Beyond Good & Evil seemed doomed to cult status from the start. It had all the hallmarks: a science fiction story rife with political themes, an alien invasion, and a conspiracy or two. Some may also argue it starred an unusual protagonist, Jade, whose distinguishing characteristic as a female video game protagonist was that she wore loose-fitting jeans instead of a thong. On second thought, that there probably explains the lackluster sales.

But in retrospect, Beyond Good and Evil is not quite the classic it appeared to be in late 2003. Critically, like most video games with a high concept and philosophical and/or political messages, its edgy themes were reduced to pragmatic game mechanics. The primary example is Jade's camera. This item was to be wielded as a weapon, we were told, and this was going to make a statement about the power of media in our world. In practice, however, it became a simple, linear gameplay element that evoked no real thought processes. “Go to the factory and photograph some evidence!” says Jade’s boss, which is different than saying, “Go blow up the factory!” to be sure. But the game is no Network.

It is also difficult to shrug off accusations that the game aped Wind Waker, released months earlier. Both games feature an overworld navigated by boat, and both feature puzzle-solving dungeon levels and progressive inventories. Still, Beyond Good & Evil is full of pleasant surprises, and the comparisons, while intriguing, are ultimately reductionist. Very few Zelda-style games exist at all, for one thing, so to create a game in the same subgenre as Zelda is more of a compliment than not, especially if you're successful at it. And Beyond Good & Evil is certainly successful.

It also adds to the formula in interesting ways, particularly with the buddy AI system. Pig-man Pey’J and soldier Double H are far cries from Zelda’s Navi faerie sidekick, offering little tutorial advice and instead functioning like additional limbs. They are neither annoying nor useless, and their buddy AI remains one of the best implementations to date. Both characters reject the typical plucky personalities of sidekicks. Pey’J is father-like, cheerful but down to earth. Double H is comedic, an over-strung soldier who is more apt to quote from his field manual than simply state his opinion.

More than anything, it's characterization that sets Beyond Good & Evil apart from both contemporaries and games of today. Chief among the game’s characters, surprisingly, is the city. Over the course of the game, the city turns from a passive population of simple citizens to a hotbed of political strife. It's a subtle development, and its strength lies in the fact that, like any good character, its transitions are neither immediate nor arbitrary.

The city is interesting enough that the game’s length is actually something of a sore spot. When a world like Hillys, where the game takes place, is done so well, you would give almost anything to live in a world created by these developers just a little bit longer. A 60-hour epic would not have made the game worth its price, it would have just tripled the quantity of enjoyment found here.

Jade proves herself the least interesting character. Her personality is mostly flat, and her growth as a character is all too predictable. Last minute plot twists do little to amend this. Her changes of allegiance, and bouts of defiance, are performed too mechanically and too staidly to intrigue. It's a shame, too, about that belly shirt. While she's never overtly sexualized, and she plays Mario to the damsel more often than not, such compromises seem an odd fit for the character.

Today, Beyond Good & Evil struggles to escape a gnawing sense of irrelevance, though it's clear from the title (read: Friedrich Nietzsche) that it desperately wants to be taken seriously. Despite its strong story and characterization, it lacks Zelda’s simplistic joy of discovery, and its political undertones are more wasted potential than thought-provoking philosophy. Yet it is confident in its own mythology, and if it compromises its political vision for gameplay, it never does so with its setting. That alone makes the game worthwhile, and the prospect of a serious sequel is alluring. If Beyond Good & Evil 2 is able to push its message through gameplay, rather than surrender to it, it will be worth the wait.