Despite being in the somewhat enviable position (depending on your perspective) of being a Japanese videogame translator, I have traditionally taken little away from my time with JRPGs. Well that is not strictly true in that, like many of my age, I did spend far too much time in my early teens obsessing over classics such as Final Fantasy VII, Chrono Trigger, Tales of Mana etc., but in general, as time has passed, my interest in the genre has faded. I dabbled in the beautiful Ni no Kuni on the PS3 and also in later entries in the Final Fantasy series (even managing to derive some element of pleasure from XII), but otherwise the genre has been lost to me for over a decade now.
But when passing through the pages and forums of the gaming magazines and websites I respect and enjoy, I all too often come across the sentiment that I am missing out on something truly special if I do not give the Persona series a fair chance. Not doing so, it seems, is at best just being willfully ignorant, and at worst tantamount to sacrilege. So when Persona 4 Golden appeared on a recent PSN sale I felt compelled to purchase it. Despite my leanings away from the genre, I was curious and was eager to see what all the fuss was about. I did not go in expecting to be converted to a JRPG fan overnight, but I did hope to gain some insight into what it was that inspired such fandom in so many people.
First impressions were entirely favourable. A grounded and slightly sinister animated opening followed by an unorthodox, yet intriguing, set up. The game brimmed with potential. I couldn’t wait to see how it explored the many complexities of Japanese teenage-life, balancing the often contradictory demands of attending class, taking exams, forging an identity, making friends, avoiding bullies and dealing with an existence in a strange and slightly alien countryside town. Add to that a narrative thread that promised to delve into the complex relationship between your now guardian uncle, a single-father all too often absent through work, and his precocious yet lonely daughter, and I was hooked. As the first day of school ended with police sirens and a dead body dangling awkwardly over a household’s television aerial, I felt like I was on the verge of something great.
It is difficult to say exactly when it was that Persona 4 Golden lost me, but by the time I saw the credits roll all I felt was elation that I had finally escaped the drudgery. So much of the promise shown early on in the game had given way to the exact same trappings that had turned me off other titles in the genre previously, namely repetition and a puerile take on storytelling. What could have been unique and interesting side activities, such as going to football practice or joining a social club, quickly became dull, monotonous experiences that were nothing but a chore to sit through. What promised to be a mature look at teenage life was soon watered down to a level that would make Saved by the Bell appear edgy in comparison.
Grinding, be it through these side activities or through the main game’s dungeons (in their various forms), is, like every other JRPG I have played, a central core to the game’s progression. For all the subtleties involved in the Persona and Social Link systems, the battles still essentially come down to a contest of stats, and that, after a while, just becomes a slog. Fail to level yourself up enough and you run the risk of being defeated in one fell swoop, regardless of your approach to the battle. Now I will freely admit that it is unfair of me to hold this one aspect against the game when levelling up is common throughout many genres (and is present in many games that I love), but when it is combined with the uninspired JRPG dungeon-crawl then I simply cannot find enjoyment within its structure.
I could perhaps forgive the side activities at least if there was some element of interactivity to master in them, but the game would not even give me that. Instead what I got was a number of short and almost entirely passive scenes through which the game delivered me boosts in certain personality stats. Again this can almost be looked past given that some of these mini-dramas were actually quite interesting in concept, if not execution, but the truth is that when my time in the town of Inaba came to an end I felt a lonely character. Upon reaching a max level social bond with my football teammates they suddenly stopped asking me to practice. Upon achieving the maximum level bond with Chie, she suddenly stopped asking me to go out on dates. Sure, I may have achieved certain unique abilities or boosts in battle and in my Persona card dealings through these friendships, but from a story perspective what was the point in my spending so much time with these people? I guess I could always have tried to become better friends with Yosuke or Yukiko or whoever, but as I found their personalities a little grating, why would I force myself through that? It’s a role playing game after all and I played the role as close to reality as it would allow me. Maybe my ultimate loneliness says more about me than the game, but still that is how I chose to play the game and that is as valid as any other way.
If I come across as a little cynical then I guess it is because the game genuinely promised so much, but ultimately (for me) delivered little. Even when I thought it was going to be brave enough to tackle the issue of a young male character (Kanji) learning to accept his apparent homosexuality it pulled up short. I have read interviews with the developers explaining that they wanted the gamer to draw their own judgements on whether Kanji actually was or wasn’t gay, and heard arguments from others defending the assertion that Japanese sensibilities to these issues do not naturally accommodate such black or white conclusions, but for me that is a cop-out. The game goes to great lengths to show us how every other character MUST come to accept their true selves if they are to be happy, yet with Kanji that acceptance seems to be one of accepting that he is in limbo rather than one of accepting his true feelings (be they gay, straight or bi). It is just another example for me of the infantile approach the game takes to what are actually incredibly interesting issues. The same can be laid at the feet of the story between Nanako and her father. The game constantly hints at their fraught relationship, yet never has the balls to confront it directly. There are moments, such as Ryotaro coming home drunk and aggressive, or Nanako’s desire for her “big bro” to keep her company where it comes close to breaching this wall, but again the conclusions are always skin deep. Perhaps if I had chosen to develop my bond with Nanako further then I may have learned more, but through the prism of my playthrough I found the whole affair shallow and more than a little disappointing.
Persona 4 Golden is a game that has a decidedly partisan fan base, and I doubt my thoughts on the game will do anything to change that. As with all opinions they are entirely subjective, and what I might take from a game will be completely different to what the next person will. Therefore , I do not wish to denigrate others who did actually enjoy their experience with the game, just simply express a counterpoint to what seems to be a commonly held assertion that this is a classic of the genre. Sure, many of my opinions are probably clouded by my general dislike of JRPG tropes, but I would like to think myself old and experienced enough to overcome these biases. I gave the game a fair crack of the whip, and for a while, I was right there with it. But when I took that last train out of Inaba and back to the big city I felt little in the way of sadness or longing. I simply felt relieved that I could finally leave that episode in my life behind.
Did Persona 4 Golden re-spark my interest in the JRPG genre? Sadly, the answer would have to be no. If it would have had the confidence to stick to its early guns and tell a more thoughtful and mature story with none of the more monotonous genre trappings then I might be sitting here singing its praises, but as it is I find myself exhausted, deflated and in dire need of venting. I think for me, the genre will forever be defined by my first experience with Final Fantasy VII, and while I accept that many love this style of game and find no frustrations in the places where I do, in the end it is probably best I just accept (as the game wills me to do) that I simply do not like it. Final Fantasy XV though… Hmmmm
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