At first glance, Moncage’s central premise doesn’t seem like a very original one. This puzzle game revolves on perspective; by altering your viewpoint or posture, you may cause the world in front of you to change drastically. It all comes down to rephrasing—your views just as much as your opinions—until you realize that, with a little creativity and some trial and error, you can take those gloomy situations and rocky dead ends and transform them into something different. Something more optimistic.
Really, it’s a fantastic thing. Very clever indeed. Having saying that, there might sometimes seem to be too much going on. Occasionally, despite your best efforts, the sights in front of you may change so abruptly (you’ll be alerted to this by a soft auditory cue and a golden light from the just updated window) that it will be difficult for you to keep up with everything. I suppose it’s a spot-on metaphor for actual life.
At other times, however, it seems too gloomy. depressing. You search for methods to make things better, maybe even forcing some sunlight into your surroundings. This is a reasonable comparison, particularly in situations when you are either too near to something to see the finer details or too far away to view the wider picture. Or are you seeing things that aren’t really there because you are drinking and have a warped perspective on everything?
The execution is undoubtedly original, even if the premise may not be. Moncage, which is said to be a portmanteau of the words “montage” and “cage,” two names that may be used to describe the game’s vehicle as well, is a fascinating combination of engrossing puzzles and slumbering narrative. You never leave the dimly lit area where pictures hang at odd intervals during the whole trip. But because of the amazing cube that occupies the middle of the space, you’ll be transported to a variety of interesting locations, like military bases, workplaces, construction sites, lighthouses, nurseries, and classrooms for young children.
There are only five faces of the cube that you can see, and each one presents a unique narrative that provides a profound and oddly intimate window into someone’s life. As the novel progresses, you realize that there aren’t really any links beyond the nameless, wordless protagonist your story follows. At first, I found myself struggling to find them. The truly interesting part comes when you realize that although though each side of the cage seems to have a separate perspective, the sides and corners that come into contact with one another might bleed into or impact one another.
You must seek for recurring themes, forms, or textures in parallel dioramas to make them connect together in order to advance through Moncage’s light-touch narrative. One time, for example, you could discover that the industrial pipe lines up oh-so-perfectly under a boiling pot, if only when you zoom into it, or that, when you spin the cube exactly so, the striped cloth of an awning in the upper scene matches that of the hammock in the square above. It may seem a bit difficult, and with good reason—some of the solutions are excruciatingly opaque. In instance, the super-handy highlight tool can sometimes be really unhelpful, making it impossible to line up intricate patterns or even recognize color changes. However, if you get it, which you will, it’s really brilliant and enjoyable as well.
The riddles get a bit trickier later on. To advance, one must systematically link together many mini-puzzles, which required dexterity that I seldom possess. In another, you have to change not only the cage but also the passage of time by turning a wall calendar’s seasons. The problem with this type of game, at least for me, is that the subtle puzzles frequently turn into not-so-gentle frustration. I’ll also admit that there were occasions when the game’s detached telegraphing left me completely lost, particularly when it introduced new puzzle mechanics without giving me any warning.
That’s why the hint system in Moncage is highly appreciated. In addition to providing three layers of ever more detailed hints, it is cautious and non-intrusive, giving you some time to figure things out on your own before saving you. As a last resort, you may view an entire video lesson that will clearly demonstrate what to do.
Actually, everything about Moncage is incredibly thoughtful and unobtrusive. While you might assume that staring at a small cube would be boring and somewhat restrictive, especially for a game that primarily focuses on graphics, the windows you can peek into are vibrant and detailed, and the sound effects—while subdued—variate depending on which portal you are focusing on.
The main faux pas of Moncage, meanwhile, is that its poignant tale is ultimately conveyed via utterly useless memorabilia. I missed a good half dozen on my first playing, so even though I became better at identifying them near the end and stretched out the storyline’s denouement, I still didn’t completely comprehend what occurred to our protagonist in their early years. Collectible hunting becomes much more appealing since you can finish the game in three or four hours, but it’s still a huge mistake because there’s no other way to explain why the cube is transporting us to these apparently unrelated places. Actually, it’s a good thing that Moncage’s puzzles are enjoyable enough even if you can’t understand the plot in its whole.
Still, I have to admit that I had a great time hanging out with Moncage. Our time together was short, indeed, but very fulfilling, as each turn of the cube presented us with a fresh perspective and a fresh set of enjoyable difficulties. Look no further; Moncage is the perfect brainteaser if you’ve been searching for a mild challenge that you can finish in a few quick sessions, or perhaps in one sitting if you liked it as much as I did.