Metaphor: ReFantazio Review - Everybody Wants To Rule The World
Metaphor: ReFantazio combines Atlus' skill in crafting emotionally charged RPGs with brilliant plot twists, a keen sense of adventure, and fantastical idealism to create one of its greatest games yet
When I was younger, I was told that there were two things a person should avoid discussing in polite conversation: religion and politics. Such topics were divisive, I was informed. Contentious. Even then, this policy bewildered me. Politics and religion are the lenses through which we view the world--our most powerful institutions--and we are expected to avoid talking about them? Impossible, I thought. Yet as I've grown older, I've encountered many who abide by this rule, and even more who pretend that they can't feel the flames even when the entire world is on fire. It's isolating, then, to feel consumed by the blaze. Lately it feels as if I'm made up of blistering anger, disappointment, and anxiety that borders on despair. I've struggled to find a balm for this ailment. And this makes it all the more surprising that I've found some relief in the form of a fantasy RPG.
Metaphor: ReFantazio is acutely aware of the role religion and politics play in society, and is more than willing to have conversations some would rather avoid. Furthermore, it is a game that understands the important role fiction plays in helping to establish our most fundamental beliefs, and it does not take that power lightly. Thus, the game begins with its narrator asking the player an important question: Do you believe that fantasy has the power to drive real change? Yes, my heart sang. Yet there was a part of me, cloaked in that aforementioned anxiety, that hesitated. Do art, fiction, and fantasy mean much in a world ravaged by bombs, inequality, injustice, and starvation? I wasn't so sure. By the game's end, however, I felt certain of my answer.
Metaphor: ReFantazio is a brilliant game packed with adventure, charming characters, heartfelt stories, and elevated versions of Atlus' signature gameplay, art, turn-based combat, and sprawling dungeons. It's also an extraordinarily earnest title that offers comfort to those who need it and asks players to have hope for tomorrow, the people around them, and themselves. By the time my 80 hours with Metaphor came to a close, I felt lighter--younger, too. Its themes and various stories were somehow restorative, and its set pieces brought me back to the RPGs I grew up playing--the ones that shaped me and made me long for companionship and grand adventures. Metaphor is Atlus at its strongest and most sincere. It's the type of game that reminds you of the idealist you were, the person you'd like to be, and how fantasy can shape reality.
Set in the Kingdom of Euchronia, Metaphor: ReFantazio follows a young boy whose initial mission--deliver a message to a contact in the north pertaining to the rightful-but-comatose prince--evolves into an epic journey. We discover early on that our protagonist was a close friend and confidant of the prince, and longs for nothing more than to see the idealistic young man take the throne following his father's suspicious death. However, the prince has been cursed, forcing him into a deep sleep until the handful of people who know he is alive can find a way to save him.
While the prince's slumber might be peaceful, his future kingdom is anything but. Giant monstrosities, cheekily referred to as Humans, roam about destroying villages a la Attack on Titan, while social issues turn neighbor against neighbor. Minutes after your character stumbles into Euchronia's capital, Grand Trad, he witnesses a series of hangings. On the ground next to him, a dog-like Paripus--one of the game's handful of tribes, or races--begs for money. We come to find out this race is often treated with extreme cruelty, making it hard for them to find honest work or even exist in the same cities as tribes viewed more favorably. This sort of prejudice is something the protagonist is familiar with, as he is an Elda, the most reviled of all tribes. In fact, the nation's religion claims his very presence is a bad omen. Yet despite his Eldan heritage, the protagonist ultimately decides to do the impossible: Enter the first-ever royal election to win the hearts of the nation's voters in order to secure the prince's throne and get close to those who cursed him.
The ensuing adventure is one I will never forget, filled with soaring highs, tender moments, devastating losses, and plot twists that, even if you can see them coming, present themselves in unexpected ways, creating a sense of anxiety that echoes what our heroes feel. When I spoke to Atlus developers earlier this year, they mentioned that they were focused on creating a sense of journey in Metaphor: ReFantazio. They accomplished this mission with gusto, as traversing the world in your hefty Gauntlet Runner--which acts both as your mode of transportation and home away from home--feels akin to taking a road trip with your close friends.
As you trek to new locations, plenty of events and options present themselves to you, ensuring that the game's simplistic traversal never feels dull or leaves you wishing you could operate the vehicle yourself. I never tired of sparring with Strohl, listening to Heismay share his laundry woes, or playing a game of chess with Hulkenberg, all of which level up your social stats as well. I adored the moments when Neuras--the Gauntlet Runner's driver and chief mechanic--would yell down the stairs that we needed to come see something. The party would then gather to look out at a captivating scene, whether it be the gut-wrenching ruins of a village razed by Humans or an ocean filled with neon fish that, somehow, hovered above the planet's surface.
Naturally, so much of the story's success comes from its beautifully crafted and well-voiced characters. I fell head-over-heels for the noble Strohl and couldn't help but smile as Hulkenberg, an often stoic and put-together knight, slurped down whatever local delicacy she could find at each city we visited as her friends looked on in horror. Heismay was a particularly impactful character, offering a tragic backstory and plenty of Uncle Iroh-style moments. In fact, there wasn't one of the game's six joining party members I didn't adore. And despite loathing the man, the game's major antagonist, Louis, is a mesmerizing villain, oozing with charisma, tact, and good looks. It's no wonder he is so beloved, feared, and such a powerful, suffocating force throughout the world. I also enjoyed how many of the major characters play somewhat unassuming roles at first, making themselves known to you briefly only to come back and play a much more important role down the road, adding a sense of life and progression to the game.
Atlus also made the decision to give Metaphor's protagonist a voice, something new for a studio that tends to favor the strong and silent type. The delivery of some of his lines adds so much personality and humor to the game that would otherwise be lost, elevating the entire experience and making me care substantially more about what would become of him on his journey to take the throne and save his best friend. In fact, the only complaint I can level in the character department is I wish there were more voice acting, as some social links--to my dismay--aren't fully voiced; it's a shame when both the characters and actors are so charming.
Still, their stories are brilliant vessels to deliver the game's major themes. While not particularly novel--fantasy and sci-fi have often acted as ways to discuss social issues somewhat removed from the context of our world--Metaphor: ReFantazio impressed me by placing emphasis on long-term collective action and compassion while also admitting that we will probably never know how to "get things right." It handles its topics and politics with maturity and precision, respecting the player's intelligence and avoiding falling into one of two dreaded camps: "everyone is right/respectable and the world is completely grey," and "there is a clear right and wrong and you are the savior who dictates what is what." It also doesn't shirk away from allowing real-world context to seep into the game, creating a sort of metanarrative that pops up in surprising ways, yet doesn't overstay its welcome or cheapen the experience.
These ideas are elevated through the side stories, often told through social links, which serve as more intimate explorations of grief, prejudice, vengeance, and forgiveness. In many of these narratives, we watch as a character tries to navigate living in a world that wronged them. How do you not give into fear or hatred? How do you go on living when your reason to is taken from you? How do you make the world a better place when a part of you wants nothing more than to burn it all down? Atlus has never been one to shy away from dark topics, yet somehow Metaphor: ReFantazio dives into more heart-wrenching territory than ever before while also retaining this well-suited sense of whimsical idealism throughout all of it.
This juxtaposition is perfectly reflected in the game's art and music, which pairs angelic choirs atop delicate orchestral pieces before transitioning into booming tracks that feature frantic chanting. There is something about the game's sound that, while still feeling ethereal and adventurous, conveys this feeling of religious fervor and fanaticism--a recurring theme throughout the story. It's dynamic and beautiful, while also being peculiar and suffocating.
Metaphor's art quickly separates itself from many Atlus titles by abandoning the studio's tendency to use a single color to convey the game's theme--an interesting choice considering the intense focus on the struggle between anxiety and hope, idealism and fanaticism. Rather than settle on a single color, Metaphor uses raspberry pink, teal, aquamarine, a saturated leafy green, and deep cornflower blue throughout its menus, with splatter effects, fades, and distortions adding a sense of anxiety and violence to colors that otherwise don't feel aggressive. And yet it works. Instead of one color being associated with the game itself, colors become motifs for certain characters, factions, and locations, creating a sense of variety and travel that the Persona series--which roots itself primarily in one location--doesn't quite get the chance to convey. Though I was originally worried that all these effects and the game's liberal use of texture--most noticeably, a sort of misty film grain can be seen in many scenes--could be distracting, I was a big fan of it in execution. All this texture, floating particles, and grain made the air feel thick--abundant in tension and magic.
It's also worth stating that Metaphor might be Atlus' most successful attempt at making its fully animated cutscenes blend into in-game cutscenes. Sure, there is a noticeable difference between the anime-inspired clips and what Metaphor's gameplay looks like, but by utilizing interesting camera angles and focusing on color harmony, the best of both worlds are brought front and center.
Metaphor's strategic use of these contrasting elements and themes keeps every moment interesting while its fantastic story steadily propels things forward. In fact, Metaphor might be the former-Persona team's most well-paced game to date. Though it uses several of the same systems as the Persona series (most notably its calendar, social links, and social stats systems), it all feels more intentional; your skill-building activities, social links, and various side quests carry more weight and are more grand in scale, eliminating that feeling that you are engaging with filler to pass time or are simply going through the motions to level up a particular skill. Additionally, every mission's end date felt like just the right amount of time to do everything, if you used your time wisely; I was neither pressed for time nor trying to find dull ways to kill it.
I am not by nature someone who longs to complete every side quest and bounty in a game, and never once have I aimed to fuse every persona in any of the Persona entries I've played. And yet, I was more than happy to do everything Metaphor offered, whether it be slaying monsters, embarking on a quest to retrieve a magical toothbrush, dungeon-crawling, or meticulously building out a character's Archetype tree. It helps that everything feels streamlined yet fully realized. Dungeons are interesting and intentionally laid out, with small puzzles making them more memorable than those found in the Persona series. There are fewer social links and, to my initial dismay, none of them truly offer romance. Ultimately, however, I grew to love this decision, as it results in the relationships feeling even stronger and less like a reward for saying the right things, further encouraging you to build them up and reap both the wisdom and benefits that come with their camaraderie.
Many of these benefits make themselves apparent in the Archetype system, which, contrary to initial concerns, feels nothing like Atlus' Persona system. Archetypes function more like jobs, permitting every character to grow proficient in any number of the game's 30 or so classes. Social links are closely tied to this system, as it is your companions who ultimately unlock new Archetypes and grant you the ability to select spells and abilities from one class to add to another. You can then build up your classes using magla, or MAG--a currency earned in various ways throughout the game, such as combat or socialization--to purchase new classes or already learned skills to give to another Archetype. It was so satisfying to have an extraordinary evasive Ninja who also could also hurl out black magic, or a tanky Knight with the ability to heal my entire team. I was also blown away by how brilliant this system is within the context of the game, drawing attention to how, at its core, Metaphor is a fairy tale that relies on these literary roles and established tropes to convey meaning. Leave it to Atlus to do a remarkable job at incorporating literature and Jungian psychology in subtle yet powerful ways.
The game's combat might be the best version of turn-based battles Atlus has ever created, offering flexibility while also asking for greater strategy than before. Combat uses turn counters, which hover like stars on the screen's top left corner. Critical hits and taking advantage of an enemy's weak point only use half a star, allowing you to hit an enemy up to eight times before it can turn its sights on you if you play your cards right. This comes in clutch, as clearing an encounter before an enemy can land a blow grants a substantial Unscathed Battle bonus. If you're like me and become obsessed with ensuring you come out untouched, you can quickly restart the battle with the touch of a button, allowing you to try out different strategies and experiment until you find an enemy's weakness.
Each party member can also pair up with another to unleash powerful Synergy abilities, which change not based on who you have in your party but what classes everyone is using--and being able to swap party members out for only half a turn counter means you can play around with these combinations in battle. These abilities generally use up two to three turn counters, but if you use them to hit a weakness, you have a way to deal massive damage while still keeping your turns. Enemies also operate using turn counters, but through experimentation you can find ways to use this to your advantage. It was incredibly satisfying watching the tough-as-nails Hulkenberg taunt an enemy and then take advantage of her massive chance to repel an attack to make an enemy lose all its turns.
I've always been a fan and defender of turn-based combat, even as it's slowly phased out in favor of action-driven combat. But even I can admit there are some faults with it, and grinding out enemies can be a real annoyance when you have to wait to both enter and exit a battle and feel forced to waste MP taking down smaller enemies when you know you have a boss lurking around the corner. Metaphor finds a remedy to all of these grievances in allowing you to also hack at enemies while roaming around a dungeon. Once you reach a set level, select enemies will possess a blue aura, which means you can take them down without ever entering battle and still attain experience, MAG, and gold from the encounter. Sneaking up on an elite monster--or dishing out enough swings to take them down before they land a hit on you--results in you starting each battle with major advantages. This makes a big difference, as some of the game's battles are absolutely grueling. Fortunately, you can adjust the game's difficulty at any time which I, admittedly, had to do to clear a few optional endgame bosses with absolutely devastating gimmicks and attacks.
Somehow, Metaphor: ReFantazio is even greater than the sum of its parts, yet each piece of the game is masterfully crafted. I found the whole experience transcendent and was impressed by how it felt both novel yet familiar--elevated and modern, yet so reminiscent to the fantasy RPGs I sunk countless hours into on my little grey PlayStation. But most importantly, it made me remember that we are lost without hope. It sounds silly and cliche, I know--sometimes it can be. It also certainly doesn't put out the fires set all over the world. But it reminded me that giving into despair and fear serves no one, myself included. It reminded me that fantasy and fiction have power--words and stories have power. They can inspire and comfort, and these things that are vital to preserving. And it reminded me that the proof of good in the world can be us, and that's a good start.
This story originally appeared on: GameSpot - Author:UK GAG
