Lonely Gaming through Far Cry 3

No, still no time at all to beat Final Fantasy X. Yes, still aware it was a brilliant move to commit to that when I'm this busy.

Anyway, so, lonely gaming.

I want you to understand that I'm very much a solitary person. I can work with others, and I can do things with others. I enjoy the company of others, and am capable of feeling lonely. But I don't feel the constant need to be around others, and the times I want to be alone far outnumber the times I want to be around people. As such, I am a very single-player focused person. Out of my current top ten favourite games of all time, nine are single-player experiences. Out of those nine, five deal with loneliness in a major way, either thematically through the story, or through long spans of time spent alone during gameplay.

The concept of loneliness in gaming is one that I believe could be explored to a far deeper level than film can, and approaching it through a different point of view than literature does. In film, one is limited by length. You can't have hours upon hours of loneliness, and just claiming someone is lonely doesn't work unless your theme is focused on this sole idea, which means dialogue has to be nearly non-existent. In a novel, you're very much attached to the character's point of view and actions. The character is the one undergoing loneliness, and how this changes him is inextricably bound to the character himself. What's different in a game is that you neither have to be solely based on exploring loneliness, nor are you bound to the character. Games make you deal with loneliness yourself. Admittedly, it's a much smaller scale than that in film or novel, but you're the one being experimented with here.

Far Cry 3, to me, is a great example. Now, everyone who's played it knows it takes a Heart of Darkness approach on a surface level, though it really has less in common with that novel than it'd like. You're stranded on an island full almost exclusively of pirates and animals trying to kill you, have fun finding your friends. Or die. Probably die.

It is a very lonely game, particularly if you play it without using fast travel, which is what I did (My opinions on fast travel will likely be the subject of another set of ramblings soon enough). Most of your time is spent traveling around the island on a variety of vehicles. Since most of your travel is done through areas liberated from the pirates, you'll very rarely encounter enemies along the way.

This is a tremendously lonely experience. Rook Island is a difficult area to traverse, with mountains, rivers, and many other obstacles blocking your way, not to speak of the easily angered animals. You feel like you're alone, struggling against something bigger than you.

It's surprising the amount of attachment Far Cry 3 inspires for you in small things because of this. I steadfastly refused to change my pistol through the entire game, despite much better ones being available later on. I also would go exceedingly far out of my way to pick up one particular car at one particular base.

The reason for this was, I formed attachments. The pistol, a slight upgrade on the default, granted me a very useful base takeover early on, and I'd had some success getting over painful terrain on the car. Both the items had success in them, and I wanted them to keep around. I got incredibly attached to them.

Another piece of emergent behaviour were the podcasts. In Far Cry 3, most cars have a radio that you can change through various channels of generic music. I ended up playing podcasts when in cars, pretending these were Rook Island's radio talk shows. This made a huge difference to my play experience. I ended up becoming more and more unwilling to leave cars alone, even going so far as prolonging journeys by not getting out and finding a car-friendly way around the newest obstacle. This was, admittedly, more based on my enjoyment of the podcasts than any sort of loneliness in-game, but was a accurate mechanical roleplay of how the character would act in that situation.

I expect I'll have more games to explore loneliness in soon. Right now, I have a delicious dinner to attend to. Next time, I'll write about something else, probably gaming related, and probably not Final Fantasy X yet.

Initial Ramblasy

A couple hours ago, I realized something. I've made the brilliant move of starting a blog where I review games in a period where I'm both insanely busy and playing through a game that it'll take me an eternity to complete. So, I'll start this off with one of my ramblings. Expect these to far outnumber reviews, by the way. Anyway, let's talk about Final Fantasy.

Final Fantasy is one of the oldest series out there. It all but kickstarted the popularity of the JRPG in the west, saved Square from bankruptcy, and just refuses to stop existing.

It all starts off in the humble NES era. Square, a small Japanese company, has released a few games, none of which have sold particularly well. Seeing their bankruptcy approaching, and the popularity of the RPG Dragon Quest, they allow Hironobu Sakaguchi, a long-time employee to go on with his dream project, a JRPG of his own. Being sure this is his last project, Sakaguchi names the game Final Fantasy. It of course is a blockbuster hit, Square is saved, and Sakaguchi keeps working for them and producing Final Fantasy games.

What I find particularly interesting about the series is its evolution through the different console generations. The NES Final Fantasies are traditional JRPGs, similar to the aforementioned Dragon Quest. The story is barely existent, and you stumble from objective to objective, grinding experience and getting very lost along the way. This is very much a mechanically focused game. Obsessing over your party composition, tactics, and equipment is the main source of enjoyment. There's a fair amount of exploration here, to the point where oftentimes you find yourself not being able to find your next objective.

Moving onto the SNES era, the series changes in a major way. Starting from Final Fantasy IV, the story becomes a major focus. Mechanically, they stay much the same, but they're no longer about the mechanics. The story is about a small cast of characters, but they're not the focus, or the main source of enjoyment. What's really important here is the overarching plot, the journey to save the land from whatever scourge may be unleashed on it. The characters are a diverse bunch of stereotypes, who leave any sort of external motivation at the door when entering the party: as soon as a character joins you in your quest, the only worry they have any more is that of the main character.

This may seem like a criticism of the SNES era Final Fantasies, but believe me when I say this is what I consider the golden era of the series: They have a genuine sense of energy to them, and the less-developed characters are more fun to have around than the grim protagonists the next era brings. There's an obviously huge amount of passion put into each and every one of the SNES Final Fantasies, and they manage to not feel as dry as the NES era of the series. Even better, you at least know what to look for in your travels, as the storyline gives you helpful tips as to where to go, without ever feeling hand-holdy.

Then we come to the PlayStation era. These are different Final Fantasies, having made the move to 3D. The story focus becomes even more pronounced. Gone are the days when characters were barely fleshed-out stereotypes, here are the days where characters are considerably fleshed-out stereotypes. Stories focus more on the relationships between characters, and the main conflict becomes almost a secondary concern. The famed mopy protagonist is introduced, Cloud of Final Fantasy VII, the first to be released on the system, is their vanguard, and Squall of Final Fantasy VIII fame is another notable figure. Gameplay drops to a more linear style, to allow for a more cinematic experience, though exploration is still here and kicking. The setting moves from the medieval worlds we'd previously seen into sci-fi inspired worlds.

Something that has to be addressed is that here's where Final Fantasy VII drops. Final Fantasy I on the NES was a success for the time, but the audience was considerably smaller. The SNES era's Final Fantasies were by no means a failure, but were never the same caliber of smash hit that the first one was. Final Fantasy VII was a huge success, and re-introduced JRPGs to western audiences. If asked, an amazing amount of today's gamers will say Final Fantasy VII was either their first game or their first RPG. I'll be honest: I don't think it deserves half of the fame it has, despite being a damn good game. Nevertheless, Final Fantasy VII's popularity strongly affected Square's handling of the series.

With Final Fantasy IX, an important milestone is reached. Not only is this the last game before the series goes into the double digits, but it's also the last Final Fantasy Hironobu Sakaguchi works on. It's a bit different from the other two PlayStation Final Fantasies, in tone, story, and setting. One can clearly see this being Sakaguchi's last hurrah, a way to mark his departure from the company in the same way that marked the beginning of his importance within it.

So, there we go, a small walk through the history and changing nature of early Final Fantasy. Admittedly, the history of the series is far from an obscure story, and most people will have played at least a single game in it, but I think that giving a re-cap is a good way to set up my first review. That's right, folks, I'm reviewing Final Fantasy X, the first game in the series to be made without Sakaguchi, the first to contain voice acting, and the first to be released on the PlayStation 2. Tune in for the review whenever the hell I finish it. Or don't, but you'll be missing out on hearing the thoughts of a random teenager on the internet, and how would you live with yourself after that?