Final Fantasy VI : Part 7

By Sam
Posted 06.16.17
Pg. 1 : 2 : 3

Our brave, cool heroes–no, they’re not barely functional goofballs, how dare you–embarked, in our last installment, on a mission to save their dear friend Twiggy from…herself, I suppose. This mission derailed a couple times, but by god, they got it done, only to abandon nude, temporarily insane, currently unconscious Twiggy at the top of a tenement building five minutes after finding her there. They also liberated her of the lone person that was keeping an eye on her, an Esper named Ramuh, because they don’t believe in half-measures.

Nailed it.

Nailed it.

Let’s pick up with the gang back in Jidoor. The toffs here are acting as they did before: still warning people away from Zozo and dropping hints about the opera house and someone referred to as “the gambler.” Wow, that sounds like one rad dude. I can’t wait to meet him and have my hair blown back by his amazing personality. But back at Owzer’s gilded home, as Celes walks through the door, she is ambushed by an anxiously pacing butler type. The man, labeled IMPRESARIO, blurts out, “Maria!?” The rest of the party spills out of Celes as she asks, “Are you talking to me?” How I wish he were talking to, I don’t know, Gau. It would make what’s about to transpire so much more tolerable. “Sorry…my mistake,” the Impresario replies. “Wow, you could pass for Maria in a heartbeat! Hoo boy, now I really am in trouble…” Hey, guys, I think he wants you to ask if he needs help. He’s being subtle, I know. But the Impresario totally zags on me–I expect him to stand there and look sad until they get the hint, but he takes off out the front door without another word. The party stands there staring after him, until one of the men asks, “CELES looks just like Maria…?” In response, Celes blinks several times and makes duck lips. As one does. I’ll take this as her signaling “Little old me?” since we’ve already heard from townsfolk that Maria the opera singer is sex on wheels. And this is going to get worse!

'I'M HOTTER THOUGH RIGHT WINONA'

‘I’M HOTTER THOUGH RIGHT WINONA’

Celes is about to take her leave after appreciating Owzer’s tremendous, very, very, really terrific art collection one more time, but on her way out, she trips over an envelope in the foyer. (She doesn’t, but let’s pretend, since being “clumsy” is the one “fault” Mary Sues are allowed to have.) The master of the house (I’m guessing meaning the head butler, because this is not Owzer), a man with Guile’s hair and a green dress, tells her of the person who dropped it, “He’s the director of the operas here. Everyone just calls him ‘Impresario.’ He’s been in a tizzy ever since that letter arrived.” There is absolutely no way the Impresario did not “drop” this letter specifically for Celes to find it, because it reads: “My Dear Maria, I want you for my wife. I’m coming for you… The Wandering Gambler.” Cool, so a serial killer is coming for the star of the opera. Wait, I mean a cool guy. Because this guy sounds so cool.

Winona wonders who this “Wandering Gambler” person is, other than a total badass who abducts women, swoon. “You born on a farm, son?” the butler asks. Maybe? I don’t know his life, except all the awful stuff I wish I didn’t know. And that’s also basically about abducting women! Maybe the Wandering Gambler is Winona’s soulmate. Anyway, the butler presumably explains who the man is, because we are treated to a tracking shot of a zeppelin gliding through the sky to soaring heroic music, helmed by a dashing man with flowing silver hair and a gray-brown trenchcoat. The Black Screen of Meta-Game Commentary introduces us to this raddest of rad dudes, before we’ve even met him in person: “A blackjack-playing, world-traveling, casino-dwelling free spirit…” Jesus. Where I come from, if two of the three things people say about you involve how much you love gambling, you are encouraged to attend meetings every week. Shit, sorry, that was supposed to read WHAT A HUNK. I keep Gambler Anonymous’s default name, SETZER, because I’ve already met him elsewhere and declined to nickname him then, and also because, like with Celes, I haven’t managed to come up with a name that better suits his pompous Gary Stu in-your-faceness.

'I don't always kidnap women from opera houses, but when I do, I prefer Dos Equis.'

‘I don’t always kidnap women from opera houses, but when I do, I prefer Dos Equis.’

Once the butler has painted this vivid word-picture of the Most Interesting Man in the World, he explains, “That’s SETZER, owner of the world’s only airship.” Somewhat to the game’s credit, there’s no round of Don Knottsing where everyone’s all, “WAIT, WE NEED AN AIRSHIP.” Celes and Winona jump right to planning a rendezvous with this Setzer fellow so they can book a trip to the Empire. I’m sure that, since everyone involved is smart and sensible, this will work out great and not be patently ridiculous.

Now armed with a lead better than “We might figure something out in Jidoor,” Celes rents some chocobos to book it down to the Jidoor Opera House. Yes, world map travel–all the way to the end of the peninsula on this continent’s southeast tip–is required to go from JIDOOR to a place labeled JIDOOR OPERA HOUSE. Don’t look at me. Maybe it’s Owzer’s winter retreat! Jidoor’s taxpayers are probably bleeding gil just so he can hang out down there every weekend while his wife lives in Figayro and stays the hell away from him.

When Celes enters the opera house, she is immediately greeted by the Impresario. “Ah! You again!” he exclaims, like he hasn’t been waiting by the door for her to arrive. Winona tells him he read Setzer’s letter, because he just learned how and is very proud. The Impresario replies, “He’ll probably appear right at the climax of Scene 1. He loves an entrance…” Everyone treats this matter-of-factly, but this is a ludicrous statement, isn’t it? How many times has Setzer swooped in mid-opera to attempt this kidnapping? Has he ever actually managed to procure the lovely Maria? Does he act out this farce every night, “unsuccessfully,” so everyone will know how much he wants to forcibly marry this hot blonde celebrity, but without having to actually go through with it? …No. That would be silly.

It takes Winona an agonizingly long time, as the party follows the fretting Impresario through the lobby, to hit upon the plan: use Celes as a decoy for Maria, allowing Setzer to think he’s succeeded but without putting Maria in harm’s way. “After she’s abducted,” Winona concludes, “I’ll follow ’em right to his airship!” It’s a perfect plan, except for the part where the Impresario doesn’t want to be fired because the opera is “ruined,” and this decoy plan in no way prevents Setzer from going all Phantom of the Opera on the proceedings. It also requires Celes, who is not a singer, to perform instead of Maria, which you’d think would be a non-starter if the Impresario is so concerned about the quality of the show. (I know. I KNOW. But why would the Impresario or anyone else assume that Celes COULD pull this off?) But instead of voicing those concerns, the Impresario hops in place and shouts, “Are you mad!? If something should happen to Maria…” This leads to Winona having to overtly explain what a fucking decoy is, and reminding the Impresario that he himself said Celes looks exactly like Maria. The one fucking thing about this plan that, against all narrative plausibility, does make sense, and he doesn’t get it. We did it! We found someone dumber than our heroes!

And only after Winona–Winona, for crying out loud!–has laid this out A SECOND TIME for the Impresario in tiny, slowly enunciated words does Celes then freak out at what he’s suggesting. Is there some kind of prize available for being the dimmest person in this scene? Or for listening the least? “W…wait!” she finally manages to blurt out, after basically having a seizure in the dressing room hallway. “I’m a GENERAL, not some opera floozy!” Opera…floozy? What kind of operas are they putting on around here? Celes takes off at a sprint toward the dressing room door, smacks straight into it and gives herself a concussion (remember, clumsy!), realizes on the second attempt that doors often have knobs that must be turned to function, and finally storms through the door, out of sight. But a moment later, the group can hear the sounds of Celes practicing on the other side of the door, meaning there’s some text of her singing: “Mii… Mii… Do, re, mi… Faa…hack, cough… Maa…rii aaaa.” Why is she singing “her” own name? Does she think Setzer’s going to test her on this? The mastermind of this brilliant plan listens to this through the door and proceeds to laugh his ass off. “Not bad, CELES!” he lies. This is going to go great.

Setzer must be Christian Grey, because this is some Anastasia Steele shit.

Setzer must be Christian Grey, because this is some Anastasia Steele shit.

It’s possible that, in many years of both experiencing idiotic plots in videogames yourselves and reading about them here, you’ve become desensitized to pixelated characters tying themselves in Gordian knots for no discernible purpose. To wit: “This is dumb,” you’re thinking, “but it could be dumber.” How right you are! The camera pans left from our “The Opera’s the Thing” schemers to another doorway, where fucking Urktros is lurking behind some red curtains. “Mwa, ha, ha! I’ll pretend to be SETZER and foil their little plan!” Sure! That seems like a good use of your and our time, purple octopus chilling in an opera house! Immediately after delivering this shouty monologue–which our heroes cannot hear, though he can hear them just fine–an envelope flies out of Urktros’s blobby bod and lands perfectly behind Gau and Kyan, ignoring walls, physics, and the time it takes to write a letter when you don’t have hands. Sadly for him, Winona declares–his harebrained idea not even a minute old–that it’s “showtime,” and the party and the Impresario file through the door, not sparing this letter a glance. “D’haaaaa! Come on! Read it…!” Urktros whines, as the scene fades to black. You guys. What the fuck?

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We fade back in on the orchestra pit of the opera house, the band playing a percussion-heavy, cymbals-laden bit of “get in your seats” music. Behind the musicians (all of whom appear to be bearded gingers) the stage and curtains glow from color-changing spotlights. The camera pans back from the pit and the lower seating area (ALSO filled with bearded gingers–what the hell) to show the Impresario escorting the male members of the party to some seats on the balcony. The stage goes dark, and suddenly the Impresario is there. He literally just sat down next to Winona, so either he has rocket boots or this is a clone. The one on stage sets the scene: “The West and East were waging war… Draco, the West’s great hero, thinks of his love, Maria.” Oh, so that’s why Celes was singing “Maria.” Except there are no lyrics where she speaks of herself in the third person, so it’s still stupid. “Is she safe? Is she waiting?” he goes on. Hang on, are ladies allowed to do things other than wait for their men who are away at war? I’m pretty sure no other options were in the manual.

As the Impresario (?) walks off the stage, the curtains pull back, showing a backdrop of a cloudy sky glowing at sunset behind some forested hills. Another figure enters, wearing steel plate armor and a purple cape. This must be Draco, and may I just say, I am very glad Winona did not try to write himself into the opera by replacing this actor, the better to “protect” Celes. You know there was a draft where this happened, and it involved a lot of bug-eyes and Winona flipping out because someone says Draco “stole” Maria’s heart. But no sooner has Draco walked to the center of the stage than three soldiers on chocobos stampede through and trample him. Whoops! Did I just say I didn’t want Winona in this role? I take it back.

But as the music swells, Draco just gets up off the ground, like nothing happened, to sing his big solo: “♬ Oh Maria, Oh Maria. Please, hear my voice! How I long to be with you! ♬” I know I said he was singing this, but in practice, Draco’s sprite is laughing in super slow motion while oboe sounds come out of his mouth. Alternatively, he’s a baritone singing “Whuh whuh WHUH whuh, whuh whuh WHUH whuh,” like Charlie Brown’s parents. This is the highest art on the continent.

Back on the balcony, the boys have reseated themselves. More accurately, Kyan and Gau have moved over several seats away from Winona, so either they are making out or Winona farted. Or both! Winona, alone, announces he’s going to the dressing room, while Gau just claps his stupid hands for the “pretty song” and Kyan insists he is trying to relax. Glad to see you’re both so committed to the cause!

After I’ve taken three minutes of wandering around like an idiot to figure out where the exit back to the lobby is (the “door” is just the corner of the back wall), Winona finds Celes in the dressing room, dressed in Maria’s wedding dress, push-up bra, and black hair ribbons. This is going to turn into the “November Rain” video at any moment. Winona takes one look at her and blushes, like she’s normally wearing a burlap sack and is covered in dirt and stink lines. “Aye yai yai!” he gushes. “Izzat…you!?” Shut up, Winona.

'Of course it's me. Maria. Who the hell are you?'

‘Of course it’s me. Maria. Who the hell are you?’

Celes ignores his insincere and sad overreaction to her appearance and asks, seemingly for the millionth time, “WINONA. Why did you help me escape back there?” I’m really glad she isn’t just taking it as a given that this wang is in love with her. Winona, still red in the face because it’s probably face paint he applied when our backs were turned, replies, “I…once abandoned someone when she needed me…” Sweet Jesus. Really? REALLY?! How do you get years to reflect on this series of events and STILL come away with that as the lesson? Unless he’s referring not to Rachel, but to poor Twiggy lying alone and vulnerable in a bed in the penthouse suite of Kleptopolis Tower. Yeah, that happened after he rescued Celes, but it’s not like Winona’s brain is an orderly place. But Celes can keep the plot well enough, and puts together, “Somewhere inside you were saving…her, weren’t you…?” If that’s the case, she’d better make it crystal clear in her will that she does not want to be kept in a state of living death in anyone’s basement. Get multiple witnesses, girl. Winona only says in reply as he leaves the room, “That ribbon suits you.” HURF DURF YOU’RE SO PURTY, DON’T INTERROGATE MY FEELINGS.

This is the worst.