I wanted to like To the Moon. It is earnest and sweet but also tedious and maudlin. It tells its convoluted story with the heaviest of hands, signalling exactly how to feel with every note of its score, begging for laughter with endless banter.

Its central premise – wish fulfilment via cutting-edge technology – echoes the function of many videogames, but here the game doesn’t dwell. When the tearjerking finale comes, you are meant to ignore how treacherous this technology is, how it betrays the truth of the central female character, and just bask in all the feels of a wish fulfilled.

It probably helped that I had just seen Memento prior to playing To the Moon. The idea of using reverse-time travel to explore a person's memories is an interesting concept, though perhaps not entirely accurate to the game. What we have instead of time travel is memory travel, done through some sci-fi tech with logic so inane I could waste time poking holes in it.

But To the Moon isn't about the specifics, at least not until an ill-fated third act springs up, but more on that later. No, for most of its run, To the Moon treats its premise as something commonplace, using it to spring forward a melodramatic tale of two scientists working to change a dying man's memories so that he can fulfill his wish of going to the moon.

During this initial exploration, To the Moon succeeds largely on the strength of its script. As the scientists Eva and Neil progress deeper and deeper into the psyche of the dying Johnny Wyles, pieces of a heartbreaking story involving love and loss are slowly unveiled to the players. Fans of the movie Blue Valentine may delight in seeing a similar realistic take on a contemporary romantic relationship, this one focusing on Wyles and his late wife River. Many questions and mysteries arise during this journey that players will have to uncover the truth to, including why River was obsessed with making paper bunny rabbits, why she carries a platypus plushie around, and of course why Johnny himself wants to fulfill the eponymous title.

I mentioned a flawed third act earlier, and it is definitely a disappointing addition that almost killed the game's narrative for me. One of the problems with To the Moon, insofar as it relates to gaming, is that it does not contain much actual gameplay. Sure you control the character's movements, but the only real gameplay in it is a Concentration-inspired minigame that you have to do to progress to the next memory stage. Some will see this as disappointing, but as a fan of so-called "walking simulators" like Gone Home, I personally had no problem with it.

Unfortunately, in the third act someone at Freebird Games evidently thought they needed to throw something in there to make To the Moon more like a conventional video game, thus leading to one of the worst third acts I have ever experienced. Not only does the gameplay consist of mediocre ripoffs of Metroidvania shooters, but it also kills the pacing and story. One of the characters (Eva) betrays everything they've been portrayed as up to that point, and the worst part is none of it makes sense when you think about it. If you recall earlier in my review, I pointed out how if you were to logically think about the technological backstory of the game, it would fall apart, thus making it a smart decision that the writer avoid delving into it. In the 3rd act, it is brought to the forefront of the game, forcing me to analyze it and find just how illogical the whole drama is.

Another issue I had is why is Autism treated as something taboo to the point that they have to hide it? If the game takes place in the far future, surely this is a condition that can be openly talked about? Hell, even when the game came out in 2011 Autism was openly discussed. And I say the far future due to the characters using groundbreaking technology and treating Animorphs as a thing of a long lost childhood.

I understand the low budget the team was working with, but one inherent problem with To the Moon is that, by using 16-bit graphics, character emotions are not convincingly conveyed. Voice acting could very well have made up for this, but even that is missing. That being said, I would be lying if I said the artists didn’t make the most of things- no detail is spared, whether it’s interiors or even seemingly-generic exteriors like the woods. And I was genuinely surprised by how many facial expressions they were able to convey with the sprite models.

Much has been made about the music score, and it is definitely solid, though I personally think a few more tracks could’ve been fitted in.


Sigmund Minisode 1- I played the two minisodes long after I had completed the main game, so I fully expected to be partially lost in doing them. And yet, color me surprised when I found the story and characters coming back to me without hard exposition by the writers. It’s a testament to the strength of the original’s narrative, and I was appreciative that they worked with subtle nods and references over blatant explanations.

The bulk of the gameplay here involves an old-school, Pac-Man-esque adventure game created by Neil, and it’s honestly well-done. It reminded me a lot of the Fire & Sword minigame in Observer, and is proof that Freebird could venture into other computer game genres if they choose.

The story, as a whole, serves as a nice epilogue to To the Moon, addressing some of the more ethical questions with the mnemonic premise, as well as the internal feelings/thoughts of the characters themselves about everything, that weren’t addressed in the main game.

That being said, here the art design somewhat faltered- you get to explore the interior of the Sigmund company building, and yet there isn’t much personalization between all the different offices and lobby- it’s pretty standard corporate greyscale. Alongside this, the music is completely rehashed, albeit in a different key.

Lasts about 1 hour.


Sigmund Minisode 2 is not tied to the previous two and serves more as a lead-up to A Bird Story. It sets-up some interesting, mysterious things that will undoubtedly be resolved/answered in the sequel, though the build-up/cliffhanger might be seen as annoying to anyone who wanted another standalone follow-up to To the Moon ala the first Minisode.

Because it’s only 30-45 minutes long, I can’t talk too much about the story without spoiling things, but it involves everyone trying to leave work to celebrate Christmas. There are more character moments here, and though Neil comes off as annoying more often than not, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find the overall product enjoyable.

NOTE- I experienced massive lag whenever dialogue bubbles popped up during the two minisodes. Watching them on YouTube reveals this to be a personal problem, though I assure you my computer is more than capable of running To the Moon, making me wonder what the issue is.

So, on its own To the Moon only gives 4 hours worth of playtime. However, when you combine it with the two Minisodes, it took me 5 hours to beat, which makes it just worth purchasing per my $1 : 30 minutes ratio. While I do have significant problems with the third act of the main game, as well as the lack of voice acting, the overall product tells a solid enough story to make it worth playing.

Undertale is one of the most popular games of the last decade. Some used to herald it as one of the greatest games ever made, back when it came out. I vividly remember a girl I was really into back then cosplaying Sans - but I didn't know who that was. For my whole life, it feels like the whole world has been talking about Undertale and stuff that has been inspired by it. So, I took the plunge myself. I wanted to know why Undertale was so... important.

And on one hand, I think it's easy to see why. It's an indie darling that is subversive, humorous in tone, satirical of RPG tropes and quick to push the boundaries of the fourth wall. Those things don't really sound like too big of a deal now, I don't think. But Undertale popularised a lot of these ideas in the mainstream, and I think that caught a lot of people off-guard. Undertale is creative with its postmodern relationship with the audience, as well as in its usage of contemporary humour. While not the first game to do so - a lot of the things I've just mentioned were done by Earthbound and Metal Gear Solid 2 a decade or so before the release of Undertale - its indie darling status as well as its genuine creativity brought it to the forefront. Undertale was many people's first experience with a postmodern meta-narrative integrated into a video game. It changed the tone around video games, and presented the idea of "video games as art" in a new way to a new audience.

So, I see the appeal there. Undertale isn't lacking in things to like. Its creative manipulation of traditional battle mechanics is very interesting, and so is its willingness to reach out the screen and make things specifically about the player.

In 2021, I still find that creativity compelling, and I think a lot of the work put into Undertale pays off. However, I think a lot of things now don't really work in its favour. I think the idea of sparing enemies, or having the death of an enemy taken seriously, is very, very cool on paper. But in practice, Undertale's usage of this system results in finding every way possible to not use the core combat mechanics. Thematically, this makes sense, but gameplay wise, I think it's a waste. The battle system is good - why can't I use it without punishment? You get locked out of the true ending if you kill even one thing. So why fight, ever? I think it's a fatal flaw of the system. Even in Genocide, the opposite occurs - why spare anything, ever? I don't think it works out. I wasn't satisfied sparing enemies, and killing them would've locked into the bad endings. So I'm stuck in an unsatisfying limbo if I want to get a nice ending. I don't think that's good game design, even if it thematically proves something. The bullet hell stuff is fun, though, and it shines through in the fight against Asgore especially. The creativity of the game really works out when it comes to making unique attack patterns to dodge - especially in bosses.

Another thing I thought was quite underwhelming was the writing. A lot of the humour in this game is VERY hit or miss. Sometimes, it makes me want to roll my eyes. Too much quirky randomness humour that feels very bland and dated. Sometimes, I chuckled quite a bit. I thought Sans was consistently pretty funny. Alongside this, though, I don't think the main plot of the game is very interesting, and I think a lot of the meta elements go to waste when it comes to Chara - or Will, in my case. At first, Frisk, the main character, is introduced with your name. However, it turns out that the character bearing your name was actually the first human to fall down. This holds potential meaning, and having the final boss say that they don't want you to leave them behind, to stop playing with them, is quite emotionally powerful, I think. However, I think it falls apart when you realise the first human to fall down is like, an entire character on their own. The only thing they really have in common with you is their name, and it doesn't loop back to the player - at least in the routes I played. It felt like an underdeveloped excuse to have the characters refer to me, the real person, instead of a grand plot development - even though the former would've been much more fitting, I feel. But again, apparently Genocide does something different, so I don't want to be too mean to this character.

This writing issue does extend to the gameplay, too. I thought the puzzles had potential to be fun - but every character in the game makes it their mission to tell you the solution to each and every puzzle in the game in some sort of ironic fashion. It was funny for a bit, but eventually it just got grating. Let me play your game, please! On top of it all, I think the message of the game ends up being kind of shallow in the end. Being friends with everyone solves everything. Always be determined to be as kind to people as you can be. Killing people is always bad and you shouldn't do it. I don't know, I guess that's fine. I didn't think it was all that interesting by the end, though - especially when the backstory of characters like Alphys and Asgore open up some pretty morally complex questions about accountability for horrible actions taken by them.

Despite everything I've said, I had fun. I chuckled a bit. The boss fights were fun. I stream a lot of the games I play to my friends, and it was entertaining to play it with them. The music was awesome, a lot of the visual setpieces were very memorable, and if nothing else, Sans is still funny. It was a pleasant experience, even if it definitely showed me how much I suck at bullet hells.

So, where does that leave us? Do I understand why Undertale is so revered? I think I do. It's a generally pleasant and upbeat experience that has a darker underbelly to be explored. It was a pioneer of modern metanarratives and satire in gaming. A cast of likable characters and iconic music only bolstered this.

But at least, speaking as an adult in 2021, back to myself starting in high school in 2015, I think time has changed. I think Undertale is something that I don't think I'll ever be able to connect to in the same way that its superfans did and still do.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that you had to be there - and I wasn't.