Terranigma

In my probably not so humble opinion there are three SNES games that tower high above the rest: Chrono Trigger for its sheer beauty, Earthbound for its whackiness, and Terranigma for its noire overtones. If asked which of these I consider truly a work of art, I would answer: Terranigma.

Chrono Trigger's beauty is obvious (which is not to say that it is only skin deep), and it is, after all, within the usual bounds, it is reassuring. You know what you're doing, and you know it is right. Terranigma, on the other hand, does not open itself as quickly, its beauty has to be discovered, and far from being reassuring it leaves you forever insecure and worrying. Its hero remains forever a pawn and you are never sure if what you are doing for gameplay reasons is actually such a good idea.

Terranigma is what is called an action RPG, a genre that follows rules slightly different from the mainstream console RPGs, in gameplay and in story. Combat is real-time, there is only one hero instead of a party (and, for some reason, you can buy, but not sell stuff in shops). This single hero, who is always male, tends to be younger than the main hero of a console RPG. These are young, but definitely adults, in their early 20s maybe; the heroes of action RPGs are kids, teenagers, living with their parents or some other relative (Chrono Trigger, as in some other aspects, follows the conventions of action RPGs here).

A boy-no-good out to save the world would hardly be a revolutionary theme for an action RPG. But Terranigma goes a bit farther. Not only is Ark a bit more of a juvenile delinquent than your average RPG hero, but instead of just saving the world he has to resurrect it, after it was destroyed through his own fault. And this world is the real world, our world, though he lives in a subterranean reign in the beginning.

Yes, he has to resurrect the world, first the five continents, then the plants, the animals, mankind, and in the last chapter, the genius. And none of these goes without loss. Once he has resurrected mankind, he cannot talk to the plants and animals any more. The magic of childhood has vanished. Side quests take up a lot of room, and Ark—or you—get to rebuild civilisation, electricity has to be invented, the telephone, the airplane (you actually need this to finish the game) trade and tourism encouraged, so that big cities grow out of the humble villages. But are the people happier in these cities? The game leaves ample reason to doubt this.

I will not pretend to have understood the story completely, I think there never was a Japanese RPG I understood completely. And even as far as I did understand it, I do not want to give away too much. Let me just say that just as Ark always remains a pawn, so will you feel; you do your thing, you fight your fights, you gain your experience points and advance the storyline, but never will you be sure if you really should be doing what you are doing. And with that, let us turn to something else.

Not only is the story unconventional, so are the graphics. Sure, most of the time the game uses the same tiled graphics as any other console RPG, but far more often than any other it does not. I would say it departs farther from the basic idea of tiled graphics than any other similar game, some of the structures it displays on regular maps are huge. Check out the elevator at the bottom of the gameplay screenshots, or the tower near the top. And some of the bosses are so huge they do not fit on the screen completely! Unfortunately, I have far more screenshots than webspace.

Last but not least this game is an interesting study in interface design. The whole menu system is supposed to be the inside of a box, into which Ark can jump at any time. Inside of this box there are four rooms, a main room with a mirror where he can see his status, a jewel box where he can choose his spells and similar features; a room for his weapons, all layed out neatly on tables; a room for his armor; and a room for his items. You can see two of the rooms in the top two gameplay screenshots. Yes, Ark changes shape when he jumps inside, becoming this ball with a face and wings.

And there are other details. When Ark is adventuring, a little money bag in the bottom right corner displays how much gold he has. And as his treasure grows—so does the graphic of the money bag. Oh all you wise guys who you are so proud to have had the idea of representing files as icons on the screen—why have you never thought of visualizing the size of the file through the icon, too? Once again this supports my theory that game designers are the true professionals in interface design; the others are just amateurs.

Ah, much could be said. But what's the use in talking? And in the end, in the end, Ark will turn into a bird, just like Bobbin Threadbare in Loom, will race a speed train, fly with a light plane, fly through the beauty of the world he has resurrected, and all talk is futile.

Links

• Cherubae's Terranigma Info Page
• Terranigma Isle
• Screenshot Gallery on Tony's Page

Terranigma is actually the final part of a trilogy that started with Soul Blazer (1992) and continued with Illusions of Gaia (1994). I played both games for a while, but neither of them can compare with Terranigma. Nor did I ever find any hints that having played them might heighten your enjoyment of Terranigma; the three games are probably connected only loosely, as is often the case with Japanese console RPG series.

• Terraearth is about all the three games that form the trilogy.