I’ve played through many Final Fantasies in my time, but Closing Fantasy 16 somehow feels like an eternity ago? Many of its quests serve as a means to establish geographical and narrative gaps between pivotal moments in the story. In this unassuming single-character action-RPG, what were once tedious errands – tasks as mundane as delivering lunch or gathering herbs – are reinvigorated through a sense of scope and scale, as characters navigate a richly detailed world with each incremental step.
Even the most pulse-pounding iterations adhere to a formula that becomes second nature: a lively but largely unremarkable chat; a trek along a scenic yet uninspiring route that’s likely been partly explored before; and a skirmish with just a few monsters that have probably been effortlessly defeated numerous times previously. Throughout your journey towards the climax, a few standout side quests await – engaging storylines that delve deeper into the experiences of key allies before tackling the final challenge of the Massive Unhealthy. Most side quests offer flexibility, allowing players to bypass level-up rewards if they prefer. Despite lacking a means to determine the going rate, you’re also unable to bypass paying a fair portion of the listed value. Lacking any respite from the drudgery, the absence of engaging minigames is perhaps the most egregious omission, leaving players to suffer through tedious busywork with no relief in sight: no absorbing card game, no thrilling snowboard sequence or bizarre excursion into animal husbandry to mitigate the tedium.
One major reason Closing Fantasy 16 feels disproportionately lengthy is its focus on a single protagonist, Clive Rosfeld, a disgraced noble whose journey unfolds almost exclusively through his perspective. Clive is not a particularly horrible firm in equity. As he stands shrouded in a darkness of regret and sorrow, his icy demeanor gradually melts away, revealing a complexity that’s typical of protagonists in virtual storytelling – a narrative arc where characters typically overcome their troubled pasts to find redemption. While initially struck by his unappealing nature, I was astonished by the extent to which my perception of him shifted 50 hours later – a transformation that defies explanation as simple Stockholm Syndrome. As Clive matures believably, he forges or rekindles meaningful connections, coalesces a clear objective, and even achieves a vocal range that extends beyond his signature anguished growl. I wouldn’t have invested 50 hours witnessing his studious endeavors only to be left with a lasting sense of disillusionment regarding the individual in question, whose gruff demeanor failed to leave a profound impact on me.
Final Fantasy XVI boasts a cast of remarkably charismatic protagonists. Among the early sport’s inaugural players is Ralph Inneson’s Cid, an undeniably captivating figure from Leeds’ local dialect, whose rugged good looks and impressive physique – think twinkling eyes, a powerful build, and an athletic wedge of chest – make him an ideal mentor for Clive. Afterward, Stewart Clarke introduces Dion, the first openly gay character in Closing Fantasy’s narrative, a melancholic prince ensnared in toxic family dynamics that threaten to consume him. Despite the repeated assertions to the contrary, it’s difficult not to view Cid and Dion as mere background decorations – my primary recollection is of their clothing, mannerisms, and affectations serving as little more than props to facilitate Clive’s plodding introspection. And for each strong supporting actor FF16 has, it delivers an underwhelming cavalcade of inconsequential characters. The female characters within the narrative are woefully underdeveloped, reduced to one-dimensional and cringeworthy stereotypes, perpetuating harmful gender biases; the show’s heavy reliance on Game of Thrones tropes further exacerbates this issue. Jill, Clive’s lifelong confidante and childhood sweetheart, possesses an enduring fragility, her introverted nature making her an enigmatic presence in social gatherings. Benedicta, a cunning spy and deadly henchwoman from the shadows of a far-off, foreboding kingdom, is a ravishing siren who weaves her web of deceit with calculated precision. Clive’s mother, Isabelle, was a masterfully manipulative individual with a tongue as sharp as her wit.
The decision to collaborate with Clive stems from a desire to create an even more accessible narrative than the party-centric storytelling of earlier installments. While Closing Fantasy 16 initially appears to revolve around Clive’s character, its most astute move is actually subverting his central importance. Before diving in, let’s establish a clear context for our exploration. In the sprawling fantasy realm of Valisthea, rival kingdoms engage in a brutal struggle for dominance over diverse magical forces and resources. In the heart of Valisthea lie the resplendent Mothercrystals, towering mana formations that yield the majority of the realm’s magical energies in the form of gleaming, fragmented shards. There exist the Bearers, a stigmatized underclass of enslaved individuals capable of wielding magic without relying on crystals. In this realm, the Eikons stand as godlike entities, inspired by the legendary summons from the esteemed Closing Fantasy series. Their reputation is further bolstered by the coveted presence of human Dominants, capable of harnessing these divine energies.
Valisthea’s ancient landscapes, scarred by the passage of time and the whispers of forgotten histories, are a testament to the unfathomable forces that have shaped this realm. The ancient civilization had constructed impressive structures, comprising gleaming fortresses, bustling marketplaces with a convincing air of chaos, and intricate underground chambers that effectively shrouded secrets. Its limitations are partly due to homogeneity, in several senses; namely, the uniformity of input data and the narrowness of context. The sprawling layout comprises labyrinthine passages and combat zones that, while visually distinct, share an uncanny sameness in terms of spatial design and functionality. While Valisthea’s inhabitants boast a predominantly Anglophone British voice and appear white, the region’s cultural landscape is paradoxically influenced by North African and Middle Eastern elements, raising concerns about cultural appropriation and echoing themes of expatriate enclaves. The medieval fantasy aesthetic often appears dull, compared to the richer, more vibrant color schemes and immersive geography found in older turn-based video games. Moreover, social constructions are not particularly convincing: the Bearers’ treatment of slavery feels like a hasty attempt to tackle complex issues, largely based on representations of such themes in other video games.
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Beyond the perennial squabbles over treasured MacGuffins, the realm teeters on the brink of catastrophe as a sinister blight ravages the land, its very fabric seemingly entwined with the mystical forces that sustain it. Can Clive’s initial drive to uncover the truth behind his family’s demise be attributed to his desire to expose those responsible, as well as an enigmatic rogue Dominant capable of harnessing the dark power of Ifrit? As fate would have it, he finds himself reluctantly thrust into the role of savior of the world, embarking on a perilous journey from a strategic base within the heart of the global expanse to confront an array of formidable foes and unravel the mysteries of the enigmatic Blight. As tensions escalate in the latter stages of the conflict, the focus shifts from territorial disputes and material possessions to a profound showdown between rival forces operating behind the scenes.
With his ability to absorb the powers of the Dominants, Clive emerges as a multifaceted character, both playable and integral to the narrative, capable of harnessing the forces he encounters through befriending or defeating them.
In a bold departure from the traditional party-based formula of the Final Fantasy series, the majority of FF16’s grand supporting characters are relegated to mere fuel for the sulky himbo Clive, allowing him to unleash devastating darkswords and perform acrobatic aerial juggles. It’s astonishing how fleeting their sense of accomplishment truly is. To achieve this end.
While Clive’s ability to absorb Dominants and incorporate Valisthea’s entirety within himself may seem like a typical power-up progression, it actually harbors a darker undercurrent, elevating this plotline into a complex and foreboding narrative thread. Exploring the intricacies of this concept is a highly rewarding experience. As a loyal Squaresoft aficionado familiar with clever foreshadowing, I’m hesitant to invest in a lengthy introduction, assuming its payoff may not be sufficient to justify the effort.
Nor do I think the fight, although the fight itself is indeed sweet. Final Fantasy XVI has a comparable tone to Devil May Cry, but unlike that series’ brief, stylish cutscenes, FF16 boasts an enormous number of scenes that are exponentially more elaborate. In this identical world of exploration and combat, players can unleash combos and special attacks with carefully managed cooldowns between strikes, culminating in the staggering of enemies. This staggered state, reminiscent of Final Fantasy XIII, presents a brief window where attacks deal increased damage and the enemy remains vulnerable, unable to counterattack.
The unlockable Eikons’ distinctive designs gradually build upon a common foundation. Players can seamlessly switch between three characters in real-time, each tailored to distinct playstyles: the velocity-focused Garuda, which excels at juggling combos, and the charge-based Bahumut, whose signature trick is a rapid AOE lightning assault that demands evasive maneuvers. Once you’ve linked up with a considerable amount of Eikons, a substantial amount of theorycrafting awaits your attention. While the controls prove intuitive, the visually appealing animations and results that come with high-end features of a Final Fantasy game are somewhat marred by inconsistent performance, ultimately feeling diluted due to its very lean presentation. As you navigate treacherous landscapes, prepare to face numerous adversaries hell-bent on hindering progress, making it all too easy to fall into the trap of relying on sheer force rather than exploiting the nuances of the stagger mechanism, only to find yourself stuck in a seemingly endless loop of quests and battles.
When the bread-and-butter battles become dull, the epic final confrontations provide a welcome respite. Initially, matches begin as epic conflicts, with participants embodying their unique Eikon personas, each boasting a distinctive set of abilities and moves. Without hesitation, the sequence degenerates into brazen, unapologetic quick-time event (QTE)-driven cinematic extravaganzas, holding their own against even the most exuberant summon sequences in turn-based video games. Mechanics are seamlessly woven together from diverse genres, such as the frenetic pace of bullet hell and the precision of on-rails capturing. While it’s true that the dramatic music swells may be amplified by the absurdity of questing for sports-themed lunches, I believe this diminishes the genuine impact of the crescendos themselves? Enix off straightforward. In an RPG with a more focused narrative, these powerful adversaries might have literally belted out show-stopping performances.
Notwithstanding uncertainty, a dramatic reduction in play length might not have significantly impacted FF16’s underlying strengths. Despite the constraints imposed by having a solitary protagonist and the specific alternative of Clive as frontman, the sport still manages to break through this glass ceiling, using it as a reflection point to explore new possibilities.
This lavish epic, while at times engrossing, proves a rewarding experience for those willing to invest time and patience. While it wouldn’t rival the unbridled energy and spectacle of the Final Fantasy VII remakes in terms of sheer wow factor. Its main characters could play supporting roles in Midgar’s underbelly, fleshing out the eclectic ensemble at Seventh Heaven bar. As Jill stood near the jukebox, she endeavored to avoid being misidentified as a cleaning tool. As the charismatic bartender, Cid commands attention with his very presence, but tonight, he’s calling it quits before the night has even reached its peak. And Clive? Clive, a perennially down-on-his-luck individual, inexplicably finds himself a magnet for female attention despite his propensity to dominate conversations with tedious accounts of domestic disputes that refuse to leave him alone.
