Infinite Undiscovery for the Xbox 360 is Better Than You've Heard

Infinite Undiscovery's dithering protagonist resembles the sort of reluctant hero you'd love to slap. He absorbs insults like a punching bag but never punches back. He can't keep his neck straight or his fingers out of his hair, like a guy who's always reaching for a paper sack to pull over his face. He's able to skewer enemies with more aplomb than any of his battle-seasoned companions, but crumples under the withering warmth of a compliment. He's a hit with the ladies, but tactless on the small talk. It's a joke that goes on and on and finally peters out about halfway through tri-Ace's disarmingly winsome and fascinating tale about a madman who's somehow shackled the moon with sky-scraping chains and the band of heroes crisscrossing the planet to sunder them.

That's okay. It's an easy cliche to shake off. After all, these games are full of them. The diffident outsider turned hesitating leader. The "everyone's under 17" and saving the world thing. Potions and herbs and scrolls (oh my!). Chatting up people twice who'll just repeat the second phrase forever. The 50-50 chance one of your teammates will turn out to be Really Really Evil (a corollary to this involves sprouting gigantic batwings and orating like Tim Curry in Legend). Walking into houses and rifling through people's stuff. Getting rescued by an outlaw band in a forest. Checking off stops on a climatological tour, from grassy tundras and snow fields to desert dunes and verdant jungles (all, of course, an easy day's walk from each other). And of course, the gracelessly gonging "absolute power corrupts absolutely" theme.

How's the actual game fare? Not too shabby. It skews action-heavy, with real-time battles and button-tapping combos that render encounters with enemies mostly boisterous FX-laden light shows (some have grumbled about slowdown here, but it's rarely noticeable). One button triggers quick attacks, another power attacks, and you can tap either a few times to pull of combos. While your basic "quick" and "power" attacks stay the same throughout, you can unleash battle skills by holding down A or B to launch enemies into the air or hurl them to the ground. Oh yeah, it's one of those games where the characters shout their moves during execution, so you'll hear stuff like "Crescendo Spike!" and "Diminuendo Drive!" every bloomin' time the hero pulls off his or her signature ability. Some people love that stuff, others can't stand it. Notice served.

You tend to pinball between towns or cities separated by vast monster-filled tracts, either fighting sparingly or going for broke and gathering miscellaneous flora by mapping every last nook and cranny. Ritual fantasy fare like giant birds and wolves or harpies and goblins sit around waiting for you to engage them, then re-spawn moments after you've slaughtered them, so if you're looking for grind time, you can do laps in these areas to snag loot and level up. Pretty conventional, I know.

The game attempts to distinguish itself by introducing a "connect" tool that lets you partner with a party member and enable their combos to dovetail with yours. The upside occurs when you change the game quick-tactics mediator from "free" independent actions to "combo" and simply wail on opponents in focused formations. The downside (that should have been an upside, because the underlying logic's smart enough) involves using "connect skills" -- special abilities unique to each character you can personally assume control of. It works well enough when an ability's automatic, say a magic spell that targets and executes without special control tactics. But when it comes to aiming at targets with a party member's ranged weapon, something you'll occasionally have to do on a timer, you're dropped into a first-person crosshairs view that feels awkward and jumpy because you're spending 99 percent of the game in third-person mode. Worse, the protagonist simply freezes until you've dropped out of a "connect" mode action, making him a zombie patsy for enemy attacks (why doesn't the game assume control and keep him at least defensively swinging?).

Fighting would get old in a hurry if tri-Ace didn't keep you guessing. Instead of front-loading all its to-dos, Infinite Undiscovery spreads tactical party functionality and several types of mini-games across the entire experience. Early on, for instance, you're taught a few basic stealth mechanics (the artificial intelligence is capable of discerning both directional and decibel-varied noises). Sneak up on an enemy and you get a temporary attack bonus, or, conversely, take a surprise knife in the back and the enemy gets an interim edge over you. As you travel you'll gather dozens of nondescript items you can build into foodstuff, weapons, and armor (so long as you have the proper "item creator" in your party). The protagonist wields a flute that increases party stats or lets him "perceive" hidden nooks. It's eventually possible to imbue party members with temporary stat boosts by bestowing item-based enchantments. You can form up to three independent parties with the game's considerable cast of characters) and even fight alongside them during certain sequences (though, sadly, you can't tactically interact with them). A party-based mini-game crops up halfway through that grades your performance after certain battles.

So what's an Infinite Undiscovery? Beats me. Another poorly translated Japanese title? Probably. I know tri-Ace wanted to make a game that rewarded unscripted probing. The manual has a section near the end that reads "discover the undiscoverable" and encourages you to "mix it up." Does it succeed? Sort of. There's certainly plenty to tease out, even if all the "discoveries" taken individually feel a little shallow. And the titular mechanic -- using using the "connect" menu to walk every single party member around town and chat up every denizen to earn different responses -- is also the single most annoying. Who wants to play "tell me something different" for hours on end just to get a handful of side quests that amount to tedious item errands?

Still, I want to keep playing this game. Where's the next chain battle going to be? Why does the protagonist look just like the game's legendary hero? How'd this Dread Knight dude manage to enslave the moon? Why do some people receive power-wielding lunar glyphs while others (the "unblessed") don't? And just what the heck's under that great big ball of twine in the sky, anyway? With questions like those and more, Infinite Undiscovery's held me captive, shortcomings and all. Am I just starving for a decent JRPG since Final Fantasy XIII keeps getting pushed back?

Maybe. But I can say I feel as generally affectionate toward Infinite Undiscovery as I did Lost Odyssey and Folklore and Eternal Sonata, all three games I'd rank "above average." Don't buy it expecting Final Fantasy, in other words, and it'll probably tide you over.

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