Digimon Time Stranger reminds me of the best (and worst) of PS2 era RPGs, and that's why I can't put it down
I think Digimon Story: Time Stranger is secretly a PS2 era Shin Megami Tensei game. That’s very much my taste in RPGs. Given this is sort-of a kid’s game (OK, it’s got a PEGI 12 rating because of ‘bad language’, ‘in-game purchases’, and – bafflingly – ‘sex’), that is a pretty big surprise. I’ve come to this conclusion after sinking a good 50 hours into the game, and being taken on a surprisingly volatile journey as a result. The story is pretty guff, with a lot of shōnen-style anime filler injected into the meat to make it appear more succulent, but most of my emotive response has been to its design philosophy, its approach to dungeons, and some unbelievable pacing choices. I can close this game either loving it, or hating it. But, for the past two weeks, I’ve not been able to stop going back to it.
I adore Atlus’ Shin Megami Tensei (or MegaTen) games, for all their flaws. I have a particular soft spot for the PS2 era of games – Nocturne, Digital Devil Saga and its sequel, and Persona 3 are highlights. You can see the thumbprints of the parent series even in games as late as Metaphor Refantazio: between demons, a doomed Tokyo, cerebral reflections on the nature of humanity, and impossible philosophical choices about the fate of the universe, it’s all pretty standard RPG fodder at this point. But just as instrumental to the series are lengthy and often-unwieldy dungeons, difficulty spikes and plateaus, boss fights that feel like masochistic puzzles, and combat systems as infuriating as they are spellbinding.
Digimon Story: Time Stranger has all of this. Even down to the doomed Tokyo. But instead of demons and creatures from the pantheon of human mythology, the game is populated with the eponymous Digimon – fascinating and varied creatures that range from cute little guys made out of bubbles to leather coat-wearing dominatrixes with G-cups and a pair of desert eagles. Instead of negotiating with demons to try and get them to join your cause, you’re defeating Digimon and converting their data into living beings that can join your team.
From here, you can either train them up and add them to your ranks, or have your other allies cannibalise them to gain their power. It’s not quite the sacrificial/fusion mechanic of MegaTen, but it’s not far off. And the weird complexity in how you get your pals to evolve and grow is just as abstruse as Persona or MegaTen’s fusion systems, too. ‘What do you mean I need to Digivolve then Digivolve my allies in order to get the result I want?’, I’d ask my TV screen, as entertained as I am flummoxed. ‘What do you mean I need to socially engineer their personalities to get the most iconic ‘mon?’, I’d shout. ‘What do you mean my only Virus-type is now Vaccine-type?’, I’d despair, as I get soft-locked into a battle I now have very little chance of winning.