Originally posted on the now defunct fwxd.net.
'Late to the Party' represents Joshie's long running fight against the mountains of games he has left unfinished, unplayed or extremely unloved. How one man can crawl so slowly through the games he loves is unfathomable to everyone. This column is the self-inflicted punishment for these terrible crimes, in which he must complete games and give you impressions of them, even if he's just a "little late to the party". Just don't, you know... expect an update that often.
Having vanquished Final Fantasy X at the end of 2001, die-hard Square-Enix fans would have to endure a long slog before getting their next fix. Sure, adventurers were encouraged to engross themselves in the delightful bosom of Vana'diel in 2003, fans were given soft-core porn in the first true sequel to a Final Fantasy and the company even rebuilt bridges with Nintendo in order to ride the drought. All this did, however, was disappoint those who would only touch online with a ten-foot barge pole, despised the weak-sauce difficulty of X-2 and only managed to accomplish four-player in Crystal Chronicles after taking out a second mortgage.
It wasn't until 2006, a plump five years later, that fans would get their next "true" Final Fantasy game.
Final Fantasy XII opens with a distinct political undertone that is riddled throughout. Set in the world of Ivalice, a land Final Fantasy Tactics famously spelled in four different ways, we're told the heroic tale of the kingdom of Dalmasca, a small nation stuck between two bigger ones on the brink of war. Should the inevitable happen and the cannons fire open, Dalmasca would be the battlefield, or if you like, the Belgium.
Critics around the globe praised the game for its darker tones, its riveting political twists and its deep characters, comments of which made me wonder if I picked up the right game. The story of XII is in fact one so transparently paper thin I could describe it to you in a couple of sentences. There are no shocking turns, amazing revelations or epic battles. In fact, this is a game where nothing happens.

It opens with the kingdoms of Rozarria and Archadia on the brink of war, a status that is maintained from the outset to just before the close, while your party of would be heroes trot around the map doing one ‘fetch’ quest after another. You are told in a frankly childish manner that Archadia are "the bad guys", a view you must maintain because you only ever meet one pronounced Rozarrian in the entire game.
Where the plot may actually seem to be getting deeper is in fact a smoke screen, because the characters use so much "ye old language" that you require a masters degree to understand what the hell is going on. Added to the fact that spliced in-between these incomprehensible vocals are made-up words like manufacted nethicite, Jagd and Occuria, it's a wonder anyone knows what their next goal is without checking the world map for the next blinking red arrow.
It's at this point that I should really discuss the main characters of the game, however I can't because I forgot their names. All I remember about them is that there are six, all of whom are identical planks of wood. If emotion were a person, these characters would all have rectal cancer and bowel problems.
The lead role of this tale, a sprightly male with a chest that would make small babies cry, wishes to vent some anger towards Archadia for the death of his doppelganger… I'm sorry, brother… and wishes to one day be a sky pirate! Because let’s be honest, who wouldn't? You'd think I'm only doing a very brief description of him, however that's actually as detailed as Final Fantasy XII ever went. At the opening of the game you know everything there ever is to learn about him, for he never discovers, learns or achieves anything. If you ever wanted to find a more anti-hero, you couldn't.
The rest of the starring roles follow similar bland formations, although the creators should be given some credit for at least giving them interesting personalities. Something the main character could certainly do with. These blank slates are further solidified in your mind by the games magic and ability system, known as the License Board.

The License Board, a wholly unoriginal expansion on the Sphere Grid system, requires you to first unlock abilities with the use of LP gained in battle. However while in X this was simply limited to spells and attacks, in XII everything from swords, summons and a little breathing now and then also requires a License. After unlocking something, you are then required to also go out and buy it from one of the games multiple stores, a routine that often makes me feel ripped off. While in theory there is nothing wrong with this ystem per se, it becomes completely up to the player to create barely functional characters.
The unimaginative out there (and we know who you are) will be inclined to simply give every character everything, to disastrous results. Sure everyone might have the ability to heal, but if all your characters are equipped with the same pansy bow, how are you meant to kill anything?
Similarly the games other major system, Gambits, require deep thought or a mathematician in order to set up correctly. Having broken away from the traditional turn based battles into free roaming MMO-esque open plains, it is up to the computer to control your two companions. For better or worse, you are the one who has to "program" this.
Using statements such as "Ally: HP < 80% - Cure", you're supposed to set up your party so they can do the fighting for you. While at the start of the game this may seem like a nifty idea (hey! She just wasted all my ethers without me commanding her to!), by the end of your 80 odd hours of game play, the party is decimating, dieing, reviving and taking cigarette breaks without you pressing a single button. Call me old fashioned but doesn't the PS2 come with a controller for a reason?
The Gambit system is equally flawed by its confusing language and utterly baffling results. For example I soon discovered the need for gambit "If Ally is fucking dead again, Raise her,” but failed to find it at any local vendor. Upon consultation of a friend I was informed "Ally: Any - Raise" would work, a command that on paper should result in my mage casting revival spells on alive characters until the apocalypse. The function did in fact work, something that bemuses me to this day.

By now you must have the impression that I utterly detest the sight of this game, as was the intention, but despite all its flaws I did come out with some enjoyment. Final Fantasy XII is by far one of the largest games in the series, its beautiful open fields, deserts and skies spreading for miles. Square did a beautiful job at crafting this world and populating it with many cultures, voices and side quests. The acting in XII is fantastic, giving the people real personalities, which is why it pains me to know how two-dimensional their motives are.
Equally, the music score for the game is polished and performed to high standards, however it once again lacks any sort of true emotion. Your soon realise eighty hours in that despite it boasting a hundred strong sound track, many of the tunes sound similar or identical in tone and theme.
In all it is the heart and soul of Final Fantasy XII that is missing. No one can dispute the craftsmanship of this product, the thought behind it or the man-hours it must have taken. It pushes the PlayStation 2 to its absolute limits in every corner, but fails so miserably in achieving the quality fans have received from previous titles.
Everything from roll a dice limit breaks (that will either flatten a boss or barely prick them) to worthless summons and ultimate weapons that require a guidebook to find them, make this such a sour glass to drink. In the end the game is an incredibly enjoyable experience, with an action packed Star Wars style ending worth playing for the finale at least, however so much is missing it just feels half baked. Better luck next time perhaps?