Not to be confused with the New
Age of Heroes, of course.
Okay, all joking aside, I’ll say it plainly
here. This post is going to feature Persona 5, and I get the feeling that
that’s a touchy subject. Not because of
the game’s quality or content, but because it’s a treasure trove of spoilers
right now (and will be for a while; I’ve taken heat for offhandedly “spoiling” Persona 4 via screenshot four years after its release). I’m not going to spoil much of anything here,
because 1) that’s a dirtbag move, 2) it’s a game that deserves to be played
raw, and 3) I’m actually not that far into the game compared to others, so I’m
a target for spoilers as well. So, this
is only going to go up to the halfway point of the second dungeon. If you don’t want to know anything that
happens before that point, then leave now.
Also?
Notice that the header up there has more than just the Phantom
Thieves. Meaning that, yes, this is also
a post on Tales of Berseria --
however tangentially for now -- which means that’ll involve spoilers as well in
the near future. Why? Because it’s a good-ass game, and the
likelihood (if not reality) that there are people out there that haven’t played
it -- or worse yet, are going “what’s a Berseria?” -- fills me with enough rage
and sorrow to replace every drop of blood in my body with malice that erodes me
from the inside out.
Plus it’s thematically relevant for the topic, so
there’s that.
You know me by now, I hope. I’m the guy who loves heroes -- everyday or
super, real or fictional. Nothing would
make me happier than being able to push out my own stable of created characters
into the world, so that people from all over can delight in their heroic
exploits, sprawling adventures, and high-caliber spirits. And by the same token? For ages now it’s irked me whenever stories
-- video games in particular -- have kept trying to push their leading
characters as heroes despite them
being heroes in name only, if not the outright villains (through malice or
stupidity, you decide).
But you know what?
I’m not opposed to villains as a concept or character type. After all, you can make a hero shine even
brighter when you pit him or her against a villain whose umbral advance could
blot out the sun. To take it a step
further, I’m not opposed to anti-heroes or less-than-squeaky-clean heroes,
either. There is merit there. There are routes worth exploring through the
art of fiction, no matter the medium. I
just ask something that we should all expect, and naturally deserve: when these
villains (or anti-heroes) are done, they need to be done well. That’s the golden
rule, but it’s one that I suspect gets broken all the time just ‘cause.
I think what clinches it for me -- “it” being a
personal need for that niche to be filled -- is Kamen Rider. The back half
of 2015 saw promos and introductions for the then-upcoming Kamen Rider Ghost; based on some of the preview videos and
cameos, it looked like Toei was setting up the upcoming hero to be a headstrong,
prank-loving, selfish asshole. And I was
onboard. In fact, I came to realize how
much I needed an asshole hero in my life.
Granted there are probably other KR installments that could scratch
that itch, but this would be the new one.
This would be the proving ground.
It…uh…wasn’t. From what I can gather, Ghost has taken flak for being one of the weakest installments
around. I don’t think it’s as bad as
people say, since there are some standout episodes and moments -- but overall,
it’s just too plain and unambitious to rise very far above average, if at
all. Some of that, unfortunately, has to
do with its lead; I was hyped for a punk hero who would add some spice to the
mix, but he ended up being an acceptable, yet overall generic, protagonist/Hero
McHeroson. I don’t know how you
accomplish that when your main character is dead and only has 99 days to regain
his life, but here we are.
In any case, 2017 has seen an onslaught -- no, a murder bonanza -- of top-shelf
games. Resident Evil 7, Nioh, Breath of the Wild, NieR: Automata, Yakuza 0,
Gravity Rush 2, and more. That’s a
few hundred hours of gaming time right there, so I wouldn’t be surprised if
people have actually died trying to clear out their backlogs from this third of
the year alone. That’s not helped by the
presence of two heavy-hitting JRPGs. Tales of Berseria is the latest
installment in the ever-trucking Tales series,
a prequel to Tales of Zestiria and a
game that took yours truly a paltry 77
hours to clear. I finished it literally
days before Persona 5 dropped, and
now I’m moving from one huge JRPG to another -- and a longer one, at that
-- with less space between them than the length of a flea’s hair.
It really is interesting to go from one to the
other. Different companies, different
dev teams, different franchises, different output; yet, even with all of their
differences, they have some important similarities in common. You may play as a scruffy-haired Japanese
high schooler in Persona 5 (as is the
standard), but the context of your adventure and the slippery slope you’re on
make you and your crew a far cry from the peppy heroes of the previous
game. Meanwhile, Tales of Berseria has you playing as Velvet Crowe, who spends
virtually the entire game on a destructive warpath of revenge. And I mean
destructive.
I have serious concerns about the virtuousness of
the Phantom Thieves in the former game, and I have no problems seeing the party
in the latter game as the out-and-out villains.
Probably because the game itself admits, however casually, that they are the bad guys.
And honestly?
I think that’s awesome.
In P5
(people who want to dodge spoilers, start running NOOOOOOOOOOOW), your whole
shtick as a band of costumed crusaders is to enter the physical manifestation
of people’s hearts -- or to be more precise, the embodiments of adults’
distorted, out-of-control desires. As
Phantom Thieves, you’re tasked with infiltrating the “Palaces” that represent
their desires (and inlaid cognition) and stealing the treasure inside, which is
a manifestation of their heart. If the
Thieves succeed, then they make the Palace crumble, curb those distorted
desires, and force a change of heart in the target -- i.e. drives them to
confess their crimes.
It sounds like a noble goal, for sure. Damned if some of these guys don’t need a
little persuasion. The first target is Suguru
Kamoshida, a P.E. teacher and volleyball coach who uses his authority (built on
his Olympian status and build) to abuse his male students (whether they support
him or not) while sexually harassing and/or abusing his female students -- to
the point where he pushes one to suicide.
That’s a quick summation of some seven or ten hours of gameplay, but
believe me: it’s treated as an “oh shit!” moment in-universe, and I had the
same reaction out of it. The gang has a
dilemma over whether or not to go after him, because they risk turning him into
a vegetable if they screw up.
Once they see that actual lives are on the line,
though? Suddenly, they’re not so willing
to play nice.
I’m not very far into P5, so I can’t say anything with 100% certainty. Still, I have my reservations, and I can see
how things can take a downward turn. The
game goes to great lengths to paint Kamoshida as an absolute piece of shit, and
it’s pretty successful at it; not only is he abusive and creepy, but also
self-righteous enough to believe his own hype -- largely because the other
adults are willing to turn a blind eye.
The problem is that that’s the opening arc of the game. Where do you go from there, having effectively
started with pure evil? The target that follows is Madarame, an
artist who brings pupils under his wing -- and proceeds to claim their art as
his own so he can profit via plagiarism.
Abuse is involved again, and suicide is involved again (on top of having
him keep his pupils in a rundown shack).
So again, I have to ask: where do you go from
there? Madarame’s already earned himself
a lifetime membership for the Piece of Shit Club -- but as bad as he is, it
seems as if there are diminishing returns on the characterization. Are all of the targets in the game going to
be conniving crooks that can and will get away with their crimes if not for
metaphysical intervention? I suspect
not, because this is only Target #2 and I’ve got literally dozens of hours
left. But it does seem like a possibility.
The boss form of Kamoshida has Asmodeus in his name, AKA the
demon king of lust. If we’re going down
that route (and it looks like we will), Madarame will represent Mammon. And so on, and so forth. Can P5 keep
up the steam with one wretched adult after another? Can it keep escalating? Should
it keep escalating?
I’m eager to see the game’s answer to my
questions. To be clear, though, it’s
already provided a buffet’s worth of food for thought. Given that the recent Persona games have been bloodstained battlegrounds for the waifu
wars for years, I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that the main attraction is
the party you’ll get with each new installment (and to a lesser extent, the
Social Links/Confidants you gain along the way). That’s not a bad approach; characters create
opportunities, after all. They’re what
people will identify with and hold dear long after they finish a story -- the
takeaway that overshadows themes, technique, and the like. So given that, maybe P5 isn’t necessarily about how terrible the adults are.
It might actually be the opposite. Maybe it’s about how terrible the children --
the good guys themselves -- can be.
From the moment the Phantom Thieves started
willingly venturing into the Metaverse, they’ve been skiing down that slippery
slope. True, they’re left with no other
option but to steal treasures and change people from the inside out, but it
doesn’t change the fact that they’re willingly doing some dangerous stuff while
playing the role of “hero”. Are they
forcing crooks to reform and confess to their crimes? Yes.
But read that sentence again; they’re forcing crooks to reform.
They don’t have a choice in the matter; the Phantom Thieves are
infiltrating their minds, tampering with their desires, and stripping away a
portion of their free will. Yes, it’s
for a noble cause, but the means are sketchy as hell. Or are we just going to overlook the fact
that, if not for a random outburst from Ann, the “reformed” Kamoshida would
have killed himself as penance?
This isn’t a clear-cut, good-versus-evil,
underdog-versus-empire story. It has the
feel of one superficially, but even at this early stage when the adults are
horrible monsters, it’s getting easier and easier to question the nature of our
“heroes”. Three of the four original
members of the Phantom Thieves -- Ryuji, Ann, and the nameable protagonist --
are outcasts with chips on their shoulders and fires in their bellies. They feel like they’ve been wronged by
society, especially by the adults around them (which to be fair is pretty
spot-on). Once upon a time, they were
powerless. Now they have the power to do
something about it -- and the prospect of it is genuinely scary.
At least, it should
be scary. But despite some initial concerns,
the Thieves crawl deeper and deeper into the hole. Ryuji sees it as an opportunity to take down all the “shitty adults”, which makes you
wonder if he’ll ever be able to draw a line they’re not supposed to cross. Ann may seem like a style-savvy teenage girl,
but again and again she shows that she might be the most vicious of the group
so far (given how close she came to killing Shadow Kamoshida, how she wanted
the genuine article to suffer for as long as possible, and how one of her
in-battle lines is a chillingly-delivered “You
will pay”). Also, let’s just take a
moment to remember that whenever this batch of Persona-users awaken, it’s done
like this.
Let’s see here.
Being overcome by rage…listening to creepy voices coaxing you to lash
out at anything in your way…enduring torture that makes veins pulse and tears
flow…taking on the golden eyes that, in the Persona canon, rarely mean anything good…tearing off a mask and taking a chunk of
your face with it…wearing an evil smile as you awaken to the powers of your
inlaid, sinister-looking phantom self…having your awakening and first battle
set to some menacing (yet
fuckin’ sick nonetheless) guitar-heavy tracks…
YEP. THESE
GUYS ARE DEFINITELY THE HEROES.
I feel like this whole game is just a precursor to
one of the biggest pop-offs in JRPG history -- where tension builds up under
the surface until the most minor, miniscule event triggers a complete
disaster. There’s already one built in
to the Phantom Thieves’ procedure; setting aside the implication that someone’s
already beaten them to the Metaverse punch, the theory is that they won’t risk
having a target lose all of their desires and become a mindless husk as long as
they leave the Shadow version intact.
What’ll happen when one of the Thieves is overcome with emotion, and
can’t help but slaughter the Shadow in a fit of indignation? Would they try to justify it? Could they?
One of the rules for hunting after targets is that
the group has to come to a unanimous decision.
What happens if they can’t, though?
The young artist Yusuke does his best to turn a blind eye to Madarame’s
crimes, but even before he joins the Thieves he brings up a good point: they’re
doing what they do out of a warped sense of self-righteousness. (Plus it’ll be interesting to see what
happens when they force a teen’s legal
guardian to confess, and potentially face jail time.) They’ve been lucky so far to have targets
that have been utter dumpster fires in human form, but what happens when a
target shows some shades of gray? What
happens when “serving justice” isn’t so black and white? What happens when there’s justification for
unlawful acts? Would the Thieves be
paralyzed over the fact that saving the day isn’t as easy as going “Yo, fuck
the man”?
And none of that changes the fact that they’re
stripping away choice and free will for the sake of a path -- a conclusion --
that they deem worthy. Admittedly this crosses over into something
that I consider a major taboo, but it’s worth pointing out: free will is an
important part of being a human. Ideas,
drives, and thoughts are what make us who we are, and what we can be. Even if you don’t agree with an opinion or an
expression of will, no one has a right to suppress or distort it just ‘cause. You can coax someone with your own opinions,
and you can try to show them a different path, but you can’t just go around
bending every will to suit you. And as
benign as it seems, that’s exactly what the Phantom Thieves are doing. They’re trading the freedom of one individual
or group for another.
One of the promotional taglines for the game was
“You are a slave. Want
emancipation?” The Phantom Thieves are
doing their best to claim that freedom -- but paradoxically, they’re doing it
by endangering the freedom of others.
Because justice.
And can you even call it justice? Or is it all just a part of some personal
vendettas? Ryuji hates Kamoshida because
the Olympian ruined his leg, made him unable to compete, and disbanded the
track team on a whim. Ann hates
Kamoshida too, because the “pervy teacher” was making advances on her and
treating her best (likely only) friend Shiho like garbage despite earnest
attempts to become a volleyball star.
Then you get to Madarame, who Yusuke eventually decides to rebel against
because of the plagiarism angle and the disrespect for the very concept of art. And even though Ryuji and Ann aren’t
personally connected, it’s not hard to imagine that they’ve got lingering scars
from Kamoshida, especially once both abuse and suicide get involved with
Madarame.
I have a hard time believing that these guys are
acting purely out of virtue. But to be
clear, I don’t think that’s a fault with P5
or its writing (yet). If anything,
it’s a point in the game’s favor; the whole concept comes off as a teenage
power/revenge fantasy, wherein disaffected youths who’ve been wronged by older
people in power suddenly have the ability to strike back without them being
privy to it. Even so, the pieces are all
set up; I have faith in the devs and their ability to turn that basic setup on
its head -- to probe and deconstruct through the lens of its myriad
characters. There’s no telling what
targets I’ll be going up against in the future, but the way things are looking?
Something tells me that the Phantom Thieves aren’t
the band of do-gooders they make themselves out to be. Sooner or later, their virtue is going to be
put to the test -- and I’m super-okay with that.
Because even if they are the bad guys in the end,
there’s no way they could ever, ever be
worse than Velvet and crew.
But that’s a post for another day. See you then.
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