1962: Great Title Sequences (From My Living Memory)

Re-watching Star Trek: The Next Generation and Deep Space Nine recently has made me more conscious of something that had been on my mind for a while: the fact that TV doesn’t really seem to do lengthy credits sequences any more.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as in the case of Star Trek you’re sitting there for a good few minutes watching swirly space and Patrick Stewart as Capt. Jean-Luc Picard and Avery Brooks as Commander Sisko (still in season one at the moment) and, consequently, without a credits sequence the show itself has a few more minutes to play with. But does that few minutes really make a difference? Perhaps when the show is a short 20-minute affair, but when it’s 45 minutes or more there’s a strong argument for saying the writers should maybe look at where a few bits can be snipped.

But anyway. Whether or not credits sequences are a good thing isn’t really what I want to talk about today, since that would be a short discussion — yes, they are — but what I did want to talk about is the ones that have stuck in my head over the years. A good credits sequence is strongly iconic and does a good job of summing up what the show’s all about — either literally, by introducing characters, or sometimes in a more abstract sense by using representative imagery.

These are in no particular order. Given how I’m attempting to call them up from my living memory, they’ll probably in roughly chronological order, but I am making no promises. I’m simply going to provide them for your delectation, with a few words about why I like them, why they’re important to me or why I simply find them memorable.

Henry’s Cat

I hadn’t thought about Henry’s Cat for the longest time, but a brief Twitter discussion with the fine Mr Alex Connolly the other day reminded me of both its existence and its terrible but strongly iconic credits sequence.

I honestly don’t remember much about Henry’s Cat beyond the title sequence and the little bit of an episode I watched out of curiosity on YouTube the other day. But I do suspect it’s rather a product of its time, and not the sort of thing that kids are watching on TV these days.

Count Duckula

Whoever uploaded this gets bonus points for including the “Thames” logo at the beginning. Ahem. Anyway. Count Duckula was brilliant. And I’ve watched a few episodes recently and it’s still genuinely quite amusing thanks to some wonderful voice work and characterisation… not to mention its baffling premise of a vegetarian vampire duck voiced by David Jason.

Unlike Henry’s Cat, the Count Duckula theme and intro has stuck with me all these years. However, I did not know until two minutes ago when I looked at Wikipedia (to make sure it really was David Jason who voiced Duckula) that Count Duckula was actually a Danger Mouse spinoff series. TIL, and all that.

Star Trek: The Next Generation

You can’t really get more iconic that Star Trek when it comes to title sequences, and there’s really not much more that needs to be said about The Next Generation — aside, perhaps, from the fact that when you look at it, it’s actually rather basic. Once the credits themselves start rolling, it’s little more than text and the Enterprise occasionally hurling itself at the screen.

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

I didn’t like Deep Space Nine all that much when I was younger; its relatively “static” nature of being set on a space station rather than on an exploratory starship made it feel a bit more “boring” to the young me. Revisiting it recently has made me realise (or remember?) that it’s actually really rather good — and certainly a lot more consistent than The Next Generation was in its early seasons.

I like the theme very much. It’s one of those pieces of music that just sounds satisfying. What I did find interesting, though, was when they changed it very subtly starting in the fourth season:

It becomes faster, I think it’s in a different key, the orchestration is different and the accompaniment is less “bare”. It accurately reflects the show’s noticeable change in direction from the fourth season onwards, not to mention the changes in the cast: Commander Sisko becomes Captain Sisko, The Next Generation’s Worf joins the crew and Shit officially Starts Getting Real with regard to interstellar conflicts.

Friends

Friends was everywhere when I was a teenager, and I didn’t mind because I enjoyed it a whole lot. The credits sequence was simple and straightforward, accurately summing up each character with a selection of season-unique snippets of their most iconic moments. It was fun to try and identify which episode each of the snippets had come from… you know, if there wasn’t anything better to do.

Angel

Ah, Angel. Probably one of my favourite TV shows of all time, next to its companion piece Buffy the Vampire Slayer (which is also one of my favourite TV shows of all time, but whose credits sequence I never really rated all that much). Angel’s intro was great in that it reflected the dark, brooding nature of its title character, but it also allowed the show to pull off one of its best features: the unexpected and surprising fact that while it wasn’t afraid to deal with some seriously dark themes, it was very happy to poke fun at itself and show the silly side of the supernatural as well as the scary. The intro helped with this in that it set the expectation for a very “serious” and dark story, then in true Whedon fashion, it often subverted these expectations with the actual content of the episode.

Yuru Yuri

(This was the best video of the intro I could find that hadn’t been snagged by YouTube’s copyright laws. You’ll just have to deal with the Spanish subtitles.)

I love Yuru Yuri. It’s such a delightfully mundane and silly anime; very little actually happens in it, but by the end you have such a wonderful understanding of these loveable characters that it doesn’t matter that they haven’t done anything of note. The opening titles complement it perfectly, introducing the characters visually and setting the energetic, joyful tone for the rest of the show.

Love Live!

You’d hope a show about music would have a catchy theme tune, and Love Live! doesn’t disappoint. This video (which repeats several times; you’re not going mad) is from the first season and, like any good opening sequence, neatly summarises the show and its characters without them actually “saying” anything (although one could argue the lyrics of the song have a certain degree of meaning). Also it’s just plain catchy.

Akiba’s Trip

One thing I really like about Japanese games is that they treat them the same as anime — and that means that a big deal is made out of the opening credits, with music that is often released as a single in its own right. Akiba’s Trip had a particularly strong opening with a catchy theme song, a good introduction of all the characters and, again, a summary of what to expect from the next few hours of your life.

Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory

The Neptunia series has some excellent songs throughout, but the opening theme for third game Victory is one of the stronger ones. It does a great job of capturing the games’ energetic, joyful spirit and acknowledges their origins as a parody of the video games industry at large through heavy use of electronic effects and synthesised sounds. It also makes a point of demonstrating the extremely strong friendship between the core cast members — they may not see eye-to-eye about everything (or anything) but they stick together and help one another out.

Omega Quintet

Last one for now, otherwise I’ll be here all night and I quite want to go to bed. I wrote a few days ago about how I like the fact Omega Quintet treats its episodic story just like an anime series, complete with opening and ending credits sequences. Here’s the opening sequence, which you see not just at the beginning of the game, but at the start of every chapter. It’s as delightful as the game itself.

1426: Day of Rest

I have done absolutely nothing “useful” today, and instead spent most of the day playing Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory in an attempt to actually finish the bloody thing before the year is over.

Thankfully, it finally seems as if I am going to succeed, since I’ve successfully attained every single one of the trophies except the three that relate to the three endings. I’m on course to complete the “True” ending in this first playthrough, then I’ll race through and get the Normal and Good endings in subsequent playthroughs. If Victory is anything like its predecessor, the actual “game” side of things will end up being extremely short if you’re not doing any side content and skipping story scenes you’ve already seen. Despite this, however, I’ve somehow now spent over a hundred hours on this game — so I think I can definitely say I’ve got my money’s worth.

I’ll be sorry to see the back of it when I’m all done, to be honest, because the Neptunia cast, while tropetacular, is immensely lovable and has a wonderful chemistry between them. Mostly I’m impressed that they’ve managed to spin out what I imagine probably began as a bit of a joke — hey, let’s imagine the “console wars” as if they were actual wars between goddesses — for three games, with more on the horizon. Oh, and I’m slightly annoyed with myself that I accidentally put myself on the “true” ending path first, because my brain always prefers saving the “best” ending for last. Still, it’s too late now, plus the “true” ending is the only path where you get certain characters required to achieve some of the trophies, so it’s probably a good thing: I’m getting all the “grindy” stuff out of the way now so my subsequent two playthroughs can be straight runs to the two respective finish lines.

While I’ll be sorry to see the back of Neptune and the gang, it’ll also be nice to be able to play other stuff without guilt. Neptunia Victory has been on my shelf since April of this year, though my starting to play it was delayed by quite how much I ended up loving the Ar Tonelico series. I was then further delayed partway through by reviewing Time and Eternity — a game that I maintain is nowhere near as bad as a lot of people made out — and Tales of Xillia — which was utterly fantastic. Both of those were lengthy RPGs — 40 hours or so in Time and Eternity’s case, nearly 100 for Tales of Xillia and consequently something had to fall a little by the wayside in order to play them and be able to review them in a timely manner.

Next on the schedule once Victory is down for the count is the highly anticipated 3DS RPG Bravely Default, which isn’t out in America until February, so I’m going to get a head start on it ahead of reviewing it for USgamer. To be honest, I know absolutely nothing about Bravely Default save for the fact it’s by Square Enix, it’s a spiritual successor to Final Fantasy: The Four Heroes of Light (which I never played) and that it has distinctly Final Fantasy Tactics-esque art. Beyond that, I’m going in with complete beginner’s mind, which I find is often the best way to be, as it minimises the possibility of disappointment and maximises the possibility of pleasant surprises. We shall see, I guess; doubtless I’ll have a few thoughts to share on here ahead of the official review closer to the North American release date.

1420: Ploot-chan

I’ve mentioned Hyperdimension Neptunia and its two sequels numerous times on these pages, but I thought today I’d focus particularly on a character who appears for the first time in the third game, Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory.

Plutia — named, much like Neptune, after an abandoned Sega console; in this case, the unreleased second model of the Saturn — is Planeptune’s goddess (or “CPU”, in Neptunia parlance) in the alternate dimension Neptune finds herself dragged into towards the outset of the game. Much like Neptune, she’s largely incompetent at her job, prone to slacking off and being lazy, but it’s a different kind of incompetence to Neptune; while Neptune in her human form is an energetic, dizzy young girl, Plutia is rather slothful in many ways; she’s habitually clad in slippers and housecoat rather than something a little more appropriate for a goddess, and she speaks very, very slowly and deliberately (in Japanese, anyway) — like a child who doesn’t seem to have quite grasped communicating just yet.

Plutia’s seeming innocence extends to how she’s depicted in battle, too. Initiating a battle with Plutia will often see her exclaiming konnichiwa! (“hello!”) or yoroshiku onegaishimasu! (in this context, “nice to meet you!”) to the party of enemies, while her turn coming up in the order of action will see her mumbling eto… eto… doushiyou… (“umm… umm… what should I do?”) or e… watashi? (“eh? …me?”) as if she’s perpetually slightly unsure of what’s going on around her.

Plutia’s not innocent, though. Far from it. Much like Neptune’s personality (not to mention cup size) undergoes a significant change when she switches from human form to “HDD” goddess form, Plutia too goes through some changes. While Neptune is all business in HDD form, though, Plutia unleashes her inner desires and becomes a sadistic dominatrix (whom Neptune in particular takes to calling “Sadie”) and whom a number of the other characters become rather afraid of.

Plutia in HDD form is actually quite a refreshing character to come across, because she has absolutely no shame in who she is and what she likes. And what she likes more than anything is indulging her sadistic desires — whether that’s on her enemies or, in a pinch, her friends.

She’s overtly sexualised — arguably more so than most of the rest of the cast, most of whom would put your eye out if they turned around too quickly while in HDD form — but she uses this to her advantage on numerous occasions.

She knows that she scares and disturbs people with her sexuality, so often all it takes is a knowing comment that she’s “starting to get angry” to get people to do what she wants them to. This backfires on a few occasions — for example, her early encounter with a young alternate-dimension IF traumatises the latter to such a degree that one of the strongest, spunkiest characters in the other two Neptunia games is relegated considerably more often to the role of “cowering in the background” than she would be normally. A shame, since IF is one of my favourite characters, but the focus on the main cast in Victory certainly works for me, too.

Plutia’s sexual preferences are sometimes played for laughs, but more often than not they’re played relatively straight, with her castmates alternating between acknowledging her tastes and desires, and trying to hold her back from going too far. Anything… inappropriate that Plutia does is kept completely off-screen, but all that achieves is getting the imagination working even harder. Exactly what did she do to those people who, upon meeting her subsequently, are utterly terrified?

I have not yet finished Victory, though I am, after a long run, on the path to the “true” ending, I think. I’ll be interested to see if Plutia is explored any further in the rest of the game; up until now, she’s been rather refreshing to spend time with. Terrifying too, yes, but one of the more interesting characters I’ve seen in a candy-coloured moe RPG in recent memory.

1286: Take a Note, Nep-Nep

When was the last time you played a video game that required you to either 1) map it yourself or 2) make notes while playing? I’m willing to bet it’s quite a long time, unless you’ve either 1) been playing the Etrian Odyssey series or 2) been playing an old-school Sierra game.

I’ve been playing a much more recent game and making notes, however. The game isn’t demanding that I make notes, but I’m getting a strange sense of satisfaction from figuring the game out for myself rather than immediately reaching for the walkthroughs, as is the common approach these days.

The game in question is Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory, which I’m now 40 hours into and probably about halfway through the plot, I estimate. I could have raced through and finished by now, I’m sure, but there’s something about this game in particular — even more than the previous two Neptunia games, which I adored in all their flawed glory — that is making me want to take my time and soak everything up.

It’s a different kind of wanting to soak things up to something like Ar Tonelico, though. In the case of Gust’s oeuvre, I wanted to continue immersing myself in the world; spend more time with the characters; see every possible conclusion to that lengthy story that I’d been enjoying so much. With Victory, meanwhile, my enjoyment is coming from the game mechanics as much as the setting and characters.

The three Neptunia games have a fun setting and some immensely entertaining characters, you see, but I wouldn’t call the world especially “immersive”. The only real “exploring” you do is going into dungeons, and these are primarily designed for being 1) a place to fight monsters and 2) a place to harvest items for use in crafting and/or quests. There’s a lot of repeated content — some dungeons are just variations on the same map, a la Phantasy Star Online and Dragon Age II — and thus they’re best regarded as a backdrop for the more interesting stuff that’s going on with the game mechanics.

More so than any of the previous Neptunia games, Victory is a case of a number of individually simplistic systems and mechanics coming together to create something significantly more complicated and deeper than the sum of its parts would appear to create at first glance. Sure, you can play through Victory without exploring these aspects of it, and that’s a perfectly valid way to play. But since mk2 in particular, I’ve found the gameplay of this series so satisfying that I want to indulge myself in all its nuances as much as possible.

Let me explain what I’ve been doing and taking notes on this evening. In doing so, you’ll hopefully see how the different individual systems at play in Victory combine to make something that is a surprisingly deep experience.

Each dungeon in Victory has a bank of monsters you’ll encounter. Like mk2 and unlike the first game, you can see the monsters on the map and attack or avoid them as you desire, though a single monster figure on the field actually represents a party of enemies that might include other opponent types.

Each monster drops at least one item, most of which are “trash” items that don’t have any use by themselves. But most of these items are used either in crafting recipes — crafting an item once means that it’s then available for purchase in all of the game’s shops, so it’s something you need to do — or for completing quests. Already we have several overlapping systems here — exploring dungeons leads to combat, which leads to the acquisition of items, which can be sold, used in crafting recipes or traded in for quest rewards.

As well as tangible rewards, quests also manipulate the game’s “shares” mechanic that has been around since the first game. I haven’t studied the effects these shares have in great detail yet, but if it’s anything like the first two games, the characters associated with a particular nation will be powered up or down according to how high their shares are. In my experience, it’s not a huge increase or decrease, but I’ll need to analyse things more comprehensively to figure that out. In mk2 the shares values also determined which ending you got; I don’t think that’s the case in Victory but I could be wrong.

Now, here’s the twist on the usual “monsters drop shit” thing — partway through the game, you gain access to a mechanic called Scouting, whereby you can send several NPCs off to scout dungeons while you do other stuff. Depending on how much you pay them and their level of proficiency, they may come back with items, money or, more importantly, a report that something has changed in the dungeon they were scouting. This could be a change in the amount of credits monsters drop or the experience points they award, or it could be a shift in the harvestable items or the monsters wandering around the dungeon.

The latter two are significant, because they are the only means of acquiring some items that are, again, used for crafting or completing quests. Most dungeons have at least one optional boss monster, and it’s usually these that are manipulated through the Scout system. Normally, these optional bosses are referred to as “Dangerous”, which simply means they’re tougher than the other stuff in the dungeon and have their own cool battle theme. However, a Scout spotting a shift in the monster patterns may turn them to either a “Risky” monster, which drops chips that can be used to burn discs with specific characteristics, abilities and stat improvements on, or a “Tough” monster, which drops medals that can be traded in to acquire the actual discs required to make use of this mechanic.

Whether a “Dangerous” monster becomes “Risky” or “Tough” when a scout finds it — actually finding something at all is determined largely by chance, but is influenced by both how much you pay the scout and their own abilities — is decided by whether a “flag” item in a dungeon is standing or broken. If it’s standing and your scout spots a change in monster patterns, you’ll come across a “Tough” monster; if it’s broken, you’ll meet a “Risky” monster. These shifts in monster patterns only last for one in-game “day”, though, so if you’ve sent your scouts off to random places all over the world and they’ve all found new monsters, you’ll need to decide which ones to take on. It becomes necessary to think about where you send your Scouts and why, otherwise it’s a bit of a waste of time.

This “flag” system also determines which harvestable items become available when a scout spots a change in the items available in the dungeon.

Confused? I was initially, too, because the game doesn’t explain this in great detail, which I was initially a bit annoyed about. However, having sat down and actually taken some notes this evening on each dungeon — what the normal lineup of collectable items and monsters are, and the differences that successfully Scouting it has, both with the flag broken and standing — I now feel like I understand this game mechanic. It isn’t explained in great detail because it’s not something you need to use to finish the game. You’re told regularly by NPCs that you don’t need to do quests and you don’t need to use Scouts, but if you do, you’ll find more cool stuff.

I could, of course, have simply gone to GameFAQs and looked all this shit up myself. But there’s something inherently very satisfying about figuring out how it all works myself. It makes me feel like I’m really “beating” the game at what it’s doing — learning how to leverage its rules to my own advantage, rather than simply getting someone to tell me how to do it. It’s something I can see myself doing a lot more in the future, as I’m appreciating the game a great deal more as a result.

1256: V for Victory

Been playing a bit more Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory this evening. While the newest game is, as I mentioned a few days ago, more of an evolution from mk2 than the revolution that mk2 was over the original, I’m starting to notice some more pronounced differences — differences that make it abundantly clear Idea Factory and Compile Heart are both receptive to feedback and keen to iterate on their past work in order to make things better in subsequent installments.

Let’s take Victory’s battle system as an example. At first glance, it appears almost identical to mk2’s mechanics. On a single character’s turn, they can move within a set radius according to their Move stat (which tends to be improved from its per-character baseline value via equipment rather than increased through levelling up) and, if they can reach an enemy, they may attack it. Different weapons have different “threat” areas, meaning that some are designed for focusing on a single enemy, while others have long areas that can attack enemies in a line; others can “sweep” in a wide arc in front of the character. Usually, you can position yourself in such a way that it’s possible to hit two or more enemies at once for the most efficient combat. There are three different “types” of attack — Rush attacks hit more times, Power attacks are stronger (and often magical) and Break attacks have a stronger effect on the enemy’s “Guard Points” bar, which, when depleted, causes them to take more damage.

In these respects, the two battle systems are identical. But from hereon, they diverge somewhat. Today I am going to talk in detail about how they are different from one another. A good proportion of you will not find this in the slightest bit interesting, and I make absolutely no apologies whatsoever for that. I’m going to talk about it anyway.

In mk2, the amount of attacks a single character could perform in a turn was determined by their “AP” (Ability Points) value. Each attack they performed cost a set number of ability points to perform, and the character could continue attacking until they had run out. Alternatively, it was also possible to finish the combo early and “bank” some AP for the following turn — in order to perform some of the special moves, this was necessary, as the AP cost was more than the character’s baseline maximum AP in many cases. If a combo spent over a particular number of AP in a single turn, an “EX” move became possible, which tended to be more powerful, hit more times or have some sort of special effect.

In Victory, meanwhile, the AP system has been removed entirely, and each character’s combo in a turn may only ever consist of up to four moves. (At least, this is true at the early stage I’m at, anyway.) The big difference comes in how you assign the Rush, Power and Break moves to each character; rather than being able to assign any unlocked moves at will and being able to perform them if you had enough AP, Victory gives each move a “CP” (Combo Points) cost, and each character an allowance of CP that gradually increases as they level up. Early in the game, there are not enough CP available to fill all possible slots in the command list, meaning that you’re forced to think a bit more carefully about each character’s strengths and weaknesses when prioritising which moves they should have available.

This is a very simple and straightforward change to mk2’s system, but it works incredibly well. While I enjoyed fighting in mk2, there was relatively little to differentiate between a lot of the different characters, special moves aside. In Victory, meanwhile, it becomes possible (and indeed necessary) to specialise characters in each of the three types of attack, then make them work as a team to take down enemies. For example, my current party contains Plutia, who is weak at physical attacks (particularly Rushes) but has some strong elemental-infused Power attacks and is also very good at Break attacks; Neptune, who is a fairly well-rounded character I have focusing on Rush attacks; and Noire, who I have using some strong Power attacks.

With this configuration, I can have Plutia run in and wear down the enemy’s guard, then Neptune and Noire can step in for the kill. Noire does more damage with her power attacks; Neptune’s Rush attacks cause the “EX meter” to rise quicker. When said meter reaches particular boundaries, strong “EX Finisher” moves become available, allowing for slightly longer combos with special effects at the end. Later in the game, the EX meter can also be used to unleash extremely powerful special attacks, though doing so depletes it, unlike the Finisher moves.

Another big change comes in the SP (Skill Point) system. In mk2, SP, which were used to cast spells and/or allow the characters to transform into their more powerful “Hard Drive Divinity” forms, gradually charged up as the characters took and received damage. In Victory, they start a dungeon expedition with a full bar, which gradually depletes as special abilities are used. In this sense, it’s more like a traditional bank of magic points, which is arguably a little less creative but works somewhat better. The SP system of mk2 nerfed the Hard Drive Divinity feature significantly in that it was often only possible to remain transformed for a turn or two at a time, which didn’t seem quite in keeping with the supposedly awesome power of these “CPU” goddesses. In Victory, meanwhile, you can transform at the start of a fight and remain comfortably in HDD for quite some time — what you have to take into account here instead is managing your stock of SP over the course of the whole dungeon, rather than within the individual fight.

These few changes to Victory’s battle system help make a game that initially seems rather similar actually quite distinct from its predecessor, which is very much a good thing. The enemies have been buffed up somewhat, too, meaning that you have to work quite hard to defeat some of them, and many of them are more than capable of giving you a good smack in the face in return. I don’t remember getting a Game Over more than once or twice over the course of mk2; less than 10 hours into Victory and I’ve already had 4 or 5, and all of them have been my own stupid fault rather than the game being cheap. This is a good sign — while piss-easy combat has its appeal, it’s nice to have a bit of challenge now and then.

Anyway. Suffice to say I am enjoying Victory so far and have little doubt that I will spend an obscene amount of time on seeing everything it has to offer in the long term. I am, however, a bit put out that my favourite character IF doesn’t seem to be in this one very much! Oh well. You can’t have everything, and Plutia is kind of adorable in a dopey sort of way. Also, Noire still makes me weak at the knees. “I-it’s not like I’m lonely or anything…!”

1253: Nepgagaga the Third

As I mentioned yesterday, alongside Atelier Rorona, I’m also finally getting around to playing the third Hyperdimension Neptunia game, Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory.

For those who haven’t read my numerous enthusiastic rants on the previous entries in this much-berated series, allow me to get you up to speed.

The first Hyperdimension Neptunia was critically panned for numerous reasons, but I found myself enjoying it a huge amount despite its crap 3D graphics, repetitive gameplay and clunky mechanics. It established some immensely endearing characters, and it was largely this fact that encouraged me to check out the subsequent entry in the series.

Hyperdimension Neptunia mk2 was more of a reboot than a sequel, since it didn’t really acknowledge the first game existed. It was superior in almost every respect — better graphics (though the frame rate was still on the low side), an almost infinitely better battle system, more streamlined mechanics and massively better music — but kept the things that were good about the original game: the wry, self-referential sense of humour; the endearing, memorable characters; the amusing setting; the gorgeous 2D art. It was one of the few games I actively wanted to play all the way through and see every single bit of content it had to offer — including the surprisingly dark “conquest” ending that took a considerable amount of effort to unlock.

Now, I’m playing Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory, the third game in the series. This is more evolution from mk2 than the revolution that mk2 was over the original, but that’s fine; I loved mk2, so I’m happy to effectively play it again with a bunch of refinements. The adorably ditzy Neptune is back in the lead role this time around, after giving up the spotlight to her sister Nepgear in the previous game, and there’s been a strong focus on the rather tsundere girl who represents the PlayStation platform, Noire so far in what I’ve played. (This is absolutely fine by me, as I have a total crush on Noire.)

I’m still quite early in the new game so far, so I’m hesitant to comment on it too much. What I instead wanted to mention was an Extra Credits episode I watched earlier today, in which the different between game mechanics, the dynamics they create and the aesthetic reasons to play were explored. It got me thinking about the various JRPGs I’ve been playing recently, and how not all of them would appeal to everyone — even among JRPG fans.

Given the diversity of the games industry today, it’s very difficult and not particularly helpful to say that you’re a fan of a specific “genre” of games any more, because these genres exclusively describe game mechanics. “I like RPGs,” people will say, implying that they like games that involve hit points, statistics and equipment. And yet if I plonked Skyrim’s biggest fan down in front of Hyperdimension Neptunia mk2, they’d probably look at me in disgust, walk out then never speak to me ever again. (I’m seeing my friend Tim tomorrow night, who is possibly the biggest Skyrim fan in the world; I might try it. Though he probably won’t walk out of his own house in disgust.)

What we should actually start doing a little more is considering our tastes with regard to things like subject matter, mood and the aesthetics described in the Extra Credits piece. Hyperdimension Neptunia doesn’t appeal to me because it’s a JRPG — though I enjoy those mechanics and the related play aesthetics — it appeals to me because of its characters; because of its bright colours; because of its light-hearted nature and refusal to let you take it seriously. We’re talking about a series of games where one special attack allows you to summon Keiji Inafune in the form of a sword, then hit things with it; and another where a girl using an electric guitar as a weapon smacks an enemy into a giant microwave and then turns it on for massive damage. We’re talking about a series of games in which Sega, Sony, Nintendo and Microsoft’s gaming platforms are personified as a series of young girls who rather aptly embody many of their inspirations’ key characteristics.

Despite superficial similarities, I wouldn’t necessarily expect someone who enjoyed, say, Ar Tonelico to enjoy Hyperdimension Neptunia — though there may be some crossover. (I love both, for example!) Ar Tonelico has its light-hearted moments but, for the most part, takes itself reasonably seriously; Neptunia, meanwhile, is flippant and silly. Both are emotionally engaging but in completely different ways; Ar Tonelico is dramatic and affecting; Neptunia feels like hanging out with old friends.

Anyway, I’m looking forward to playing more of Neptunia V, particularly as the story seems to have some interesting, mind-bending twists this time around. It’s early days yet, but I’m already having a blast, and I anticipate spending a considerable amount of time on this game.