This Week In Retro: Final Fantasy IX (Patreon)

July 7, 2000: How do you prove that we exist…? Maybe we don't exist…

by Diamond Feit

Final Fantasy and I go way back; despite the ominous name, it introduced me to the JRPG genre after Dragon Warrior failed to capture my attention in 1989. Localization delayed both series from arriving in the US until after their sequels had already launched in Japan—multiple sequels in fact. Yet while Enix continued to publish their medieval-themed sword-and-sorcery campaigns worldwide, Square took a "less is more" approach to exporting Final Fantasy. Hence when Final Fantasy IV came to the Super Nintendo in English, it did so under the title Final Fantasy II as if the 8-bit second and third games never happened.

Like most Americans, I had no idea that I missed out on nearly half of Final Fantasy history until 1997's global launch of Final Fantasy VII in all territories as Final Fantasy VII. Selling millions of copies for the PlayStation 1, this sci-fi blockbuster convinced Square to keep the Final Fantasy factory running at full speed and make sure that overseas fans didn't have to wait too long for each new installment.

A major reason for Final Fantasy VII's broad appeal was its cutting edge graphics, ditching the small 2D sprites of the previous games for large, detailed characters made of polygons. Different scenes displayed different models for our heroes, however; in battle Cloud Strife and company looked like adults whereas the overworld and certain cinematics shrunk them down to child-sizes. Final Fantasy VIII avoided this, maintaining the protagonists' grown-up look throughout the game.

25 years ago this week, Square tried a different approach in concluding the PS1 Final Fantasy trilogy. Final Fantasy IX introduced us to a pint-sized cast of cutesy adventurers living in a more magical, less technological world.

The differences between Final Fantasy IX and its two immediate predecessors become apparent from the moment players boot up the game. Final Fantasy VII's iconic intro panned out from a lonely flower girl to reveal a bustling futuristic metropolis. Final Fantasy VIII's attract mode plays a cinematic with more natural scenery but the characters' clothing and that infamous gunblade betray its hi-tech setting.

Yet put in Final Fantasy IX and you're greeted by the gentle sounds of a wind instrument over an old-fashioned map. Images of the primary cast appear with text describing their personal dilemmas, and between the guy with a tail, the armored knight, and the shady fellow wearing a big floppy hat, you can tell none of these people have ever seen a computer.

The opening credits give us a quick glimpse of a young woman inside a castle before the camera zooms in on a great wooden airship, an admittedly fantastic vehicle that has been a Final Fantasy staple since the very first game. This particular vessel belongs to the Tantalus Theater Company, a roving band of air pirates who rob and kidnap people like regular pirates but they do it with more style. Indeed, we watch them conduct a meeting where they outline their latest scheme to put on a show in the kingdom of Alexandria in order to cover their true objective of snatching Princess Garnet from her home.

Final Fantasy IX ditches the pirates to resume the opening credits and jump to their destination, the capital city of Alexandria known as Alexandria. As the title drops,  we meet a new face unrelated to any of the previous bunch. Perhaps "face" is the wrong word since we cannot see his visage; all we get are a pair of eyes peering out from beneath his cap just like the Black Mages of the original 8-bit Final Fantasy.

Final Fantasy IX pulls this trick more than once during the initial hour, giving players an opportunity to play the game as a new character before switching perspectives and introducing a different protagonist. Suffice to say, the pirates' scheme does not go according to plan as the princess wants to flee the castle against the wishes of her personal protector. After a chaotic escape attempt that nearly destroys the Tantalus' airship and a crash landing in the Evil Forest, we eventually settle on a party of four featuring a betailed pirate, a faithful knight, a runaway princess, and a diminutive Black Mage.

While Final Fantasy IX plays similarly to the earlier Final Fantasy games—the Active Time Battle system returns and combat operates according to tradition—a handful of innovations help this ninth mainline entry stand apart. Periodic prompts let players press a button to view Active Time Events, allowing them to witness the actions of other characters (playable or otherwise) happening elsewhere in the world. These moments can flesh out the narrative, serve as tutorials, or offer players a glimpse of locations they will visit in the future.

A new mechanic called Trance replaces the Limit Breaks seen in Final Fantasy VII and VIII, giving characters access to temporary enhancements during combat after a meter fills up in the heat of battle. Once entering the Trance state, the benefits last for a few turns rather than expiring immediately upon use. These include stat bonuses and—depending on the character—new attacks that become available. Black Mages get to cast spells twice per turn while in Trance, a simple yet powerful boon that can swing the tide of an encounter in the player's favor.

Every character has the potential to learn a variety of Abilities, be they magic spells or special skills. Players need to equip the correct gear and commit Ability Points to gradually master each Ability over time. It reminds me of the Materia system from Final Fantasy VII but instead of powering up stones via slots in weapons, the characters develop new innate talents that remain available permanently.

Compared to other Final Fantasys, I feel IX does a commendable job in communicating the basics of gameplay as well as offering an overview of all these new additions. Most software of this era assumed novices would read the manual first before ever putting a cartridge or disc into the console, unlike now when we expect a dedicated tutorial to teach us the ins and outs as we go. Final Fantasy IX takes the time to demonstrate how to interact with the environments, how to fight monsters, and even how to save progress. A dedicated Help button brings up the equivalent of a Windows Tool Tip, outlining the effects of items and the meaning of every menu command.

As noted in my previous writing about Final Fantasy VII, my experience saving that world exhilarated me but it also drained my enthusiasm for the series and the JRPG genre as a whole. I heard good things about Final Fantasy VIII from my friends but couldn't bring myself to dive into another Square epic. When Final Fantasy IX arrived in the year 2000, I saw the olden-times architecture and weirdly homuncular characters and disregarded the game completely.

It didn't help that by the time Final Fantasy IX hit the market, Sony had already released the PlayStation 2. The new console promised to play all PS1 games but that didn't stop us from looking ahead with anticipation rather than looking back at the old console's CD-based library. The announcement that a high-resolution 10th game would come to PS2 the very next year only further convinced me that Final Fantasy IX wasn't worth buying.

25 years of loving declarations for Final Fantasy IX convinced me to rescind my prior dismissal and finally play the game for myself. Fortunately, Square Enix has made it their business to keep as many Final Fantasy games as possible available for purchase on modern platforms, even if some ports have unusual glitches or shortcomings. In those cases, however, fans have stepped up and provided extensive modifications to fix wonky controller support, replace weirdly smooth fonts, and even tweak settings to improve performance.

Sitting down with Final Fantasy IX in 2025, I can see how wrong I was to judge it based on its cover. The short, stumpy characters all have oversized personalities and come from wildly different backgrounds, leading to both clashes and personal growth as they learn to work together. They're not cool like Cloud Strife or Squall Leonhart but that's not reason enough to reject them. Besides, who needs cool when you have an engrossingly awkward character like the aforementioned Black Mage, Vivi.

I'm also surprised by the low stakes of Final Fantasy IX's first act. We see pirates attempt an abduction and a vengeful queen launch a counter-attack, but for a few hours there's very little urgency or even a directive for our protagonists. The princess wants to leave the castle while her bodyguard wants to go back and the other two party members just want to live. Viewed alongside the dramatic openings of Final Fantasy IV, VI, and VII, IX feels downright relaxed.

Am I a convert to the "Final Fantasy IX is the best Final Fantasy" squad? Not yet; the slow-life start and competing demands for my time have kept me from finding out exactly what makes this game so beloved. On the other hand, it says a lot about Final Fantasy IX that this team of misfits has kept me plugging away in absence of a compelling story, because at this point I'm only concerned with Vivi. Will he find the confidence he needs to stand up for himself? Will he find out why multiple enemies look like his distant cousins? And if gains enough levels, will he ever take off his hat? So far my money's on Yes, Yes, and God I Hope Not.

Writer/podcaster/performer Diamond Feit lives in Osaka, Japan but xer work and opinions exist across the internet.