I just saved myself a few bucks. After hearing that Final Fantasy IX was being "ported" over to PSN as a downloadable Game Archive, I went digging through the crate where I keep all my PSX games, and gave it a spin via the PS3. I guess I wanted to do this for a long time, since after two straight weeks, I finished up the game last night. I picked it up at launch, and played through it originally back in 2000, 10 years ago for those of you keeping score. I was surprised how much of the game I remembered. Although it was maybe less due to my retention of the places and events of the game, and more to do with how derivative it was to begin with. This installment is held in pretty high regard by nerds who hold these things in regard to begin with. It was recently voted "Best RPG ever" or something by someone. I think it's a decent game, but nowhere near "best anything ever" status.
FF IX, for those of you who may not be old enough to remember, was the last Playstation Final Fantasy released. It also had the (mis)fortune of following Final Fantasy VIII. Back then, just like now, FF VIII is a highly polarizing game. You either love it, or hate it. Square must have felt this sort of response was not what Final Fantasy needed, and instructed the producers (Hironou Sakaguchi et. al.) to come up with something to please everybody. That's a pretty tall order, especially when dealing with hordes of recently-internet-enabled nerds. How does one go about creating something all fans would instantly like? Heap on the fanservice, and throw in everything short of the kitchen sink. The problem with implementing as many features and ideas as possible, is that it all adds up to a formless gray mass, instead of a unique experience.
For FF IX the producers decided to throw out everything they've built up with the previous two games (Final Fantasies VII and VIII, surprise!), and instead went for a remake of Final Fantasy VI of sorts. No more Materia (yes!), no more Junctions (boo~!), no more Limit Breaks (sorta). Characters are given unique, preset "jobs," without having to resort to recycling that specific system as well (meh). A lancer stays a lancer until the end, no class changes for you. The designers thankfully decided to expand upon the basic formula they were copying, if only a little. All skills, instead of just magic, can now be learned through different equipment, instead of only Magicite shards. If you want your "thief" main character to know how to "mug," give him a dagger with that skill embedded, and kill enough critters to earn the points necessary to retain that skill. Simple, effective, derivative. This system has a unique side effect of forcing the player, who wants to have as many skills as possible, to switch character's equipment load-outs manually, instead of relying on the "optimize" shortcut on the equipment screen. It also encourages hoarding, as the basic equipment you started the game with may help a character you don't get until disc three to learn a few skills. As well as picking up any and all equipment from stores along the way, regardless of whether it's stronger than the current gear. Not bad, but not exactly ground breaking. If anything, Final Fantasy IX is the most polished Final Fantasy experience to date.
One facet that did surprise me was the audio department, specifically the music. Handled here by the series' mainstay, Nobuo Uematsu. Back when I played this game originally, I was not big into game music. In fact I would often turn the game audio completely off, and instead listen to my personal music CD's. (Back when music came on physical pieces of shiny plastic, you whipper snappers!) Hence, to this day, every time I listen to Fear Factory's album Demanufacture, I'm reminded of Final Fantasy VIII. Thanks to this (bad) habit I can claim that I fully heard Final Fantasy IX for the first time only recently, through a set of 5.1 headphones no less. I'm vary glad I did. While I consider most of Uematsu's work uninteresting, background music in every sense of the word, some pieces on the FF IX score are simply brilliant. A new personal favorite of mine is 'Loss Of Me,' which is used a pseudo theme for the antagonist General Beatrix. My heretofore favorite character, now also claims my favorite music of the entire game, and possibly series. 'Protecting My Devotion,' featured during the brief time the player spends controlling her is another stunner. Qu's March is another inspired piece, completely thrown away on a side area that can be mostly skipped, save for a brief, one-way trek through it on the way to the real destination. One reason why I never noticed Uematsu's talent previously is his often painfully basic instrumentation (which I noticed very early). He has pretty much used the same collection of sounds for the entire body of his work. It's all synthesizer, bells, and the occasional "whoop!" with this guy. I was especially disappointed by this in Final Fantasy VII, the first optical media-based game in the series. I was expecting to be blown away by an incredible symphonic, CD-quality score, instead I got the same unembellished synth I've always heard, only this time pumped out by the PSX's (terrible) MIDI synth, instead of the outstanding SNES hardware (both Sony parts, ironically). As such, I'm always drawn to the pieces when Uematsu throws "convention" to the wind, and decides to spice things up with a new instrument or two. 'You're Not Alone' is such a track, incorporating electric guitar riffing along with the keyboard and drum beat. A foreshadowing to his rock-and-roll experimentation in Final Fantasy X and Blue Dragon. The "last" boss battle theme, 'Dark Messenger,' is similarly styled, and awesome. Nobuo Uematsu rocks! \m/
In the end, Final Fantasy IX does a lot of things right. In fact, it's sole purpose for existing is to "fix" all the little rough spots of previous entries. It begins aboard an airship, for starters. But seeing how little it brings to the table of its own, I can't shower it with praise. I've recently came to the realization that the dings, dents, and rough edges are what make games memorable. An age old art trick we should be utilizing if we ever want these video game things be considered "art" by people who consider such things.
