If you’ve ever been to Disneyland (which you no doubt have if you’re a human who has lived on Earth between 1955 and right now), then you’ve also probably become acquainted with the ‘classic’ rides featured in the parks which, despite their inherent lack of impressive features or technology, draw in abhorrently long queues of people. Based on older Disney properties like Peter Pan, Pinocchio, and Snow White, these attractions remain as popular as ever due to an attribute rarely seen in any entertainment medium: Timelessness.
And it’s this elusive quality that has me so utterly enthralled in the world of Dragon Quest XI: Echoes of an Elusive Age (Yes, I know I’m late to the party). With the storied series being something of a cultural phenomenon in Japan, I was exposed to all its quirky and cute oddness on our trip earlier this year, with every other shop being packed with merchandise and props. And while I’ve had a passing familiarity with the series for a few years now, I’m ashamed to admit this is my first time actually playing one of the games. But, my dudes, I cannot express the purest joy I now feel having given it a go.
And now the weird Disneyland tangent at the beginning comes into play, as, during my first ten hours or so with Dragon Quest XI, I felt this feeling of snuggly warmth which I hadn’t really experienced in games prior to this. And then it struck me. Dragon Quest XI is an old Disneyland ride. Now, this may sound like the ramblings of a wannabe journalist grasping for an analogy, which it is, but I feel like the similarities are abundant between the two entertainment forms. Both share a distinctly vintage approach to design and storytelling, for one. They are slow and somewhat meandering, but this only serves to strengthen the fairytale-like nature of it all.
Moreover, neither the game nor the attractions concern themselves with satiating one’s lust for excitement, only the natural fondness for comfort and good vibes shared by (hopefully) most people. You’ll not find any ridiculously imposing boss fights or arduous grinding via random encounters in DQ XI. Instead, you’ll find yourself wrapped in a cosy digital blanket of ostentatiously crafted towns, open fields, and breezy combat encounters. And, like most other JRPGs, the gratification of leveling up a party member gives your brain a pleasant tingly feeling, which I hope is an intentional sensation drawn out by developer Square Enix and not some undiagnosed medical condition.
Anyways, speaking of towns, this game has a whole lot of them. And each one is as delightfully charismatic in design and in populace as the last. For example, a village which you’ll encounter fairly early in the story is called Hotto. This locale sits at the base of an inky black volcano, and its architecture is distinctly Eastern, with ornate, pagoda-like structures housing the town’s amenities.
The hot springs/ sauna facilities are a zen-inducing treat to saunter through, but it’s the inhabitants that really set this place apart from the more traditional fantasy towns you’ll have visited thus far on your journey. Speaking exclusively in haiku, the townsfolk address you in such a way that’ll have you at once impressed by the game’s remarkable localisation, and also concerned for the mental health of the Hottonians.
Just to bang on about the towns a tad more, the smaller details are bewildering. Things like bowls of food and table arrangements are both perfectly logical and visually brilliant, which appeases nitpicking arsebiscuits such as myself quite nicely. If you’d like to hear a more in-depth discussion on the topic of the game’s wonderful towns, feel free to check out Kotaku’s delightfully odd critique on the game.
Now to dispense with all the technical jibber-jabber which I find far less interesting. The turn-based combat is fairly standard for a game of this type but does give you the option to run around the battlefield in between turns, which may soothe the more fidgety player. Additionally, the pep system is intriguing in that it dispels the common issue in JRPGs of being repeatedly having your balls battered by higher-level foes. Essentially, if a party member takes consecutive hits, they’ll enter a state where they go full Blue Man Group and dish out extra damage and such. This can also allow for special attacks accompanied by flashy animations reminiscent of powering up sequences in Dragon Ball.
Speaking of party members, the game hosts a wonderful cast of endearing characters with wildly different backgrounds, designs, and combat techniques. The absolute highlight for me so far has been Veronica, the sassy, pint-sized magician who gives you more shit than a rabbit with irritable bowel syndrome. But while Veronica is a near-constant delight, not every companion with which you fight can match the same level of brilliance. I’m now referring to Erik, an ex-thief who just blindly follows you about during the game’s opening hours spouting some poor dialogue made all the worse by a dodgy voice acting performance, with his accent bouncing from English to Italian American and neither sounding quite right.
On the technical side of things, the game boasts some bright and crisp visuals powered by the Unreal Engine 4. Having tried out the recent Switch port of the game, I have to say the PS4 Pro seems to be the way to go for clearer, sharper textures and models (shocking, I know), but it’s a handsome package on every platform. The soundtrack is also strong and weirdly nostalgic considering I’ve never played a game in the series prior to this, but the bubbly, bouncing tunes just feel like slipping into a divinely cushy sonic onesie (No, not that Sonic, you degenerates). So yes, both your eyes and ears will swell with delight when this game’s grand vistas and chirpy tunes are at their best.
In summary, Dragon Quest XI is bloody lovely. It’s relaxing, enchanting and visually distinct, all without succumbing to the many pitfalls of the genre this series has helped to define over the decades. I’d recommend playing it in the evening with your +5 ‘Snug’ slippers equipped and either body-warmth buffing mug of hot chocolate or a +3 ‘Tipsy’ glass of wine equipped as your primary weapon. Eye-rolling jokes aside, I’d advise anyone who sees the appeal in the idea of a gaming bedtime story to try this series. Especially because it’s a bit of a pain in the arse trekking all the way to Disneyland just to bask in that warm, nostalgic glow before hitting the hay when, instead, you could just be popping in Dragon Quest XI.




