MAJOR APOLLO JUSTICE: ACE ATTORNEY SPOILERS
So, I didn’t like AJ:AA as much as I thought I would.
Keep in mind that my prior experience with Ace Attorney (AA) before this was the Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney Trilogy (1-3) and The Great Ace Attorney (TGAA) Chronicles, so I had very high standards. I’m a PC guy, so I just play the games when they get ported over. Also, I haven’t seen much discourse about this game, so I have no idea if my thoughts are a brand new hot take or the same stuff people have been saying for years. That said, here are my very long and drawn-out thoughts about Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney.
Apollo Justice is (not) doing fine.
Apollo Justice is a new defense attorney and the protagonist of this game, following up Phoenix Wright from the first three AA games. These are major shoes to fill, but moving to a new protagonist made sense - they essentially finished Phoenix’s story in the previous game in the series. Justice is a less experienced attorney than Wright, so of course he’d trip up a bit in court and occasionally fold under the tremendous pressure of prosecutor and air guitar extraordinaire Klavier Gavin (more on him later). However, I’m sure the writers could have handled this in a way that feels less frustrating to the player.
Most of the time, Justice appears helpless in the courtroom. He tries his best, but is ultimately forced into a corner by the prosecution. Ace Attorney cases are typically a constant back-and-forth between the defense and prosecution: the prosecution embarasses the defense, then the defense has a revelation and dominates the prosecution, then the prosecution dismantles the defense’s theory and forces them back into a corner, and the process repeats until a Not Guilty verdict is reached (with few exceptions). However, Justice tends to spend significantly more time crying in the corner than making a case for himself. Apollo certainly has his moments, but they felt far and few between. Half of Apollo’s gimmick is his “Chords of Steel,” or his incredibly loud voice. Even if he has nothing to say, let my man shout. His mentor is THE Phoenix Wright, after all - let Justice bluff a bit, even if it doesn’t always work out at first.
The other half of his gimmick is his bracelet, which lets him find minute details of a person’s body language, and use that discovery to pull the person into the shadow realm to question them and extract the truth. This is a really creative idea which breathed some new life into the gameplay of the four cases, but I do feel like it could have been executed significantly better. In order to find the details of a person’s body language, Justice’s vision excessively zooms in on a character, and the player is tasked with panning around with Justice’s super-powered eyes as the witness gives their testimony. When you’re that zoomed in, finding a slight twitch of a finger or a bit of moisture in a witness’ armpit can feel like finding a needle in a human haystack, especially when you have absolutely no idea what you’re looking for. It’s a great concept, but in execution, it proves to be more frustrating than enjoyable.
Given how helpless he is in the courtroom, I felt that Justice and his revelations don’t really drive the story as much as they should. More often, he just happens to be there in the courtroom as the story happens to him. This doesn’t change much as the game progresses either - he has some growth over the course of the story, but it isn’t really felt as the cases march onwards. Unfortunately, Justice never really grows the strength and mental fortitude to push the story and the mystery forward himself. Even when he does in Dual Destinies, it feels like borderline character assassination, but that’s a different game that deserves a different rant (coming soon?????). In AJ:AA, there’s another character who really pushes the story forward, constantly leaving Justice in the dust.
Klavier Gavin is ready to rock (a little too hard).
SPOILERS FOR ACE ATTORNEY 1 & 3 IN THIS SECTION
Klavier Gavin is this game’s new prosecutor, and he also has big shoes to fill - but for different reasons. Each Ace Attorney game up to this point has had different prosecutors facing off against the defense, and the standouts were undoubtedly Miles Edgeworth and Godot (my apologies to the Von Karma and Payne families). Edgeworth was Phoenix Wright’s first main prosecutor opponent, and he was formidable for many reasons - he was a very skilled prosecutor, he had much more experience in the courtroom than Wright, and he had never lost a case. Thus, when he experienced his first ever loss to novice defense attorney Phoenix Wright, he was horrified. He came back for revenge and lost again and again, until Wright defended him in court as the defendant against the legendary prosecutor Manfred Von Karma, causing him to re-evaluate. This made Edgeworth an incredibly complex and intriguing character, and a great opponent in the courtroom. Two games later, Godot served as the main prosecutor of AA3, and was also a hugely complex character due in large part to his past association with Mia Fey. Fey was Wright’s late mentor, and Godot’s complicated relationship with both Fey and Wright made him a very interesting opponent, especially in the last case of the game. I still can’t hear the words “the only time a lawyer can cry is when it’s all over” without tearing up just a little bit. These prosecutors all went to war against Wright in the courtroom, and were devastated when facing defeat. Not Klavier Gavin, though. He’s different.
As Justice got his first Not Guilty verdict against Gavin, Gavin simply stood and smiled. He wasn’t banging on his desk or breaking coffee cups like two other prosecutors I know - he just stood and smiled. This created an air of mystery around him - why isn’t he upset? Did he want to lose? What is this guy’s motivation? Although this left me feeling somewhat unsatisfied with the case’s conclusion, I moved on to the next case in the hopes that something would eventually be explained. But it wasn’t. Even as the game came to its conclusion, Klavier Gavin didn’t have a single major breakdown. It was as if every event of the game went exactly as he planned it. If that’s how Gavin’s actions were supposed to be interpreted, then it makes for a very unsatisfying conclusion. Apollo Justice was the protagonist, and yet no victory was truly his - he was just guided along the correct path by the prosecutor on the other side of the courtroom. Gavin would often give Justice hints or lead him into a line of reasoning that Justice would need to win the case, which makes me feel like this was what the writers were trying to do with his character. Yet, with an “antagonist” that predicts your every move and is always one step ahead, you need two things: an overarching goal and a defeat at the hands of the protagonist. In Gavin’s case, these two were in constant conflict.
Klavier Gavin’s main motivation throughout the game appeared to revolve around his older brother, Kristoph Gavin. Kristoph was referred to as “the devil” and was found to be the culprit of both the first and last cases of the game (more on both of those later), and I believe it’s safe to say he was the overall antagonist of the game. Klavier Gavin, being his brother, had complex feelings towards him in theory - he loved Kristoph as a brother, but hated him for who he was and what he’d done. This was also not executed well, as we (the players) were never really given a glimpse into what this relationship was - we were just told that it was there. The interactions between Klavier and Kristoph were very limited in number, and showed nothing more than the surface level of their relationship. Don’t get me wrong - I like it when details like that are just implied, and I don’t need every little thing spelled out for me. Still, I felt like their relationship was shown a little too much to be “just implied,” but not enough to be explored in any meaningful depth. When Kristoph was found guilty at the end of the last case, Klavier seemed happy, proudly declaring to his brother that “Kristoph… it’s over.” It appeared that this was what he wanted, this was his end goal, this was his motivation. He got it - he won. Yet, this made for a very unsatisfying conclusion, as Apollo Justice was the protagonist, and he needed to win too. He won each case, sure, but Klavier never lost. Klavier was always one step ahead of Justice, and he got what he wanted without much difficulty. The protagonist never truly won if we consider Justice to be the protagonist, but what if we consider Klavier to be the protagonist?
In order for Klavier to function as the protagonist, he would need one thing that he doesn’t show nearly enough of: character growth. The first time we see him, he’s already a successful prosecutor AND the lead guitarist, singer, and frontman of a ridiculously successful rock band NAMED AFTER HIM. There isn’t much further to go from there. He shows this success in the courtroom too: he appears cocky and confident, forcing Justice into corner after corner, with a charismatic smile that rarely leaves his face. His only point of weakness seems to be his brother. Supposedly, he’s always lived in the shadow of his brother, and this is his chance at redemption - but is it really? What part of headlining a rock band NAMED AFTER YOU is living in your brother’s shadow? What part of his long, successful career as a prosecutor is in his brother’s shadow? His confidence wavers a little as he faces his brother at the end of the story, but that is the only time he’s shown interacting with his brother. Ultimately, Klavier stares his brother down, watches as Justice corners Kristoph in a cross-examination, and smiles as his brother is taken back to jail for good. His demeanor never changes - he never seems any less cocky, and he always has the same exact smile. It’s as if the story doesn’t affect him. This is frankly frustrating to watch, seeing all his potential as a character go to waste. He has minimal character growth, and the little he has isn’t earned. Klavier is a bad antagonist and a bad protagonist, as if the writers had no idea what to do with him.
If you want my theory on the matter, I think the writers really wanted to create a character that people would like. They saw the people’s love of Edgeworth, of Franziska Von Karma (to some extent), and of Godot, and they wanted to replicate that feeling. In their attempts, though, they forgot what made those prosecutors so loveable. Yeah, they were quirky and charismatic little guys to some extent, but they were also powerful foes who proved to be mountains for Phoenix Wright to conquer. We hated them as enemies at first sight, but as we got to know them better, we came to love them as friendly rivals. Not only that, but they all grew as characters in meaningful ways. With Klavier, they tried to rush the process, and it didn’t work out. They wanted us to love Klavier from the start by making him cool and a bit quirky, but that was all on the surface level. We loved what laid beneath the surface of Wright’s relationships with Edgeworth, Franziska, and Godot - we loved the depth of their characters and of their stories. In order to give Klavier and his relationship with Apollo that kind of depth, they would have needed to build Klavier’s character up much more over time. However, that would mean that Klavier’s character couldn’t already be perfect from the start. The writers assumed that we loved the previous prosecutors because of how cool they were on the surface, but they missed everything beneath the surface level that was truly the foundation for our collective love for our foes of the past. Then again, that’s just my theory - I have no idea what was actually going on in the writer’s room at the time.
I did like Klavier Gavin as a character, I just didn’t love him, and I honestly think he’s my least favorite main prosecutor of the series only because of the high standards set by other prosecutors. Nothing will beat out my love for Godot and the TGAA prosecutors, and unfortunately Gavin didn’t even come close. In fact, my favorite case from the game is actually the only one he isn’t involved in.
Case 1: Turnabout Trump (lives up to its name).
I would like to clarify that the game and I are referring to the verb “trump,” which means “to get the better of” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary). I am not referring to the former president of the United States. This game was released in 2007, 9 years before the start of the presidency of Donald Trump. It was released 15 years after Trump played his prolific role in Home Alone 2: Lost in New York, though. That seems important.
Nonetheless, I genuinely believe this is one of the greatest opening cases in an Ace Attorney game, right up there with AA3 and TGAA 1 & 2. It does a great job of introducing Apollo Justice as an attorney and putting the player into his shoes, while showing that his heart is in the right place but he still has room to grow. Unfortunately, he never wound up growing that much in this game, but that’s a problem to take up with the rest of this game’s cases. This case also functions as the player’s introduction to the overall mystery of AJ:AA, and Justice acts as your eyes into this new world of unsolved mysteries. This game takes place 7 years after the previous game in the series, and the old protagonist, Phoenix Wright, is very different from how we last saw him. AA3’s conclusion saw Wright win his hardest (and best-written) case yet as a successful attorney with a growing history of success, but AJ:AA opens with Wright as a disgraced, disbarred former attorney, working as a pianist that can’t even play the piano. He’s even the suspect of a murder in this opening case. Naturally, the player has to wonder what caused this, which sets them on track to uncover the mysteries that the rest of the game has in store for them. Apollo feels the same way, and thus your motivations align as player and protagonist. This helps the player better connect with the new protagonist, and Apollo Justice already feels at home as the new head of the Ace Attorney series (until Dual Destinies at least). Not only that, but the other new character introduced also proves to be fascinating and intricately connected to the mystery at hand.
This case also functions as the player’s introduction to Kristoph Gavin, a renowned defense attorney that appears to be friends with Wright, and Justice’s mentor. He walks the player through the tutorial, which is not only useful from a gameplay perspective, but also portrays him as a reliable character from a storytelling perspective. This seemingly tiny detail makes the player trust Kristoph more, just like Justice does, and thus puts the player further into Justice’s shoes. Mia Fey gave the same instructions to Phoenix Wright in the first Ace Attorney game and she was very trustworthy, so the player would subconsciously think of Kristoph the same way they thought of Fey, putting them on the same pedestal. Justice trusts Kristoph as his mentor, so once more the player feels better connected with the new protagonist. This isn’t the only way the game tricks the player into trusting Kristoph, though. Typically in the first case of an Ace Attorney game, there will be four or five major characters - the defense attorney, the prosecutor, the defendant, the witness that turns out to be the true culprit, and possibly a mentor or partner for the defense. Thus, when the witness (Ms. Olga Orly) takes the stand, the player would naturally assume that they’re the true culprit - it’s happened in opening cases in games prior, and it would proceed to happen again in future games. Kristoph tries to guide Justice (and the player by extension) to accuse Ms. Orly, which would naturally make sense to the player. They trust Kristoph and they’ve done this song and dance a few times by this point - it must be Orly. However, Wright leads Justice and the player in a different direction, with the knowledge that Orly isn’t the real killer. Instead, it’s actually Kristoph Gavin himself, in a massive betrayal and twist as the writers flip the opening case formula on its head. Wright takes the stand next to you as you prove your formerly trusted mentor’s guilt, sending him off to jail. The writers completely subverted the player’s expectations over the course of one short case.
Additionally, this perfectly clues Justice and the player into the mysteries of the game, without revealing too much. The player knows just enough to wonder, but not enough to have any answers. What happened to Wright? What’s with his pendant? What was Kristoph’s motive? What aren’t they telling us? All of this gets the player (or at least got me) genuinely interested and excited for the events to come, especially after this wonderfully-written case. I was worried that these cases wouldn’t be able to live up to the ridiculously high bar set by their predecessors, but this case proved that the writers were more than capable. At least, I thought it did. You’ve already seen the first two sections of this essay, so you know that this game did not live up to my expectations at all. In addition to the previous games, I blame this first case for setting the bar way too high for the rest of the game. Because of this case, I expected the rest of the game to have superb writing and direction to match this masterpiece of a case, but it didn’t. I felt that the rest of the game’s cases - 2 and 3 - were just okay at best. They certainly had their moments, but ultimately, they were just average. I don’t have much to say about them (although I’ll touch on them a bit in the “other things I want to rant about” section), but after all the mysteries introduced in the first case, there was a lot hinging on the grand finale: case 4. I was still extremely curious to find out the answers, but ultimately, the way they were delivered was nothing more than a letdown for me.
Case 4: The MASON System (has an error).
I have a LOT to complain about for the fourth and final case, so I’m splitting it up into two parts, like how it was in the game. I know I’m skipping over the first half of the case, but my main criticisms really lie in the case’s dramatic and disappointing conclusion. First, I’ll be talking about the portion taking place in the MASON System, which frankly just confused me and took me out of the experience. I can only suspend my disbelief so much, and this weird and unexplained segment pushed me over the top. I’m still not entirely clear on what the MASON System even is, but I’ll do my best to explain what I experienced inside it. As the player, you see what appears to be a loading screen, and then you’re shown a black background covered in moving green binary code, just like something a hacker from of a cheesy 90s movie would see as they hack into the mainframe (as you can see in the image above). In front and facing you is Phoenix Wright, who appears to be talking directly to you. He’s not talking to Justice anymore, because Justice isn’t here, wherever or whatever here is. Wright appears talking directly to you, the player. The player is later revealed to be seeing through the eyes of “Juror No. 6,” but I’ll get more into that in the next section since it isn’t revealed until the end of the case. It also doesn’t explain how the juror got immersed in the MASON System or what it even is, but I digress. Wright then tells you that you can use the system to jump through space and time in order to experience Wright’s memories and to find the “keys” (evidence) to unlocking the truth, which you’ll then use to find the real truth of the mystery.
If you got lost somewhere in that last paragraph, me too. The game doesn’t explain how the MASON System connects to anything else in the game (or in Ace Attorney canon for that matter), how it knows Wright’s memories so intimately that the user can fully re-experience them, and why Justice can only get that game-changing evidence after some random juror experiences Wright’s memories. As far as I’m aware, this is the only time something like this has been done in Ace Attorney, and for good reason: it completely breaks immersion. Even if Wright isn’t actually breaking the fourth wall, it certainly appears like he is, which is not something Ace Attorney has ever done in a serious manner before, outside telling a player to press a certain button in a tutorial. The presence of Juror No. 6 is used at the end of the case to show that it wasn’t actually a fourth wall break, but that was long after the player left the MASON System and long after my inversion was ruined. I can accept weird and barely explained concepts in Ace Attorney - in fact, I’ve come to expect it. However, these usually follow a set of established rules in the Ace Attorney universe, so the player stays immersed. There’s nothing realistic or sensical about Wright’s “Psyche-Locks,” the Fey family’s ability to summon spirits of the dead, or really anything in Spirit of Justice (I’ve only played the first case, don’t spoil it for me). However, it’s an established rule in the world of Ace Attorney that magic exists and certain people can wield it. Thus, despite not being at all realistic, it makes sense in the context of the world. The MASON System, however, does not. I still don’t really understand it, and honestly, my enjoyment of the game is heightened if I just forget about the system itself and just remember what happened inside of it.
Even if I didn’t like the MASON System as a concept, I have to give credit where credit’s due: I did enjoy experiencing Wright’s memories and slowly starting to piece together the truth of the incident that led to Wright getting disbarred and the apparent death of Thalassa Gramarye. There were two ongoing mysteries at that point - the case of Magnifi Gramarye’s death (and Wright’s disbarment) from 7 years ago, and the case of Drew Misham’s death in the present. These two appeared to be inseparable from each other, and the truth about both would have to come out together. In truth, I’m kind of a sucker for mysteries where the past and present collide, even if it’s on the verge of becoming an overused trope in the Ace Attorney series by this point. I love figuring out the truth behind a long-lost case of the past and using that to answer questions about the present, and the MASON System delivers that perfectly. I especially love the use of Psyche-Locks throughout, which are essentially visualizations of secrets that people hide. These appear when a person is hiding something from Wright, and by presenting evidence, you can crack open these “locks” until the truth is finally laid bare. In this section, you slowly pick away at Valant Gramarye’s Psyche-Locks as you explore and gain new evidence. You figure out the existence of a secret as you question Valant, explore somewhere or someone else until you have the right evidence to force the truth out of him, then come back and land another blow that gets you ever closer to the truths behind Magnifi’s death and the Thalassa incident. This allows the player to see how close they’re getting to the heart of the mystery, and is certainly much better than any use of Psyche-Locks in Dual Destinies, where you already have the evidence from the moment the locks are put on display. Then again, that’s another essay for another time. I may not like how the writers used the MASON System to link Wright’s past to Justice’s present, but that was a very satisfying part of the mystery to conquer - if you ignore the MASON System itself, that is. Now that the answers to the mystery are starting to make themselves apparent, all the writers had to do was to stick the landing and call it a day, but it felt more like a belly flop than anything.
Case 4: Turnabout Succession (was not a success).
SPOILERS FOR THE GREAT ACE ATTORNEY 1 IN THIS SECTION
Most of case 4 played out like the rest of the cases in this game: just okay. It wasn’t exceptional, but I don’t have any major problems with it either. My main issue was the way the case was concluded, with a strange turn of events that felt out-of-place and caused a generally unsatisfying conclusion that ultimately made the journey feel like a waste. To explain this, let me give some context about Phoenix Wright’s adventures before and during the events of this game. Despite having been disbarred for presenting forged evidence in court, he was still very involved with the legal system and creating change within it. Specifically, he wanted to incorporate a jurist system into the courts, meaning that the verdict would be decided by six jurors instead of just a judge. This trial would be the first in the country to use the jurist system, and would be a test of this new system. Additionally, it’s revealed at the end of the trial that the player takes the role of a juror, Juror No. 6. This is the same character that experienced the MASON System just prior. Given all this information, you might be wondering: Why does Phoenix Wright have the power to alter the trial system in such a drastic way? Why would the verdict of a “test run” of a new system decide whether the defendant, a 19-year-old girl, spends the rest of her life in jail? Why does the player, who plays the role of the defense attorney, also get to play the role of the juror who decides the verdict of the case? And to those questions, I have no answer, and neither does the game. The end of this last trial entirely revolves around this “jurist system” subplot, and yet it feels tacked-on and pointless in the grand scheme of the game’s story. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a bad concept - Kristoph Gavin’s breakdown at the hands of the jury showed a glimpse of everything this game could have been. Yet, it just felt improperly executed, as if the writers just forgot about it until the last moment and scribbled down a couple new plot points at the end to make it fit. Furthermore, the whole concept of a jurist system as it existed in AJ:AA just isn’t compatible with the Ace Attorney formula. The judge’s decision is an integral part of a trial, and the only reasonable way they could make it work would be something like the system in The Great Ace Attorney 1 & 2. In TGAA games, the jurors are right in front of the judge, and both the defense and prosecution can argue directly to them. Instead of maintaining the idea of an anonymous jury decision behind closed doors, Dual Destinies just pretended that the jurist system was never introduced, which was honestly a smart decision if they wanted to maintain the classic Ace Attorney formula.
At the very end of the case, the player takes control of Juror No. 6, and gets to make their vote to decide whether the defendant is guilty. The player, who has been arguing that the defendant isn’t guilty to the court for hours, gets the chance to decide whether or not the defendant is guilty. As you can probably tell, there is a correct answer. An Ace Attorney game with multiple endings is a cool idea in theory, but in practice, there’s really only one ending in AJ:AA. If you choose to declare the defendant “not guilty,” you finally catch the real killer and happy music plays as the credits roll. If, for whatever reason, you declare the defendant that you’ve been defending for multiple hours “guilty,” then you’re told that the defendant died in a hospital bed and you’re kicked back to the main menu. The credits don’t even roll if you decide to indict the defendant. The idea of choice is a very important one to this game’s story, yet the one real choice the player is given has a correct answer, and the game punishes you for answering incorrectly. Once again, this doesn’t feel thought-through at all - it was just tacked on at the end for seemingly no reason at all. Still, that doesn’t mean it’s a bad concept. For instance, what if it was used in a case like “The Adventure of the Runaway Room” (case 3) from The Great Ace Attorney: Adventures? That case was an incredibly interesting case for a number of reasons, including the fact that it was the protagonist’s first time acting as an attorney in a court with a jury. But more than that, it was interesting because of one ginormous detail of its beautifully unsatisfying and unsettling conclusion: it’s never made clear whether the defendant did or didn’t commit the crime. You get your “not guilty” verdict from the jury, but you never get a magnificent breakdown from the true culprit, and the defendant acts smug and suspicious as he’s given permission to walk free. In this case, there wasn’t a right or wrong answer, and neither the player nor the protagonist are ever given an answer as to whether or not they did the right thing. They just have to live in suspense and pray that they didn’t just set a murderer loose upon the world. If the final case of AJ:AA was structured more like this, it would make sense to have the player make the decision, since it easily could go either way. However, this isn’t at all similar to what the case actually was, leading to immense disappointment instead of the unease and intrigue it should have provided.
Even so, there was one thing this ending did right: the reveal of Juror No. 6’s identity. By this point, Thalassa Gramarye’s true identity has been revealed as not just the wife of Shadi Enigmar and daughter of Magnifi Gramarye, but also the mother of Apollo Justice as well as the mother of Phoenix Wright’s adopted daughter, Trucy Wright. The key to this realization laid in the bracelet she had on her wrist, which was identical to the one worn by Justice which gave him his powers. However, during his investigation, Phoenix Wright also learned that Thalssa had an unfortunate death in an accident years and years ago. When Juror No. 6’s perspective is shown as they look down on a screen with options for “guilty” and “not guilty,” a reflection is shown on the screen, vaguely showing the face of a prominent witness from “Turnabout Serenade” (case 3) by the name of Lamiroir. She always wore a hood and a mask over her face, which I assumed was just meant to make life easier for the animators. Still, it was instantly recognizable, even if it was just a faint silhouette. Additionally, her sleeve extended up her arm, showing that beautiful and recognizable pattern the player had seen numerous times behind the witness stand. Yet, as the player controls her arm and moves it to the “guilty” or “not guilty” buttons, her sleeve falls down, revealing a golden bracelet - identical to the one worn by Apollo Justice. Thalassa Gramarye is still very much alive, and she’s living life as Lamiroir. I was grinning ear to ear with my jaw on the floor as the answer to the game’s final (intentional) mystery was revealed - exactly how I should feel at the end of an Ace Attorney game. The reveal was subtle enough that I felt smart for figuring out what it meant, but obvious enough that it was near-impossible to miss. The game doesn’t outright tell you what it means (until a wrap-up scene right after), but instead takes a look at the puzzle of answers you’ve been building up throughout the story, and gives you the final piece. Because of this perfectly-written moment at the end, the game actually left a pretty good taste in my mouth, despite everything I just complained about. I may not have loved a lot about the ending of this case, but this one detail almost makes it all worth it. Almost.
Other things I want to rant about
SPOILERS FOR ACE ATTORNEY 1 & 5 IN THE FIRST PARAGRAPH
I’ve talked about all my main points of controversy about this game, but there’s still a bit I want to get off my chest about a few other topics. I don’t have as much to say about these as I did about my main topics, but this is a comprehensive essay on nearly all of my thoughts about Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney, so why stop now? First, let’s talk a bit about the man in the picture above: Phoenix Wright. Honestly, I liked the way the writers treated him in this game. Introducing the former lawyer extraordinaire as a washed-up bum raises a lot of intrigue from the player, and seeing him in his natural habitat at the defense’s bench supporting Justice was a satisfying thing to see. To Justice, Wright serves as a mentor. Although he’s a very different character now, he still has the intelligence and the whimsy that Wright is known for. He’ll act mysterious when it comes to important topics and he’ll get serious when he needs to, but he’s also just telling dad jokes and reminiscing on his days of presenting his attorney’s badge to every person he saw. He’s an old, retired veteran of an attorney, and a hero for Justice to look up to. Yet, at the same time, he’s a weird and silly old dude with that same old silly sense of humor he’s always had. It would have been very easy to essentially pull a character assassination on Wright by putting him into this role, but the writers of AJ:AA walked the tightrope perfectly and gave the foundations for him to be a great mentor to Justice and possibly take on a role similar to that of Mia Fey for the rest of the series (with or without dying). I have mixed feelings about their decision to bring him back as an attorney in Dual Destinies instead of just entrusting Justice (and maybe Cykes) with the lawyering duties, but then again, that’s another essay for another time.
While we’re on the topic of characters, there’s one more I wanted to rant a bit about: Trucy Wright. As I mentioned in the last section, Trucy is the adopted daughter of Phoenix Wright, and plays a role as an assistant in this game similar to Maya Fey in past Ace Attorney games. (Which makes sense, since Trucy is Justice’s biological sister. Wait, as I’m typing this, I’m realizing: were they ever told that they were siblings? That’s their character dynamic, but Wright just says at the end of AJ:AA that he’ll tell them when the time is right. Was it still not time yet by the end of Dual Destinies? THEY DESERVE TO KNOW!) Trucy’s profession at age 15 is that of a magician, being the sole true heir to the legacy of the famous Gramarye family of magicians. I like her character and her role in the story overall, but I have one major complaint: why are the writers so obsessed with this 15-year-old girl’s panties? The first major magic trick of hers that’s shown is her “magic panties” trick, in which she can make things appear and disappear into her panties. Her panties essentially act as a pocket dimension, like Mary Poppins’ bag. For whatever reason, the writers KEEP COMING BACK to the same panty trick, OVER and OVER and OVER. It’s supposedly her most popular trick, and yet neither she, her adopted father, nor Justice ever question why an audience of grown adults is so keen on seeing this 15-year-old girl’s panties. In so much of anime and so many anime games, there’s that one episode or that one scene that you just can’t defend, and in this game (AND IN DUAL DESTINIES TOO) they just can’t let it go. As much as I love her character, this is the one sin I can’t overlook, no matter how much I want to.
There’s no way to talk about Ace Attorney without talking about the music. I don’t have any real analysis to make about the new tracks in AJ:AA, but I do want to say that I really like the new direction they took with the music in this new game. Justice is a new protagonist, so his music shouldn’t sound exactly the same as Wright’s, but it should still be recognizable enough to feel like a proper Ace Attorney game. The OST of AJ:AA does this near-perfectly. Even Justice’s “objection” theme goes by a different name: “A New Trial is in Session.” Justice is his own person and his own attorney, and this shows the new direction that the Ace Attorney franchise would be going in from here on out. This is another detail that was written out by the writers of Dual Destinies, for the better or worse, but the people behind AJ:AA had no way of knowing what the next game would do. Justice’s new tracks all have a uniquely “Apollo Justice” feeling to them, from the objection theme to the pursuit theme to the all-new “perceive” theme for Justice’s body language-reading abilities. Klavier’s theme feels perfectly cool and high-energy, and Kristoph’s theme feels like the exact opposite with a slow and methodical feel. Also, the various little easter eggs revolving around Klavier’s theme never failed to make me laugh, from hearing it in a live performance in case 3 to hearing a little pixelated version of his theme as his ringtone. And for the guitar’s serenade, well, I could probably write a whole paragraph about that. Actually-
Lamiroir was introduced in case 3 as a singer from the fictional Eastern European country of Borginia, and a very talented singer at that. We’d later learn that she’s actually Thalassa Gramarye after getting shot, losing her memories, and being presumed dead, but that’s neither here nor there. There may not have been enough space on a DS cartridge to fit high-quality human voices, but there was enough space to fit a midi file with a high-pitched part that represented the singing voice of Lamiroir. This track is one of my favorites of the entire OST. Towards the beginning of the case, you witness a joint performance between Lamiroir and Klavier Gavin, entitled “The Guitar’s Serenade.” You’ll be hearing this track again and again as you analyze the video for evidence over the course of the trial, and also because you just want to hear the song again, turn on your phone’s flashlight, and wave it back and forth over your head to the beat. Despite being such a small audio file without any actual human singing, it perfectly displays the soft, gentle, and beautiful nature of Lamiroir’s voice. The Ace Attorney games usually just have to say “trust me bro” after telling you what a witness’ voice sounds like, but this is the exception. Additionally, parts of the song are used in Lamiroir’s theme, giving it that same gentle, majestic, and elegant energy found in the song. This made it very easy to like Lamiroir as a character, which only added more magic to the reveal of her true identity at the end of the game and its story. I’m honestly not sure if I want her to return in a later game for more, or if I’d rather not hear a worse interpretation of her character that sours the memories of her character in this game. I guess all I can do is place my trust in the writers, no matter how hard of a task that may be.
Now, for a (not so) quick rapid-fire round: Payne was really funny in the first case as he completely lost control of the trial, which became a duel between Wright and Kristoph Gavin. I still see Kristoph and his devil-hand in my nightmares sometimes. Ema Skye’s return after Rise From the Ashes (bonus case from AA1) was really fun and cool to see, and I enjoyed the return of the forensic examination techniques. Seeing the Kitaki crime family after having played through the entire Yakuza franchise was really funny. The reveal that Patriarch Kitaki’s shades were actually just huge eyebrows covering tiny little baby eyes was absolutely hilarious. Wocky Kitaki is a baby version of Akira Nishikiyama if he was a furry and also straight (or maybe Alita’s betrayal is what drove him to loving men?). Trucy’s Mr. Hat magic trick is her best trick and I’m honestly appalled that it never showed up in Dual Destinies. Borginians speaking in wingdings is really funny, and I’d love to hear what that sounds like. Valant Gramarye is very evil but also really funny so I think he should be pardoned. Little Trucy in the flashback is really cute, and I love Klavier’s flashback outfit. Kristoph going super-saiyan in his breakdown is really funny and the animation is perfect. I love how everything new they did with Phoenix Wright was explained by just those seven years since disbarment, rather than adding even more things to his backstory (although I think it would be really funny if in a future Ace Attorney game, they just added a bunch of random details to Wright’s backstory then explained at the end of that game that none of it actually happened and the villain was just messing with their brains with magic) (hit me up Capcom I have ideas). I really loved the credits sequence with all the printed pictures. All in all, I feel like I didn’t love the parts of this game that really mattered, but the little unnecessary details were all perfect. Anyway, I think it’s time to wrap up this rant - it’s gone on for long enough.
The verdict on Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney
Now that I’ve dogged on Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney for 27 paragraphs and over 7,000 words, I feel like it’s time to say that it’s not actually that bad. A rant this long can only come from a place of love, and I absolutely love the Ace Attorney series. I started playing the Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney Trilogy in late 2021, which was a pretty bleak time for me coming out of the pandemic. During the pandemic, video games were the only things that really kept me going, giving me something to look forward to day to day as all the days blended together into one blob. Because of this, the games I played at the time all hold a very special place in my heart: Persona, Halo, Devil May Cry, Yakuza, Ace Attorney, and so many more. Maybe my experiences with the games were altered by the conditions of my life as I played through them, but still, I know just how amazing Ace Attorney can be. That’s exactly why I felt so upset playing through this entry of the series - I know the writers can do so much better. The game wasn’t really that terrible as a video game and as a story, but when it has to live up to the brilliant standards set by the Ace Attorney franchise, it just falls flat on its face. I did really enjoy my time playing through this game and I did really enjoy all of the cases, but I just know that Apollo Justice and Klavier Gavin had the potential to be so much more interesting and to be written so much better. I’m not going to give the game a numerical rating or anything like that because that system has no room for subjectivity, but I would genuinely recommend the game to any Ace Attorney fan who finished the first trilogy (and maybe The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles) and is looking for more - in other words, anyone like me. I may not have loved this game as much as some other games in the series, but I do not regret one second I spent playing that game. If nothing else, it gave me this chance to reflect on myself, my thoughts, and my feelings about the series as a whole. I’ll always be grateful for that, and rest assured my love for the Ace Attorney franchise will not fade anytime soon.
I’d also like to briefly say that, if you read this far into the ramblings of an insane Ace Attorney fan, thank you. I wrote this to get my own thoughts and feelings off my chest, but if anyone else reads through these words and gets literally anything out of them, then this was all the more worthwhile. And if you’re a vehement Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney fan who’s foaming at the mouth with pure rage while hate-reading my rant, please tell me why. I don’t mean this as a joke or a diss, I genuinely believe that the ability to debate and argue about the things you’re passionate about is one of the greatest joys life has to offer. While I’d rather not have any death threats sent my way, I would still greatly appreciate the chance to keep talking and thinking and debating about this messy yet beautiful game in one of the best series of stories I’ve ever had the joy of experiencing.
And as a thank you for reading this far, I’d like to let you know that I’m a screenshot addict. I cannot stop myself from taking a ridiculous number of screenshots every time I play a game, and it’s killing my hard drive. I still have a lot of really funny shots that I wasn’t able to include as section titles, so without further ado, here are some…
FUNNY SCREENSHOTS!!!!!
