~ Estimated Reading Time: 3 min ~

So much genius game designer prowess on display here, for something so far removed from the initial world of arcade game rules. Started off mechanically cut and dry, but consistently evolves itself to get the most out of its limited palette of tools. There's a handful of calling cards from Namco's old guard here - I love those miniature challenge gauntlets of quickly picking up a sequence of gems after activating a fairy. A lot of subtle pushes and pulls to the enemy design here: stuff like being able to shove back shields with the grab button, or the minutiae of only certain held enemies being able to squish under ceilings. Those little idiosyncrasies carry the best of their 80s arcade design through in bite-sized chunks. It develops this neat sorta double genre 'execution puzzle game' shtick: puzzles don't ever have to be so hard they interrupt the flow, when the points of engagement can rest on having to elegantly perform answers to them. It honestly helped me come to terms with some feelings I have towards easy games; looking for the words to describe something as boringly easy makes me feel like a huge cynic, but Klonoa makes it obvious why the answer isn't just "make it harder". Moreso, a lot of easier games don't end up reaching the logical conclusions to their ideas, due to never having their mechanics pushed far enough. Klonoa asks you to do things I never would've imagined possible at the start of the game, while never quite punishing you harshly for failing to keep up. I think that's neat! Some real instant comfort game material right here!!

Also kinda just makes my heart swell. The little branching paths that trickle out into countless directions lends fullness to its dense atmosphere, always enveloping you. Its stages often set to these thickly-layered tracks; ornate melodies bouncing off tribal percussive rhythms, only setting that foggy tone further. Finding all the little secrets hidden in its crevices could almost be overwhelming, if it wasn't so well-balanced with the kindness of its kinesthetic soul. I found it interesting how the director of the game spoke in an interview of how children had a much easier time demoing the game than adults. Maybe the constant overthinking to how much larger than myself it can feel is the heart of that. It's uncommon for a platformer to grant us the opportunity to actually trot physical places that exist within a greater world - only gaining more of a sense of tangibility each time we retread an established locale. And when our current path seamlessly weaves back into our past, only for us to be greeted with sorrow, it is a shining, game defining moment. What easily could've not meant much beyond trope of tragedy is elevated by Kumiko Watanabe's heart-wrenching vocal performance as Klonoa. The game's goofy fictional dialect never stops its voice acting from carrying a universal emotional language. In its twilight hour, the game both hits its absolute best mechanical cuts, and a crescendo of raw emotion that seems to take everyone off-guard. And just as we've gotten to know the place, the story closes. What a wonderful lil trip through a world so short, but always all-there ❤️