that's a pretty hit-and-miss part. I think the first game ratchets up the difficulty near the end more than the sequels do but that's just my opinion.

Last edited by Ashley Winchester (Nov 29, 2011)