quote Play Magazine
Ruins—buildings bereft of human life, softly
crumbling to dust. Abandoned urban spaces
may provoke feelings of fear and sadness, but
stepping inside them can be an oddly serene
experience. Bandai Namco’s Wii “RPG”, Fragile, takes its
inspiration from such spaces, eliciting the mystique and
romance inherent in modern ruins.
Fragile begins on a dying, near-future Earth, its
inhabitants decimated by an unexplained catastrophe. All
that remain are spirits wandering amidst decaying urban
landscapes, as the forests gradually reclaim the land. The
handful of humans that still live travel from place to place,
searching for other survivors.
At the end of a brief summer, a boy named Seto buries
his grandfather, the only other person he has ever known.
Seto fi nds a letter from his grandfather that night, bidding
that he travel in the direction the sun rises, where a giant
radio tower can be seen in the distance. “You may fi nd
other people there”, suggests the letter—the only clue
the boy has. With nothing else to do but slowly starve,
Seto heads east.
Fragile is a work by Kentaro Kawashima, an unsung
master of the “funiki game”—a Japanese term for games
that present such a compelling ambience, or funiki,
that gameplay becomes a secondary consideration.
Kawashima’s previous games include 7 and Venus &
Braves, both cult-hit, Japan-only PlayStation 2 RPGs.
For Fragile, his team oversaw game design and art
direction, but hard development was handled by tri-
Crescendo, a name you may recognize from Eternal
Sonata on Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3. Like that title,
Fragile is an aesthetically beautiful game, but one that
has considerable gameplay problems.
I had hoped direction from an experienced team like
Kawashima’s might result in a quality game experience, but
it was not to be. I’m a big fan of Fragile, but I have to admit
the core gameplay is a disappointment. When regarded as
a funiki game, however, it almost doesn’t matter. Eternal
Sonata may have been pretty, but it failed for lack of heart.
Fragile, on the other hand, is brimming with it. Part of it is
the graphics, certainly—among the best on Wii—but mostly
is has to do with an intangible something that lies between
the deeply human story, melancholy music, and eerie, silent
vistas of a ruined Japan.
What is the actual game like? Any amount of couching
a critique in my genuine respect for the game won’t
help much, so I’ll give it to you straight: Imagine a 12 to
15 hour long Silent Hill with no puzzles and laughably
easy combat. The only really challenge comes when
your weapon randomly breaks, leaving you defenseless.
An RPG this is not, despite the genre listed on the box.
Instead, it’s an exercise in third person action mediocrity.
Not egregiously bad—collision and cameras work fi ne,
the Wiimote-as-fl ashlight device is well implemented—
but tedious. Much like Rule of Rose, another funiki game
with absent gameplay and stunning presentation, your
enjoyment of Fragile will depend on your ability to tune
combat out, concentrating instead on the wonder of
immersion in its ruined world.
The art, story, music, concept and ambience of Fragile
are so wonderful—and so unprecedented, for postapocalyptic
Western games like Fallout 3 emphasize the
horror of ruins rather than their beauty—that I would call
it a must play. Despite its tepid, if workmanlike gameplay,
I can think of few Japanese Wii games that deserve a
Western release more than Fragile.