Video Game Burnout and the Little Astro Bot That Could
I think I hate Final Fantasy VII Rebirth.
Controversial opinion, I know, but it’s one that surprises even me, considering its previous entry was one of my favorite games of that generation. Not only did Remake bring forth the first section of that hallowed original game to an aesthetic standard that exceeds our imagination, but it was brisk, it was focused, it never felt like it lingered too long or dragged its feet too much on it’s way to the next story beat, nor did it drown you in too many ancillary systems to manage, just enough to keep the craving classic JRPG stat management fed.
Rebirth is anything but that.
It’s overstuffed, it’s slow, it demands so much of your time and attention on things that feel so completely unnecessary to the development of this story: sidequests, open world map exploration, mini-game after mini-game after mini-game. As soon as there’s any hint of plot advancement, it’ll come to a screeching halt, put a gun to your head, and force you to play its homegrown trading card game.
And god, the fucking SYSTEMS they added. Skill trees within skill trees, skill trees for characters, upgrade paths for weapons, combo actions for every possible combination of characters and new gauges to track each one. Perhaps they really wanted to amp up their second entry to prove that they’re committed to expanding on the previous game by every conceivable measure, but the result is something that makes me nearly physically ill to think about continuing.
And all of this is just one example of the greater disease that has befallen AAA games development: Bloat.
It feels like many of the latest flagship games have to justify themselves by adding every idea generated in a pitch meeting into the pot. Yakuza games aren’t just about pummeling good via a fine-tuned melee combat system, now they’re turn-based RPGs that span dozens of hours that throw in kart racing and cabaret management, Fire Emblem games aren’t just strategy games anymore, they’re basically dating sims, and god, any open-world game that presents you with a maps with a thousand little icons, little tasks to complete, are the guiltiest of all, and the aforementioned FF7 Rebirth definitely not innocent. And even if you call them side quests and claim they’re unnecessary to do, if you lock meaningful core story content behind such things, then I’m being deprived of the “complete” experience.
I used to love looking forward to new games, but all of what I’ve described above just makes me feel a bit ill when I glance at the PS5 and Xbox Series X stuck under my TV. I think I’m learning to hate my favorite hobby.
Until a little blue and white robot decided to make a comeback.
Astro’s Playroom, the free little pack-in title for the PS5, is perhaps one of its best games. At face value, it’s a glorified demonstration of the PS5 and the unique features of its controller wrapped in a love letter to all things PlayStation, but at its core it’s a simple, fun, fine-tuned, and focused little platformer. You can get through it in a couple of hours, but it leaves you wanting more.
And surely enough, more came.
When Astro Bot was announced at the tail end of a State of Play a mere couple of months ago, it was the first time in a long while that I felt genuine hype over an upcoming game. Its promise of a fun and focused platforming adventure, backed by the good will of that little pack-in, was like a breath of fresh air, a break from the bloat, a chance to reinvigorate my love for games. And it kind of did that!
Astro Bot is basically everything I thought it would be. An extension of what was presented in Astro’s Playroom. A lovingly crafted tribute to the history of PlayStation packed with hundreds of little references. An engaging platformer with bright, colorful worlds to explore and clever new mechanics to help you explore them. And, most importantly, a fun game. One that doesn’t demand you sacrifice all of your free time to it, and yet delivers more fun per buck than any 100+ hour bloatfest.
And yeah, while a cynical reading of the game would present it as nostalgia bait for the simpler games of our past, of the Ape Escapes and the LocoRocos and the Patapons left to rot in Sony’s vault, even if you were to remove all that, I guarantee the game would still be a fun time.
And this whole experience has left me forced to reevaluate my relationship with video games, and what I truly find enjoyable about them.
A part of me thought I needed to force myself to finish FF7 Rebirth so that I can participate in the conversation around it and participate in that community, FOMO if you will, but is it worth it when I know I’m going to disagree with the common consensus and people tend to take disagreements in opinions as if they were personal insults and will fight me over it? Nah.
A game that I’ve perhaps spent the most time on is, admittedly, Fortnite. But is it because I actually care about completing battle passes and claiming victory royales? Nah, not really. It’s more of an opportunity to hang out with friends and family from afar, that’s the actual allure, and it’s free-to-play nature makes its barrier of entry pretty low.
And did I enjoy Astro Bot because it's a groundbreaking and revolutionary piece of gaming? Nah. It just sets out to do one thing, and it does it extremely well.
It’s focused.
Focus is what I need.
Focus is what I crave.
Despite all this, I think I’m still going to try to push through and finish FF7 Rebirth, sunken cost fallacy be damned, and I have been procrastinating on finishing FF14 Dawntrail as well, but once I get through those, I’m gonna take a break from the Big New Things and dig through a backlog of smaller experiences, ones have a clearer idea of what they want to be and not try to appeal to everyone all at once.
As a certain hedgehog once famously said, “I want shorter games with worse graphics made by people who are paid more to work less and I’m not kidding.”