Editor’s Note: I have to admit I’m not a huge fan of the JRPG genre myself, but Sarah’s point about the Catch-22 developers face, especially when creating new IPs, is interesting. – Demian
Now is not a good time to be a developer of Japanese role-playing games. JRPGs face an increasingly bewildering double standard: If a game sticks too closely to the norms established by series like Final Fantasy, it’s labeled as derivative and uninspired. However, if a game ventures outside those boundaries, then it’s criticized for straying too far from what games like Final Fantasy have conditioned us to expect from “good” RPGs. So, even if you’re a reasonably established Japanese developer trying to create an original IP in the current console generation, you just can’t win. Case in point: Infinite Undiscovery.
My experience playing this game strongly reinforced the fact that game criticism, in its current incarnation, should largely be ignored. Or taken with a grain of salt, at least. A quick search of Metacritic or Gamerankings reveals that Infinite Undiscovery’s average review score is 68%. While the law of averages dictates that there are some positive reviews, the majority fell into the abyss of mediocrity. While I don’t trust individual scores too much, seeing a trend can be more telling. Since so many reviews labeled it as formulaic and unoriginal, I resigned myself to the idea that there must be at least some grain of truth to their criticisms. Being a fan of developer Tri-Ace’s earlier works, such as Valkyrie Profile, I wanted to give Infinite Undiscovery a shot. It was one of the reasons I wanted a 360, actually. I managed to get a brand new copy from Amazon Marketplace for $20, figuring that was a fair price to pay for a game that the majority had dubbed mediocre. Turns out that the majority can be totally, totally wrong.
Maybe the reviews served me well in that they’d significantly lowered my expectations, but no review I’d read could indicate what a pleasant surprise playing this game would be. Yes, it follows the lead of some other games in the genre, but it has a style all its own. Tri-Ace is fond of making games that pertain to the theme of establishing a personal identity, and Infinite Undiscovery unsurprisingly follows suit. The game is set in a world where humans have enjoyed prosperity by harnessing the power of the moon, until some twits took that phrase a little too literally and decided to chain the moon to the planet, setting the two celestial bodies on a collision course for destruction.
The player follows Capell, a hapless flute player who bears a disturbing resemblance to a heroic figure known as Sigmund the Liberator, who has been traveling the world to sever the chains. There are definitely some JRPG tropes here, such as humanity playing with a power they can’t control, but while I was playing the game, something occurred to me: To a fan of JRPGs, saying a game has those tropes carries about as much weight as saying that it comes in a box. It’s what fans of the genre have come to expect, and we can overlook it much more easily than those who don’t “get” JRPGs. Infinite Undiscovery presents several original ideas, but it handles itself admirably even when it’s walking down the road that’s already been traveled.
One of the most surprising aspects of Infinite Undiscovery is its quirky charm. I definitely wasn’t expecting that from the game (Tri-Ace’s storytelling style is usually more serious), and while I can see why it would be a turn-off to some people, I think the story is better for it. The characters are endearing thanks to some surprisingly strong personality development, particularly in Capell’s case. Capell pulls some eyeroll-inducing stunts at the beginning of the game, as he makes a habit of avoiding danger and responsibility. He’s weak, but it makes him a very human and relatable character. While the story is ultimately about his development into a leader and a hero, he never becomes the perfect, infallible hero like Sigmund.
The player sees the very extremes of Capell’s personality, from weakness to murderous rage, and almost everything in between. He knows that he isn’t perfect, but he never tries to be. He just tries to be himself, and in most cases, that’s good enough. This depth of character development plays a critical role in the story, and it means that when the game inevitably tries to pull at the heartstrings, the player feels it, because they have reason to care. Too many games these days focus on the gritty and morbid, so it’s refreshing to see a game with some charm and a healthy dose of heart.
Infinite Undiscovery also took some risks in its gameplay, and I consider it a gamble that paid off. Several critics faulted the game for the fact that it can be completed in about 20 hours, as opposed to the genre convention of about 40 hours. This blows my mind, because I think the game would not be nearly as good if it were twice as long. The game moves at a brisk but refreshing pace, never forcing the player to stay in one place for too long or incorporating extraneous plot points just for the sake of lengthening the experience. There are few lulls in the plot and gameplay progression, making it a tight, refined experience.
If the player wants more, there’s plenty of replay value in the form of unlockable difficulty settings and a bonus dungeon (though a New Game Plus feature would have been appreciated). In all sincerity, I wish more JRPGs would take this approach, because I rarely have the time or the inclination to sink 40 hours into a game these days. I can’t say how many times I’ve lost interest in a game because the story progression had slowed to a trickle, or I was forced to do some boring and completely redundant dungeon or mini-game before I could continue. As a matter of fact, Tri-Ace’s own Star Ocean 3 was guilty of this. I appreciate the fact that the developers didn’t try to artificially extend the story, choosing instead to cut the fat and make a game that was only as long as it needed to be.
The game also presented a streamlined battle system that I enjoyed tremendously. Infinite Undiscovery’s fights unfold completely in real time, without too many menus to clog up the process. Different A and B button input combinations provide various combo attacks, as well as some satisfyingly flashy skills. If you notice your HP getting low, a simple tap of the Y button will prompt a party member to start casting a healing spell or use an item, keeping the player in the action.
Even the item menus are in real time, meaning the player must maintain an increased awareness of his surroundings. The ally AI can only be given general commands, such as act freely or conserve MP, but they handle themselves very well, and will often rescue the player from sticky situations. The result is a fast-paced and downright fun battle system that never gets tiring, even if it isn’t as deep as the usual turn-based fare. The game’s length contributed to this as well, since a battle system like that could easily grow tedious by the 40-hour mark, but at 20 hours, it’s perfect.
I came to the discovery (sorry) while I was playing Infinite Undiscovery that this game was what I wanted Final Fantasy XII to be. I’m not hating on FFXII here (though it sure seems like it), but Infinite Undiscovery is a textbook example of how to handle an action RPG. A frenetically fun battle system that eliminates party micromanagement so you can stay in the moment; combined with a thematically unique storyline that may hearken back to genre conventions (but keeps players interested without forcing them to slog through hours of time-extending BS) just leaves me begging for more. It’s too bad that the game didn’t fare well critically, because there’s a lot for the genre to learn from here. Undiscovery doesn’t exactly spark any revolutions, but it definitely puts on a nice fireworks show.