Why do Final Fantasy characters always sing?
Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth may have been criticized for playing too much with the multiverse and inflating its running time, but the game hit the nail on the head with a key element in the Final Fantasy tradition: the diegetic number.
Diegetic songs, that is, songs that other characters in a fictional universe can hear, have been a staple of musical theater, cinema, and animation since the beginning of those industries. Think of Snow White instructing the unsuspecting animals to “whistle while they work,” or Maria teaching the Von Trapp children to “Do Re Mi” in The sound of music.
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Final Fantasy first experimented with it in Final Fantasy 6when former Empire knight Celes sings “Aria di Mezzo Carattere.” The song is heard by both players and in-game characters, and it’s all part of a ruse to get Setzer and his airship to join the party. If the player fails to get Celes to sing the correct lyrics, their mission will fail and they will have to start over. In the original 1994 version of the game, composer Nobuo Uematsu a vocal track simulatedbut it resulted in an unintelligible synthesized “voice” harmonizing with the instrumental melody due to the technical limitations of that time. In the final remaster he managed to get a decent vocal track with lyrics.
Most Final Fantasy titles of 6 Unpleasant 10-2 characterizes diegetic songs. In 8the power ballad “Eyes on Me” starts out as Julia Heartilly’s piano bar melody and becomes a waltz and radio hit: Julia is the mother of 8‘s heroine, Rinoa, and Julia had written the song for Laguna, who became the father of the male protagonist, Squall. In 9“Melodies of Life” begins as a hummed tune by the female protagonist Garnet, which later becomes a crucial part of the plot – and it is played in full during the closing credits.
In Rebirth, Just as the player is about to enter the final dungeon, their party is treated to one final night of delight at the Gold Saucer—essentially the in-universe version of Las Vegas. For most, the highlight of that final episode of levity is the romantic (or bromantic) date atop the Saucer’s Ferris wheel, but much of the evening is taken up with good old-fashioned theatrics. At the end of the first act of the play “Loveless,” the PA calls for “Maycombe Blume,” who turns out to be none other than Aerith, one of the two female leads. Aerith takes the stage and, voiced by Loren Allred of “Never Enough,” sings a power ballad titled “No Promises to Keep.”
Composed as an antithesis to the ethereal-yet-melancholic “Aerith’s Theme,” “No Promises to Keep” is meant to emphasize Aerith’s inner voice. It’s easy to interpret it as a love song (“Take my hand… and never let me go,” the lyrics go), but if the player observes the characters’ reactions to it, they’ll understand it as an ode to the friends she’s made along the way. Depending on who the player ends up going on a date with, lion/wolf hybrid Red might wag his tail and take some tickles from male protagonist Cloud; Gunner Barrett, usually stoic but a devoted father to his adoptive daughter Marlene, can bounce along to the song’s beat; and the ninja Yuffie, the typical energetic-yet-childlike character players find in many JRPGs, can perform a mock-karaoke version of the song. “No Promises to Keep” becomes an ode to Aerith’s chosen family — a theme that permeates Rebirth all together.
Visually, the execution is stunning, and not just in terms of the level of detail: not only does a field of asphodels bloom as the song progresses, but Aerith also summons a vision through the lifestream that serves as a farewell greeting to the characters the player has sadly lost earlier. Furthermore, seeing the reactions of the other characters avoids the feeling of a gratuitous, Hollywood-style production. Whether the player thinks Aerith has turned into a manic elf dream girl or a Mary Sue, she is clearly beloved by the group around her.
The fact that Square Enix chose Allred for this track adds another layer: she first rose to prominence singing one of the most notable diegetic songs of the 21st century: “Never Enough” by The greatest showmanin which the character Jenny Lind, played by Rebecca Ferguson, addresses the bottomless ambitions of PT Barnum during a performance on her tour.
Not all high-octane diegetic songs are equally crucial or revealing. Final Fantasy 10-2‘s ballad, “1000 Words.” Currently, former summoner Yuna has been tasked with keeping the morale of the world of Spira high after it was discovered (a mere two years after the permanent defeat of the otherwise recurring calamity known as Sin) that there is a hidden mecha that can destroy the entire topside world, all the time. As beautiful as the performance is – and regardless of whether players watch the Japanese version, in which she transforms into the singer Lenne, or the international version, in which she sings a duet with her – the song ultimately tells the tragic love story of Lenne and the demise of her beloved Shuyin during the Zanarkand versus Bevelle war 1,000 years earlier.
While the lovers’ tragedy served as a proxy for the futility of war, was a sentimental melodrama all the Spirians needed? That depends on how the player views the game, but in my case, watching the sequence as a clip – via downloadable videos I found on Italian fan sites prior to the game’s 2003 localization – made me want to cry. By contrast, finally reaching that point during in-game play left me pretty cold when I actually played: the stakes didn’t feel high enough to warrant a continental concert, and the song’s content didn’t feel like a tearjerker enough, considering that Yuna herself had been in love with a figment of a collective dream and that saving the world in the first place was 10 meant I had to let go of that dream. I found Lenne and Shuyin’s sad love story to be an unnecessary filler and the cheerful opening track “Real Emotion” was much better as an anthem in honor of a world freed from a cyclical plague. Unfortunately, I was not yet familiar with the concept of camp.
In fact, a diegetic song, even if it’s not crucial in terms of plot, narrative depth, or character development, can still be enjoyed in a campy, tongue-in-cheek way. If that weren’t the case, we wouldn’t have Grimes singing the original song “Soft Animal” as Lizzy Wizzy in Cyberpunk 2077; Pauline leads a festival in New Donk City while Mario climbs scaffolding to the tune of “Jump Up Superstar”; pub musicians in The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt; the sea shanties in Assassin’s creed black flag; the Beggar’s Opera in Assassin’s Creed 3; and, crucially, a parody of Final Fantasy 6‘s own “Aria Di Mezzo Carattere”. Substory.
After all, all heroes need some comfort after completing a lot of thankless tasks.