NOTE: Major Soul Catching and Love Catching spoilers. :NOTE

Im sure youve tired of my innovative narrate what occurs onscreen analytical style, but the game rests on its transitory initial mood. Moon isnt simply the lost Earthbound game, graceful fiction in a palatable nostalgia shell. Its come to bury the RPG as it praises it. Nearly every game Nishi, Kudou, and Kimura produced comes from a God-blessed universe where the American/European and Japanese adventure game fused and took its rightful place atop the artistic hierarchy. The armies, guns, fists, and swords marking every other genre make destruction pleasurable, setting them against the upbuilding discourse Love-De-Lic observes in the graphic adventure.In Moon, the JRPG blatantly violates the inherent communal tranquility of the adventure game world. Boy likely spends the next day exploring the castle and town of Love-De-Gard, making small talk and purchases. As he returns to Grannys house, he witnesses 1 of many murders (as the game calls them). http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZKKwfHNenYQ#t=8m48s&feature=PlayList&p=4D426F4EC09E6ABB Its, well, funny. You remember it from Fake Moon, Sly the slime electrocutes amusingly, and Hero obliviously pushes onward. Youll see Hero kick in peoples doors and rob them, and youll chuckle at RPG conventions. As Hero gets stronger, however, he kills more effectively and with greater savagery. He roasts a tribes fish god alive, and he rends right through an elephantine enemy. He puts arrows through dogs and lays low a whole household of humanoids. At times, youll watch him crow as Level Up! appears above his helm. Simpler RPG parodies have abstracted the grind before but Moon presses the point until discomfort. Boy spends most of his time interacting in populous places, so he scarcely sees Hero. Boy simply happens upon the destruction Hero wreaks when he ventures into dungeons. The aftermath would be eerie but for the more profound shame that occurs when Boy does encounter Hero. A fallen slime, the adoration of the villagers, Heros supposed ability to move boulders, and an encounter at a peculiarly American-looking house all reinforce the notion that whats occurred was preordained mere hours ago. Boy isnt merely in Moon. Hes atoning for his playthrough by witnessing it firsthand.The player must watch all of this. Though there are many secrets and dedicated tasks to miss, every player learns that the JRPG model possesses a distancing, ugly core. Moon: Remix RPG Adventures characters, dialogue, and mechanics subtly denigrate Japan for making destructive gameplay the norm during the NES-Master System era. (I shouldnt claim that every second of Moon is austere mockery. A hobo named Gase is a hostile old man who collects stuff of no value. He even makes wild claims about his identity that are familiar to fans of a certain game developer. Oh, and he essentially concludes them with, But Im poor now. Was part of Squares old Nintendo contract utter contempt for the competition?) The argument isnt heady, so the solutions are appropriately simple. Boy comes across animal corpses by happenstance or effort, at which time he identifies them in his bestiary. The bestiary describes how the creature passed its life. Even those who play poorly or on a superficial level can grasp the means of progress. Boy must absolve himself by putting the animals souls to rest. A souls presence may depend on Moons simulated days and weeks, on a peculiar habit, or on the players dexterous thumbs. A caught soul returns to its body and a U.F.O. takes it into space, whereupon Boy is rewarded with Love. As Boy gains more Love, he can exist in Moon longer without resting. Ive taken a reverent tone throughout this piece, so let me relate that the 52 puzzles are not profound and arent designed to be so. They are the principal means to ease travel, community, and puzzle-solving, so theyre appropriately lighthearted. Reanimate the corpses of Jimi and Bonzo (animals, mind you!), so they can reunite Animal Sacrifice for a swansong. Resemble carrion, so the vulture-like creature circles down from the sky. At the American-style home, you can only catch the Mister Value (yes, its a tray of McDonalds food) if you have 500 neka, plus tax. I favor Eternal Dog God, who is related to Tao somehow. Every location Tao frequents yields nothing, so the exasperated player resorts to tracking his movements. At the dead of night, Tao runs out of the house into the middle of the woods. Boy stalks him, only to realize that Taos simply relieving himself. And, lo, from the ether, Eternal Dog God sniffs Taos urine pool! The presence of scatological jokes isnt what marks soul catching, however. The process is so wearisome. Each new location reveals a handful of warm bodies Hero dispatched in seconds. Boy toils for at least 10 minutes to save each animals soul, which builds to an incremental disgust as the player reaches his 15th or 20th hour. Your wonder when introduced to Rabanastre or a Suikoden castle is exactly inverted here. Hero has already exhausted the locales possibilities, so Boy must bear the consequences. The cataclysm of the sidescrolling shooter, the turn-based tactics game, and the Japanese role-playing game are salved by the Western adventure game.At a few thousand words, however, we can transcend superficialities. Moon is a blueprint, not a diatribe or a parody. Soul catching advances the easy critique and the easy laugh: its a clever game that makes Boy wash his hands before catching the soul patrolling the bathroom and video games certainly are pandering, delusional timewasters. Love catching guards the rhetorical flank: Who cares? Theyre just games. The weeaboos and teabaggers who think this way may casually solve the aforementioned brainteasers, but they must bend to Moons ultimate design. The inhabitants of Love-De-Gard are troubled people. Let me underline that: the characters are people, not flags or plot contrivances or lockboxes for precious items. They live something like lives, different each day and each week. Though Jordan Mechner limited The Last Express similar gameplay impeccably, he unknowingly limited the potency of his themes. Robert Cath and the supporting cast are purposely mercenary in their interactions. Every player action, then, is akin to managing political constituencies, not consoling aggrieved friends. The player never cares about August as an idea personified nor Milo as a character and, indeed, Mechner never directs the player to do so. No amount of Caths harassment or questions will prevent Mechner from orchestrating his characters around Paths A or B. The train passengers reciprocate: Anna wont learn from Cath unless the plot dictates it, and Tatyanas course is as fixed as any Kingdom Hearts NPCs. Measure The Last Express active world against Moons, Fallouts apocalyptic world against U.F.O.s, and SimCitys life-simulation against L.O.L.s, and the comparison becomes clear. The Wests games may innovate spectacularly, but theyre soulless and purposeless at the essential level. Since Im not a trolling blogger anxious for any opportunity to throw garbage Peter Molyneuxs way, let me briefly describe my favorite bit of Love-De-Lics assertion. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVkQw173Li0 (I apologize. This is 1 of only a couple scripted events, though you can fail it. This is also 1 of only 2 times where the girl playing has no idea what shes doing. I actually cut minutes from this, and the drama and humor are still compromised.) An introduction for the unfamiliar: Mamas is the housewife of the 50s-era American family. Shes initially materialistic and dependent on appliances. Daia is the daughter, and she loves/loves to battle with her pet Perogon. Her birthday party, featured here, is as Perogon-obsessed as many kids were at Pokémons zenith. Papas is a famed comics artist, the creator of Platina Surfer, X-Man, and Scawn. See, he has a horrible case of writers block. He hasnt invented any new characters in a long time, and, desperate, hes beginning to appropriate other cultures. If Boy looks at his drawing board, hes learning to draw Japanese, shounen-like characters. His prototype character looks like Goku from Dragon Ball. After Daia has opened her birthday present (a massive stuffed Perogon), a familiar clanking noise occurs outside. As Daia sprints to save her beloved pet, you recall that the house was the backdrop for 1 of Heros Fake Moon battles. Perogons death is fated because of your actions. If you try to make like Crono and offer a JRPG heros sacrifice, you waste time and Hero slays Perogon. If you look for weapons or special items or power-ups, you exhaust your time and Perogon is murdered. If you adhere to Moons principles, however, youll apply altruistic adventure game thinking. The only thing Hero wants at this moment is to perpetuate his delusions of power. Perogon is simply an entry in a quest log. Thus, Boy must give him the battle that occurred in Fake Moon. If you recall, Perogon developed both inexplicable JRPG conventions: duplicating a false self and catching fire. Boy rips open the back of the Perogon doll and waddles obliviously out the door. Hero is momentarily confused, but Perogons growl gives him away. You run Boy to the fireplace, who storms out aflame and would be killed but for the dolls stuffing. Hero, ever proud, walks away victorious. Suddenly, Papas has a burst of imagination! He sets to work on Hero-Man, which must surely be the tale of a virtuous invisible boy against a thoughtless world!The West doesnt understand.Youd rightly object, of course. Removed from context, the Battle Of American House is but a Luigis Mansion puzzle in which the family was mere plot point. If this is emblematic of the games soul catching, Moons a creative failure. Would a series of such condensed incidents create a critical failure, however? With apologies to Anthony Gallegos and Alice Liang, could those who complained about the purposeless villager interaction in Little Kings Story care about a realistic digital citizenry? Has the podcaster who decries the 7+ hour game soured on diets devoid of setpieces, cookies, and flashing lights? I suspect those who fill silence with iPhone games wont appreciate a game marked by them. Nevertheless, Moon demands that you learn to play differently. Each characters feelings and behavior are dictated by the hour, the day, the week, and Boys total time in the world. Characters dont wait expectantly for Boys appearance, nor are their schedules explicit. The only way to learn their behavior, their quirks, and their hidden wishes is to spend time in their presence, approach them with an item from Boys inventory, or speak with them. Those who play for short-term thrills are turned back at every instance. Burrns the bluntest example. Hes your average music store geek and a novice guitarist, and he doesnt take kindly to those who flip through his business record collection. The purpose of Boys interaction is to correctly name a series of tunes Burrn plays. He only spins 3 seconds of each, so the player who approaches him for his Love Points and without a MoonDisc collection will fail each test. If Boy repeatedly shows up to Burrn Hall and purchases his records, Burrns hostility gives way to neediness. Burrn only relates to people through shared taste in music, so others are bored by him. When someone does attempt to befriend him, Burrn quickly realizes that the would-be pal knows less than he does, so he scolds the person into flight. Boys continued interest in him and his music negates Burrns petulance. Meanwhile, youll naturally learn the music through play. When Boy correctly answers Burrns questions, he claims his place as Burrns music friend, and Burrn begins looking for new sorts of companions. An opportunistic player certainly wont unlock the games more involved relationships. The guard Freds secret wish is as loud as a checkered leotard. On certain days, he constantly yawns, his decorates his room with rock memorabilia, and he sports a superb moustache. A dullard would barge into Freds room at night, set up camp in the castles largest room, or mash the X button in the adjoining hallway. Moon doesnt gratify devotees to those sorts of RPGs. If you talk to Fred and his associates, you learn that hes very self-conscious. If you spend your days around Fred, youll find that he watches Ibirii, the other guard, to ensure he heads to the bar at night. Thus, if youve learned Ibiriis lifestyle and hide out of sight, you can witness Freds metamorphosis to rock god: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xD26_t914CI#t=5m20s&feature=PlayList&p=4D426F4EC09E6ABB Consider Noji. Noji is the prince of a land of toys whos on a fact-finding mission in Love-De-Gard. He constantly comments that he doesnt belong here. Unless youre illiterate or the very notion of anagrams causes you dizziness, you grasp the parody. Ill pause here. Come now, a quick scan of the games credits reveals that Taro Kudou designed its events, Kazuyuki Kurashima did all of the monster designs, and Kenichi Nishi and Akira Ueda designed the maps! (Yoshiro Kimura was doing battle systems for Romancing Saga 3 at the time.)_______?______________!_______I dontthat the last bit is copyright infringement, but Boy only witnesses Mario pop out of the car if he waits at dawn for Nojis Rube Goldberg alarm. Whereas Geno is a mighty warrior from the stars, Noji needs to learn what Love-De-Gards kids do for fun. Geno speaks with the cadence and vocabulary of a nobleman. Noji sounds like Ralph Wiggum. Again, players presume that Moon is like Itois games or the Mario RPGs themselves, so we laugh at the absurd version of everyones favorite doll demigod. Instead, Love-De-Lic made Noji 1/2 of their games longest quest. It unites all of Love-De-Gard: find a ladys wedding ring, show it to her estranged, mushroom-addicted husband, heal an injured tribesman, restore a mans restaurant, resurrect the tribes fish god. Each quest may demand the time and persistence to learn much about the characters life. After a few hours play, Boy unlocks a fishing hole that sometimes turns up Gamestations. Nojis anticlimactic thanks hints at unfinished business. While Noji awaits his fathers return, a different father hopes for his own reunion. Youll likely have learned that Ibirii clumsily flies toy airplanes on Days Of The Sun. If drunk, hell relate that his son promised on the day Ibirii and his wife divorced that hed join him for a toy plane crash course. Every Day Of The Sun, Ibirii exhibits his atrophied talent on the balcony in case his son wants to see him again. These are no idle tales of NPC woe. The player who pities Ibirii may come visit him on that day. Ibirii puts on a brave face and concentrates a bit more on his technique. If Boy cares enough to visit 7 days later, hell merit sincere thanks tinged with regret. However, if Boy demonstrates his sincere kindness with a 3rd consecutive pep talk, Noji notices the dads distress and helps him soar: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KPFvnkVTp_o#t=5m15s&feature=PlayList&p=4D426F4EC09E6ABB Hes the toy prince, you know. Unfortunately, Ibiriis a lonesome sort and Noji exudes cheerful obliviousness (Couple his face and set Ralph Wiggums voice on a loop: IM WAITING FOR DADDY!!), so Ibirii imagines that hes been abandoned in this country. Each time you speak with Ibirii, he can barely conceal the joy fatherhood would bring him. Those concerned with speedruns can abandon the pair to unhealthy fantasy. Those whove endured the trials with them can see it through. Noji wasnt abandoned, of course, as a later hologram of his father announces. Conversations reveal that Nojis worried about Ibiriis wellbeing, so you can deduce that he wants to sneak away when Ibiriis not on patrol. If youre present, youre rewarded. May I remind you that Noji should be a simple sight gag? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIZ0hCReHfE#t=3m57s&feature=PlayList&p=4D426F4EC09E6ABB I must note that the simplest test is also the most tenderhearted. Youll likely adore Granny more than many games protagonists. I can approximate the bond Boy builds with Granny as that of a parents and childs. At games beginning, she gives you life. By taking her grandsons favorite clothes, you develop your identity. Your earliest actions are limited in scope and power, so you must run home often for your own comfort and survival. As Boy grows stronger and independent, Grannys home is less vital than convenient. Nonetheless, you appreciate the cookies and mattress. The day Boy earns his own home, however, Grannys struck down by a curse. Hero killed an animal outside her home and the soul has haunted her for vengeance. She mumbles something about her readiness, and she concedes that its terminal. She and Boy exchange words frankly, as old folks do, and she entrusts Tao to Boy. Teach him! That charge is acceptable for the Tao in Captain Rainbow. The Tao in Giftpia is a rather obedient pooch. Moons Tao strikes me as the most horrid beast ever allied with a video game hero. It is stupid. It is disobedient. It is greedy. Start from video 24 if you want the full story. Bring Tao a bone and give it a command. If it does perform, you laud it and you can move to the next tier of commands. If it doesnt follow commands, you must scold it to preserve your progress and try again. No one warned me that Tao wants Granny to die a tortuous death or that it has some kind of cognitive disorder. Boy can only shovel bone after bone into Taos insatiable maw as Granny writhes pained in bed. Taos spiteful bark taunted my waning will. Grannys house is completely superfluous once Boy receives his own, it seems, and Grannys house is tucked conveniently away from mandatory areas. She produces no ghost, and Tao doesnt maul you in rage. If Granny hasnt endeared herself to you, you may abandon her at no cost. I taught Tao to sit and to lie down. I even taught it to call. I demonstrated altruistic action and perseverant care for the grandmother who adopted me as her own, and I earned this scene (Mind you, this girl has done the quest as early as possible, thereby spending as little time with Granny as possible. And yet Watch until 4:58, too.): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UR1nwOwYeY#t=2m01s&feature=PlayList&p=4D426F4EC09E6ABB Grannys regained strength lets her cherish the outdoors again. For me, each conversation in the open air was its own emotional payoff. All of these intricate or wearying quests glorify how games make us feel while castigating the ways they typically make us feel it. If Western games normalized thoughtless play, those from Japan can resist it.(For those of you who believe Im praising Love-De-Lic too highly, let me mention something from the Moon Official Book. They originally planned that Granny would be faking her blindness. She would have misidentified Boy to have a companion to abate her aloneness. This is roughly as bad an idea as Ebenezer Scrooge discovering a pair of discarded crutches in the back room before finding Tiny Tims run off with the fattened goose. They arent messiahs.)