Another writer and game producer, Yoko Taro is without a doubt the most cult developer after Metal Gear Solid developer Hideo Kojima. Drakengard a franchise that was designed to reverse character archetypes and satirise the mainstream principles of fantasy story.
Yoko Taro began with his protagonist Caim, you’re typical violent anti-hero forced into a pact with the thing he hates most, a dragon. Here we have the first and most important archetype reversal – we’re used to the older male supporting a younger female with a possible romance and here Yoko Taro has not only removed Caim’s voice (the price of his pact) but made his voice and partner the thing he hates most in the world forcing him to grow from first moments of the game. Taro also satirises the common trope in Japan of a younger sister idealising her older brother – Caim and his sister – in this Taro makes Caim’s sister’s infatuated with him, and inevitably her shame at her feelings towards her brother doom them all.
But it’s not just Taro’s desire to play with archetypes, tropes and even playable dynamics – the games literally changing style and perspective at different points quite uniquely – it is his writing style. He writes multiple endings and none could be considered happy. At best there is a bitter sweet ending and worst there are miserable endings, the most positive ending in the first Drakengard has Angelus (the dragon) sealed away to save the world, breaking Caim’s heart and leaving him alone and mute for the rest of his life.
Then comes Taro’s second franchise Nier, highlighting amusing differences between the choice in protagonist in the Western and Eastern markets. Nier was released as Nier Gestalt in the West with an older male lead seeking to save his daughter and in the East it was released as Nier Replicant with a younger male lead looking to save his sister.
It’s in this story however that Taro really twists the knife, with heartbreak upon heartbreak. Multiple endings which only end badly whether immediately for the characters or inevitably for humanity at large, and even more cruel it is discovered that the villain and protagonist are in fact the same person separated spiritually and physically, and so they are in fact both trying to save their daughter/sister. There is a also a hidden gem of cruelty given by Taro, in one ending you can sacrifice yourself to save everyone however it will erase you from existence and the memories of everyone – arguably this could be the happiest ending but Taro actually coded this mechanic into the game, choosing this option not only deletes your saved file but even prevents you from using the name of the character you put so much effort into navigating the narrative with ever again. He is a genuine genius because nobody in their right mind would ever think to do that to their fans/audience, but not only does Taro do it, he knows his fans, the people that appreciate his story craft and design actually love it. They love his ability to craft tragedy.
And that ties in directly to the narratives and tropes he weaves into all of his stories, there is one line that has always stuck out to me, which is especially impressive as his writing is superb. In Drakengard 1, Caim’s friend, the musician Inuart betrays Caim in an attempt to save his love, Caim’s sister, and made a pact with a dragon – specifically the one that killed Caim’s parents. He defeats Caim, captures Caim’s sister and as he mounts his dragon he reveals the price of his pact and the level of his despair in a single heartbreaking line, “Welcome to a world without song.”
This is a recurring theme in his work, the idea that power or success always requires sacrifice, and it’s never the sacrifice of time or the perseverance of hard work, it’s always something so intrinsic to his characters that their personal victories are equal to if not what than their failures. It’s beautiful in a sadomasochistic way.
Matt sHERIDAN'S rESEARCH AND eNQUIRY 