Video scripts available for 2 new upcoming May/June videos (Patreon)

Please note that these are rough drafts that may contain occasional grammar/structure errors and personal notes here and there. 

These will be two of the next uploads, and I'm very proud of how both are turning out.

Erwin Smith - A Pure Heart (Attack on Titan) (Working Title)

— 

Dub - Air-vin (Leaning towards this*)

“I have a dream. One I’ve had since I was a child.” 3x5 17-18 mins.

—  

Perseverence in the face of genuine near hopelessness is easy to talk about, but deceptively difficult to comprehend the full essence of in the worst of times. It takes a nearly inhuman, demonic resolve to keep holding on when everything tells you to give up, and that sentiment is something that words often fail to capture the significance of.

But in a caged world devoid of honesty and surrounded by darkness, one where you need to sacrifice hundreds of lives for the prospect of potentially gaining a millimeter, what can possibly motivate you on to keep going? A world where the current hell doesn’t exist. Liberty from all things - from the constant looming threat of death, primarily, but also from systematic oppression. Bringing forth a society that is free and right, one that doesn’t force people to avert their eyes from simple truth, nor punish them for being born into it. A future where humanity thrives and survives. And in the midst of the endless cycle of conflict that is the story of Attack on Titan, there is no greater cause than that.

Yet, in this setting, there is no way to break that chain without force and bloodshed, and no path towards that outcome that is not comprised of corpses. So the leaders of this uprising need be possessed of the fortitude to bear all the sins of the world, to accept hate and pain and misery, and continue onwards anyway. But what kind of person would be suited for that? Who on earth would not flinch at that sort of burden and responsibility? The short answer is someone fueled and possessed by a purpose beyond reckoning, something deeper and more powerful than pure duty. The long answer is a bit more complicated.

—

“Everyone needed to be drunk on something to keep moving on.” Kenny quote. (With Erwin flashes)

—

Even as a young boy, Erwin Smith constantly questioned the things posed to him and was never satisfied with accepting information that didn’t feel right at face value. When provided with knowledge about the walls and world around him by his teacher and father, something didn’t seem to add up - and he was not the type of person to let this sort of thing lie. So he pursued the truth from his father, who, outside of his discretion in the classroom, shared that he believed that those in power were capable of falsifying collective memories, covering things up and teaching incomplete and misdirecting information to their people to hide the genuine nature of society. Not fully understanding the weight of these accusations, Erwin shared these theories with his classmates, which lead to the clear assassination of his father by the government in order to keep things quiet.

And this awoke something within him to compliment his already vibrant longing for sincerity. Spurred on by guilt, Erwin’s mission in life became proving his father’s theory correct. The idea of that legacy became his obsession, and his heart pleaded for him to discover the truth of the world. But while his pursuit of this dream is undoubtedly entrenched in self-interest, it also happened to coincide with one of his other desires - freedom for humanity. A cause that is greater than any one person or one mission - the far-off fantasy of a world where simply seeking knowledge as his father did wouldn’t lead to being silenced in the worst possible way.

Transparency, prosperity, and liberation from the threat of the titans - and perhaps, from others - from what he viewed to be the real enemy. These two goals contrast one another in terms of the minute specifics and how they apply to Erwin, but they coalesce beautifully. It’s a combination of selfishness and selflessness, and the spirit of his father’s will is very much a part of any action that benefits humanity as well, so Erwin yearns for all of this so desperately that he’s possessed by a primal defiance and rage. And due to the unbelievable difficulty of this task, advancement towards this became his lifeblood - each bit of progress that gave the smallest taste of potential salvation was exhilirating, because it was a taste that mankind scarcely ever experienced before, and more importantly, it was one small step towards validating his father.

But this progress could never be achieved without monumental loss and sacrifice, and this is something Erwin understood from the start. The one to lead these people kicking and screaming would have to accept the darkness of this task, embrace it, and optimize it. So while clearly caring deeply for the soldiers that pledged their lives to his cause, he became a demon, sacrificing people and selling lies to help humanity inch forward. To combat this darkness, he had to embody this darkness. And he didn’t want to do this, because that’s not at all the type of person he was. But those who are unable to abandon anything cannot change anything, and he took on that burden and kept pushing in tribute of the souls of those who passed, with his father always at the forefront. Erwin became a brilliant strategist, making decisions that no one else had the courage to make, planning ahead and gambling lives with bold yet calculated risks. Calm when he needed to be, impassioned and inspirational when necessary, every death with a purpose. But he never took this lightly and always felt the weight of his decisions, which is absolutely vital because this weight represents the value of the cause he fights for in the first place. Yet he never alliowed this to avert his eyes from the ultimate goal, a synthesis of both his responsibility, and his dream.

But while I describe these two aspects as nearly synonymous, they aren’t entirely so. Because there are certain points in the story where making steps towards learning the truth of everything and making steps to securing humanity’s victory seemed to not be compatible with one another. At times, Erwin’s one path split and his two driving motivations became mutually exclusive, so he had to prioritize. And it is in these moments where we see what his number one goal is, the thing his heart longs for more than anything.

—

“I must be there for the moment where we learn the truth of the world. It’s more important than humanity.” S3E13, 9-10 min

—

Here, he doubts that what he wants personally is what’s best for humanity - but what he does know is that they’re best for his dream, and that Eren’s basement represents his entire life’s work. He needs to be there to witness this, and that spurs him on. So in this sense, his selfishness overpowers his selflessness and he doesn’t flinch or hesitate to put the Survey Corps at a disadvantage.

While he seeks prosperity for mankind, the thing that drives him most is not a hope for humanity’s survival, but his ultimate dream. Again, it’s those little tastes of it that inspire him to keep going. It’s an almost childlike fixation, and the times in which he imagines a reality with that mystery solved and the times where he gets closer to it are a genuinely joyful respite for him. Almost as if he is getting the rare chance to allow that idealistic young boy who had his childhood stolen from him resurface and feel for a brief moment (S2E12), before once again steeling himself for the next struggle. 

Yet, ironically, perhaps without that selfish drive, he wouldn’t have been able to take everyone as far as he did. It’s this furious determination borne out of a monstrous need that drags people forward, so a leader without this special drive who thought only for the good of humanity may not have been able to go this far. There is a duality to him and his desire to carry forward the wills of his fallen comrades is unbelievably strong too, but unadulterated responsibility without a selfish dream may not have been as strong and powerful as Erwin’s fixation. And that is why his conflict during the Return to Shiganshina is so devastating.

—

“It’s so close..” End of S3P2E4. (alter placing of this if needed)

—

Given his priorities, the full scale of his intentions, and his willingness to charge into the belly of the beast, his purpose was always unlikely to be one that he served in the long term. Erwin was tailor-made to live and rage and fight in this pocket of history, to have his rebellion recognized, screaming out to stimulate his comerades to carry on his legacy. And he made himself heard. At times a devil, at times a hero, but always a commander, always driving humanity, himself and his father’s soul towards the truth and the key to breaking this oppression. His existence was consistently a painful one only made worthwhile to him by tiny moments of joy and the potential of a pure dream that he never got to reach, and Erwin only came to be this way because of the sad nature of war. And everything surrounding his fixation on this dream - what he did to try to reach it, how he centered everything around it and put life and limb at risk to try to grab hold of it - all of this is why Levi laid him to rest. But him allowing Levi to make the decision speaks volumes of his selfless nature - how much he valued the spirit of what his father strived for, and what he was willing to do for his duty when it came right down to it.

While his dream was stated to be the biggest influence in his decisions and thoughts, his actions instead tell a story of a man who constantly put his life, and thus, his chance to learn the truth, on the line for the betterment of his people. Some of these calculated risks, some of these genuine sacrifices. But the most telling sacrifice was here against the beast titan - when faced with the possibility of total defeat, he comes up with a plan for humanity’s benefit through potentially killing it and gaining a titan power, at the likely expense of himself. But for that to happen, it would mean that he’d never learn the secrets of the basement. And here he weighs the importance of his dream, his father’s legacy embodied through him, with the overall significance of the cause that he has consistently championed his entire career.

And despite his so-called selfishness, he can’t choose. This indecision speaks volumes, because it is clear that if he were totally self-interested, he’d want to live to fight and reach the basement another day. But he can’t just forego his duty for that, he can’t just disregard the hopes and weight of the fallen. So he is torn, and while he said himself that humanity is not as important as his dream, this internal stalemate in itself is an example of his commitment to mankind being ABOVE his own wishes when the stakes were at their highest. He is able to have Levi choose for him, and in the end, there is a small look of peace on his face, satisfied with his role in this fight in despite of him turning away from his foremost endeavor. Those who cannot abandon anything cannot change anything. And so Erwin abandons the one thing that pushed him onwards for a chance at freedom for those who would carry the torch for him. He gives it up, and it’s one of the most admirable things a person could ever do.

But from Levi’s perspective, it was also an understandable decision to make. Erwin never really looked beyond the idea of the basement. It was his drug, and when all seemed to close in around him and when he began falling into despair, he’d think about that key and it allowed him to push onwards. But there’s only so far that someone can go when their experiences make it so that they’re dependent on these short-term fumes. There’s only so much misery they can bear. Without Erwin Smith - not just without someone like him, but without him specifically - the Scouts would not have gone nearly as far and there would have been no progress. But war makes it so that people of pure obsession willing to lay everything out on the line rarely ever make it to the end, and so his legacy and advocation of truth was passed on through his comrades. And in that way, he can glean some sense of satisfaction and peace from that. In that way, Levi does him a kindness, and he wholeheartedly appreciates the prospect of a quiet repose.

And while it is true Levi’s second monumental choice, the decision to save Armin, once again relinquishes a second chance for Erwin to reach the basement, it’s a decision made with utmost thought. The commander’s short-termism and readiness to bear everything made him become a devil in the eyes of many. Against his will, he bore this terrible burden for what seemed like an eternity - and as Levi puts it, once he had been free from this hell, they wanted to bring him back. But would he have really wanted all of that, in his heart of hearts? The most fitting reward for Erwin’s sacrifice here was not the chance to sacrifice even more and aimlessly push forward after achieving his goal, but the honour of being able to rest. And possibly, being forgiven. In contrast, Armin is someone who always looked at the world and saw possibility. He allowed himself to reach further and further beyond the walls to a horizon of idealism. He had dreams of immense scale that could never be shaken, and those dreams would fuel him post-basement in a way that threw Erwin’s agonizing struggle into sharp focus. Again, Erwin impacted this specific pocket of history, and his life began and ended with this idea even in spite of his sacrifice being nearly altruistic. Armin’s potential reached beyond truth, beyond anyone’s reckoning. And that idealism is something that cannot be valued enough.

In a sense, allowing such an idealistic asset to humanity to continue and fight on is a near perfect extrapolation of Erwin’s decision to let Levi tell him to die. It is the logical outcome and it is done in the spirit of Erwin’s ultimate decision to put his duty ahead of everything else. In a world past the basement, aiming for something in the beyond is what is necessary. It is one seamless, continuous decision carried through in that way, a selfless one, where Erwin put his dream to rest for the future of mankind. A fitting end to a man of endless significance and impressiveness.

Once of my favourite scenes in the entirety of the series is the one immediately prior to the mission in Shiganshina, where the public passionately laud our protagonists and wish them luck and success on their journey. The importance of this for all involved is unbelievable, but none moreso than Erwin. The Survey Corps have been mocked and derided for most of their existence. Their high death tolls and consistent failures meant that they were a constant target for public vitriol, frustration and negativity. And Erwin knew that this would happen from the start and resigned himself to it for the sake of his goal, but that doesn’t mean that he was infallible or incapable of feeling pain at this hate. Because while he became this symbol of near invincible perseverence, everything about him was always genuinely human. Despite never flinching, he was still hurt beyond reckoning by the burden he took on, and I think this is most obvious through the roar of passion and jubilation here.

Erwin was under no illusion - he never intended to become a universal hero and knew that it wasn’t a possibility. But in this moment, he is one. He’s loved by the people, and they support them all wholeheartedly. He’s never experienced anything close to a moment like this before, and he knows he never will agaIn. So he takes full advantage and savours all of it.

—

(Erwin cheer) S3E12

—

It’s a beautiful thing, because moments like these ensured that his life, while clearly monumental for the uprising of the oppressed, was not a meaningless, joyless waste for him personally. And along with his satisfaction in passing his father’s torch on to Levi and the others, these sorts of things gives me hope that he found some semblance of fulfillment in his existence. Fittingly, Erwin Smith was a man who found his own solace, happiness and exhiliration in small bursts to push himself on.. until the end, where, inches from his nirvana, he relinquished everything for the benefit of all. He shaped history, and his impact can never be overstated. Many thanks for watchiung.

—

“Can you possibly forgive him?” 3x18 end

AND/OR

“Levi. Thank you.” S3P2E4

—

“End with his sad, satisfied look.”

The Flawed Beauty of Barret Wallace (Final Fantasy VII Remake)

—  

FInal Fantasy VII Remake begins at full throttle - with the iconic view of the living and breathing city of Midgar transitioning into the speeding train that takes the player to their destination - the facility known as reactor one, the target for the eco-terrorist group named Avalanche. It’s a pulsating and rich start to the game - immediately throwing Cloud into a dangerous mission while sparing no time to acclimatize the player to the sweeping setting and the thematic pinnings of the story. And the character spearheading this mission with a fervent, unrelenting head of steam is the leader of this rag tag crew, a man by the name of Barret Wallace.

In the very beginning, Barret comes off as what seems like a personification of the feel of this first mission. Seemingly cold, all business, rough and tough, carrying a huge focused purpose and fully aware of the magnitude of this task. But even before the job is completed, some cracks begin to show and after just a little bit of familiarity with the man, it becomes clear that his true essence lies elsewhere. And it is within these cracks where the beauty of this character truly shines.

The presentation of Barret is what I consider to be among the greatest triumphs of the Remake. He had a very clear direction in the original game, and those behind the writing and execution of the character this time around had a brilliant understanding of who he is and how important he is to the messages of the narrative, with the direction, voice acting and prioritization fully capitalizing on his purpose.

And with regards to that purpose - to put it very bluntly, Barret is a pretender. He is naive, unintentionally hypocritical, tunnel-visioned, and in way over his head. The man has a pretty great amount of bullish charisma and his heart is definitely in the right place, so it makes sense that he can gather like-minded people for his cause and inspire them to rebel. But it’s just so blindingly obvious that he’s not capable of seeing the full picture, at least in the beginning. And the game absolutely communicates that in a very honest way through how it characterizes him. Barret’s personality is consistently very loud, showy and angry, lots of huff and puff, with so much of his energy devoted to being enraged at Shinra. But a lot of this is an embodiment of all bark no bite. He spews a ton of hot air, but when it gets down to the genuine nitty gritty, we see that the tough guy persona is really a fragile mask. The real Barret is someone who is compassionate and caring, someone who appreciates connection, and someone who is deeply hurt and doesnt want to get hurt again for reasons that are not yet made clear in this first part - I mean, we still don’t know why he has a gun for a hand.

But what that basically manifests in is a guy who has very little when it comes to methodology or plans, yet talks the talk anyway - he cares about the planet and cares about protecting those he loves, but he’s so full of anger that he thrusts himself headfirst into things and he really doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into. And it’s a lot to handle, a ton of characterization and personality shoved into the player’s face right away, so it’s understandable that his attitude may annoy some. But I personally find it great, fitting and quite sad because it’s what he has to do to maintain his perception of control and authority, even though it’s clear that he has no idea of the scale of his ambitions, nor the intricacies of the truths of the world. 

Barret is able to spark his plan into life with some simple logic - Destroy the reactors to stop Shinra from damaging the planet by sucking out its life force. Cut off Shinra, save the planet from being harmed any further, and stop the cycle that perpetuates such poor living conditions for those not in the highest echelons of the societal hierarchy. It makes sense, but it fails to acknowledge the long reaching consequences of that in a society totally dominated by the benefits of mako energy. You can’t just pull the rug out from the crux of what allows Midgar to function and not expect societal, economic and emotional disaster. He’s aware that it won’t be easy or painless, but he’s so lost in his goal that he can’t allow himself to be receptive to the idea that Avalanche’s plans are flawed or harmful. Barret only thinks instinctively here, guided by his heart and gut, and this recklessness coming from a man as genuinely fragile and sensitive as him verges on self-condemnation. 

The bombing of Reactor 1 is what I would consider to be one of the strongest opening sections of any video game I’ve played, and its also a brilliant encapsulation of who Barret in a nutshell is if you pay attention to the subtle little ways his mask slips, the ways he acts in different situations. As I mentioned, to start, he’s very cool and calm, outwardly aggressive but maintaining a distinct aura of control. But.. that really doesn’t last long. Right in the beginning, he tells Cloud that he’s watching him closely, insinuating that he doesn’t trust him. We progress a little, and he repeats this, saying that if Cloud makes one false move, he won’t hesitate to shoot him dead. But Jessie just says to just bear with him, implying that this is just bluster. And true enough, a few minutes later, Barret is joking around and bantering with the guy he just explicitly said he doesn’t trust at all. 

—

“1 year old?”

—

It’s clear that Barret is quick to get attached and trusts people, and this gives an impression of a guy who wears his heart on his sleeve and cares more than he lets on, which definitely proves to be the case. And to look at another crack - just before this, he lectures Cloud and Jessie in the elevator in what is a great expositional scene to teach the player about society, Shinra and Mako in case they were unfamiliar. He goes on about how terrible it is that Shinra is sucking the Mako out of the planet and hurting it for their gain, and he says this must be stopped. And Jessie’s exasperation keys us into the idea that this is a familiar thing, a sort of speech that Barret clearly repeats over and over. This shows that he is one-minded and somewhat insecure - his desire is pure-hearted and his intentions are good, because clearly Shinra are in the wrong, but he feels the need to spout these same angry speeches again and again to almost justify himself to others, to give the illusion of true full-picture knowledge and confidence, when in reality, he doesn’t have either of those things, not really. And then by extension, one can hypothesize that maybe he does this to amp himself up and help him follow through. Regardless, the insinuation that this is an annoying habit of Barret’s is a great way to communicate exposition while being natural and consistent with characterization.

However, when the party finally makes it to the core of the reactor, the mask slips once again and lends us even more insight, as Barret finds himself visibly and seriously shaken up now that he’s faced with the real goal of the mission - the actual planting of the bomb. The act that will cause a true stir in Midgar.

—

“Him uneasy around the reactor”

—

He snaps back at Cloud and says it’s excitement, but he’s not fooling anyone. And his faux-confident “LETS DO THIS” is not the utterance of someone who is secure and ready, but of a man who is anxious and telling himself that he can and needs to do it. Hell, he even forces Cloud to plant the bomb for him because he doesn’t want to bear the responsibility himself.

—

“Him forcing Cloud to plant the bomb”

__

When confronted with the gravity of what is actually being done, Barret quakes. He has trouble handling it, and he isn’t prepared. And he flits in and out between letting this anxiety and naivety show, and correcting himself with his rhetoric, but it’s crystal clear. 

These little touches of characterization that the remake executed so well substantiate Barret a ton. And then there’s my favourite of the bunch right after the mission concludes, where he shows genuine concern for the merc he supposedly doesn’t trust.

—

“I was worried about you!” I mean.. where the hell were you.. 

—

It’s this aspect of the character, this heart and vulnerability that we see through the cracks of his persona, that makes him so endearing. It may be initially surprising to newcomers to see that he has a little daughter whom he lovingly dotes upon, but in retrospect and given the little hints planted through the first chapter, it’s totally consistent and it all makes sense.

—

“Barret with marlene.”

—

And while I point to the first mission as an example of showcasing Barret’s characterization, this is consistently done throughout the rest of the game as well. This is who he is. Someone who cares wholeheartedly and wants to change the world and heal the pain of the planet. Someone who wants his child to grow up safe and happy. But tragically, he’s also someone who is not equipped to do that as he is now. Underneath the emotionless and cold sunglasses hide Barret’s incredibly kind eyes, eyes full of love and good intent. This is the crux of why him feeling the harsh reality of his flaws hits with such impact. He sees a broken world and wants to try his best to fix it, but finds out the hard way that he just didn’t have the means or knowledge to do it. Not yet.

The gravity of Shinra’s power, the truth of how much of an insignificant ant Avalanche and Barret truly are, and the reality of the world are all shown when the plate drops. Just like that, his home, his loved ones and comrades, everything is destroyed. And Barret, heartfelt as he is, feels all of it. The grief and frustration. But what hurts almost as badly is the nagging feeling, maybe in his subconscious but undoubtedly present, that Tifa voices.

—

“We did this.” 

—

He denies it, but you get the impression that it’s borne more out of desperation than genuine belief. Barret feels a guilt here, because while they sure as hell didn’t deserve what they got, the conduct of the group was reckless and Avalanche’s operations put them at risk. Just as things were in the depths of reactor 1, Barret really didn’t feel the full scale, weight and ramifications of his actions until it got right down to the most serious stuff. But while he is mistaken about a lot of things, the one thing he knows for sure that is reinforced here is that those in charge of Shinra are genuinely evil. And with this anger imprinted on his heart, he bears this and will use it to propel himself forward - having learned his mistake.

—

“Hold on to this.”

—

Marlene being alive is what saves him from true despair, but at this point in the story, Barret is suddenly struck with the brutal reality that he may have subconsciously felt, but was always able to ignore up until now. The reality that he can’t just charge in and hope everything will be alright. That his actions have consequences, and that this is all a very delicate situation that cannot be solved without thinking properly.

Yet, if you’ll allow me to backtrack, the story of this game has alluded to this sense of complexity and nuance. And a primary way in which it communicates this is through such an emphasis on the trickling societal bi-products of the reactor bombings that provide such matters to ponder. There is of course the hesitancy and conflict the members of Avalanche feel at their actions - Jessie being clearly bothered by the huge effect her bombs apparently had and wondering if she was at fault for using the wrong blasting agent, Tifa saying that she doesn’t approve of these methods, or Biggs not being able to stop himself from shaking even when the crew were on the train home. But even more significant is that we see the everyman, the human perspective from the reaction to the bombing on the streets. People viewing the wreckage, scared of losing their jobs and livelihoods. People fearing for their families, crying out of terror, horrified due to the prospect of this unknown threat. From the player’s perspective, this doesn’t feel triumphant as Barret exclaimed it would be, and it doesn’t feel like much is being accomplished other than causing misery to combat misery. 

Avalanche did not at all intend to cause the damage that happened at reactor 1, and a great deal of the wreck is due to Shinra self-destructing and exacerbating the situation in order to paint Avalanche as vile terrorists with worse intentions than they actually had. The plan was to bomb the reactor, but the explosions were tailored to disable it and cause minimal damage. So the party are stunned and disturbed by the damage caused, believing that this can’t be them.. and then wondering if it was. The fact is, Avalanche were not directly at fault for all of this wreckage, but this disaster would not have happened if they didn’t try to bomb the reactor. They were getting involved with evil, powerful people who were not afraid of causing extreme collateral damage in order to suit their own needs, and our protagonists’ actions set off dominos in a much larger picture than they imagined. So in that sense, they must take responsibility for their actions.

This doesn’t mean that they needed to stop or bear all of the blame for this, but they needed to be made aware of the full scale of Shinra’s power and of how their actions could affect others. They didn’t know that Shinra caused a great deal of the disaster, and they believed that it was somehow due to them. They weren’t comfortable with this, and that includes Barret - he hates seeing this pain. But he barrels ahead anyway without a second thought - disregarding complicity in service of the greater good, and refusing to acknowledge the complexity of this issue. Shinra must indeed be defeated, but it is foolish to take on an entity with their strength in the way Avalanche is doing and believe that it’ll all work out in the end.

Barret says all the right things on paper after this bombing to rally his troops and raise their spirits, and it works, but it’s only a temporary respite from these nagging feelings that creep back. They do believe that they’re doing the right thing, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel quite right. 

And the tone of this scene is cleverly ironic, with the ominous music, the fires, the screams and cries as the backdrop all contrasting the would-be feel good and empowering speech from Barret and telling a story of their own. Although this isn’t a clean process and was never going to be easy, the innocent people part of the population that Avalanche vowed to be doing this for are in pain. And that in itself allows doubt to take root. This is a group of decent people with great intentions, but they’re just ignorant, lead by a man with only a semblance of a genuine plan. And then in addition to that nuanced human societal perspective from those on the streets who offer a counterargument to Barret’s proclamations, there are also people at Shinra, the so called entirely evil entity that Barret opposes, who make this situation even more gray.

Because throughout and especially near the beginning and end of the game, we get the perspective of Shinra employees that are just regular, good, and even helpful, people. After Reactor 1, we see Shinra medical staff, emergency first responders and firefighters doing their utmost to reduce the severity of the bombing and to help the public. Of course, those on top of Shinra no doubt view these employees, likely part of Public Safety, to be a necessity for maintaining a good public image and keeping things running smoothly, but it would be overly cynical to doubt the sincerity of those actually out there helping. And then during the infiltration of Shinra HQ, the party is exposed to a great number of office employees, people simply doing their jobs who have no ill intent, and no knowledge or perspective of the sins of their superiors. And of course it’s not a surprise that these people exist, because a place like Midgar simply cannot run without these sorts of individuals doing these sorts of things, but actually seeing them instead of just knowing they’re a part of the world is impactful. You truly see the subtlety here, that Shinra as an entity isn’t pure evil and that the world is more complicated than that. This obviously isn’t to say that Shinra isn’t wrong, because the planet sure as hell needs to be free of their tyrranical rule. But it’s far from a cut and dry issue with a simple solution due to the layers of depth established through adding shades of gray to the offshoots of Shinra, and by contemplating the struggles of those affected by Avalanche’s actions. 

It’s a huge thematic note in the story of both this game and the original - that things really aren’t as simple as Barret tries to force himself to believe they are. And the remake adds an incredibly telling and important scene to the end-game section that demonstrates that Shinra is indeed run by some evil people who must be stopped, but that the methods Barret chooses to do this with make him an embodiment of that which he condemns.

—

“Elevator scene at Shinra.”

—

In one of the very best scenes in the game, Barret retreats to his tendency of preaching to convince others and especially himself that things are simple - because it just makes it all easier. And while he did have a huge point of realization of his naivety after the plate dropped, it totally makes sense that he hasn’t suddenly changed his mind and realized that he is to blame for things as well. In fact, it is very human and logical that his views on Shinra would be reinforced, that his black and white mentality would become even blacker and whiter, and that he would blame them even more and himself even less, because the alternative is.. horrifying. It’s just what humans do as they struggle to cling to possibilities that are easier to accept than reality. When people find their ideals to be challenged, in response they push back even harder out of fear of being wrong. And that is what Barret does here - in response to seeing decent people working for Shinra, in response to being shown first hand that he bit off more than he could chew. Unwilling to bend, but close to breaking.

What’s most beautiful about this scene is that the way Barret phrases these things can actually be applied to himself. “A good man who serves a great evil is not without sin. He must recognize and accept his complicity.” Now, while Barret is not serving a great evil in the way the Shinra employees serve their uppers, he is undoubtedly having his cake and eating it too by turning a blind eye to the pain that he has caused and refusing to acknowledge it in the service of some greater good. Right now, while it is clear that he knows on some level that he has true flaws and blame, he refuses to engage with and confront that idea. And so he does not accept his own complicity, he has not recognized his own sin - but he says that others must recognize their own. He has not yet fully opened his eyes to the truth of his own misdeeds.

Barret has essentially fooled himself into believing his own shallow rhetoric without understanding his own hypocrisy - or rather, he’s trying to fool himself. But what’s key here is that we know that by this point, his own words here don’t tell the full story with regards to him. We know that he’s a good man, and that the true disaster he’s partly at fault for weighs on his mind. This stark and simple defiance from him is a form of denial, and this is an awesome scene to capture the irony of his character at this point. 

At a subconscious level, it’s a profound amount of self-loathing due to how this little speech reflects a mirror on himself. Yet, this increased defiance ironically shows that he is beginning to understand, and he is surrounded by the type of people who will help support him through anything he needs help with. 

It would be easy if everything was as Barret believed it was, but this world just isn’t like that. And he is slowly beginning to realize this. As a character, he is a great display of the complexity of one of the primary themes and conflicts of the game in this way, but this only resonates so much because there is much more light humanity to him. And it all comes back to that sense of heart and soul I mentioned. He is so fundamentally flawed, but all of that stems from the fact that he cares so deeply and opens himself up like no one else. After all, how quickly did he warm up to Cloud, despite his statements to the contrary? How telling is it that he was willing to risk his life for Aerith, whom he had never met, as soon as he realized that she saved Marlene?

The somewhat hidden cutscene with Cloud prior to rescuing Aerith is a great example of who he is at heart, showing how invested he is in those who fight with him and how much he shoulders their hopes and dreams. He tells his troops at the beginning of the game that he won’t hesitate to share their burden and carry their loads, and his is one hundred percent genuine. He is a kind soul who can’t help but love with all he has, and he can’t stand to see the people and planet he loves so much get hurt. So he feels a need to protect. And he didn’t have the experience, perspective, and self-understanding to properly achieve his goal and cleanse this world early on. But maybe the events in this first part have given him the means to do just that going forward. Because even after all of his pain, he acknowledges that it’s now their job to carry on the wills of those who have perished, and he accepts this burden with open arms.

As I mentioned, there are gaps in Barret’s story that we are not yet aware of with just this first part. We don’t exactly know why he has such rage at Shinra, why he’s so protective of the planet, or why he is taking care of Marlene, who doesn’t seem to actually be related to him by blood. But we understand the core of who he is because of those motivations - that core comprised of a great deal of compassion, and a desire for a healthy world for the planet itself and those that inhabit it.

Barret doesn’t actually progress a huge amount in part one, and his journey has only just started. He hasn’t change much about his outward attitude, and most of what he goes through is about setting the foundation for future change and shifting his internal psychology on a somewhat subconscious level. But the hints are there that he can become a better, smarter and more productive person. 

He’s taken steps on the path towards turning his raw rage and good intentions into something more focused and pragmatic. And he’s going to make this world better - not through the rough etchings of a haphazard plan, but through carefully considering the responsibility he bears and acting with honest conviction. All for a better world. Striving forward towards a brighter future, with a refocused goal and friends to share the load with. Many thanks for watching.

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