Final Fantasy 12 Was a Total Train Wreck

I know this sounds totally irrelevant, because everybody, presumably, is totally gushing about how damn amazing Final Fantasy XIII is right now, but I really do have to get this off my chest. Even though I myself, somewhat ironically, was gushing about number thirteen in a review  finally, finally sold last week (hurrah!) but I guess that’s just how it goes. I hated number twelve, if I’m going to be absolutely, brutally, shamelessly honest with you. Why? There are all kinds of weird reasons for such a contention on my part.

First of all, I felt that the characters in XII were hopelessly and mind numbingly dull, on all accounts. The protagonist was a bland, gormless teenager who could barely string a sentence together, and the hammy American actor who did his voiceover truly set me teeth on edge. It truly justifies the age old metaphor of the sound of a car getting battered to death with an iron pole, as it really was a ghastly effort on his part.

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Sure, many of you will leap up and say hey, stop right there! You’re totally forgetting about Balthier, the sexy and sassy pilot with the crisp English accent who cracks witty jokes all the time (oh man that just gave me a great idea for another piece. Excellent.) I haven’t forgotten, I can assure you of that, my lovely feathered friends. Balthier, admittedly, is the most interesting characters by a long shot in XII, but we all know that a single badass character cannot carry the whole title on its own. Cough! Auron! Cough!

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Secondly, it seemed to me that number XII was lacking in any sense of soul or personality, a corporate and sterile rip off of the Star Wars franchise with little regard to breaking clichés and traditional plot lines. The only innovative factor of it was the game play, which certainly was something new and exciting, but ultimately irrelevant. What’s the point in trudging through all those admittedly enjoyable little fights if you don’t give a damn about any of the characters involved? I genuinely wouldn’t have cared if Vaan came out as gay, or if bland old Basch decided to hack his own hand off out of sheer existential angst.

I know that sounds cold, but I’ve been reading Giles Coren columns, so I really can’t help it. But my opinion still stands – this was a soulless product with a great deal of flash, but zero substance. Proceed you with your tears.

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