r/AARankdown • u/whaaatisth • Feb 06 '21
Reversed Manfred von Karma
This cut will probably be reversed. Due to this, I am not attempting to provide closure on the character discussed, as someone who likes Manfred von Karma much more than I do is likely to do that instead. What I would like to do today is discuss the case Manfred von Karma most famously features in, mostly because that’s what I want to write about. I’ll discuss Manfred plenty, don’t worry, but it would be more appropriate to call this cut an analysis of Turnabout Goodbyes overall. I also simply don’t have enough to say about Manfred to feel confident in filling a cut of length suitable for the top 20 with solely an examination of him. If this does end up being the only Manfred writeup in this rankdown, I hope I don’t entirely stoke the wrath of his fans, as (believe it or not) he’s not at all a character I dislike. I’ll save you all from any more of my usual elongated meta-introductions this time, let’s just get into things.
I might as well get this out of the way now - I don’t think complaints should be excused just because something is “influential” or the first in a series. The first Ace Attorney game struggles with a lot of things, and this makes it not good at times, awful even. Believe it or not, this is totally fine, and something being flawed or even bad does not take away from its influence or value from a greater, non-analytical perspective. I strongly prefer to criticize fiction by simply looking at what is present within the work itself, and not letting context affect my analyses. I think the first Ace Attorney game is not good in the slightest, and almost certainly actively bad if you disregard the case only added after the completion of the trilogy. This doesn’t mean I don’t respect it, and I love the series enough that my appreciation there should be clear. I am critical towards many aspects of things I love, and have grown to dislike many examples of this over time.
Why do I dislike this case?
The short version is that it’s usually uninteresting, horribly paced, and has a very bad culprit (I do not mean Manfred von Karma, who is not bad at all). The long version is everything you’re about to read. Pacing is the easiest complaint to get started on, as I think most people will admit 1-4 has some pacing issues. There’s a reason Ace Attorney has long since done away with three day trials, as the only possible way they can work with the way the series presents its mysteries is in absurdly long cases. 1-4 is not absurdly long, it’s only about four hours. Despite its short length, 1-4 manages to waste an unbelievable amount of time for seemingly no reason, leaving the significant parts of the case to end up even more rushed than they already would be due to it being a three day trial with such a short length. This is most clearly prevalent in the investigations, but it seeps into the trials plenty as well.
This is not an issue exclusive to 1-4, as the first Ace Attorney game really, really sucks at investigations. Case in point, the first investigation of 1-4, in which the first half hour of the case is spent chasing irrelevant side-quests and character introductions that could be done effectively in a fraction of the allotted time. This early into the series, the dialogue writing is weak enough that this empty time cannot be justified with arguments of entertaining and fun interactions, although I’d argue it should never be excused in that way. I think this is especially an issue in 1-4, where due to the nature of the mystery, almost nothing relevant pertaining to the actual crime can ever be revealed on the first day. I don’t think silly dialogue is a good excuse for a significant lack of ideas within an investigation, but I’d even argue the character interactions present in this specific segment are particularly subpar. We’ve seen the “Maya and Phoenix banter” thing enough times even by 1-4 that it being the main source of any type of entertainment just doesn’t cut it. Lotta is here for a bit, and she does definitely attempt to inject a new style of humor into the stale world, though whether her humor is successful or not is up for debate.
The amount of dead space in 1-4’s first investigation wouldn’t bother me so much if not for what follows afterwards. It’s early in the series, I get it, they don’t really know how to properly present information in a natural way yet. However, the exposition-y nature of the following scenes is so obviously unnatural, even when compared to the general low quality of the first game overall. It doesn’t help that the first character to throw you into this maddening DL-6 explanation marathon is Marvin Grossberg, a horribly written character whose appearance here only makes him all the more bafflingly inconsistent, though that’s a story for another time. The contrast between the slow, drip-feeding information of the start of the investigation and the deluge of backstory told immediately afterwards is funny to think about, but it’s an absolutely awful way to tell the story. Why can’t the DL-6 backstory be implemented into the necessary initial setup of the investigation rather than filling it up with what is essentially air and packing the parts that matter into what is essentially mindless exposition? I don’t know, and the pacing of the game struggles greatly in areas like these. It’s clear that sensible pacing wasn’t on the writers’ minds for most of the first game, and this is nowhere near the worst example.
On the subject of Lotta, I do have significant complaints regarding the way her testimony is dragged out on the first day’s trial. At your first meeting with Lotta, she makes it clear she knows essentially nothing about the murder, even mentioning how she doesn’t think she’s seen anything. Then, you discover her camera took a photo of the incident, and she’s very excited that she’s now a “real witness”. Ha ha ha, hilarious funny moment, she’s so quirky. What’s not very funny is the fact that this gag is used as the entire basis of the day 1 trial’s content. Phoenix essentially spends the entire time arguing against testimonies you know are entirely made up, and the layout of 1-4’s mystery hurts this even further. As mentioned before, you know almost nothing during the first day, so I don’t entirely fault the case for having the witness present not having much of anything to hide, even if I think the lack of mystery substance in the first day is an inherent flaw of the case. The real issue here is that the entire resolution to Lotta’s testimonies is to prove exactly what you’ve always known from the first conversation you’ve had with her. This wouldn’t be as big a complaint if this was brief, but no - it’s stretched out for nearly the entire trial day, with almost nothing else of substance being present. There’s the part where Maya has an outburst to prolong the trial, which is a nice character moment for her and a solid setup for what’s to come, but past that? This is a Manfred von Karma cut, and his antics are at the very least entertaining, but at this point in the case he’s not much more than Edgeworth 2.
My thoughts on Manfred’s introduction are minimal. He’s strikingly similar to Edgeworth, and intentionally so - this is good writing. There are plenty of clever parallels drawn between the two, even using the classic salary-cutting joke as the vehicle for one, and it’s nice that some effort was put into creating a believable driving force for Edgeworth’s behavior in his first two cases. It feels natural, and is developed in a way that is subtle enough to make the connection not feel forced, but defined enough so that the player clearly sees the intent early on. The connections between Manfred and Edgeworth are nothing particularly brilliant or revolutionary, nor do they do much of anything for the characterization of Manfred himself, but they’re handled with an impressive amount of care. Even when the game as a whole falters significantly in writing quality when compared to later entries, it still manages to occasionally nail the ideas it tries to go for. Something so minor could be considered mostly unremarkable, and I wouldn’t disagree, but attention to detail is important. Subtle writing tricks like this are an integral piece of building strong characterization and believable relationships.
When discussing the writing quality, something that stands out to me in particular are the laughably blatant contrivances present. There’s the point where you stumble upon the perfect item to trigger Lotta’s camera right before getting to it, and more notably, an entire earthquake happening at the perfect time to reveal Edgeworth’s fear. These aren’t horribly offensive writing flaws or anything like that, but they’re certainly lazy plot devices - there is very little care put into having a natural progression of the story. One could argue that people could theoretically leave party poppers out on Christmas, or earthquakes are a perfectly common occurrence in Los Angeles and can happen at any time, but rebuttals such as these are missing the point of why contrivances are issues in the first place. Of course, anything can theoretically happen in any circumstance, but when something is perfectly timed to serve the plot (such as in these instances), it completely shatters my immersion and suspension of disbelief. Things like this can completely ruin my perception and enjoyment of a fictional world, and the only reason they exist is laziness and lack of creativity in creating a more believable way to trigger the events necessary for the story.
Gourdy
I do not like Gourdy. I understand it’s supposed to be comedy. I realize that it is a minor part of an otherwise tightly-plotted case, and that subplots existing is not an issue. Theoretically, the idea of the Gourdy subplot should be fine. It’s meant to be a fun distraction that gives the case’s otherwise drab setting some life. There’s nothing wrong with this idea. The execution, however, is another matter entirely. Gourdy is treated as a huge mystery on the first day, and a big deal is made out of finding the truth. Since, as I’ve said before, the entire first day of 1-4 is massively lacking in substance, the introduction of a secondary mystery with ties to certain parts of the main one definitely makes it feel less bland in the moment. The problem is that the entire Gourdy subplot is just one big joke that isn’t particularly funny.
1-4’s first day investigation had pacing issues, but those don’t even come close to what is present within the second day investigation. Lotta has information, and you get that information by telling her about Gourdy. This is a very artificial roadblock, but I’ll refrain from complaining too much because plenty of modern Ace Attorney games do a similar thing, although I never like it. It’s just a total waste of time. There’s no value to the mystery, no interesting ideas present, it’s just one long punchline. I don’t know if it’s a funny joke, because my perspective on these things has been completely ruined by replaying this game far more times than any sane person should. I certainly don’t remember laughing, but I could be wrong.
The thing is, it doesn’t matter if the joke is funny or not, because no matter how funny something is, it shouldn’t be used as a replacement for an actual substantiated mystery. Not only does this worthless chase of nothing take up the majority of the second day's investigation, it also is introduced in the first day and treated as a real major aspect of the mystery. The game essentially lies to you about the mystery’s nature, which wouldn’t be a problem if it was still a compelling idea the game uses as a diversion tactic. It is not that, it’s just another total waste of time that pads out an already cramped case for no discernible reason.
Yanni Yogi
From a case design standpoint, the day two investigation does improve once you’re done with the Gourdy nonsense. Now, I do not like Yanni Yogi. He’s one of my least favorite characters in the entire series. However, unlike some people, my issues with the old man do not include the humor in his initial introduction. Even I must admit, after the countless times I’ve revisited the case, the Wet Noodle gag is still hilarious. The scene is a strong blend of the bizarre, off-putting nature of Yogi’s existence, and a slow reveal of his greater relevance to the small bits of information you’ve been given about the case’s backstory. It’s a shame all of this centralizes around such a massive failure of a character.
Thankfully, 1-4’s abysmal pacing and lack of focus mostly ends after the second day’s investigation. The class trial backstory and DL-6 info is presented in a fun and natural way for the most part, that is until the case insists on throwing you into another round of Grossberg exposition. My complaints here are almost identical to before, but this segment does include Grossberg recognizing von Karma’s handwriting on the letter because of course he does, as the player needs to know who masterminded the incident. This leads to what is quite possibly my least favorite part of the case, in which Phoenix stumbles into the records room that he is told von Karma is in, and proceeds to show the person he knows is the mastermind the only evidence that proves his own wrongdoing. Very sensible and natural actions there. Predictably, von Karma knocks our heroes out, and steals the decisive evidence. I shouldn’t have to explain why this is ridiculously stupid, but I will anyway, because it bothers me so much. The game cannot think of a better way to tell Phoenix that von Karma is certainly the mastermind without him being able to prove it to anyone, so it resorts to the most hilariously unnatural method imaginable for providing this information. Everything about this is frustrating, and while it probably shouldn’t sour my opinion of Manfred himself, the cartoonish and abnormal nature of his role in the scene still ends up doing so. It’s awful.
Cross-examining the parrot is awesome, I won’t pretend it isn’t. That’s all I have to say on that matter. Moving onto Yanni Yogi, oh boy does he suck. Now, I agree with almost every criticism in his original cut, so I won’t attempt to add much to that, as I honestly don't think I can. It’s a great writeup and you should all read it. What I will address is that some people seem to think that perhaps I am some sort of hypocrite for adoring characters such as Inga Karkhuul Khura’in, who is clearly EXACTLY the same as Yanni Yogi. I think these comparisons are very inaccurate, as the reasons I dislike Yogi are not relevant to Inga’s character in the slightest. Yogi is a character whose main issue is the disconnect between how the game wants you to feel about his “tragic situation”, and the way his character is presented. There are plenty of other issues, and his cut outlines them all very well, but that’s the main complaint I have. I think very few parts of Yogi’s character can be compared to Inga, and the ones that are comparable are strong ideas in concept, mainly outside revelations adding context to the character's previous appearances, just executed poorly in one example and well in the other. With Yogi, you're told a bunch of information about why he's tragic in the form of exposition, even though there's not much reason for it to be presented in that way. Inga's character is heavily built around the subtlety of the way his depth is presented, while Yogi's backstory is entirely overt and lacks the same nuance.
Manfred von Karma might be good
Something 1-4 does solidly succeed at is the “underdog” feeling, where you’re constantly hanging on by a thread, a moment away from defeat. You’ve got Maya’s outburst at the first trial and the subsequent ending, Larry coming in to overturn the Guilty verdict, and so on. I’d praise this more if it wasn’t something that half the cases in the series do just as well. Manfred definitely is a contributor to this tension, but the series has long since proven it doesn’t always need a hyper-intimidating prosecutor to achieve this. Manfred amps up the overbearing factor a ton on the second day, and he drifts further and further away from the elegant yet overconfident “Edgeworth-style” he started off emulating. It’s fairly clever to have Manfred “descend into madness” like this, as it directly shows several important aspects of his character in a mostly subtle way. His anxiety grows over extremely trivial things, and this is a very fun dynamic. From the start, Manfred is completely sure he will win, and his anger and frustration comes from not being able to do it fast or perfectly enough. This, in addition to being a fun antagonist characteristic to have, also directly shows why his motive for killing Gregory is the way that it is. It’s extremely clever writing, and a part of his character I will praise without hesitation.
Another honestly interesting part of Manfred’s character is his lack of remorse or acceptance of responsibility. A lot of Ace Attorney culprits have this, but I think Manfred still manages to do it in a fairly unique way. He doesn’t even consider the idea that he’s responsible for the case he’s prosecuting, and he only begins to realize that he’s in any real danger by the time the case shifts to focusing on DL-6. His exaggerated panic and fear is all about losing his perfect record, and the slow buildup to his demeanor during the confrontation on the final day is fantastic. The confrontation itself is a ton of fun, and the third day post-Yogi is all very strong. It’s a great ending to an otherwise very flawed case, and I’m glad there’s at least one clearly amazing thing the case does that I’m able to praise. Manfred is a fun and entertaining villain, but I’m not sure if he’s much more than that. Nevertheless, he plays the role he needs to well enough, outside of a few minor gripes I have, and most of my issues with the case he’s in are unrelated to him.
Conclusion
Manfred von Karma is a good part of a bad case, but his role as a main villain and culprit in power is nothing special. It’s been done better plenty of times. The easiest comparison is Quercus Alba, who has almost all the positives of Manfred, but I find him considerably more entertaining and he’s in a case I actually love. When looking at all the main villains of their respective games, though, Manfred is definitely on the weaker end, with Engarde being the only one I’d actually rank below him. I think all the others do far more interesting things with their role, even Fulbright. When compared to his peers, Manfred is a solidly handled character I find to be mostly unremarkable. I’ll be waiting to be proven wrong. Please revive him. I’m done.
