Perhaps the "Intimations of Immortality" that arrived in the form of "Persona 3" director Katsura Hashino's head cold during a hard week at the office were not sufficient for a Wordsworthian ode, but his vision of a Japanese high school racing toward its death is definitely a more complete experience than said poem, or at least a lot more fun.
"Persona 3" for Playstation 2 is actually the fourth entry in a spinoff series to Atlus' sprawling Shin Megami Tensei behemoth. These games, most of which haven't seen the light of day in America for reasons that will soon be obvious, have little in common beside their hook: the harnessing of a host of mythological gods and demons by more-or-less ordinary people, and vice versa, in an alternate modern-day Japan setting.
It's all bizarre in a "Neon Evangelion" sort of way, but the series' trademark sly humor and social satire keep in check the elements that remind you of the relative age of the video game medium, like the abstract, faux Latin-filled opening and the action your teenage avatar must continually take to "destroy the superego" and fight the mysterious Shadows: point a (fake) gun to your head and pull the trigger.
Some will find this, er, "unique" ritual a new low in tastelessness, as on one hand it seems to cater to the obsession with suicide Japan and, to a lesser extent, America has long held. (Luckily, this game is too obscure, abstract and above all Japanese to stir up a "Grand Theft Auto"-style media frenzy.) And perhaps a medium more suited to serious drama would have better served any societal allegory on suicide cults or the ever-increasing pace of childhood.
Ignoring the "chicken-or-egg" debate, as one quickly does once the shock value is gone, "Persona 3" proves itself as much more than a gimmick, innovating the stale Japanese role-playing game genre and providing a integrated, thematic and ingeniously paced experience where every action inside and outside of battle is a choice with real consequences, as time advances toward the ominous "End" foretold in the opening with or without your help.
It also helps that "Persona 3" oozes style, from the sleek and anime-cliché-transcendent art by Soejima Shigenori to the ultra-hip electronica and saccharine-free J-pop from series composer Shoji Meguro. As good as the soundtrack is, however, certain songs quickly become extremely repetitive during the year you spend, day-by-day, going to school and climbing Tartarus.
Fortunately, while you may never want to hear "Want to Be Close"(beware: "Persona 3" is sprinkled with a healthy dose of Engrish) again after you put your PS2 to bed, juggling both mundane and life-or-death choices never gets old. Deciding between attending Kendo practice or walking home with your crush and deciding whether or not to risk a powerful attack your foe might counter are equally satisfying. The slow build of the inevitable apocalyptic conspiracy story is strengthened by the sometimes surprisingly witty dialogue (which, like the overall storyline, is still not a match on the high standard set by departed series writer Satomi Tadashi) that develops the characters surrounding your silent avatar in a natural and involving way.
The crawl up Tartarus, the tower that Gekkokan High transforms into each night, almost perfectly complements the school life periods, with a battle system that rewards preparation and varied strategies. The two are connected by the "social link" system, in which, as you develop diverse relationships within your town, you increase your ability to create new Personas, the source of all your battle skills. You must choose not only which schoolmates to favor, but also whether to train in Tartarus for the next full moon event or study to become "smart" so you can wax philosophical with your friend in the park.
It's a credit to the integrity of the director, head cold vision aside, that the finale of "Persona 3" makes all your work schmoozing with the Gourmet King and sewing in Fashion Club seem futile. The final moments, backed by the force of well-placed recurring thematic moments, dramatically deliver on the opening promise that "time delivers all equally to their end." For a game where one of the major highlights is a beach-babe scoping-out minigame, that's practically literary.
