...Wait, why's he showing off his midriff?
I have a very specific
rule when it comes to playing RPGs: never play them if there’s so much as a
raindrop outside. It’s a lesson that I
had to learn the hard way one summer when playing through Final Fantasy 10. I was
trekking through the Macalania Woods, merry as could be, choosing to blissfully
ignore the rain pounding atop the roof of my grandma’s house. “I have nothing to fear from mere rain,” I scoffed. “My team is steadily growing stronger -- just
as I surmised, making Yuna the party’s black mage was a brilliant move. No force on earth can stop me!”
And then, before I could get to a save point
-- mere steps away from one, most likely -- the power went out. My progress, my EXP, all of it erased. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t
taken some time out to grind for extra levels (because I’m not satisfied with
my RPGs unless my party members become verifiable deities)…and it wouldn’t have
been so bad if, once I’d re-leveled later and made it back to the same point, I
had to shut off the game so I could go to Red Lobster with my grandma. So basically, I had to play that section
three times… but it was worth it for those Red Lobster biscuits.
I would covet my neighbor's wife for you. Could use some midriffs, though.
Why do I bring this
up? It’s because it’s been raining quite
a bit on my end -- a blessed reprieve from the summer heat -- and because of
it, I’ve been momentarily stalled on finishing my playthrough of Tales of the Abyss. It’s my intention to talk about that game one
of these days; in the same sense that I tried KH1 to see if it’s aged well, I thought I’d give Abyss a whirl. I won’t go into any grave detail, so I’ll
keep this post a bit short. And I’ll
start by saying this:
Tales of the Abyss is too damn long.
Eddy of Light spam haunts my nightmares. As do midriffs.
But in the case of Star Ocean, those extra hours are long
after the main quest has been completed.
I can’t even begin to imagine what sort of game could have nearly a week’s
worth of main content. Even though the Persona games (3 and 4, as per my
knowledge) last for quite a long time, their pacing is even and steady. It’s a long trip, but you’re steadily moving
toward finding an answer to a single issue.
And because you can’t get through the main content of the game-- at
least not easily -- without tackling the easily-accessed, 100% optional,
regularly-rewarding sidequests, a “change of pace” is available whenever you’re
ready for it.
Tales of the Abyss isn’t quite so fortunate. There are sidequests, of course, but they’re
hardly integral to the plot or understanding of the characters/world -- and
considering that important, character-developing events can be completely and irrevocably
passed up, it makes the issue more glaring.
But even with that in mind, Abyss’
story and gameplay don’t lend themselves to being any longer than forty hours…and
I’ve passed the fifty-hour mark on my current run.
Fifty hours of Luke's midriff. What a delight!
I’m not saying that Abyss has a bad story. On the contrary; it’s quite good, and I’m
enjoying it as I go (though I’ve noticed it has more problems than I’d
anticipated…but I’ll get to that). The
problem is that it’s not particularly even -- there are too many scenes that
don’t go anywhere, too many scenes where the angst is ratcheted up, too many
scenes where we have to be reminded that Luke is bothered about being a
replica, too many scenes about replicas, too many scenes with exposition and
technobabble…there’s just too much everything. It not only weighs down the plot, but lessens
the impact of a scene each time it’s just a rehash of an earlier scene. It’s to the point where I kind of wish the game
had the courtesy to straight-up END after the second act instead of limping
along for a third.
The lynchpin of the
issue lies with its main character, Luke fon Fabre. Apparently, he’s a very divisive character in
the Tales series; some love him,
others hate him. I can see why people
might hate him, though; the game’s three acts are more or less a reflection
(and divided by) Luke’s three “stages”.
In the first stage, he’s an arrogant, whiny, selfish rich kid. In the second -- after inadvertently blowing
up a mining town -- he’s repentant, and after a quick haircut sets out to
change and make up for what he did.
Stage 2 Luke is my favorite of the bunch; he’s understandably shaken and
questions himself, but he doesn’t fall prey to angst. Instead, he focuses on what he can do. He uses his hidden power to operate
world-saving machinery, acts as an ambassador between warring countries, and not
only displays concern for his fellow men but also seemingly gains a few dozen
IQ points. He’s proactive, but also
thoughtful, and develops evenly over the course of the act. Though it should be said that Stage 1 Luke
isn’t necessarily awful; I have a hard time hating a character who eagerly
tells the pope to piss off.
Pfft, what a maroon. What kind of pope doesn't bare his midriff?
Stage 3 Luke is where
things start going wrong, and the detractors can likely point to it as
evidence. Here’s a scenario for you: you’ve
just finished going on a bombastic journey across the world with your motley
crew. You’ve gone from being a noble’s
son cooped up in a manor to (after discovering you’re a clone of the real noble’s
son), in no particular order, an ambassador who’s effectively ended a war, a
swordsman that can cleave through mechs, a symbol of hope for the people, a maintenance
technician for the entire planet, a symbol of hope for the people, an ally of
one of the highest authorities in the church, a symbol of hope for dozens,
including politicians as well as townsfolk, a warrior capable of trumping your
teacher (albeit with the typical four-on-one ganking common in RPGs), and the
virtual savior of every living being on the planet from continental collapse
and tumble into a poisonous underworld.
If I’d gone through all of that, I’d resign to a quiet life of mediation
and humble instruction, passing on my knowledge and skill to future heroes --
though of course, I’d spring into action whenever needed, be it ambassador work
or slice-and-dice diplomacy.
Stage 3 Luke has a
different plan. He just develops an
inferiority complex, becomes resentful and ashamed to be alive, and wonders --
frequently -- why he’s alive and what he’s supposed to do.
Seriously, Luke? I mean…fucking seriously?
Mo' midriff, mo' money, mo' meandering angst and aims at martyrdom.
I would be perfectly
all right with Stage 3 Luke being skipped completely -- or just taking his issues
and fusing them with Stage 2 Luke.
Because really, there are some important and interesting ideas that the
game’s third act brings to the table; they’re just handled poorly. I get that replicas have to face some
questions that would leave even a room full of philosophers stunned into
silence; hearing Luke spend every other cutscene (often more frequent than
that) put himself down doesn’t make for a compelling character or tale -- to
say nothing of the fact that his drive takes a nosedive while others do the
thinking for him, which is something Stage 2 Luke grew out of before the end of
Act 2.
There’s also a severe gameplay imbalance. The “too many cutscenes” issue leads to there
being a dearth of dungeon exploration -- and when you do eventually get to go
to a dungeon, there’s often not a
boss waiting for you. This is less of a
problem at the start of the game than it is in the later parts, and that’s
exacerbated by you going back to a couple of dungeons to conduct a largely
unimportant investigation. I view fights
-- and the victory that comes with them -- as more of a reward in Tales games than the cutscenes that tend to follow. Why the developers would choose to tuck those
away behind hours of backtracking to previously visited towns -- towns, not
dungeons -- to listen to the same general conversations is a baffling decision. It’s padding, plain and simple. And bad
padding, at that.
Midriff midriff midriff midriff midriff midriff midriff...
But even so, I can’t
bring myself to hate the game. I like it
a lot, even with its nitpick-begging issues (and make no mistake, I WILL
nitpick this game eventually). Is it perfect? No.
Does it overstay its welcome?
Yes. Is it worthy of the hate
heaped on it? That’s subjective, but I’d
argue no. Is it fun? It may sag at times, but for the most part,
yes.
That’ll do for
now. See you arou-
Oh wait, there’s one
more thing I don’t like about this game: Ion seriously sucks. He’s bad.
Just…bad.
Thanks to him, the word "midriff" has lost all its power.