VN-ese Waltz: July - The House in Fata Morgana
By Mento 1 Comments
Decided to spend the second half of 2021 checking out some renowned visual novels. Sometimes my ideas aren't any more elaborate than that. I've tried to discuss the following games in as spoiler-free a manner as possible, with a very spoilerish section at the end for my final thoughts on where the story goes.
I'm just glad I picked a cheerful game for this inaugural entry. The House in Fata Morgana (first released on PC in 2012 by Novectacle, later localized for PC in 2016 and followed by some console ports) is one of those tragic Gothic romance type of affairs where everything that can go wrong, does. Set in a mansion cut off from space and time, the unnamed protagonist is initially guided to various rooms by a friendly if dispassionate maid to witness events that transpired in the building throughout history. The story continues to evolve and shift beyond this structure, however, as you dig further into truth behind the place. It is... an emotionally draining game, but overall worth it if its particular Gothic style isn't something you're turned off by immediately. I will say it gets pretty darn violent, if a bunch of androgynous folks agonizing over unrequited love isn't enough of a pull.
Like a few of the visual novels I've encountered - I'm by no means an expert, though I've dabbled in recent years - The House in Fata Morgana is a largely passive playthrough but for a few decision prompts. The choices can either be the type of dialogue prompt where you have to exhaust all of them to move on, or those where one or more options will lead to an early "dead end" (usually literally so) or alternative ending. There is a true ending, but you have to persevere somewhat to get there. Also, like many visual novels, the experience is improved immeasurably by its presentation: the art and music have a melancholy beauty to them that perfectly suit the prose passing across the screen. There's also an emphasis on sound design where the sound effects serve to draw you into the stories on a more visceral level. The game recommends headphones to enjoy the experience as it was intended, and it's advice well heeded.
The structure of The House in Fata Morgana has a loosely connected but linear approach where you witness a group of hapless residents of the titular manse across time in the form of separate chapters. Each has the same viewpoint character: The Maid, the one you meet as soon as the game begins and is your ever-present companion throughout. Existing in each time period, mostly in a minor role, she talks about the events and people in a largely passive voice. The gaps in-between will often provide an opportunity to explore the mansion in its "inert" state, absent its mortal occupants. The only other constant is a white-haired girl, only ever referred to as such for most of the game, possessed of impossible beauty and innocence who nonetheless becomes a catalyst of each chapter's protagonist's undoing. Despite the huge gaps of time between each chapter - usually at least a century - the maid and the white-haired girl remain constants throughout.
I do think it is an exceptionally told story, in part because of the ways it subverts the format it establishes early on and, in so doing, your expectations. The vignettes are all, invariably, about doomed love stories; about bloodshed and insanity and miscommunicated feelings, and the deeper supernatural mystery that ties them all together and becomes the focus of the game's latter chapters. It continues to escalate towards the end, with twist after twist about the true nature of what you've seen and heard so far. Of course, to say more would be to say too much, but it's a game that understands what this specific format of storytelling can do, and - more's the point - what it alone can do.
The presentation is truly top-notch. Along with the ethereal and slightly otherworldly aesthetic of artist Moyataro's work, which captures the visceral terror of the game's grislier scenes just as adroitly as the gentle elegance of its heroines and the game's many quieter and sadder moments, the music and sound design does so much to enhance the atmosphere of each scene and lends additional personality to its characters. The soundtrack has songs in Portuguese, Latin, French, and a manner of non-verbal lyrical vocalizations that can occasionally sound downright Bjorkian (especially this track, which is the theme for the character of Pauline) and many are used as leitmotifs for both the era settings and for specific characters within them. The sound design is mostly radio play style foley work; once so effective long ago in separating Chunsoft's early "sound novels" from the chaff and still put to equally potent use in this more contemporary game to immerse the player/reader.
What follows are two spoiler-blocked sections:
- The first attempts to describe some of the ways, mechanically, the game subverts its standard UI and features. While this section won't reveal any story twists in major detail, it could be a surprise players might want to discover on their own.
- The second fully digs into the story, especially the ending, and the way it tackles difficult subject matter in a manner sympathetic to the victims. Recommended only for those who have already completed the game themselves or don't intend to.
1:
2:
In summary: