30. Rhapsody: A Musical Adventure (PlayStation)
Rhapsody: A Musical Adventure is one of the earliest RPGs released by Nippon Ichi Software, the same folks behind Disgaea and Phantom Brave. Since its initial release, Rhapsody has received an enhanced port (in Japan), a DS remake, a bonafide "part two" sequel (in Japan), and a few spin-offs (in Japan). The game is also loosely related to the PS2 title La Pucelle: Tactics. What strikes me immediately about Rhapsody is its box art. Publisher Atlus thought it'd be swell to display nothing but a pretty (and seemingly apprehensive) anime girl (who does appear in the game... eventually). A bold move, even when one considers the slow rise in popularity of "anime RPGs" in the United States. Who exactly were they marketing to? Those who enjoyed Thousand Arms? Girls? Kids? Me? I did buy it -- eventually.
In any event, Rhapsody does indeed feature a female protagonist (not the gal on the cover). Her name's Cornet. She's 16 years old, adorable, a competent trumpet player, wears a silly hat with goggles. Cornet additionally has the ability to interact with puppets, who harbor human souls. Her constant companion is Kururu, a cute but sarcastic pixie puppet. A longstanding dream of Cornet is to marry a prince, and there's a specific one she has in mind. Though she manages to win the heart of the young man, the prince is soon abducted by Marjoly, a devious witch who also has the hots for royalty. As such, the game's main quest is dedicated to a sort of trope reversal, of the young female suitor attempting to save the high-status male.
The localization is quite good, and this is a very loquacious game. Cornet and Kururu are imbued with charming personalities, and their back-and-forth banter is ever amusing. Though, in regards to other types of dialogue, at times it does feel like Atlus was trying to outdo Working Designs. There are numerous corny jokes, many of which don't land. The fourth wall is broken with advertisements for Thousand Arms and Tail Concerto. Hidden treasure chests sing an Atlus jingle. Thankfully, 90s pop culture references are nonexistent.
Rhapsody is one of those compact ten-hour RPG romps. The world map is cursor-driven, which leaves towns and dungeons as the explorable environments. Backtracking is easy, as once a locale is visited it can forever be "warped" to by selecting it on the world map. The game's pacing is all over the place. Rhapsody lacks FMV cutscenes, but will frequently halt gameplay in favor of lengthy "events" that unfold via huge chunks of dialogue mixed with minuscule player involvement (think of something like the Final Fantasy VI opera but exponentially less interesting). And while the game is decidedly linear initially, it "opens up" later on in a way that isn't particularly competent or interesting. Instead, Cornet and her pals are sent on a series of tedious fetch quests for various MacGuffin objects (magical stones, keys, and so on).
Navigational frustrations are amplified by the game's dungeon design, which is absolutely terrible. Only two types of dungeons exist in Rhapsody: caves and stone temples. Each cave (or each temple) looks identical to the next, with the exception of a change to the color palette. Dungeons are comprised of a series of single-screen rooms, with the occasional staircase leading up or down. They're mazelike in the most standard way possible, full of random dead ends and wraparound segments. It's a bit like Zelda, minus the puzzles, the challenge, the logical layouts, the memorable background details, the fantastic mapping system. Okay, it's nothing like Zelda. In contrast, the towns are nice homey places to hang out and chat with the locals.
While Cornet is the constant head of the heroic party, she recruits many folks along the way. In the style of a Super Nintendo RPG, Rhapsody allows for four playable party members, and swapping characters in and out is allowed at any time outside of battle. Those on the sidelines do not gain experience points, however. Since Kururu is too shrimpy to effectively battle, Cornet relies on other puppet allies. These are found throughout the journey. Some are lying in plain sight, while others are well-hidden (and also wholly optional). Each puppet will have an additional sidequest assigned to them, which "releases their soul" upon completion. These quests are well-buried and typically not worth the trouble. They don't send Cornet and co. to any interesting new locales, instead they're predicated on dragging a new puppet to an old haunt. Different puppets are naturally proficient in different styles of attack and magic, though there's never any reason to consistently rotate and level up the mass of them. Best to simply find a party that "works" early on and stick with it. Inexplicably, as if the puppets weren't enough, the game also contains a "monster-raising" element. Specific foes may ask to join the party upon defeat. Monsters can quickly fill up the max character roster so the game allows them to be dumped off in towns. It's completely pointless. The monsters are almost always uniformly weaker than the puppets. Also, the puppets are cute and the monsters aren't.
Battles occur randomly, are over quickly, and are waged via a very rudimentary grid-based "tactical RPG" system. During each participant's turn they are allowed to move (within a given range) and execute one additional command (a range-compliant attack or magic spell, item, run, etc.). Occasionally, terrain comes into play, with boulders or other obstacles blocking the most direct routes to the enemy. Unfortunately, any "tactics" are rendered virtually moot by how easy the game is. Enemies are extraordinarily weak, with pitiful amounts of HP. Thus, moving along the grid to close in on an enemy feels pointless, as the foe is then subsequently killed with a solitary blow. "Moving" just feels like wasted turns. And NIS apparently agreed: in the DS remake of Rhapsody the grid was dropped altogether in favor of a more traditional JRPG battle system. Additionally, some of the puppets, like Sharte (stifle the laughter please) and Terra, eventually possess powerful target-all spells that decimate entire enemy armies at once.
The game box advertises the inclusion of "hilarious" special attacks that can be executed by Cornet. Initiating these attacks is a bit confusing. Cornet has to first charge up a musical meter by repeatedly playing her horn during battle, within the vicinity of puppets (the grid is used here). After some charging, Cornet can then topple enemies with flan or pancakes or some other food. Seriously. It is funny, but a questionable tactic, as Cornet has to slowly work her way up to unleash attacks similar in scope to those Sharte can consistently unleash every single turn. And, remember, most enemies die in one hit. Bosses may take five or six. Outside of the battle system, every other aspect of Rhapsody is suitably dumbed down, ostensibly in the player's favor. There's no reason to ever use healing items, as HP and MP are both recovered at every level-up, and characters consistently level up after every third or fourth skirmish. Status effects technically "exist" within the game, though enemies never seem to cast the spells that cause them, rendering the remedying items worthless. "Weapons" and "armor" do not exist, though each character can equip three stat-boosting accessories. There are no restrictions here; any character can utilize any accessory.
The graphics are quite good, boasting some beautiful 32-bit 2D visuals. Animations are smooth and numerous. There are even "jiggle physics" that pertain to the female characters, which feels slightly weird in a game that's otherwise so kid-friendly. Portraits are displayed when characters speak. These are well-detailed and hysterical, predominantly displaying all the classic anime clichés: the giant sweat drop of embarrassment, the wide open-mouthed frustrated scream, the arms flailing in rage and exasperation. Gorgeous full-screen art scrolls can also be unearthed, tucked away in dungeon chests.
Rhapsody is billed as a "two-disc" game, though this is somewhat misleading. Open the game case to observe that disc 1 is the game itself while disc 2 is actually a bonus soundtrack. Which leads us to the "musical" part of this adventure: Rhapsody contains a series of songs -- with complete English vocals and lyrics -- sung by the various cast members at pivotal moments. These songs are sappy, overwrought, and often downright silly. They're also catchy and upbeat and fun to listen to. The narrative is driven forward by these tunes, and having a separate CD available to revisit them was quite the smart addition. Unfortunately, the "normal" instrumental music in the game isn't nearly as exciting as those bombastic sung tracks. While the presence of voiced songs is a pleasant oddity, note that the game contains no voiced dialogue.
The final few hours of Rhapsody are marked by a tonal shift where the game becomes less silly and more sad and bittersweet. These emotions are driven by some seriously poignant tunes and accompanying story revelations. This "tearjerker" stuff is pretty jarring, but anyone who's familiar with old Japanese RPGs has come to expect this kind of thing. All told, the game is sort of a mess and all over the place, in terms of both theme and design. The goofy charm can't make up for the dreary gameplay it's juxtaposed against. It's pretty apparent that NIS wasn't experienced with crafting fully-realized competent RPGs at this point. Rhapsody is a game with an identity crisis: it feels like it doesn't exactly "want" to be an RPG. What it wants to do is drive home an emotionally riveting narrative, but it stumbles with devising a presentation that would allow for such a thing. Still, some will find this enjoyable. It exudes that "dated but in a charmingly nostalgic way" vibe, and certain folks will surely become attached to these characters. We could all use a little Kururu in our lives.
