Videogames paved with cultural references are a long-standing tradition in Japan, with a constant mix of popular and high-brow, western and eastern citations being a mainstay not just in our medium but also in manga, anime, music and film. “Xenogears” mastermind Tetsuya Takahashi (executive director, concept and writer), upholds this logic wholeheartedly, making it a defining theme across his career. In fact, perhaps even more than with others, we can easily judge his merits solely guided by which authors and artworks serve as inspiration for his stories and design. Based on this, we can instantly understand “Xenoblade’s” greatest fault – its appropriation of good and bad in equal measure, with apparent blindness over which is which.

A long standing disciple of George Lucas’ space operettas and his Campbellian mono-mythology, Takahashi always strived to embody that unique sense of magic and faustian spectacularity in the interactive means. “Xenoblade” is, first and foremost, a baroque fantasy novel, devilishly ornamented with meticulous arabesques that spin the plot round and around, with quick and mad turns that make your head spin and tingle in anticipation of their insights and feel tremendous pleasure at the unfolding of their complex revelations. Dismally, unlike in his defining masterpiece “Xenogears”, Takahashi chose the easy way out for his newest release, catering to a larger audience by avoiding his trademark labyrinthine, overwrought philosophical ramblings which added much-needed depth to the lush, but inherently superficial exterior of his tales. You can still find subtle nuances to some of his most cherished obsessions, from classic science fiction (Arthur C. Clarke, Philip K. Dick), to Norse Mythology to Jung, but you find these so subdued and diluted it pains to see them written in with such levity.
It’s not just that the narrative is too much “Star Wars” and too little “2001” but that the aesthetic framing embitters its unfolding, with Japanimation antics robbing dramatic charge out of nearly every cut-scene. The fact is that “Xenoblade” ventures equally as often into “Evangelion” as it does to “Gundam” and “Super Sentai” territory, never managing the right equilibrium between its serious fictional background and the action-frenzy, humoristic silliness which is inherent to anime. Even more terrible is that this ill-fashion is deepened by its interactive fluff, which speaks the same base language. Vehemently criticize it we must for its ludomaniac tendency to cater to videogame sugar-junkies and their needs of excessive longevity, number of quests and achievements and customization and mechanics, inherited from such ludic antichrists as “Monster Hunter”, “World of Warcraft” or “Dragon Quest IX”. The game manages to somewhat balance that off by embracing Matsuno’s “Final Fantasy XII” semi-naturalist tactical combat and copying the socio-temporal dynamics of unjustly forgotten and still sole 3D “Zelda” masterpiece, Koizumi’s “Majora’s Mask”. The largely artificial gamification-driven architecture so becomes a tiny tad more human and genuine thanks to that astute addition, meaning you’re not just grinding your way up the statistics ladder, but being rewarded with snippets of insight on major characters and inhabitants, their world’s lore, personal stories, daily lives and relationships.

But the ‘coup de grace’ that just manages to save it from redundancy and utter lack of taste lies in the most welcome of citations to Ueda’s second masterpiece, “Shadow of the Colossus”. Herein, that sense of scale and vast unhindered exploration is taken to whole new levels, exponentiated in a clear exercise of exorbitant, opulent ambition in terms of set design (also a whim which Takahashi seems to revel in). The whole of the game-world is, quite literally, on top of two giants, with each scenery representing a small anamotic part of them, from the knees to the arms to the torso to the heads to the internal organs. “Xenoblade’s” geo-architectural venture baffles the mind for its scope, but it is the minutiae of its characterization that brings about admiration for the virtuosity involved. Technologically, it is a feat that deserves praise, with a rich aesthetic treatment (led by Norihiro Takami) gently pushing you to explore that insanely large world. Each setting has its own unique sense of visual and aural style, forming a body of  eclectic work covering several different themes, from warm naturalist pieces with nigh absurd texturization detail, to gentle dream-like landscapes with soft, hazy light (again Ueda), to more traditional, industrial science fiction and bright sweet fantasy pieces. These are all accompanied by a profuse mix of musical tracks very in line with what’s expected from J-RPG canon – symphonic opuses, j-pop melodies, Black Mages style hard-rock, etc. The diverse variety in composers (ACE+, Yoko Shimomura, Manami Kiyota and Yasunori Mitsuda) elevates it just slightly above standard fare, with some astute echoes of Sakamoto’s YMO work and Hisaishi’s melancholy making it shine in a few tracks.
Like its references, “Xenoblade” walks the fine line from genial to menial with uncouth bravado, leading to a confluence of pleasure and disgust that perfectly exemplifies the current state of its genre and even the medium itself. Bittersweet though it may be, we easily concede it to be one of the most fascinating epic adventures we have encountered in the recent past, it just pains us to also see it as one of the worst when it comes to delivery. In the end, we must look elsewhere to justify our verdict, and here dismay is the word of choice: “Final Fantasy XIII” is pathetic to say the least, “Fallout“, “Mass Effect” and their peers are all US, all muscle, no heart. “Lost Odyssey” is superior, but remains too classicist, too close to 90’s “Final Fantasy” to be understood as new. Truth of the matter is that traditional trope-constrained RPG’s have been on the decline, and whilst progressive ventures – “Folklore“, “Demon’s Souls“, “Yakuza 3” – have made the genre grow, propelling it towards the future, it would be dishonest not to admit we missed a nice, cozy little genre piece to keep us warm and comfy and dreamy and naive and childish at night. May “Xenoblade” be just that – a new and technically marvelous but fundamentally safe J-RPG. The popular and consensual reference for a generation where once none stood.

3/5

P.S: A small error was found by a user, concerning the name of J-RPG band, “Black Mages”. I apologize for the mix-up.

It would be easy to let our convictions shape our judgments, trampling over any doubt with fierce belief in their righteousness. But like leading detective Cole Phelps, we are constantly reminded of the unreliable nature of our perceptions and consequent reasoning, making even the neatest of open and shut cases tingle with the anxiety of unanswered questions. “LA Noire” is as murky and hard to interpret as any case in the noir genre – a game of stark contrasts of transcendent beauty and bestial darkness, a place where an idealist few get trampled by the cynicism of a corporate conspiracy.

The evidence points to a quick, hasty judgment: Rockstar is the culprit behind everything. Is this not an open world game, whose main character is a minutely detailed representation of morally corrupt 1940’s Los Angeles? Yes, but look yonder and the similarities fade out to reveal the gross disparities. The Housers look to open world as synonym of playful sandbox interactions, underpinning it with absurd, satirical overtones that blend to form a violent and cartoonish view of life. But “LA Noire” has none of this: it’s harsh and brutal in its search for serious realism and avoids distractions from its perfectly linear expose on film noir. The use of a new technique for facial animation is a symbolic element of that pursuit: never have characters in a videogame achieved such a degree of emotional breadth with their characterization. And whilst the technique has obvious faults – body’s animations are stiff and fail to blend harmoniously with the uncanny facial expressions – its superb cast ensemble, of unprecedented scope and notability, makes “LA Noire” part of the small elite of videogames with a strong human anchor in their fictional expression. Peter Blomquist, Patrick Fischler, John Noble and Andrew Connolly have performances worthy of critical praise, and were this a TV show or film, they would be thoroughly deserving of nominations to Golden Globe awards. All in all, it’s this sort of care with narrative exposition that makes a compelling case for Brendan Mcnamara’s (director of the underrated “Getaway”) sensibilities being on the forefront of “LA Noire’s” preoccupations… though this is not to claim that Rockstar’s publishing does not equate in the final product. Sadly, it does, and with serious consequences.

“LA Noire” is often guilty of severe inconsistencies, most of which born from an apparent clash between Mcnamara’s own stylistic agenda and an acute attentiveness to market demands, one which we can’t help but associate with the giant that sits at the helm. The most obvious and significant of these contradictions is the default color mode of the game. In full color, everything seems awfully gaudy and saturated, like old movies used to look on set before cameras translated the full visual spectrum of the eccentric wardrobes and make-up into a neat barrage of light and shadow. “LA Noire” was clearly meant to be played in monochrome, and it looks stunning when that option is turned on, emulating with astounding accuracy the chiaroscuro look of classic crime cinema. The option to play it in color only serves to betray the work’s faithfulness and coherence as an aesthetic object, marring the noir experience beyond repair. It’s as offensive a choice as would be to change Andrew and Simon Hale’s nostalgic Hollywood orchestrations and jazzy tunes to unplugged versions of Amy Winehouse singles. Thankfully, they didn’t go that far.

But Rockstar still managed to further subvert the game’s structure in seeking to make it more appeasable to mainstream audiences. There’s an overlong main campaign filled with redundancies, mild RPG elements, side-missions and, worst of all, an interactive landscape with frequent ludus overtones in the form of mission ratings, achievements and win/lose dynamics. These elements all find resonance in “GTA IV” and “Red Dead Redemption”, but play an off-beat, dissonant melody to Team Bondi’s own cinematic aspirations. As a game, “LA Noire” seeks to simulate a detective’s inner workings, as he relates with victims, tries to understand witnesses and catch culprits, figuring out who’s who, which facts stick and how, and discerning the manner each piece of evidence fits into the narrative. By dumping game-logic on top of this dynamic, you end up with a trial and error pamphlet which, apart from a few astute twists, goes to great lengths in making it clear when you found the right clues, the right testimony… the right culprit. This means that in “LA Noire”, there is little questioning of your actions and choices, never giving up the experience for you to interpret it. This choice muddles Mcnamara’s film-class writing (decades ahead of its peers), which treats the genre’s themes and tropes with subtlety and ambiguity, aptly conjuring Ellroy’s finest novels, only to find them losing their moral edge thanks to a subservient attitude face the audience.

“LA Noire” had the potential to be one of the finest examples of its open-world genre. It takes some of the worst preconceptions in the medium – that a game must be extremely non-linear, playful, devoid of narrative and cutscenes – and turns them upside down, using interactivity solely as a novel, profound way to connect players to age-old fiction. It has the courage not to take inspiration from the ubiquitous “GTA”, but from under-appreciated adventure games such as “Noir, A Shadowy Thriller” or “Discworld Noir” and progressive neo-adventure titles such as Suzuki’s “Shenmue” and Cage’s own “Heavy Rain”. Works whose very essence yearns for deeper relationship with characters, settings and simple stories. As such, it gets nigh close to interactive bliss, missing it only due to the fallibility of its own high aspirations. For to succeed, McNamara’s vision needed an equally understanding and mature audience. Failing that, concessions would be made, barring access to a greater truth. And thus Rockstar stepped in, and transformed “LA Noire” into a half-concocted videogame hybrid fit for the masses… Noir teaches us that bad guys always win and “LA Noire”, even in that regard, is truthful to its source material.

4/5

The Houser brothers are a one key affair, unable to move beyond the confining boundaries of their one defining work; if anything, “Red Dead Redemption” is a cruel reminder of this fact. Here we are, yet again, in presence of “GTA’s” sand-box structure, and no matter how much time passes by, we find little change to its core foundations. Surely, minor elements were adapted to the western setting, but remove such secondary drivel, and you’ll find yourself playing “GTA III”, only with horses and sheriffs and desert in place of cars and policemen and cities. Where the game has evolved, it aims to please the saccharine junkies of gamification, inducing players to enter labyrinthine corridors of grinding, in byzantine collections of missions, mini-games, quests, sub-quests, side-quests, in-game achievements, xbox live achievements, trophies, all offering the bliss of abstract rewards with no added value to the experience. For supposed upholders of open-world gameplay, Rockstar has turned out a certified hypocrite of political proportions, promising the myth of Uncle Sam’s freedom and liberty, whilst enslaving players in a myriad of goal infested paraphernalia.  Even main-quest offerings are riddled with minute sub-goals on how to play, dictating your actions to the smallest detail, leaving little, if anything, up to players’ skill, exploration or imagination.

We’d be willing to concede to these  nefarious elements were there any ulterior purpose or aesthetic virtue lying beyond them. But what is “Red Dead Redemption” about? The west’s ruthlessness and savageness? A criminal’s attempt at moral redemption?  The choice between government and free enterprise, fascism and anarchy, corruption and lawlessness? If anyone claims to such foolishness, pay no heed – Rockstar treats these subject matters with the subtlety of an ox at a rodeo, hammering away words, jesting incoherently in a foul attempt at satire. Whereas such a stylistic choice made sense in the morally and culturally decayed urban sprawl of “GTA”, in the wild west it feels like a cop-out.  The western genre holds many rich themes for those that move beyond its formulaic surface (think Cormac McCarthy or Clint Eastwood) and even in parody terrain one finds such modern and unusual revisitations as Coen’s “True Grit”. But here, as elsewhere, Rockstar shows its limitations, mistaking conflict with bullet-time shooting, characters with sources of quests, plot with amalgam of film citations, soundtrack with mess of procedurally generated western music tropes glued together to resemble elevator music.

Redemption seems at hand when it comes to the feel of the old west. There’s true sensorial delight to be found in the exploration of the game’s world, basking in the naturalist splendor of the genre’s iconic landscapes. Journeying through a virtual Monument Valley, rocked by your horse’s rhythmic gallop, playing to it with your interactive spurs, listening to the hard clanking of hooves echoing in the texturey sand… it’s as close to a climax as the game gets. Fortunately, players are even invited to explore the scenery constantly, in long winding trips across the desert, beneath the glaring sun or stark moon. In between the long horse rides, there’s the occasional semi-honest attempt at characterizing life in the west, with menial cowboy tasks  establishing a welcome sense of roleplay. But it would be naïve to jump the bandwagon and simply applaud “Red Dead Redemption” vehemently on account of its audiovisual finesse and occasional simulational flair, since they find little resonance in other expressive vectors.  And if its sheer technique one wishes to evaluate, one can as easily praise the technical marvel of the landscape rendering, as criticize the appalling character modeling, with men tailored with the poise of a retired wrestling ape, and women with the beauty of a travesty Hammer monstrosity. Which is ultimately why it is impossible to take the title’s aspiration to western drama seriously – the characters are ugly and bear the emotional depth of a desert puddle. As far as escapist voyages can go, make no mistake, “Red Dead Redemption” is truly worth for the long hauls towards the sunset… just don’t think there’s anything else to explore in this barren, lifeless land.

score: 3/5