When I read that Final Fantasy VIII would be a love story my expectations for the game ran high. I felt a shiver as I watched the preview movie included with Parasite Eve. I bought Brave Fencer Musashi just so I could play the demo. After months of anticipation, I rushed out and immediately acquired my copy when the game hit the shelves in early 1999.
From the opening moments I was truly and madly in love with Final Fantasy. The visuals were gorgeous, the music was lush, and the game play was exciting. The nostalgic, school romance tone of the game’s early chapters was so perfect I felt sure the love would last forever. However, about 20 hours in to it, things began to go sour.
The battles became frequent, tedious, and often painfully difficult. I never could figure out the Junction system. Final Fantasy VIII’s card collecting mini-game was completely impossible. I grew to loath the interminably long Guardian Force summoning animations. The story fractured and evaporated into nothing. After 65 hours of ennui, I was going through the motions. I had completely forgotten the narrative set up. Who were these people? What were they doing? I don’t know, trying to save the world or something. Just keep pressing the X button.
Then without warning, the game turned on me. I had reached the first of a long series of frustrating confrontations that make up Final Fantasy VIII’s ending and the game became so maddeningly difficult, that after numerous failures I simply gave up. I hit a brick wall and could proceed no further. Putting the game away, I worked through the five stages of grief. Anger, denial, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance.
For some reason though, I kept the game. I wanted to get rid of it but I never followed through. I watched as the used game market was flooded with copies sold off by wiser players than myself. Many times I considered deleting the Final Fantasy VIII saved game file that was taking up valuable space on my memory card but could never quite bring myself to do it. Months would go by without ever thinking of playing Final Fantasy VIII but it was always there, quietly gnawing at me. The game and I had a relationship. The kind of unhappy, poisonous relationship that takes over after love dries up.
One day, five (yes, FIVE) years later, I started up Final Fantasy VIII again on a lark. Predictably, I found myself stuck in the same groove as before. After a few tries, my finger hovered over the delete button. I hesitated. So much time had been invested. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Once more, I’ll give it one more try. Then, much to my surprise I actually made it past the battle that had blocked me for so long. Well, that’s it then. Let’s finish this thing. And I did. After a few ugly, frustrating, and definitely not fun days, I pushed through to the end. When it was over I felt no joy, no sense of accomplishment. Only a dry, empty feeling lingered. I was haunted by the thought that I could have better spent my time doing something else but I had no clue what. After the credits rolled, I went into the console’s memory manager, selected Final Fantasy VIII and hit delete.
Sony Playstation
Square EA/Square
1999
game review by J.B. Fleming, 6-7-04
November 9, 2006 at 7:19 pm
I had similar eventual hatred my first time through. When I finally beat the game, though, I had the exact opposite reaction. The hugely long and (at the time)graphically mindblowing ending somehow crystalized a respect and wonder for the game that had been missing since those first 2 dozen hours. On my second playthrough I learned to play the game the easy way- never fight anything you don’t have to. Since your party is given the abillity to avoid any nonscripted battle fairly near the beginning, you can skate through the game at your own pace. Boss monsters are scaled to your level, and with a little draw grinding become laughably easy (the final boss’ ultimate attack did 5 damage per character in my game). This leaves the player to see the sights, follow the story, and play cards (which, unlike yourself, I admit I loved to do). Doing things this way kept events running smoothly without any of the dreaded “tell me why I’m in this anceint dungeon/sewer/arboretum agian” syndrome. In fact, without lots of battles and leveling, the game comes in at less than thirty hours - short enough to stay enthralling throughout. At any rate, its to bad the game makes it hard on players for playing it the way they’ve played any other RPG. If one doesn’t, though, it really is a great adventure.