Monday, 10 August 2015

Final Fantasy XIII - How to Tell Stories (and What Not to do)

I often find myself thinking about how stories work in games over other media, particularly in JRPGs, which naturally have a bigger emphasis on story and character development over other game genres.

I'm haunted by Final Fantasy XIII in this regard, not because it does it well, but quite the opposite - the series does it horrendously.

A little history - when Final Fantasy XIII was announced, the focus was mostly on the new physics/graphics engine they had used for it - the Crystal Tools engine. Hence they announced off the bat that there would be 3 games in the series, to maximise the use of this engine. I'm not opposed to the idea of a trilogy - it works so well in novels and films. However, this means that before they even released the first game, and gauged critical/community reactions, they were committed to developing and releasing 3 games. They were also in a tricky position - generally, fans of Final Fantasy and JRPGs want to like a new release, and want it to be successful in their territory - it increases the chance of more games from the series and in general being released. However, after the general disappointment of Final Fantasy XII (a fun game to play: find people who have played it and ask them how far they actually got in it. I've yet to find someone who has actually completed it), there was always the possibility of another flop.

That being said, the first game was just about playable. The storyline is, when boiled down, relatively simple - the characters are drawn together by a powerful being to destroy their home, but they fight to rebel against these orders while discovering things about themselves and their companions. The problem is that in order to draw this out into a full-length game, the story is told in a convoluted and messy way, with a lot of jargon that makes it more difficult to follow, and the visuals, while very pretty, fail to help the story in some very significant ways. I spent a good 40 hours not realising that Cocoon - the home for many of the characters and a central element to the plot - was floating above Pulse, and the characters lived on the inner layer of the construct. That could have easily been shown with an establishing shot in the first five minutes. And that's only a minor issue. The character's internal dramas play out like episodic soap operas and are all over the place. I sense some of that issue was the desire to prove the graphics engine, so they wanted a variety of different locations. The easiest way to do that would be to split up the characters and this their stories. Combining this with dull gameplay, confusing subplots and needless jargon...the game failed to impress. On one level, there was entirely too much going on plot wise, which meant 'big' moments tended to be forgotten about as other moments take precedence; and the gameplay bored even gamers determined to see the mess through to its end.

The sequel improved on a lot of this. It focused on two characters, with the cast of the first making supporting appearances, but it was never about them. It had a refreshing plot on time travel that actually got me curious. As one character is from the very end of human existence, and they are changing time to prevent that from happening, what will happen to him? Yes, it still had elements of a plot that was a little chaotic, and could have been stripped down a little further and would have become something really impressive, but on the whole, told its story far better than its predecessor. However, the plot was difficult to follow if you hadn't played and completed the first game. It cut out a whole section of potential audience simply for that. There were text recaps that no one would really read hidden in the game's menu, but that is such a lazy way to introduce people to the story and the world. I am still very critical of the ending - it was designed to have cliffhanger written on it in glowing neon letters, and sidestepped all the interesting questions I had about time travel and how they were going to resolve the plot. They also give an illusion of choice to the ending - yet no matter what you do, the outcome is the same. This is the worst kind of betrayal to a gamer, to give the illusion of choice but no actual power to influence the plot in any meaningful way. The DLC released for the game also expanded on some of the original character's backstories and filled in the gaps of 'what were they doing while everything kept going on without them?' However, the fact that they were relegated to DLC means a significant chunk of the fanbase - already fractured by the first game to the point that they might not play the sequel, let alone buy extra content for the sequel - would be left out of these stories.

The third game, in my opinion, is the best. They strip the world down to focus on a few vital areas, but within those areas, you can explore and do the plot and sidequests in whatever order you choose. It encourages you to be as non-linear as you like...and you only have one playable character. The world itself focuses on one theme - the world is dying, and people are falling into entropy. And it portrays this so incredibly well, from the city where wealthy people endlessly party and enjoy themselves before the end, to the earthy people who hunt and live off the land as a last chance to get back in touch with nature, and the somber people clinging to religion as their last hope...and none of this needs directly explaining to you. You aren't working to save the world (which, incidentally, is only dying because of your actions in the two previous games); you're working to save the people to bring them into the new world. And honestly, that concept is strong enough to stand alone as a game. I honestly think that if they'd removed the complex backstory or allowed you to discover it in game, they could have released Lightning Returns as a stand alone game, and it would have done far better than simply as a conclusion to a trilogy.

The whole series does this, though. There is a lack of confidence in the strength of the story, so they throw budget at graphics and complicate the entire thing, essentially cheapening the emotional experience.

Because, as most writers know, the most effective part of the story is what is shown to you, not told. We don't need to be told the father is sad, we can figure that out from the fact that his son is out of his reach emotionally and physically and his face tells us everything else. Make us empathise with characters, and the rest will follow.

Agree? Disagree? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

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