#c thinks

[sandboxer]

playing AAI ahead of the rerelease and I just felt the need to shout about this wonderful detail about Franziska’s (left) and Edgeworth’s (right) phones

obviously this game is a product of its time, but even for 2009 Edgeworth’s phone is a bit dated. it’s plain and utilitarian, and it is clearly meant for little more than phone calls. texting on that thing would be a chore (edit: likely impossible). Franziska’s, however, is more modern, suited to her aesthetic tastes, and even flips open sideways to reveal a full keyboard. I think this is mostly a bit of inconsequential world-building, but if nothing else, I think it gives credence to one fun thought: Edgeworth only makes phone calls, while Franziska prefers texting.

[sandboxer]

edgeworth being a shit boss is so important to me. he’s absolutely unreachable and when anyone under him asks for assistance he experiences every stage of grief before telling them to “just do it” (like nike). he denies 50% of all PTO requests that end up on his desk. there are 0 unread emails in his inbox but he only replies to 1 in every 10. the most important part of his secretary’s job is making sure any prosecutor who loses a trial gets a children’s phonics workbook the next day. he only knows the names of prosecutors he’s worked with for 3+ years and calls everyone else You. he does not want to be in charge but he needs to be in charge because simply no one else could do it right (he is not doing it right).

[sandboxer]

the AA trilogy actually does a really good job of having annoying women whose only crime isn’t being women. a lot of AA’s women (particularly oldbag and lotta) get to be obnoxious and grating whilst still somewhat likable in a way that’s usually reserved for men. it’s not often we get to see female comic relief characters (especially in 2001) whose humor isn’t entirely defined by their femininity or attachment to men. and while oldbag obviously does have some humor that comes from her infatuation with edgeworth, I think more frequently her charm as a character comes from how entirely unhinged she is in general. “despite” her age and gender, she gets to be silly in the same way we see so many lovably annoying men get to be. lotta too—her whole gag is that she’s overzealous, quick to assume, and desperate to be of use. she pretty much sucks really hard, but in a way that’s still… kinda endearing. I see her the same way a lot of people see a character like larry. there’s definitely room for criticism, but I’m much more enamored by the funny moments she brings to the series. thank you ace attorney for giving us women that suck

[sandboxer]

Phoenix’s decision to become a lawyer in part to save Edgeworth often is interpreted along the lines of “Phoenix changed his life to save Edgeworth because he’s gay for him.” and while I don’t think this is necessarily untrue, I think a much more compelling and realistic interpretation is that Phoenix’s reaction to seeing somebody he loves in trouble revealed to him his deep-seated desire to protect the innocent from injustice, so he became a lawyer.

Edgeworth has, in the grand scheme of things, very little to do with why Phoenix is a lawyer. he was, however, a catalyst for Phoenix unlocking that part of himself (along with Mia!). and, to me, the sentiment that love reveals who you are is much more romantic than the idea that Phoenix made a sacrifice only to save the man he loves. loving Edgeworth brings Phoenix closer in line with his true self, and it’s through his love that he sees the potential of who he could be. even if he couldn’t save Edgeworth or if he never even came face-to-face with him again, Phoenix would remain changed by his love and would stay on this path he’s realized he’s so well-suited to. becoming a lawyer was never a sacrifice for Edgeworth; it was the realization of who Phoenix is: a protector. that he realized this through his feelings for Edgeworth is almost immaterial.

[sandboxer]

I think one of the (admittedly many) reasons Phoenix is such a difficult character to get an accurate read on is because he’s often treated as three or four separate people, by both the games and by the fandom to different extents

his evolutions can be so distinct from each other in the games that we’ve developed different names for one guy (feenie, beanix, Phoenix), and while I do think that his writing in the games is inconsistent, I also think that giving him different names during different time periods has solidified that division in our climate of opinion. we tend to flanderize each version of Phoenix to the extent that he sometimes isn’t recognizable as one cohesive character—feenie tends to be infantilized, beanix tends to be pitied, and regular phoenix tends to be idolized, especially when we’re talking about his post-AA4 self. but they’re all one guy. the separate personas tend to get played up into caricatures that rob him of nuance and, most importantly, continuity. feenie can be stubborn, beanix can be excessively optimistic, phoenix can be a rat bastard, etc and so on… because, again, they’re all just phoenix wright

I also don’t mean this as a criticism of the naming of his different evolutions, and I’m definitely guilty of the above treatment myself. I think my point here is that while the naming is useful in a ton of ways, a lot of fun complexity can be unlocked by blending him into one yummy layered Phoenix soup

[sandboxer]

the evolution of Phoenix and Edgeworth’s friendship after Phoenix becomes an attorney is so interesting to me. at the highest level, they go from one-sided-enemies to close friends. but there’s a really complicated point that spans the end of AA1 through Edgeworth’s return in JfA where they’re in this complicated limbo of not-strangers, not-enemies, not-entirely-friends. there’s clearly an immense amount of mutual respect and admiration between them, but I almost think that one was one of the largest barriers to their friendship. through Farewell My Turnabout, their relationship is almost entirely based on their careers, and there’s something almost sacred/untouchable (and, philosophically, Platonic) about their commitment to pursuing justice together. their early friendship is entirely defined by their agreement to push each other in court in order to bring about goodness.

and a relationship built entirely on Virtue and Justice is clearly admirable—but how does that translate into casual friendship? do you laud righteousness in the courtroom and then go get big macs together? I think both of them would almost see that as a degradation of the thing they’d built together. they both revere their relationship. 

and that righteous (but ultimately untenable) relationship satisfies their desire for closeness for a while. it satisfies until Edgeworth dies and Maya is kidnapped, and the dam breaks, and Phoenix needs to rely on Edgeworth as Edgeworth has relied on him. turning that friendship into something that includes emotions and flaws and even casualness must have been terrifying for both of them. but it was necessary in order to change their relationship from one where Phoenix and Edgeworth push each other to their limits in the courtroom to reach a just verdict to one where Edgeworth can relax and enjoy himself at Phoenix’s daughter’s magic shows.

[sandboxer]

I think that Edgeworth is a really fun character for many reasons but one of my favorites is how securely masculine he is despite having a handful of more flamboyant (if not feminine) preferences—his pink pajamas, the ornamental decor in his office, his showy suit, even his passionate interest in what’s intended to be a more juvenile tv show. he’s a complex man, and while some parts of him aren’t necessarily the most traditionally masculine, he still paints an imposing figure in the courtroom. he’s not emasculated by dousing his office in pink and ornate fixtures. no character implies he ought not to present himself in the way he does or enjoy the things he enjoys. so though he stands behind a few “softer” facades, he owns them, and it all only serves to make him a more respectable man as a result :’)

[sandboxer]

the seven year gap has to have been one of the most trying times for Phoenix and Edgeworth’s friendship, but it also solidifies their relationship as one they’re both dedicated to working at

up until Phoenix gets disbarred, he and Edgeworth are coworkers. there’s undeniably more to their association than just their jobs, but nearly every interaction they have—and each one we see—is anchored by a case. even when they see each other socially, there’s always the latest trial to discuss, some guise of “comparing notes” behind which they can hide their desire to see one another.

and then Phoenix is disbarred, and the only thing tethering them to one another is their mutual affection. the only framework in which they’ve known each other as adults is stripped from them. despite Phoenix’s ruined reputation, despite the loss of an excuse to see one another, despite the volatile and uneven ground on which they find themselves, their friendship survives those seven years.

sure, Phoenix mentions helping Edgeworth with legal work abroad, and Edgeworth likely plays a hand in ending the dark age of the law. and while the jurist system was no small undertaking, it’s not nearly the same thing as working alongside someone in your daily life. keeping up a friendship for seven years, even with the bits of legal work they took on together, requires significant effort—especially when one of you is raising a kid and likely depressed and the other is often abroad with a flourishing career.

this is all to say: I think Phoenix could have worked at the Borscht Bowl for the rest of his life and he and Edgeworth still would have found reasons to see one another. neither of them are willing to let that flame burn out, even when there is no cause for it other than sentiment