Apollo Justice: Shady Attorney?

Apollo has only 4 cases under his belt, but he’s already made quite a name for himself (rather like his mentor, Phoenix, actually). He’s undoubtedly the talk of the town for revealing the bombshell truth behind the dissolution of Troupe Gramarye, Phoenix Wright’s disbarment, and the sudden, unexpected fall of once-renowned defense attorney Kristoph Gavin. However, all is not rosy for the “passionate heart burning red.” It’s easy to overlook, considering Apollo himself is such a good guy, but in only 4 cases, Apollo has managed to rub shoulders and establish ties with as many genuine criminals as Phoenix did in his entire career. What is more, if subjected to just a little scrutiny, one crucial detail, combined with how questionable his client history appears to the disinterested observer, could cause Apollo’s promising career to come crashing down like a cursed house of cards. On what grounds do these claims rest, and what could they mean for Apollo? Let’s take a look.

(Before going any further, it should be made clear that I’m specifically referring to criminal ties through the client. For example, Phoenix has definitely crossed the mob far more than Apollo has, but never by way of the person he was defending.)

Let’s examine Phoenix’s client history first. Over the course of his 13 playable cases spanning 4 games, Phoenix has gotten a genuine criminal for a client only about once a game, on average. In GS1, it was Lana Skye. She may have been innocent of Bruce Goodman’s death, but she was guilty of tampering with the body (not to mention tampering with the crime scene of Neil Marshall’s murder and the umpteen other crimes Gant almost certainly made her commit over the course of 2 or 3 years). In GS2, the guilty party was (obviously!) Matt Engarde. No, he didn’t technically kill anybody, but he was enough of a slimeball to hire an assassin to do his dirty work for him. In GS3, we actually had two guilty parties. In case 3-2, Ron Delite was no murderer, but he really was Mask*DeMasque, with all of the thieving and pilfering that implies. (Thanks to some clever finagling, though, he was never actually convicted for it.) Finally, in case 3-5, Iris’s hands were clean of blood, but she, like others before her, couldn’t keep her hands off that crime scene.

If we turn our attention to Apollo, we see that not only does he have his own share of dubious clients, he has also managed to rack them up consecutively. In case 4-2, he successfully defended the son of a mafia boss. Think about that again. He didn’t just encounter the mafia, he defended one of their own! It doesn’t even really matter that Wocky was innocent of the crime he was accused of, the point is Apollo worked for these people and (presumably) accepted money from them for his services. You could say it doesn’t really matter, but just think about how it sounds when you hear of a defense attorney who has successfully defended the mob…

Things would be bad enough for Apollo if that were his only crooked tie, but the fun doesn’t stop there. In case 4-3, he defended a wanted smuggler. This is certainly not on the same order as murder or the like, but if Gyakuten Kenji is any indication, it’s still serious business. Finally, we arrive at case 4-4, where Apollo’s client is…a forger. Not just of art, either. No, we’re talking about one of those talented forgers, one of those people who can produce that accursed bugaboo of the entire series—forged evidence.

So, both Phoenix and Apollo have had more than a few criminals for clients. This never really came back to bite Phoenix, though, so why it should hurt Apollo? Well, it may be true that Phoenix never came out the worse for his clients’ criminal activities, but Apollo’s situation is significantly different. Again, consider just how things look overall: he has, to date, defended the son of a mob boss, a smuggler, and a forger. Never mind that guilt by association is not always a fair standard, just think about how that looks. Then remember that his first client was none other than the infamous “Forgin’ Attorney,” Phoenix Wright. (Again, don’t think about the facts, just consider public perception.) Every single case Apollo has taken thus far, his client has been, shall we say, questionable. (Even if we remember that Phoenix was ultimately exonerated, then Apollo simply trades one fishy relationship for another, considering his former boss Kristoph was accordingly exposed as a totally unscrupulous and manipulative piece of trash).

Again you may say, so what? It’s all guilt by association. This is true. However, now we come to the coup de grâce, the one thing that would, together with his slew of shady connections, really kill Apollo's career: he is guilty of presenting forged evidence in court, in case 4-1.

This simple fact is incredibly easy to forget because the game glosses over it, indeed, deliberately shifts the focus to Phoenix and his crime in creating the forged evidence. However, Apollo’s role in using it cannot be ignored. As the game makes abundantly clear later on, the attorney is responsible for the evidence he presents in court. Ergo, it doesn’t matter how Apollo got the forged evidence, nor does it matter that he had no hand in its creation. The bottom line is, he presented it in court, and Phoenix told him flat-out after the trial was over that it was forged. At the time it is presented, Kristoph, too, plainly declares that the evidence is fraudulent, but Apollo is only saved by Phoenix retorting that Kristoph would only know that if he were the killer. The issue is never raised after that, but it still remains. Looking at what happened to Phoenix as an example, Apollo’s career could be sunk all too easily just because of this alone. Throw in the rogue’s gallery of clients from before, and Apollo is really treading a fine line over his reputation. It’s all too easy to imagine a scenario wherein Apollo gets blackmailed over this incident or is somehow otherwise threatened over his murky past.

You may be wondering what my point was in saying all this. I’m sorry if it was difficult to discern, but all I really wanted to convey is that, just observing him “objectively,” from the outside, Apollo looks like a REALLY shady guy! Put together with the fact that he is guilty of presenting forged evidence, someone could put a quick end to his legal career with just a little digging. Does anything remotely like this have to happen? Of course not! Heck, at this point we don’t even know if there’s going to BE a GS5, let alone what the plot details would be. But even assuming Apollo was the protagonist, there’s no reason to also assume that the writers would take the story in this direction. Nevertheless, it just struck me as kind of a huge deal, not something they would do for just no reason, and not something they should be able to just quietly forget about. But hey, it could happen. After all, they were ready to consider the “new era” of Ace Attorney concluded after only one game.

King of Prosecutors: What Makes Edgeworth Unique

It could be said that Miles Edgeworth, the series’ first main prosecutor and Phoenix Wright’s closest friend, is a pretty popular character, well-loved for his suave demeanor and witty performances in court. At the very least, he was the prosecutor chosen to star in Capcom’s spin-off game, Gyakuten Kenji, as opposed to someone else. However, there are arguably at least a few other qualities that set him apart from the other three main prosecutors—Franziska von Karma, Godot and Klavier Gavin—and my interest in Edgeworth as a character has led me to write about these.

Perhaps most striking about Edgeworth is that he is the only prosecutor who does not seek the protagonist out for his own personal reasons. Just the opposite, Phoenix is the one seeking Edgeworth out so he can confront him about the “demon prosecutor” rumors. This stands in stark contrast to the other three, who (at least initially) go up against the protagonist with their own personal vendettas: Franziska wants to beat Phoenix as “revenge” against Edgeworth; Godot wishes to do the same out of contempt for Phoenix’s character and the fact that he blames Phoenix for Mia’s death; even Klavier first faces Apollo with the express intent of appraising the skill of “the little boy who bested [his] brother.” As further proof that he sought out Apollo, Klavier states that he had to “cancel a show or two” to be there, but that “[he] wouldn’t miss this day in court for the world.”

A characteristic of Edgeworth which is just as noticeable is that, at least compared to the other three, he treats his opponent rather humanely and respectfully. It is true that he fairly frequently belittles Phoenix, often with a condescending smile, but it is just as true that Phoenix often does and says things in court that are deserving of at least some degree of scorn. Franziska and Godot, meanwhile, are nowhere in the same universe as common civility. Franziska mercilessly whips Phoenix and childishly calls him a fool countless times, while Godot does not even deign to get Phoenix’s name right, insults him at almost every opportunity, and even throws his mug full of scalding hot coffee at him on occasion. Though Klavier is definitely more civil than the other two, even he is somewhat contemptuous, often mocking Apollo without provocation and calling him “Herr Forehead.” (On a related note, another indication of Klavier’s slightly scarred character is that he laughs when he informs Wocky Kitaki that he could die soon. Granted, Wocky is the son of gangsters, reasonably suspected of murder and a punk to boot, but still.)

One last quality that distinguishes Edgeworth is that he has no real gimmick (unless you want to count his frilly cravat and manner of dress in general), no quirk to associate with him, no memorable theme song. Franziska, though she has no theme either, definitely has her whip, which has got to be the definition of the words “gimmick” and “quirk.” Godot, too, will forever be remembered for his iconic coffee mug (and the plethora of questionable coffee metaphors that came with it) almost as much as for his catchy theme. Klavier more than holds his end up too, with his rock-star side job and persona, complete with a rockin’ theme. With such flamboyance and swagger coming from the other three, Edgeworth looks pretty plain in comparison, but his character shines all the more because he relies on no gimmick to be compelling.

In closing, the reader may be wondering why I bothered writing this, since I don’t really have anything new to say. I must admit this essay was born primarily out of my love for Edgeworth as a character. He is, in fact, my favorite character in the entire series, and as such I have a tendency to compare him with the others, particularly the main prosecutors. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Edgeworth was quite different from the prosecutors who followed him, so I laid out the differences in writing simply because they interested me. You may not have found anything I wrote of interest, but I hope you did.

“If I wasn’t laughing…I’d weep”: Klavier Gavin’s Trials and Tribulations

“I’ll bet that smile doesn’t go very deep.”

-Apollo Justice reflecting on Trucy Wright, GS4

Klavier Gavin—star prosecutor of his generation and formerly the lead singer of his own hit band, the Gavinners—is undoubtedly the most open “opponent” in the series to date, as well as the least antagonistic. An easy smile nearly always on his face, he likes to keep the courtroom atmosphere light. However, within the timeframe of GS4, multiple personal tragedies take place that raise questions about his internal stability and, in turn, his ability to maintain his outward buoyancy.

GS4 starts off with a bang when the murderer for case 4-1 turns out to be none other than Apollo’s suave and sophisticated mentor, Kristoph Gavin. There is little to no exposition of Klavier’s feelings about this in the game, but some hints are offered. When Apollo and Klavier first face off in case 4-2, Klavier describes Apollo as the “little boy who bested my brother.” The unmistakable disdain in his tone could be a reflection of the emotions he is still feeling over the incident. (Learning that your older brother killed somebody, after all, would be no insignificant thing, not to mention the idea of that same older brother—a highly skilled attorney—being brought to justice by his own rookie apprentice.) However, any shock, anger or disillusionment felt by Klavier over his older brother’s crime can be guessed at, but are never made explicit.

Klavier continues to suffer when his best friend and band-mate, Daryan Crescend, is found guilty for the murder of Romein LeTouse, an Interpol agent. Daryan’s crime in itself is bad enough, but the fact that he is a detective at the local precinct and has worked with Klavier on past cases makes it even worse. Possibly the aspect of the crime that cuts deepest, though, is the fact that Daryan took advantage of his closeness to Klavier in order to carry out the smuggling of the Borginian cocoon. Again, Klavier keeps his emotions in check for the majority of the trial, but his facade disappears briefly when the truth of Daryan’s personal betrayal comes to light. Yet, by the end of the trial he appears to have resigned himself to Daryan’s guilt. His calm appearance notwithstanding, it is highly likely that he was still struggling to accept what had just happened, at least to some degree.

Let’s take stock of the situation now. In the span of about a month and a half, Klavier was betrayed by his older brother and his best friend, both having committed murder. It is no great stretch to assume the pain and disillusionment he felt over these incidents. Sadly, these were both overshadowed by a far worse tragedy.

The greatest and most devastating revelations take place in case 4-4, and they are as numerous as they are damaging. It was Kristoph Gavin who forged evidence, not Phoenix Wright, whom Klavier had believed to be guilty of said crime for seven whole years; it was Kristoph Gavin who, upon being dismissed by Zak Gramarye, manipulated Klavier into treating Phoenix hostilely and having a special witness ready to decisively condemn him; it was Kristoph Gavin who, having concluded his business with the Mishams, took “protective measures” that resulted in the death of Drew and the near death of Vera, in addition to keeping watch on any others connected to the Gramaryes (namely Phoenix and Spark Brushel); finally, upon being proven guilty of all these crimes, Kristoph flies into a fearful rage, eliminating any remaining vestiges of dignity and respectability. Regarding the suspicious circumstances behind the Zak Gramarye trial, Klavier himself was aware that all was not well, so though the degree of his brother’s guilt may have far exceeded his worst suspicions, he was still probably at least a little prepared for the truth. Nonetheless, the burden was surely a grievous one, a fact best exemplified by the quote this essay is named for:

Klavier: Incredible. If I wasn’t laughing…I’d weep.

The game ends with Kristoph’s fate (insane asylum? death row?) unknown and Klavier’s dissolvement of the Gavinners. With this new emotional scar to bear, will he form a relationship with Apollo, a relationship with chemistry comparable to that which Phoenix and Miles Edgeworth share? Or will he keep his emotions bottled up inside and just deal with it as he’s been doing (at least as far as we know)? One can only do that for so long without it being noticeable, though. It could very well be that Klavier’s personality will undergo subtle changes due to the psychological damage he has born. Whatever happens, though, one thing is certain: Klavier Gavin’s personal traumas cannot be ignored in the evolution of his character, and they will affect him one way or another.

Note: The following text is supplementary and subject to perspective.

As a possible supplement, consider this: it is said that the eyes are the window to the soul. If this is true, and if the mouth by comparison can feign emotions, compare the close-up of Klavier’s whole face with the close-up of just his eyes. Does the picture of just his eyes seem angrier than the one in which his whole face is visible, even though the former seems to be just a smaller slice of the latter?

Reborn From the Ashes...Or Still Smoldering? The Character of Phoenix Wright Since He Lost His Badge

“He still feels the pain now, you can see it in his eyes.”

-Detective Gumshoe, GS1

Gumshoe may have been talking about Miles Edgeworth in this quote, but now those same words could apply to a certain former attorney. Anyone who has played GS4 can instantly confirm that Phoenix Wright is not the same person he was in the previous games. So what was responsible for this “turnabout” in character? Or did he really change that much at all? To begin answering this question, let’s start by taking a look at the past.

The previous titles in the series give us a solid and consistent idea of Phoenix’s personality. Indeed, we know him better than any other character in the series so far. (Not surprising, considering he’s been the protagonist for three games in a row.) In court, he’s headstrong and determined, shifting between confidence and despair as the case at hand twists and turns. As a person, he’s a down-to-earth realist surrounded by slightly eccentric friends (Maya, Gumshoe, Larry) and really eccentric acquaintances (Ron DeLite, Wendy Oldbag, almost any character in the entire series). Above all, though, he is an optimist at heart who believes in others, even when they ultimately don’t deserve his good faith (Matt Engarde). This general framework of his character stays mostly the same for the first three games. However, between GS3 and GS4, seven years pass, and a lot can happen in that time.

When GS4 starts, Phoenix is being tried for murder for the third time. This detail, though, is probably the last thing that would occur to someone who has known Phoenix in years past. Most likely, the first thing the player will notice is his appearance. Gone are his trim blue suit and red tie, and his characteristic spiky hair is well-covered by the beanie atop his head. Instead, a loose gray hoodie and dark pants greet the player; sandals cover his feet and a layer of stubble is clearly visible upon his face. His lowered eye-lids and lazy smile alone are probably enough to disturb series veterans, but his appearance is barely comparable to his behavior. He is on trial for his life, but he seems largely unconcerned about his predicament. What’s more, he even seems to be enjoying himself throughout the proceedings. Furthermore, he never betrays any sign of worry, fear or uncertainty. Ultimately, Phoenix is acquitted, but the player is left still wondering: “What on earth happened to this man, this character I once knew and loved?!” A good illustration of this feeling occurs when Phoenix tells Apollo that he forged the playing card that convicted Kristoph Gavin.

Apollo: But…But you can’t do something like that and call yourself an attorney!

Phoenix: Who’s calling themselves an attorney, Apollo?

Apollo: So it’s true… The rumor is true! Seven years ago…

Phoenix: …None of that matters much now, does it?

Phoenix knows full well he is innocent of the forgery from seven years ago, and he could tell Apollo so, too. Yet he chooses not to. He just lets Apollo think what we will. He also takes Apollo’s subsequent upper-cut without demur. His apparent lack of emotion—it could even be called apathy—is truly shocking to those who knew him before. “Did he really just say that? How could he have changed so much, how could he be so insouciant?!” The explanation behind it is arguably both predictable and unexpected.

The obvious cause behind Phoenix’s apparent personality overhaul is the outcome of the Zak Gramarye trial, his last trial. He was given forged evidence to use, completely unaware of its illegality. After presenting it in court, he was disgracefully stripped of his attorney’s badge at the hands of a malicious colleague—Kristoph Gavin—whose sole motivation behind his actions was foolish pride and personal contempt. The circumstances behind this spiteful act were definitely a crushing blow to Phoenix and his general faith in people. At first glance, it seems he could still be suffering acute emotional damage. However, though he is undoubtedly still affected by his personal tragedy, a key piece of insight may tell us another part of the story.

It’s harder to analyze a character when you can’t read his thoughts (the majority of GS4 is played from Apollo’s perspective, of course). Accordingly, the portion of the game involving the MASON System is that much more valuable, as it allows us to know how Phoenix really thinks and feels during the time frame of the fourth game, not just what we can observe from a third-person perspective. As it turns out, the overall tone and substance of Phoenix’s words and thoughts are not notably different from those of previous games. Two great examples of this can be seen when Phoenix visits Drew Studios after Drew Misham’s murder. First, upon examining the miniature human model:

Phoenix: OBJECTION!

…I just have to do that when I see this pose.

I can’t believe it’s been seven years…

…I have to stop torturing myself with these things!

I know! I’ll just pretend it’s saying something else.

“The post office? Why, it’s right over there! Good day, sir!”

Second, when talking to Spark Brushel:

Brushel: People and events all get tangled together and get biggerer and biggerer…

…don’tcha think?

Phoenix: (I was too busy wondering about “biggerer” to listen to what you were saying.)

Now that sounds much more like the wryly sarcastic Phoenix we know. A sign of his familiar spirit can also be seen throughout the game when he occasionally opens his eyes completely and smiles, as opposed to when his eye-lids are lowered. So how can the cool exterior he frequently puts on be explained? I believe he simply became more confident in himself and learned how to better mask his uncertainty in the face of adversity. As for why he didn’t immediately tell Apollo the truth about the Zak Gramarye trial, he could have just felt the time was not yet right.

Regarding Phoenix’s transition from a somewhat perturbable guy to someone who is more collected, a similar process can be observed in another character, Mia Fey, though in her case the order we see it in is reversed. For two games we become accustomed to thinking of Mia as the unshakable pillar, the steady-minded mentor who never caves in to pressure or seemingly hopeless situations. Even during case 2-4, when hope is at a nadir, she continues to urge Phoenix on and encourage him. In the third game, though, we see she wasn’t always so cool and calm. Before each of her first two trials she shows similar, if not greater, levels of stress than Phoenix did before his own first trial.

With this comparison in mind, it could be said that Phoenix has reached a point where he must be a pillar for other people (Trucy in particular and perhaps Apollo as well), so he switches between being more stoic and being more open as necessary. So did Phoenix really change? Maybe not as much as it seems.