So it’s 2000.
You’ve just had eight main-series Final Fantasies (or six, if you’re in the West)
creating a worldwide sensation, you’re on the cusp of developing a hyper-realistic CG
feature film based on the franchise (because isn’t that just a FANTASTIC idea), and you’re
settling into a groove with this newfangled optical media.
You’ve got the space, you’ve got the knowhow, and you’ve got the audience to create something
incredible.
Then you give everyone a miss, go back to your roots, and make something even better.
IX was, to many, the last REAL Final Fantasy.
To others, it was an abandonment of the futuristic aesthetic that started to show its face in
6, developed in 7, and exploded in 8.
You’ve still got airships, political intrigue, and chocobos... but it feels much more natural
for Zidane to be riding one than, say, Squall.
When I say “going back to the series’ roots,” I have to qualify the hell out of
it.
After all, this is a series that reinvents itself with every outing, leading to a paradoxical
combination of “They changed it now it sucks” and “All JRPGs are alike.”
Case in point, the cast of characters.
Everyone thought that having immutable classes was a Final Fantasy “thing,” when only
three games in the series - 4, 6, and then 9 - featured this.
Some characters were “Flavored” a certain way, of course.
Quistis is kind of a Blue Mage, and Cid Highwind is kind of a Dragoon, but you can stick whatever
summons, junctions, or command materia you want on either.
If anything, IX represents a return to when class actually mattered: Vivi’s existence
AS a Black Mage is significant to the plot, as is Garnet’s existence AS a summoner,
and so on down the line.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
You’ve got your standard evil empire, headed by a corrupt (and frankly ugly) dictator,
whose (inexplicably gorgeous) daughter runs away from home during a Shakespearian-esque
performance aboard a theater-airship.
One member of this airborne troupe-slash-thieves’ guild is Zidane, a would-be adventurer and
ladies’ man, whose first instinct upon meeting said princess is to lay on the moves.
Kind of unprecedented for Final Fantasy, which had at that point retreated to emotionally-distant
protagonists who only grudgingly have anything to do with the rest of the cast.
Add a few royal relationships, a ball-busting Knight Templar, the return of an equipment
system that allows for wearing more than two items at a time, an AP-based ability-learning
system tailored to each character, and plenty of backhanded references to its predecessors,
and you’ve got an engaging, interesting game.
And then the soundtrack.
Oh, the soundtrack.
Forsaking the techno-driven aspects of its two most recent predecessors, IX picked up
its oboe and pennywhistle and returned to a more ren-faire flair, in keeping with the
traditional motif.
You can justify a playthrough of this game simply to hear what I consider to be the best-sounding
entry in the series.
And no discussion of IX would be complete without mentioning the Active Time Event system,
basically an optional pause in the main narrative to provide a glimpse of what’s going on
outside your party.
One could consider this a diametric counterpart to the Star Ocean series’ Private Actions,
which give you supplemental information and details on your party, but remaining focused
on the main character as a participant in each exchange.
ATEs grant the same kind of information, but completely divorced from the character you
control, giving an even more naturalistic look at the actions of your compatriots.
If it sounds like I’ve taken too hard a turn into the analytical, know that if any
Final Fantasy deserves it, it’s IX.
This game set out to be a distillation of the entire series, and comes up with a concentrated,
focused experience that rewards close attention as well as the occasional sidequest.
If I have any gripes with the experience, it’s that the card-game system is a complete
afterthought, suffering from both overcomplicated mechanics and a lack of tangible benefits.
You can be the greatest card player in the world, but aside from respect and a certificate,
that means nothing at all.
Give it a pass, and just enjoy the game for what it is, devoid of the dark cynicism that
any current trends in the series might have instilled in you.
After all, Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.