I I have a bad cold, but I felt better after watching Snufkin: Melody of Moominvalley. This is the game’s equivalent of honey, lemon, and a hot water bottle, full of deliciousness and warmth. But it’s also strange and melancholic, an iconic mark of Moomin and part of the reason for the enduring popularity of Jansson’s work. It’s weird, sad, creepy, wholesome, and fun.
The plot follows Snufkin, a philosophical wanderer, preparing to return to Moominvalley in the spring and meet his best friend Moomintroll after the Moomins wake up from hibernation. However, he finds his way blocked by a park patrolled by police. The administrators of Hemulen Park have decided to extend their powers to build gardens throughout Moominvalley, managed according to strict signposted rules. Enraged by this unjust natural enclosure, Snufkin begins tearing up his sign. And in a tempting logic, once all the signs are gone, the cops just walk away because there are no more rules to enforce. This allows Snufkin to freely rewild the area, tearing up paving slabs and dismantling fences.
This conflict with park management forms the basis of the game, and there are several parks where Snufkin must sneak around the sights of roaming police officers while destroying signs. Snufkin uses his trusty harmonica to charm animals and solve puzzles, and then adds flutes and drums to his arsenal, but outside of this novel use of musical instruments to interact with the world, there are no innovations. There are very few. You’re given a shopping list of quests to complete, many of which involve finding specific objects or characters, and there’s also the familiar stealth section that’s been used in countless games before.
Full of kindness and warmth… Snufkin: Melody of Moominvalley. Photo: Hyper Games/Low Fury
But beyond that, this works as a tour through the characters and locations of the Moomin world. Although the story is original and only loosely based on the events of the 1954 book Moomin Summer Madness, the game still remains very faithful to Tove Jansson’s original text and uses her beautiful artwork convincingly. It presents itself as a facsimile of the events of the novel as a whole.
Early on, we’re introduced to the terrifying Groke, who can freeze fire when he sits on it, and soon certain small, unnamed creatures are tagged along with Snufkin. Toffle is also here, but he is too scared to come down from the tree. There’s also Two Ticky, Mrs. Fillyjonk, Lady Snork, and the Hatter, to name a few. Fans of Jansson’s work will rejoice at every cameo appearance, but even if these names mean nothing to you, Melody of Moominvalley does a good job of showing why these characters are so beloved. This is a children’s fairy tale world populated by deeply flawed adults, mixed with some very strange and biting satire. Mrs. Fillyonk is the original helicopter parent. Snufkin was an eco-warrior long before the word was coined.
That was also strangely sad. Most of the time, the characters seem too wrapped up in their own neuroses and obsessions to ever truly be happy, but I’m sure they can overcome their traumas and differences and somehow manage to get along. That fact is what makes this world so uplifting. In that sense, the choice of Sigur Ros for the uplifting yet melancholic soundtrack is an inspiration.
The melodies of Moominvalley are simple and non-challenging, but they are disappointingly short, so you can see almost everything in a day’s play. Still, it’s all so carefully put together that it’s hard to begrudge these shortcomings. It’s all about licensing. Tove’s short stay in his faithfully recreated version of Jansson’s strange and memorable world is worth the price of admission.
Source: www.theguardian.com
