Fragile Dreams: Farewell Ruins of the Moon

How do you review a game that doesn't much care for you?

It's a fair question. Fragile Dreams has the most disciplined design aesthetic I've ever encountered in a game. It's a game that's unafraid to use absolutely atrocious elements if they help to create the game world, creating one of the few genuine pieces of art in the gaming landscape. And it's a game that is guaranteed to be polarizing – a quick look at the game's Metacritic page only confirms this.

The game wouldn't survive without its stunning story and art direction. You play as Seto, a 15-year-old boy who is one of the last people left alive after some sort of apocalyptic event in Japan (though the exact details aren't clear, they come into focus a little bit as the story progresses, which was a smart idea by the developer). After his elderly caretaker dies – which is kind of a creepy relationship, once you start to think about it – Seto sets out into the world to try to find more survivors, and possibly someone to care for him. He does find someone, a silver-haired girl who is roughly his age. Then she disappears, and Seto sets out to find her.

It's a simple concept, but one that's never, ever been seen in videogaming before. In fact, it doesn't sound like a videogame premise at all. Once you take control of Seto, you basically explore the burned out, worn down, dilapidated structures of Tokyo. The developers apparently went to buildings abandoned after World War II for inspiration, and it shows. From an abandoned subway station to a run down mall, to an incredibly creepy theme park, Fragile Dreams' environments are only rivaled perhaps by the ruins of Metroid Prime in their downtrodden awesomeness – in fact, I'd say they're even better than Prime's environments because they feel like they were actually lived in at one time. It's depressing and effective, and that goes for the game as a whole as well. This isn't a game that makes you feel good about yourself.

That's not to say the game isn't downright beautiful, too. There are some incredible sights, including the game's most famous shot of the moon over an eerie red sunset. It's times like these that help to set the game apart from the survival horror genre, which it could have easily fallen into (the game plays pretty much exactly like Silent Hill: Shattered Memories for a lot of the time). In the "beautiful" category too are the game's "memory item" short stories, which are triggered when you find an item that was left behind by someone after the apocalypse. These stories were submitted by writers in Japan, and they're melancholic and subtle and amazing. In fact, if they were to publish an anthology of just these short stories, I would almost certainly buy it; they're that good.

The music, too, is one of the best soundtracks I've heard in a game. It's sparse and effective, and highlights the loneliness in the game. And if the opening song or the battle music don't send shivers up your spine, you might not be human.

Now, for the parts that have been almost universally trashed: the actual "game" bits. Had Fragile Dreams shipped with a disclaimer for reviewers, it should have read that "Fragile Dreams' game parts are terrible on purpose, as they serve the overall game design." For instance, the combat. It's atrocious. You hit the A button to swing a stick at the souls of people and animals that were left behind after the apocalypse (not to make that sound like a LaHaye novel or anything…), and that's it. There's no dodging, no blocking, no parrying, and no Z-targeting.

But think about this: when you were a 15-year-old, unless you were some sort of crazy athlete, would you have been proficient at combat while surviving on your own in a burnt out, abandoned city? I know I wouldn't be, and because of the characterization of Seto, I know he isn't either. Destructoid posted a review of this game and said that Seto "painfully fights like the 15-year-old he is." Why is that a criticism? It was a clear design decision, and it might not make the game fun, but it does make the combat part of a whole. They could have included realistic, Wii MotionPlus sword fighting or something, but that just wouldn't make sense in the game world.

Same goes for the next complaint I've seen people ranting about: limited inventory space. Once again, if I was in this situation, I wouldn't be carrying around a bunch of useless shit with me: it would be boiled down to its barest essence. Also, your weapons break a lot. Considering that all there is left to fight with are sticks and broom handles, I would think that those things would break a lot.

No, none of those things bothered me. I wrote an article basically explaining my stance on things like this, and I would absolutely choose a game that makes imperfectly perfect use of its somewhat less-than-fun gameplay bits if (and only if) they're at the service of the game as a whole, and Fragile Dreams definitely fits that mold; what I have a problem with are games that include elements that don't make sense, even if they're fun and have just as well developed of a world. I'd still enjoy those games and probably give them top marks, but they don't get to make it into that upper echelon. Fragile Dreams does.

If I did have any complaints, they'd be minor. I feel like the Tutorial system is a little overbearing – that's something that actually does take me out of the game world. And while there are no loading screens, the screen does fade to black and back in between every "section" of the game; I would have liked to see a more immersive, Half-Life-style system put in place. But those are quibbles, and the fact still stands: this is a brilliant piece of art. It's maybe not the best "game" ever; actually, far from it. But it's one that ultimately demands respect and admiration, even if you don't enjoy it. As a critical consumer of culture, though, this is absolutely a game you have to try for yourself. It's poignant, troubling, depressing, beautiful, and incredible, all at the same time. It doesn't play it safe, and that's something that I've come to respect more and more in my gaming life.