The Title Screen Chronicles

Video games have changed a lot since the glory days of Pong back in the 70’s, but one thing has remained relatively unchanged: the title screen. Title screens have been a part of gaming since the creation of arcade games many decades ago. However, the vast majority normally consist of a simple menu, a sparse background, and occasionally some catchy music, and as a result they are mostly forgettable. However, the title screen for the the Nintendo Wii game, Xenoblade Chronicles, manages to tell the entirety of an epic narrative in a mere 3 minutes and 37 seconds. People who have commented on their experience watching this screen have lauded it for its emotional pull, and many say that they cannot start the game without watching the screen each and every time they boot the game up. It truly captures the feelings of adventure and strife that defines the story and experience, and it confirms the identity of the game as a coming of age tale. The game’s opening uses visual cues and a musical piece composed and arranged by renowned video game composer Yōko Shinomura to convey emotions and a story, ultimately telling the coming of age tale that is Xenoblade Chronicles in four distinct sections (day, dusk, night, and day once more) despite having next to no text or dialogue present.

The day section of the screen’s visuals are quite peaceful, but several key details are at odds with the calm. As the screen opens to a cerulean cloudy sky, the player’s attention is immediately drawn to the bright red sword embedded in the ground at the forefront of the screen with a chunk of mechanical metal beside it. The sword’s unique color, futuristic design, and engraved patterns contrast greatly with the peaceful sky, slowly shifting grassy plain, and gently rolling hills that make up the background. The screen then brightens up with the coming of day, and the sky turns a brighter blue. By this time, a sense of foreboding has been instilled in the players. The scenery is quiet and calm, but the rose-colored sword in the center makes the player uneasy. Everything appears beautiful, but the sword makes the calm appear unreal, as if real peace existed long ago, before the events of the game came to pass. The whole situation lacks the completeness that true tranquility possesses, and the players cannot help but feel uncertain about and curious for what is to come. By this time, some attention has been paid to the metal adjacent to the sword, and its dull and worn nature once again suggests that this land was once one of serenity, but struggles prior to the course of the game tarnished it, and that reminders of this conflict can be found throughout the world. Together, the metal and the sword act as exposition, giving images to the land of Xenoblade Chronicles. These details serve as facts in order to draw the players in by making them ask logical questions about the world they are about to dive into, engrossing them in the environment. These visuals help set the stage for the game, introducing concepts and a central theme, much like the first few chapters in a novel.

The melancholic music that accompanies the visuals also adds to the idea of a hard-fought peace. Shinomura starts the piece with a few gentle piano notes, which after a brief but noticeable lull is accompanied by the low hum of string instruments for few seconds. The piano then takes a small solo again for a few more seconds before the strings are brought back once more. However, neither the piano nor the strings play loudly, or even confidently. The instruments are played softly, and it almost sounds as if the they are playing quietly in reverence, as if they have stumbled upon a former battleground they barely dare to disturb. The result is unsettling, working with the visuals to unnerve the players. It makes the calm serenity of the grassy plain seem transient, ephemeral even. The music feels almost like a mournful dirge, and the players cannot help but start to feel attached to this world. By this point, a main melody has been established, and the piano holds it for little while longer. Soon, however, Shinomura lets other instruments have their turns, with flute, violin, and oboe taking each holding the melody briefly. The tone here solidifies the feelings of unease that the music and the scenery inspired within the player earlier, as the melancholic feel is now amplified by individual elements of the song; The somber flute embodies a restrained sort of regret, while the straining violin gives off the air of feelings that can no longer be held back, adding a dramatic element to the previously controlled sadness of the song. These solos create a sense of multiple characters, each working together to tell different parts of the story. Each instrument has its own unique identity, and in a way this part of the song introduces characters for the players to relate to. The solos give pseudo faces to the struggle that the screen has been hinting at until now, making the screen feel more personal and real. Combined with the earlier idea of a past conflict, this part of the song forges a sense of overcoming adversity together. These different audio elements add to the visuals from before, further drawing the players in and sparking their curiosity. Together, the scenery and the music work in tandem to create a kind of exposition for the story that is to come, establishing the ideas of a once beautiful world that has been scarred by war and a necessity to grow up and work together in order to face the challenges ahead.

The subsequent dusk section builds on the concepts hinted at earlier, with the visuals and music working as one to fully engage the player in the world of Xenoblade Chronicles. Until now, the screen has been pretty consistent with its sights and sounds, but at 1 minute and 27 seconds a reddish-orange glow starts to pervade the right side of the screen, and the music takes a dramatic turn. Visually, the sky on the left turns a bright yellow-orange, and clouds on the right are soon obscured by the vibrant yellow sun. The rose colored-sword shines alone in light while the metal is further obscured by the rays hitting its dull surface, effectively fading from the players’ attention. While the sun sets, Shinomura lets loose as she creates a dynamic wave of sound that engulfs the players: the violin now soars with the melody, standing out from the hard-flowing piano notes and symphony of supporting string instruments and orchestra hits. The other instruments play a much faster tempo than the violin, giving the music an urgent feeling. The rising chord progression (the music’s pitch increases in an organized fashion) creates a sense of slow but powerful growth, emulating the idea of a story’s rising action. Soon, the piece swells to a climax, and the piano and violin hold the top of the piece together towards the end, culminating in a theatrical finish with each of the instruments pausing after a few final piano notes. This powerful and captivating section of the score serves to engage the players’ emotions, illustrating through sound the struggles they will face throughout the game. Meanwhile, the gleaming sword’s prominence is not lost throughout the music, and the players’ attention and attachment to it continues to grow as the music climbs higher and higher. The sword’s brightness ensures it a place in the players’ minds, inspiring a desire within them to have amazing adventures of their own with it in hand. These visual and audio elements combine to immerse and fascinate the players, drawing them into the world of Xenoblade Chronicles with emotionally intense music and a sword that takes center stage in both the players’ eyes and in their hearts.

After the dawn section’s climactic finish, the screen fades to a nighttime setting that plays the role of a conclusion, as it makes the players feel older and wiser. Right as the music climaxes, the sword’s patterns begin to glow a soft teal. As the sun sets with music, the patterns glow brighter, with light moving across the sword in a set pattern, hinting at unique abilities that the sword may possess. As the sun sets in the background, the sky turns to night, with a deep cloud bank towards the bottom and a wide open sky full of stars above. The music that accompanies this part is reminiscent of the first section, but with an even more somber tone. The violin repeats the melody of the first section with some underlying string instruments accompanying it, just like in the beginning. However, this time the violin sounds less precise and more subdued than before, and it quickly fades away to the piano notes that started the song. Shinomura’s decision to reuse the melody from the beginning and distort it slightly creates a sense of progression, making the players feel as if they have been a part of something from beginning to end. It as if they have grown with the story, and as a result the players feel more even more in tune with the game. Furthermore, the relative peacefulness of this section acts a sort of falling action/conclusion for the players after the intense dusk section, making sure that the players realize that the game is more than just an intense action tale. Together, the starry sky, the glowing sword, and the mournful music makes the players think of what came prior to this moment, and they inspire within them a feeling of knowledge and appreciation for the story.

The final day section of this screen acts like an epilogue, adding hindsight and respect as final components to the piece. As the music ends, the sword’s glow fades, and the sky begins to light up as another day dawns. However, it does so without the brilliance of an orange sunrise. Rather, the sky itself just turns lighter, eventually looping back to the dark, cloudy blue sky that the screen opened to in the beginning. This visual in particular confirms the coming of age element that was present throughout the piece, as it implies that the characters and the players have grown up and are ready to face a new day. The trials of yesterday are over, but that is not necessarily a cause for celebration, as the absence of a bright sunset shows. Rather, the slow brightening of the sky indicates that the story deserves a kind of quiet reverence. This small touch ensures that players realize the magnitude and depth of the story they have just witnessed, and it has a humbling effect on them. The music that plays is decidedly quiet, and the piano that repeats the melody is fleeting compared to before, almost disappearing before coming back for just a few, brief, single, quiet notes before giving way to the low, somber hum of string instruments. The creators of the screen and Shinomura resist falling into the temptation of ending such an emotional piece with a melodramatic finish, instead choosing to bring the entire screen full circle. The result is a feeling of soft finality when the screen ends, enough so that the players are left reeling and enthralled, but not nearly enough to satisfy their taste for adventure. In fact, many people who have seen this screen but have not played the game itself have stated after watching it that they wished they had bought this game, with several declaring that they will buy both the game system and the game itself ($150-$199 total depending on the vendor) just to play it. In the end, the effect of this final section is that the players are left feeling eager to experience the story of Xenoblade Chronicles for themselves, hungry for more.