What makes a Final Fantasy game a Final Fantasy game? A world in crisis? Probably. A group of youthful combatants with assorted skills and body types? Usually. A reality reliant on gems and infested with monsters? Typically. A cast of mythical creatures summoned to battle from the ether? Frequently. The loss of a beloved character? Occasionally. That tinkling, crystalline, arpeggiated melody? Yellow chocobos? White moogles? Ethnic diversity? Fifteen mainline games and a host of spin-offs have shown that while these ingredients are characteristic of the series, none is essential. Final Fantasy is a generously pliable fiction, a series built from touchstones that teams can pick and arrange in any number of configurations, to varying degrees of success.
Within five minutes of opening, we have seen a character light a cigarette using a magic finger, witnessed an almost-sex scene up against a wall in a castle corridor, and watched a soldier who fights in a squadron called The Bastards sprint across a battlefield while repeatedly shrieking, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck”. Even within the loose boundaries thatwith only nods to tradition.
