I always used to be one for having my game's voices in English. I liked being able to understand what they were saying as well as reading the subtitles on screen. In some cases, I didn't have the option; I'll always associate Persona 3 and 4 with English voices, for example, even though, in retrospect, it would probably be better with Japanese voice acting. In others, the English voiceover job was so genuinely good that I didn't want to try the Japanese version — Xenoblade Chronicles springs immediately to mind in this regard.
I can remember the moment that I realised Japanese voice acting was something worth exploring even though I didn't speak the language, though. It was while I was playing the utterly terrifying PSP visual novel/adventure game Corpse Party — one of my favourite games on that platform, and legitimately one of the most disturbing games I've ever experienced — that I realised that, frankly, Japanese video game voice actors aren't afraid to let rip with the utterly raw emotion. They'll shout until their voice cracks; they'll scream; they'll cry. And by God, they sound like they mean it.
It was around one of the many points in Corpse Party where one of the characters is bawling their eyes out and screaming in terror at the horrific situation they've found themselves in that I realised when it comes to voice acting in games — which are typically accompanied by subtitles, particularly in the visual novel and JRPG genres — it's not about the words that are being said, but about how they're being said. It didn't matter that I didn't understand the Japanese words that were being screeched into my ears (seriously, play that game on headphones and you'll never want to turn the light out again) — the meaning was all too clear simply from the tone of voice.
Those who have been reading regularly will know that I've been playing Ar Tonelico 3 recently. I played the first game in that series in English, largely because I found the English voices in the video cutscenes too jarring when paired with Japanese speech in the main game. I played the second in Japanese because I'd been warned that the English dub, much like the overall translation job, was somewhat questionable. And I started the third in English, but after not very long I switched to Japanese. It is a decision I did not regret.
It's very obvious from the huge rift in quality between the English and Japanese voice tracks in something like Ar Tonelico 3 that the English actors are, for the most part, phoning it in somewhat, while the Japanese actors care about what they're doing. In many cases, it is the difference between a rush job (English) and having well-known professionals handle the voices.
I witnessed a scene this evening — no spoilers — that had me more than a little choked up due to the amount of raw emotion and passion that the actress playing one of the characters was throwing into the delivery of her lines. I believed that she meant what she was saying. This character was supposed to be upset, and I believed that.
The other thing that comes into play is that when a game's dialogue has been translated relatively literally from the original Japanese rather than fully localised, reading it out loud in English often sounds very stilted and artificial, simply because that's not how English people talk. We don't say things like "what is this, all of a sudden?" and start entire conversations with "By the way". We don't refer to ourselves in the third person to be cute. (Usually. Saki will do it!) And we don't use the term "lovey-dovey" anywhere near as much as Japanese people apparently do.
There's nothing wrong with doing a literal translation from the Japanese — so long as you do it with enough care to make it understandable, of course — but if you're going to take this approach to translation, I've come to the conclusion it's best to leave the voices as they are. If, on the other hand, you're going to take the Ace Attorney/Cherry Tree High Comedy Club/Recettear approach to localisation and actually make the dialogue significantly and noticeably more "Western" in the process, then we can talk about English voiceovers.
I must confess to always having found an attitude like the one I just described a little snobby in the past. Having immersed myself in this side of gaming (and anime) culture for this long, though, I totally get it. Once you get used to the infinitely more professional job Japanese voice actors do on productions like Ar Tonelico (and even on lighter fare like Hyperdimension Neptunia, for that matter) you'll likely never want to go back.
I overheard a Twitter conversation the other day (yes, I'm back on there, largely to make my professional self easier to reach if necessary) in which disparaging comments were thrown around regarding people who "play games for the story".
I haven't posted about Ar Tonelico for a while, and having just witnessed the "bad ending" of the third game (ooh, it's bad) I feel now may be a good time for a progress report on my thoughts thus far before I jump in and try for the other endings.
I've been playing First Encounter Assault Recon, or F.E.A.R. to its friends, recently. And while its acronym-based title is mildly cringeworthy — look, it must be scary, it's called F.E.A.R.! — what I've discovered is that it's actually a rather magnificent game that I'm sorry I haven't got around to sooner.
I've been replaying Gabriel Knight: Sins of the Fathers recently. I've been meaning to do this for some time now and have in fact restarted it several times, but never got around to finishing it for various reasons. This time is "the charm", though, and I intend on running through the whole series — I can't remember much about The Beast Within (except, bizarrely, for the puzzle solution "Thomas? Thomas? Herr Doktor Klingmann here. Show our wolves to Mr. Knight.") and I've never finished Blood of the Sacred, Blood of the Damned. Perhaps more impressively, I've managed to survive this long without having the latter spoiled at all, though I do know it ends on an apparently-infuriating cliffhanger that will likely never be resolved. Oh well.
Mark and I played a bunch of a recently-released indie game today. That game is Coffee Stain Studios'
You know what, though? I've played a good 4 or 5 hours of Sanctum 2 today in total, and it's great. It isn't the original game, no, but why would you want it to be? Sanctum is still available for download, so if you like that, go play that. Sanctum 2 is a distinctive experience that, while in possession of a couple of strange design decisions, is a lot of fun to play both solo and cooperatively with other people. It is both strategic and action-packed; challenging and fun; and it offers a significantly greater amount of content and depth than the original game did when it came out of the gates.
In short, Sanctum 2 is a very good game if you enjoy both first-person shooters and tower defense games that demand a slightly heavier degree of thought and strategy than normal. It's an excellent fusion of two fairly disparate game genres, and while there are a few things that could be tweaked here and there, it's perfectly enjoyable as it is. Not only that, Coffee Stain Studios have demonstrated that they are open to constructive feedback, too, and will likely continue to improve the game after its release. Given the abuse and vitriol that has been hurled their way today, they would be perfectly within their rights to just say "fuck you" to all the ungrateful gamers who are bitching about their new release, to be honest, so I have to admire them for their self-restraint in dealing with these people.
I've already talked about both
Both Long Live the Queen and Spirited Heart differ considerably, however, despite having fundamentally similar mechanics. Long Live the Queen sees you playing a predefined character — the titular Queen — and then sending her down the path of your choice, while Spirited Heart allows you a lot more freedom to design your own character and choose what your goals are, be they romancing a specific character or attempting to accomplish a mission set for you by your race's goddess. While neither of these games are particularly shiny or exciting to look at, I've found them surprisingly compelling, and they make me want to check out more games of a similar ilk.
One reason I've been enjoying them a lot is due to their similarity to an old favourite visual novel/dating sim known as True Love (above). I first played this back in probably 1999-2000 and still think of it very fondly today, despite the fact it is an absolute bugger to get running on modern machines. Like the life sims I've been playing recently, True Love saw you managing your time carefully in an attempt to build up your stats enough to attract one or more of the game's heroines and make her your "true love". I attribute my present-day love of games like the Persona series to my earlier experiences with True Love, and I'm getting a lot of the same feelings from titles like Long Live the Queen and Spirited Heart, too, which is nice.
Spirited Heart does a number of interesting things that distinguishes it from Long Live The Queen. Chief among these is the fact that you're not playing a fixed character — you're playing one of your own design, to a certain extent anyway. There isn't any option to customise your character's appearance, for example, but the way you play does determine what sort of person your character ends up as.
The way the game works is that each week, you choose whether your character goes to work or takes a week off. Going to work allows you to choose any occupations you meet the prerequisite stat requirements for, while resting allows you to restore your health and morale, which can often be negatively impacted both by going to work and through random events that occur. You can't go to work if you're too unhealthy or if your morale is too low, so sometimes you need to take a week off in order to progress. Working, meanwhile, often improves your stats and allows you to earn money, which can be used on more effective vacations when required.
Just to confuse matters, partway through the game, my character was visited by her Goddess and tasked with attaining a particular "title" by the time she reaches the age of 30. Unfortunately, pursuing the elf of her dreams and following the Goddess' quest are not really compatible, since the Goddess' quest requires me to become an Artist, while pursuing the elf requires me to continue working as her maid. CHOICES. DECISIONS. CONSEQUENCES.
A short while back, a few indie developers that I enjoy the work of very much released a bundle of games that looked interesting. Among this selection of games was a title known as Long Live the Queen by Hanako Games, developer of Magical Diary, a game which I enjoyed very much. I picked up the bundle and, as tends to happen frequently with this sort of thing, forgot all about it completely until recently.
Essentially, Long Live the Queen is a game somewhat akin to old Japanese games like Princess Maker, in that you have a young anime girl to take care of and must train her up to deal with various situations appropriately. The course which the game's plot takes depends on the skills which you choose to train up, and the skills which you can train most effectively are determined by Our Heroine's current mood — for example, if she's depressed, she's particularly wont to express herself through things like music and singing, whereas if she's angry, she can channel her aggression into training in things like military strategy and proper use of weapons. Training to particular levels in things unlocks various costumes appropriate to the skills she's learning — for example, learning a lot of spiritual skills unlocks a priestess outfit, while becoming a "Lumen" and awakening to her family's magical heritage unlocks a particularly awesome "magical girl" outfit.
Making it through the game without dying horribly is a case of carefully making decisions and levelling up skills appropriately, and it's not at all uncommon for Our Heroine to meet a sticky end — in fact, it's positively encouraged via the "collect them all!" death checklist in the game's main menu. It's almost preferable to play the game like a roguelike — starting from the beginning, only saving when you're stopping playing rather than before you make a critical decision, and dealing with the consequences of your actions. In a nice touch, reaching the end of a game — whether with Our Heroine's coronation as Queen or with her death — allows you to export a complete log file of everything that happened so you can perhaps figure out what on Earth went wrong.