2249: Catching Up on Deep Crimson

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My copy of Senran Kagura Estival Versus arrived the other day. I haven’t booted it up yet, because I realised that I was yet to play through its predecessor, the 3DS-based Senran Kagura 2: Deep Crimson. Since the Senran Kagura series is heavily narrative-based and subsequent installments often make reference to events in their predecessors — even between the “main” series on 3DS and the Versus subseries on Sony platforms — I didn’t want to jump into Estival Versus until I had, at the very least, beaten the main story of Deep Crimson.

I find the contrast between the 3DS and Sony incarnations of Senran Kagura to be quite interesting. The 3DS games, being the “canonical” storylines, for want of a better word, play like modernisations of 2.5D brawlers such as Streets of Rage, while the Sony games unfold with more of a sense of “3D”, feeling more like a blend between Dissidia Final Fantasy and Omega Force’s Warriors/Musou series. I’m torn as to which I prefer, to be honest; I’ve always had a major soft spot for 2.5D brawlers, and, upon firing up Senran Kagura Burst for the first time and discovering it was essentially a new Streets of Rage game, I was delighted. That said, the Versus series seems to be the one that tends to be more well-received, and I like the larger, extended cast that they incorporate.

I don’t have to pick a favourite, do I? No? Then I won’t. I love them all.

All right, Deep Crimson then. I’m coming up on the last missions of the game having blasted through the previous four chapters, and I’ve been really enjoying it so far. One thing that has developed considerably from Burst is the fact that each character feels very different to the others now. A lot of Burst could be got through by mashing the attack button and occasionally avoiding enemy attacks, though naturally you’d get more out of it — particularly in boss fights — if you learned some of the combos and when the characters’ special moves are especially effective. Deep Crimson, meanwhile, roundly punishes button-mashing, since there appears to be some sort of attack priority system going on, where hurling yourself at the front of an enemy while flailing wildly is a sure-fire way to get yourself defeated swiftly. Instead, mixing up light and strong attacks with air attacks, launches and special moves is essential; it feels much more like a “fighting game” than a button-mashing brawler, which is both enjoyable and rewarding. (Not that there’s anything wrong with a button-mashing brawler, of course; I still love me some Streets of Rage.)

Of particular note is the increased emphasis on special moves’ usefulness. I got through a lot of Burst and Shinovi Versus without making heavy use of these impressive, powerful moves, but Deep Crimson makes effective use of them a necessity. In a nice nod to series narrative continuity, all the girls start with their powered-up moves that they learned in the previous games, too, providing three distinct, situational moves to unleash at the appropriate time — and if you’ve wailed on your opponent enough to charge up your ninja scroll meter too, of course. There’s a nice mix between area-effect nukes, frontal cones, charge attacks and some outright bizarre abilities (Hibari’s “now I’m a giant and I’ma stomp on you!” move is particularly peculiar) that means learning how each character plays is essential; you can’t go in hitting buttons randomly and hope for the best, particularly in the tougher fights against stronger individual opponents or duos.

Narrative-wise, Deep Crimson raises the stakes significantly from Burst and even Shinovi Versus. Burst was, up until its final moments, heavily slice-of-life in nature, albeit slice-of-life with shinobi battles. There was a big, ridiculous final boss battle in its final chapter that teased where the series might go in the future, but then it ended. Shinovi Versus, meanwhile, again concentrated on the daily lives and backstories of the characters, but ended with an even bigger tease about the truth behind shinobi in the modern world: their mission to reveal and battle youma, hugely destructive evil creatures who demand blood sacrifices and generally fuck shit up.

After two games of us only ever seeing one youma though — Burst’s final boss Orochi, whom you fight both on the inside and the outside depending on which of the two main narrative paths you follow — I was beginning to wonder if youma were going to be one of those threats that was always mentioned in hushed whispers but never actually seen. I thought it would be disappointing if we didn’t get to fight some big slobbering monsters, though, because although it’s fun to see some shinobi-on-shinobi action, some big slobbering monsters would mix things up nicely.

Deep Crimson is well aware that I probably wasn’t the only person feeling like this, and opens with a retelling of Burst’s final moments, and then only continues to escalate from there. It tells an interesting tale that delves further into the overall series mythology — particularly the role of the high-ranking ninjas and of Kagura, a mysterious young girl who shows up and appears to be destined to fight youma.

The particularly interesting thing about the narrative is how it plays with the concepts of good and evil. This is always something that Senran Kagura has been particularly good at, with the majority of both Burst and Shinovi Versus exploring the nature of what “good” and “evil” shinobi really mean, and how people can find ways to build bridges across the frothing waters of conflicting ideologies. With Deep Crimson, though, the Hanzou girls — canonically the “good guys” — find themselves confronted with an order that they’re not sure is really the right thing to do. Meanwhile, Homura’s Crimson Squad, the former Hebijo Academy students and the characters originally positioned as the “bad guys”, are placed in the position of doing what you’d traditionally expect the heroes of the piece to be doing.

The other thing that’s interesting — and the thing I love the most about Senran Kagura as a whole — is how it juxtaposes the heavy, violent and often philosophical shinobi drama with the breezy silliness of a bunch of teenage girls trying to figure out who they are and what their place in the world is. Every single character in Senran Kagura is a well-defined, interesting person with a unique and worthwhile backstory, and they all get their own time in the limelight. Some characters — Homura is a particularly good example — undergo a huge amount of personal growth and development over the course of the series, and it’s been a real pleasure so far to watch these girls grow up, learn about themselves and their place in shinobi society.

This latter aspect in particular is what makes me so infuriated when people dismiss the series as “just boobs”. There’s some truly remarkable character and plot development going on in this series. Yes, there are big jiggly boobs; yes there are panty shots; yes, combat usually concludes with all the participants stripped down to their undies, but none of this takes away from the well-written, extremely well-characterised drama (and comedy!) that provides the context for the action. It truly is a series deserving of more credit than it gets, and as I close in on the end of Deep Crimson I find myself enormously excited to jump in to Estival Versus, whose core concept promises to tug at the heartstrings particularly strongly. But that’s a story for another day, of course.

“Just boobs” my arse.

1912: #WaifuWednesday (special guest: #BoobsNotBlood)

So Wednesday rolls around again, and as we established last week, that means it’s time for Waifu Wednesday.

Before that, a ~~short~~ hefty preamble, though, because it’s being discussed as something of a hot topic on the social media Interwebs at the very time I type this. I refer to the issue summarised under the Twitter hashtag #BoobsNotBlood, in which a number of people have begun pointing out the hypocrisy of popular media in being absolutely fine with graphic violence — the most recent example of which being the new Mortal Kombat game — but immediately shunning anything that has even the slightest hint of being sexual. (Unless, of course, it’s being used for advertising, in which case it’s fucking everywhere, no play on words intended.)

Mortal Kombat, to put things in context for those who are less familiar, is a series that has always prided itself on being graphic. Back on its original release, it was one of the first games to use digitised real actors as its sprites, and one of the first arcade fighting games to feature blood and gore splattering around the screen as the fight continued. Its most notorious feature, though, was the ability to perform a “Fatality” move on a defeated opponent — by entering a convoluted series of button inputs, you could kill your opponent in an assortment of overblown and violent ways, ranging from ripping out their heart to pulling out their spine. The latest Mortal Kombat continues this tradition, even going so far as to provide some of the most obnoxious microtransactions I’ve ever seen — the ability to buy tokens allowing you to perform these Fatality moves more easily without having to learn the button inputs. That’s a whole separate issue, though, that I’m sure we’ll talk about another time.

Anyway. I have absolutely no problem with Mortal Kombat, or indeed pretty much any violent game or piece of media. Violence has become so normalised in modern popular culture that, for the most part, people tend not to bat an eyelid at it any more. (There are exceptions; very realistic gore, torture and any form of depicting realistic violence against women still tends to make people uncomfortable at the very least.) That, in itself, is perhaps a concern for some people, but so long as you’re able to distinguish fantasy from reality — and pretty much everyone is, with the exception of people who already have some pretty severe mental disorders — it’s not a problem as such for your average adult human. (We could get into the whole “think of the children” thing here, but again, that’s probably an issue to tackle another day; I’m primarily concerned with people old enough to make their own decisions here.)

So violence is, for the most part, A-OK in the eyes of popular culture in the West. Sexuality, though, is a big no-no. And this is where the primary resistance to modern Japanese games tends to come from: because the otaku market in Japan — who enjoy fanservice and sexualised content — is a sizeable one with disposable income to throw around, that is the market that many anime and game creators choose to focus their attention on. And with good reason: you go where the money is. It’s the exact same reason we have so many annualised sports games and dudebro shooters here in the West: they sell.

You may not think that otaku games and dudebro shooters have much in common, but there’s one very important aspect in which they’re very much alike: people outside of their core demographic seem to wilfully misunderstand and misinterpret them, and then make a point of talking them down — in the process alienating the people who do like them — at every opportunity. I’ve been guilty of this myself over the years, but since throwing myself more into the things I love to the exclusion of things I didn’t like but explored because I felt I “had” to, I’ve become more content to simply live and let live: I’m never going to play, say, Halo 5 because it just doesn’t appeal, but I certainly don’t begrudge anyone who will enjoy it the experience of playing it.

A key difference, though, is that otaku games are a relatively small market in the West, while dudebro shooters make up the majority of the market. This is the complete inverse of the situation in Japan. The otaku games are seen as a minority, so they’re an easy target; I don’t know if their critics are simply trying to outright get rid of them altogether — I suspect there are at least a few people out there who wouldn’t mind if we never saw a doe-eyed moe girl ever again — and so it’s their controversial aspects — their sexuality — that tends to inflame the ire of critics who, generally, have absolutely no fucking idea what they’re talking about.

And yet, as Mr Matt Sainsbury of Digitally Downloaded said during a Twitter discussion yesterday, sex has been a crucial part of artistic expression since… well, forever. And yet the moment we see a flash of panties, a bit of cleavage, a provocative pose or a bit of dialogue about boob size, that seemingly invalidates the whole experience in the eyes of some critics. It’s painfully inconsistent and hypocritical to completely devalue an experience on the grounds of sexualised content when extreme violence passes without comment. (To clarify: I don’t have a problem with either, and believe that content creators are free to make whatever they like — or what they feel will be popular — without external pressure from people who speak from an ill-informed perspective.)

So with that in mind, let’s take a conspicuously sexy character for this week’s Waifu Wednesday.

This is Katsuragi from the Senran Kagura series. She’s a member of the Hanzou Academy, a school that trains “good shinobi” — ninjas who supposedly do work for the benefit of all, rather than individual self-interest.

Katsuragi is an interesting character in a number of ways. She’s arguably not the most explicitly sexual of the Senran Kagura girls — that honour probably goes to Haruka, who I’m sure we’ll talk about in the near future — but she is certainly one of those who is most comfortable with her own body, personality and sexuality.

This is an important and interesting point about most of the cast of Senran Kagura, actually; while the series is most widely renowned for its exaggerated jiggling boobs — indeed, the series creator has gone on record as unashamedly saying the reason the series exists at all is because he wanted to see pretty girls with jiggling boobs in 3D on the Nintendo 3DS — the girls aren’t simply well-stacked stick-figures, as sometimes seen in other anime-inspired work. Rather, in most official artwork — and indeed in the game, too — they’re depicted as having healthy curves and, in most cases, being happy with their bodies. (The couple of exceptions to this — Mirai and Ryoubi — have their dissatisfaction with their bodies explored as part of their own personal story arcs.)

Like most of the cast of Senran Kagura, it was not happy circumstances that drew Katsuragi to the Path of the Shinobi. I shan’t spoil her personal plot here, as it’s explored in more detail than I can give justice to in a few short paragraphs in both Senran Kagura Burst and Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus (and, presumably, the recently released Estival Versus, which is currently only available in Japanese). Suffice to say, though, Katsuragi has a fair amount of personal demons to take on, and a lot of sorrow to deal with.

She has two main means of dealing with these things: firstly, by acting as an “older sister” figure for many of the other group members, who recognise this and refer to her as “Katsu-nee”, “-nee” being a Japanese suffix to denote an older female sibling, but also often used in contexts like this where intimate personal relationships take on a “sister-like” quality. She is a character that her friends in Hanzou look up to and trust greatly, and often confide in.

Her second means of dealing with the emotional baggage she’s been dragging around with her is being a complete pervert, and it’s this aspect of her personality that is more obvious from the start. It’s also this aspect of her personality that cause many people to write her off as little more than a shallow, fanservicey character, but it goes much deeper than that.

Katsuragi’s perversions — particularly her habitual groping of her peers’ breasts — are a form of self-expression for her, and a reflection of the fact she has had to, to a certain degree, bring herself up without some of the normal “boundaries” set for youngsters. She herself refers to her behaviour as sekuhara (sexual harassment) and confesses in Shinovi Versus that she uses it as something of an icebreaker. Her peers don’t always see it the same way, of course — it’s a rather intimate invasion of personal space, after all — but as they — and the player — come to understand Katsuragi, it becomes more and more apparent that this exaggerated behaviour of hers is simply a front for how she’s really feeling inside; she maintains the facade of an energetic, enthusiastic, overly sexual young woman in order to avoid having to burden others with her own emotional turmoil; while others are happy to confide in her, she has some difficulty in being truly honest with them.

Katsuragi develops something of a rivalry with Hikage from Homura’s Crimson Squad. In many ways, Hikage is the polar opposite of Katsuragi, in that while Katsuragi is vibrant and, at first glance, extremely open about her feelings and passions — although as we’ve just talked about, the truth becomes apparent over time — Hikage is dour, emotionless and seemingly unable to enjoy anything. Katsuragi makes it her mission to try and get Hikage to “enjoy” a fight between the two of them, even though they are technically on “opposite” sides of the good/evil divide between shinobi. The two eventually strike up something of a friendship as a result; opposites, as they say, attract.

Katsuragi is an unashamedly sexual character who likes to show off — she explicitly says so when she performs her Ninja Transformation sequence in Shinovi Versus. Where critics tend to habitually misunderstand her — and the Senran Kagura series as a whole — is that this isn’t just there “for the sake of it”. It’s part of who she is, and that should be acknowledged — without shaming it — but, more importantly, it’s not the entirety of her being. She’s a complex, interesting character, and very much one of my favourites in the series, and that’s why I’ve devoted so many words to her today.

Thank you.

1765: Hours of Entertainment

One of the best things about the Japanese games I tend to play in preference to anything else is simultaneously one of the most frustrating things.

I’m referring to the question of game length.

In an age where the public are seemingly ever more likely to rate interactive entertainment in terms of a “money per hours” ratio — look at the drubbing Gone Home got from certain quarters who felt that $20 was too expensive for the 2-3 hours of gameplay it offered — it should be abundantly clear to anyone who plays them that Japanese games, for the most part, consistently offer the absolute best value in terms of bang for your buck on the market.

Take Senran Kagura Burst, for example, which I finally pummelled into submission and 100% completion over the weekend during downtime between activities. This is a game that is essentially a spiritual successor to the arcade brawlers of yore — games like Final Fight, Streets of Rage, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Asterix: The Arcade Game and The Simpsons Arcade Game, to name but a few favourites from my own youth.

Unlike those brawlers, however, which typically tended to be no more than four or five levels long — they needed to theoretically be completable on a single coin credit and in a single sitting, after all — it took me in excess of 50 hours to complete all the levels in Senran Kagura Burst, and there’s plenty more I could do after completing all the levels once: try for an A-rank on all of them; try and level up all the characters to 50; try and unlock all the characters’ “balance” modes through using them in different ways; try to complete all the levels in the challenging “Frantic” mode; try to beat all the bosses with special moves; and try to see all the bosses’ special moves without dying. Were I to tackle some of those additional challenges — and I’m not ruling out the possibility, as I enjoyed Senran Kagura Burst one hell of a lot — I’m sure that could easily put a significant number of extra hours on the clock.

Notably, though, a lot of this “extra” stuff is optional. You can romp through the main storyline of Senran Kagura Burst, ignoring all side missions and some of the clever things you can do with the characters, in probably about 10 hours or so, if that. (Most of that time will be reading the game’s lengthy visual novel sections, which are skippable after you’ve completed that mission at least once.) And in doing so, you’ll have had a satisfyingly complete experience from start to finish — particularly as the game’s structure effectively feels like you’re getting two (rather similar) games for the price of one thanks to the story unfolding from two different, parallel perspectives that meet up at various points.

The same is true for many other Japanese games, with RPGs being the clearest example. Your average Japanese RPG these days will take anywhere between 20 and 100 hours to clear first time through, assuming you don’t just plough straight through to the ending, and that you take on a bit of side content and spend a bit of time fine-tuning your characters. After that, though, you have a choice: set it aside, satisfied that you’ve seen the conclusion to the story, or continue playing in the hope of enjoying everything else the game has to offer — often referred to as “post-game”. Many modern RPGs also offer a “New Game Plus” mode, in which you can carry across certain things from your previous playthrough into a new run — the exact things you can carry across vary according to the game, but often include things like character levels, unlocked skills, equipment, secret areas uncovered and all manner of other goodies. This tends to turn you into a satisfyingly unstoppable powerhouse at the outset of your second playthrough as your buffed-up character cuts through enemies like butter, but is often necessary to take on some of the biggest challenges the game has to offer. Some games even withhold their toughest bosses and dungeons until post-game or New Game Plus, providing you with an incentive to continue playing even after the credits have rolled.

Even seemingly “short” Japanese games have a massive amount of longevity, too; take your average “bullet hell” shooter, for example, which typically follows the arcade machine structure of theoretically allowing someone to clear it on a single credit and in a single sitting. The true challenge of these games, however, comes from perfecting your game — achieving that single-credit clear (often known as a 1CC — 1 Credit Clear), beating your last high score, topping the worldwide leaderboards. The latter aspect in particular can become enormously competitive, and in the case of many shmups, requires you to fathom out an initially Byzantine-seeming scoring system in order to take maximum advantage of it.

And this isn’t even getting into the truly, directly competitive titles such as fighting games, which have potentially limitless replayability if you’re actually any good at them. (I am not, so I tend to play through the story mode, if there is one, and then be done, perhaps with an occasional two-player local match with friends if they’re up for it.) Or driving games with ongoing online competition. Or all manner of other joyful experiences.

I’m not saying Western games don’t offer any of this longevity — anyone who’s super-into Call of Duty’s multiplayer mode is doubtless raising their hand and going “Um…” right now — but for my money, and particularly in the single-player space, Japanese games can’t be beaten for value in terms of how much entertainment you’ll get for your £40.

1757: Crimson Girls

After a while off, I’ve been revisiting Senran Kagura Burst on the 3DS. I played through the Hanzou storyline to refresh my memory, and I’m currently just starting the third chapter of the Hebijou side. And I’m reminded of just how excellent this game genuinely is.

The Hanzou side of the story, which focused on the life and times of a group of female classmates in the Hanzou academy for “good” ninjas, was a lot of enjoyable fun, helping to make the already visually distinctive characters into interesting individuals that the player would want to find out more about. There’s the leader of the group Asuka, who gradually grows in confidence and assertiveness as the story progresses; class rep Ikaruga, who is initially portrayed as the more “motherly”, sensible figure of the group, but gradually steps aside as Asuka grows in strength; Katsuragi, who is very much the “older sister” of the group — and a character unabashedly comfortable with both her own body and her seemingly somewhat fluid sexuality; Hibari, who is immature and filled with self-doubt until she goes on a significant personal journey — an important part of the overall plot; and Yagyuu, whose quiet, understated love for Hibari is extremely touching to see.

Over the course of the Hanzou story, the girls encounter the girls of the Hebijou “evil” school for ninjas on several occasions, culminating in a final conflict against them at the conclusion of the story. Initially set up to be complete antagonists for one another, the final chapters of the Hanzou storyline take steps to humanise the Hebijou, showing both the player and the Hanzou girls that despite being on “opposite” sides, it’s possible to find common ground and be friends.

This theme is explored in greater detail in Hebijou’s own story. A key concept when considering Hebijou is the idea that the concept of “good” is selective and has stringent criteria to be accepted, while the darkness of “evil” will accept anyone. Consequently, a significant part of the Hebijou story that I’ve played so far centres around a disparate group of girls from wildly different backgrounds — most of whom have some sort of difficulty or tragedy in their past that they’re trying to escape — coming together and finding this common ground; this reason to work together, even though they’re “evil”.

In fact, throughout the Hebijou storyline, it’s easy to forget that these girls are supposed to be “evil” at all, and that’s entirely the point the game as a whole is making: regardless of what “side” you’re on, it’s important to surround yourself with people that you trust and love. People that are true friends; people that can help you through your problems; people that, in some cases, know you better than you know yourself.

Hebijou’s cast are an interesting bunch — perhaps even more so than the Hanzou girls. Leader-type Homura — a rough analogue to Hanzou’s Asuka — is a girl of relatively few words who is good at being serious but tends to try way too hard when attempting to be “fun”. Hikage, meanwhile, is a mysterious young woman who claims to have no emotions — so, as you might expect, cue plenty of scenes with the other girls trying to make her feel things. Mirai, on the other hand, is a young, painfully insecure girl who believes herself to be inferior both physically and in terms of ability to her peers. Next is Yomi, who uses the mannerisms of a privileged rich girl, but actually grew up in poverty, tends to have little to no money even now and who refuses all but the most very basic of charity. And finally Haruka, who is one of the most overtly sexual characters I think I’ve come across in any game in recent memory, aptly demonstrates that being “sexy” doesn’t necessarily mean you have to sacrifice the elements of your personality that make you into a normal human being. You can embrace your sexuality and your own particular tastes without letting them define you, in other words.

I’ve been really enjoying the Hebijou story so far and I’m looking forward to seeing how it develops. Rather than simply presenting the events of the Hanzou side from an alternative perspective, it’s an enjoyably distinct story in its own right, and, like its Hanzou counterpart, gives us an enormous amount of insight into some of the most well-defined characters I’ve come across in recent memory. I’m glad there’s plenty more adventures of the Senran Kagura girls to come in future — in the immediate future, there’s Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus for Vita, Senran Kagura 2 for 3DS and rhythm game spinoff Senran Kagura Bon Appetit. And you can bet your life and hometown I’ll be playing them all.

1617: Uninformed Hate

This photo of a copy of the UK’s Official Nintendo Magazine did the rounds earlier.

Take a look at the small preview for Senran Kagura 2 in the middle. Now imagine that you work for Xseed Games, the company that did an excellent job on the localisation of Senran Kagura Burst for 3DS a while back, and that looks likely to bring Senran Kagura 2 to Western audiences in the near future.

Well, you don’t have to imagine; Xseed’s outspoken Production Coordinator Brittany “Hatsuu” Avery had a few choice words to say on the subject:

https://twitter.com/Hatsuu/statuses/480921145445609472

https://twitter.com/Hatsuu/status/480921515215437824

https://twitter.com/Hatsuu/status/480922219652972544

(Yes, it was; here’s the piece in question, itself a needlessly inflammatory and ill-informed rant.)

https://twitter.com/Hatsuu/status/480923786846289920

https://twitter.com/Hatsuu/status/480923975682252802

https://twitter.com/Hatsuu/status/481109395963936768

https://twitter.com/Hatsuu/status/481110060555575296

Senran Kagura, lest you’re unfamiliar, is a series of games that centre around the exploits of some rival schools that train ninjas. In the first game, released as Senran Kagura Burst in the West, the story followed both the “good” ninjas and their rivals at the “evil” ninja academy, in the process delving into the personalities and histories of characters in a far deeper manner than many other games. The all-female cast is made up of distinct characters, none of whom are downtrodden or defined by the way men have treated them in the past, as some Western critics have complained of games as a whole recently. The story itself sees these characters grow, develop and change, and by the end you have a very good idea of who these girls are, how they relate to one another and their place in the world.

Senran Kagura is also somewhat notorious for its costume damage system, that can leave player characters and bosses alike battling in increasingly tattered (and revealing) clothing as their fights progress. There’s also a magical girl-esque “transformation” system whereby the girls can unleash their full hidden ninja skills by stripping down to their swimsuits, then magically re-robing themselves in a new costume. The transformation sequences are cheeky and sexy — unashamedly so — but the girls are, throughout the whole game, depicted as individuals who are firmly in control of the way they choose to present themselves to the world. As anyone who has played and enjoyed Senran Kagura will tell you, there isn’t a single piece of maliciousness in the game towards the characters; it simply revels in its sexy elements, and is rather refreshing as a result.

Now, as Avery says in her tweets above, people are free to dislike Senran Kagura for whatever reasons they like. But the Official Nintendo Magazine preview — and the editorial linked above — come across as not only needlessly spiteful, but also completely ill-informed. It focuses entirely on the fanservice element of the game — one of the most visible aspects, sure, and one deliberately played up in some of the game’s marketing — and completely ignores the rest, writing off the enormously fun Streets of Rage-style brawling as “there’s also some fighting and we guess we should mention that.”

This is a problem — regardless of the intention with which the piece was written, whether it was intended to be “satirical”, as some people have argued, or not — and not just for fans of Senran Kagura and its ilk. Writers for publications are tastemakers, and are in positions of power to dictate what their audience’s opinions might veer towards. This is a simplification of how things actually work, of course — there are usually a lot more steps in the flow rather than a straightforward “hypodermic” model — but the fact remains that people who write things for high-profile publications have a lot of influence on how certain things are perceived. And when pieces like this get published, they cement popular perceptions — even if those perceptions are unfair or wrong.

Because ultimately Senran Kagura is pretty tame, when it comes down to it. As Avery writes on her personal blog in response to a fan question, Senran Kagura Burst was only rated “T for Teen” by the ESRB in America because there’s really nothing in there that warrants a Mature 17+ rating. To suggest that having pretty girls with large breasts in a game makes it somehow unsuitable for younger players is to be exceedingly prudish — not to mention the fact that the game takes considerable care to depict all these characters as far more than simply large-breasted women.

Why are these popular perceptions a problem? Because they stop people from discovering cool games. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve seen people dismiss colourful Japanese titles as being “creepy” or “for paedos” simply due to their aesthetic, when in many cases these games address many of the most common things that people complain about in the games industry today. Not enough female protagonists in games? May I point you to Hyperdimension Neptunia, Atelier, Tales of Xillia and numerous other Japanese games with fantastically memorable female leads? Too much brown, grey and dark blue? May I point you to the vibrant, bright colours of most modern Japanese role-playing games? Juvenile attempts at being “mature” ultimately boiling down to people saying “fuck” a lot and being able to peep in on people having sex? May I point you to the Ar Tonelico series, which features some of the most in-depth explorations of characters’ personalities — including respectful treatments of their dark sides and sexual fantasies — that I’ve ever seen? Or if that doesn’t appeal, may I point you to the piece that prompted this post in the first place, Senran Kagura Burst?

Fun fact: I reviewed the wonderful Atelier Rorona Plus this week. I was the only one who volunteered to do so. In the email thread discussing who wanted to take it on, one reason for turning it down included the fact that one person had looked at Google Image Search and it “didn’t take long to find the creepiness”. Atelier Rorona, for those who don’t know, is one of the most charming, sweet and overwhelmingly nice games you’ll ever play — it’s not a fanservicey game by any means, yet the perception from someone who doesn’t know about it is that there’s “creepiness” involved. That’s what we’re dealing with. That’s where these ill-informed rants by people who don’t know what they’re talking about lead to. That’s why the games press could really do with specialist writers… and that’s why I’m pissed off that I, someone who could more than ably step into that specialist role — and indeed have been doing so up until now — am shortly to be out on my ear.

Thankfully for people like Avery and companies like Xseed doing their best to bring niche titles to the West, there are plenty of people out there — fans — who do treat these games with the respect they deserve. It’s just a shame so few of them are part of the professional games press in 2014.

Humour or not, I’m extremely disappointed in the UK Official Nintendo Magazine for the pieces mentioned above, but at least ignorance like that won’t stop me from enjoying the games I enjoy. The frustrating thing, however, is that pieces like those mentioned above make it considerably more difficult to attract new people to these games; stigma is a powerful thing, and it’s tragic to see it applied unnecessarily.

1526: Skirting Shadows

I “finished” Senran Kagura Burst last night. Well, more accurately, I finished Senran Kagura: Skirting Shadows, also known as the Hanzou Academy side of the game’s two-part story. On that side of things, there’s still a bunch of bonus levels to complete, plus attempting to A-Rank everything and complete everything in Frantic mode, and then there’s the same for the Hebijo girls, too, so optimistically I should be looking at at least 40 hours of gameplay in total. Not bad at all.

I’ve really enjoyed what I’ve played so far, and I’m a particular fan of how well the package as a whole caters to different play styles. If you have a few minutes, you can pick up and play a level or two without worrying about plot; each level takes no more than a minute or two to play, and is a lot of fun, particularly with how different all the characters play from one another. If you have a longer period of time available, however, you can play through the story levels you haven’t touched (with accompanying, lengthy visual novel sequences), or concentrate on trying to perfect a particular level for an A Rank, or levelling up a favourite character until you have her best moves.

I was impressed with the story, which was enjoyably mundane throughout despite being about two clans of warring ninjas. The most interesting moments were the ones where the characters were just hanging out eating sushi or chatting among themselves; the most meaningful moments as the “good” shinobi of the Hanzou Academy come to realise that their “evil” counterparts from Hebijo perhaps aren’t as different from them as they all once thought.

Perhaps most notable, though, and I’m aware I’ve touched on this before, is the fact that throughout the story, the characters are treated with the utmost respect by the scenario writers. The game may be notorious for its gelatinous breasts and panty shots and it may be true that beating the story allows you to blow into the 3DS microphone in an attempt to peek up the girls’ skirts, but as characters, Asuka, Katsuragi, Ikaruga, Yagyuu and Hibari are well-defined individuals, each in possession of a decent character arc (particularly so in the case of Hibari) and each designed to “feel” very much like a real person. There’s a few recognisable tropes in there — Ikaruga’s class president and Katsuragi’s perverted older sister nature spring immediately to mind — but the game is set up in such a way that they all feel like much more than just eye candy or pure fanservice. I have no doubt that the Hebijo story path will be much the same when I come to it.

I’m looking forward to the possibility of the other games in the series making it to Western territories, and very much hope that they do. There’s a strong cast of loveable characters here, and it would be great to see them explored further. Whether or not that happens will presumably depend on sales of the first, but the fact that Xseed localised it in the first place (and Marvelous AQL Europe brought it to Europe in physical format) gives me a considerable degree of hope. As “niche interest” as games like Senran Kagura Burst are, they fulfil an important role in the industry and give people like me that pleasant feeling of “yes, this is a game for me” rather than the dumbed-down, lowest-common-denominator nature of a lot of mainstream titles.

Now I’m feeling a bit shitty (yes, still) so I’m off to bed to snuggle up with the ample bosoms of Hanzou Academy, and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me!

1517: The Misunderstood Fan

It can be a trying task being a fan of something at times. And by “fan” I don’t mean “rabid, frothing fanboy/fanmadam” (thanks NISA); I mean simply someone who has a particular preference for something, and who will, in many cases, indulge in that thing to the exclusion of other, perhaps more “mainstream” things.

Since pretty much “coming out” as a fan of visual novels, anime and associated goodness around the time Katawa Shoujo was released, I’ve run into this issue a number of times. In the case of Japanese entertainment, the cultural rift between East and West means that some people are less than understanding about certain aspects of what our friends in the East produce.

And perhaps that’s understandable in some cases; even as a fan of a broad spectrum of Japanese entertainment, I’ll happily admit that there’s plenty of content — primarily around the area where sex and violence cross over — that makes me uncomfortable, and so I deliberately choose not to expose myself to that sort of thing. (“Discovering” Urotsukidoji in my teens was quite enough, thanks.) It exists, though, and I can deal with that; it’s simply something I choose not to engage with. (I also don’t believe for a second that it’s actually harmful — to believe as such is to show an alarming lack of faith in humanity’s ability to distinguish between fact and fiction, and a similarly alarming willingness to believe that everyone is stupid enough to just want to emulate everything they see. Sometimes fantasy is just fantasy.)

The trouble comes when people start to assume the worst about an entire culture’s output based on some of its more questionable or discomfort-provoking aspects, or even, in some cases, based on things they just think they know — the “lol Japan” approach.

Let’s take the recently released Senran Kagura as an example. Here we have a game that explores and respects its characters in great detail — going so far as to give each and every one of them their moment in the spotlight in lengthy, well-written visual novel sequences — that also happens to feature characters with big jiggly boobs who occasionally flash their pantsu. Are the jiggly boobs and pantsu necessary? Of course they’re not, but they don’t detract from all the other good stuff that the game is doing — and frankly, what is there to be ashamed of there, anyway? Senran Kagura’s cast is depicted to be a bunch of strong, independent young women who are more than capable of taking care of themselves and who are, above all, confident and comfortable in who they are and what they look like. (Those who have played it will know that the possible exception to this rule is Hibari, but her own character arc revolves around her coming to terms with her own inferiority complex; the end result is her accepting herself, flaws and all, and recognising that she doesn’t have to go it alone.)

Admirable traits, I’m sure you’ll agree, and so what does commentary about the game focus on? You guessed it; the jiggly boobs and the pantsu. And the aggression with which these criticisms are delivered is astonishing — take this outstandingly vitriolic takedown of the game that appeared not on someone’s personal blog, but on the official Nintendo magazine’s website. Or take the comments that habitually appear on any article about the game, which usually involve accusations of those who enjoy the game being “perverts” or, in more extreme cases “paedophiles”. It’s gross and disgusting, and it makes my heart sink any time I see it. And there’s no point trying to argue your case against these people; they’re people who have made their minds up about something, and have no interest in changing it.

For what it’s worth, I’m firmly of the belief that there’s not actually anything wrong with enjoying the fanservicey aspects of titles like Senran Kagura and its ilk; acknowledging your own sexuality is a healthy thing to do, and finding something that isn’t real attractive does not necessarily say anything about your attitudes towards a real-world equivalent. Indeed, I’ll happily admit to having been attracted to some Japanese titles purely by the fanservice aspect, whether it’s video games or anime; in pretty much every single case, I’ve been pleasantly surprised to discover that beneath the often in-your-face sexuality of some works, there beats a heart of gold; in many cases, I’ve even discovered that the fanservice aspect is a lot “tamer” than a lot of people tend to make out, and the whole point of it is actually to tell an interesting story with some loveable and, yes, attractive characters. (There’s also some stuff that purely exists to be sexy, and that, too, is both fine and can be enjoyable.)

Here’s the thing: I, like, I’d wager, pretty much anyone else who enjoys anime and other Japanese forms of entertainment, am capable of distinguishing between fantasy and reality — and anime-themed entertainment is so obviously fantasy that I find it very difficult to take the more vitriolic criticisms of it seriously, particularly when they’re delivered with such furious anger that it often becomes clear that the one raging has very little actual experience with the work in question beyond the most superficial knowledge — see that Official Nintendo Magazine piece.

I often find myself wondering if fans of other niche interests find themselves subject to similar scorn. Is one of my dearest friends, who is such a fan of heavy machinery (whether military or agricultural) that he describes his reaction to various hulking metal beasts in terms of how “tumescent” they make him, likewise a “pervert” for talking about things in this way? Of course not. Whether or not they really do make him tumescent is neither here nor there, and is nothing but his own business; his own personal interest in such things is something that is important to him, something that I respect and something that, on several occasions, has in fact led me to checking out things that I otherwise never would have explored for myself at all. An ultimately positive experience, in other words.

It’s a pity that not everyone feels they can be open-minded about things not immediately familiar to them, and instead jump to conclusions without bothering to investigate them for themselves. It happens in all aspects of society, not just the ultimately not-all-that-important really fandoms of various forms of entertainment, and it sucks every time it comes up, particularly when I see it upsetting people I know and like. (Or when it upsets me which, I won’t lie, it has done on a number of occasions.)

Live and let live. And perhaps, just once, ask your friend what it is about [x] that they like so much. Be willing to take a look for yourself and reconsider your opinion.

And if you still don’t like it? Don’t be an ass to people who do.

1510: Hidden Ninpo

Been playing a bunch more Senran Kagura Burst over the last few days, and the more I play, the more I like it.

This is partly because of the interesting, well-told story that actually bothers to explore its characters in some degree of depth thanks to some lengthy visual novel sequences, but that’s not what I wanted to talk about today. No, instead, today I wanted to talk a little about how what initially appears to be a simple, straightforward brawler grows more and more interesting to play as you progress.

Senran Kagura Burst gives you five playable characters on each of the two “sides” of the story, plus some secret characters, I believe — haven’t unlocked them yet, but there’s a conspicuous question mark on the character select screen. Initially, these characters all have their own distinct characteristics — from the Hanzou path, Asuka has speedy attacks, Ikaruga has a long reach, Yagyuu hits hard, Katsuragi fights without weapons and Hibari hits lots of times — but they all “handle” fairly similarly. In other words, at the outset of the game you can pretty much button mash and get some good results.

Thanks to an RPG-style levelling system, however, the characters evolve as you play them in several ways. At various level boundaries, they unlock new “arts”, usually in the form of extending their usual combos, but as you play levels in one of two modes — Yang, which is “normal”, for want of a better term, and Yin (or “Frantic”), which sees the girls stripping off all their clothes (and defense) in exchange for a massive damage boost — you build up power in your Yang and Yin stats. Separately from your experience level, you unlock new Yin and Yang abilities as these statistics build up, until eventually fighting in Yin and Yang are as different as… well, you know. Playing a level in Yang sees you chaining together massive combos and getting ridiculous hit counts — potentially well into the thousands if you’re good at chaining knockouts together — while playing in Yin sees you steaming through, obliterating everything in your path. I finished the first boss level in the game in two seconds earlier thanks to a level 30 Asuka with a fully buffed up Yin stat.

The game doesn’t start with these two “modes” feeling different, however; no, it takes some time until the differences start to take effect — initially the only difference is in what the girls are wearing as you fight. But as you gain levels and increase the Yin and Yang stats, more and more depth is gradually added to the game until you’re playing something a lot more technical and interesting than what initially appeared to be a fun but fairly mindless button-basher.

This becomes particularly apparent as you work on several characters at once — the story often forces you to use specific characters the first time you take on a level, and so you’ll get some experience with all of them while undoubtedly finding favourites. Again, initially, all the characters feel very similar outside of their obvious differences in weaponry, but again, over time, they start to become more and more distinct. Asuka, for example, becomes a whirling death machine able to hit lots of enemies at the same time with a spinning attack, then launch them all into the air. Katsuragi, meanwhile, actually changes significantly from her low-level incarnation; rather than being able to launch enemies simply by hammering the Fast Attack button and unleashing a combo, Katsuragi begins requiring Heavy Attacks to be in the mix in order to successfully launch them. This forces you to play Katsuragi noticeably differently from the other characters — and I’m sure the others are different again, and I’ll come to discover their own quirks over time.

The pace at which all this happens is really good, too; you start getting additional techniques and new moves just as hammering “Y” repeatedly starts to get a little tiresome and you start wondering whether there’s anything more to it. It’s not long after that your rate of pressing the attack buttons slows down from the frantic pace it almost certainly begins at, and you start actually counting how many attacks you get in in order to use the moves you want to. In a funny way, it reminds me a bit of Bayonetta, which I still regard as the benchmark of 3D action games — there was never a moment in Bayonetta where I didn’t feel in control of the character, and that, likewise, gradually grew in complexity (and, consequently, in how rewarding it was to play) over time. Bayonetta is probably a superior game with more variety than Senran Kagura, but to get a similar vibe from it is testament to the latter’s satisfying brawling.

Anyway, if you’ve been hesitating over picking this up — perhaps you’re an American holding out for a possible physical release? — then, well, I’d strongly advise you to grab a copy if you enjoy a good brawler. And then help me bug Xseed to bring the Vita game to the West, too.

1504: Life and Hometown

As promised (well, suggested) I booted up Senran Kagura Burst for the first time last night, and I’ve felt a strong urge to keep going back over the course of today. The reason? It’s one hell of a lot of fun. Who’d have thought it?

The reason I like it so much is not, as you might conjecture, all the bouncing boobies (though I won’t lie, the various members of the main cast all push my buttons in various different ways — why deny it?) but rather the fact it plays like a modern-day brawler. Streets of Rage at turbo speed, if you will; the only thing that’s really missing to make it into a truly authentic arcade brawler is a cooperative two-player mode, which appears to be sadly lacking.

Still, this isn’t a massive omission on a handheld game, and particularly not when there’s seemingly so much to work your way through. There are two hefty stories to play through, each with five different playable characters, and when you’ve completed each level you can go back and replay it with any of the other characters in order to earn rankings and experience points for them. And then you can play it with each character in “Frenzy” mode, whereby they do 750% more damage but take considerably more damage on account of the fact that all their clothes have fallen off and they’re fighting in their swimsuits. In other words, you can play each level up to ten times altogether — five for each character normally, then again with each of them in Frenzy mode — and have an enjoyable experience each time.

Like the classic brawlers of yore, Senran Kagura’s controls are simple and straightforward, but can lead to satisfyingly ridiculous combos. Senran Kagura’s main contributions to the ridiculousness are the “Aerial Rave” skill, whereby landing a combo on enemies makes a green circle appear, and tapping the A button at this point launches them into the air for further punishment, and the Hidden Ninja Art attacks, each of which are themed around an animal and cause varying amounts of disaster for the enemies around or in front of you depending on which one you unleash.

There’s some lightweight RPG mechanics in there, too; completing levels earns you experience points, which levels the girls up, and new Hidden Ninja Arts become available every so often. Moreover, “Yin” and “Yang” bars build up depending on how many levels you’ve played in Normal or Frenzy mode, with various benefits (and potential shortcomings, particularly in the case of Yang) becoming available to you as these bars increase. It looks, then, as if the game will gradually grow in complexity as it progresses — though from the look of things, it will still remain pleasantly accessible.

I haven’t got that far into the game’s story yet — I’ve been having too much fun challenging the first few levels with all the characters — but so far the cast seems to be a loveable bunch, each with their own distinct personalities. Many of them are anime trope-tacular, of course, but I have no problem with this whatsoever; tropes become popular for a reason, after all — and I’m particularly intrigued to see how their personal stories unfold over the course of the game, as I know that those who particularly enjoy the series see the character development as a real highlight of the whole thing.

Further thoughts to follow, I’m sure; for now, I’m off to kick some Shinobi ass!