I have a dreadful cold, but Snufkin: Melody of Moominvalley has made me feel better. It’s the gaming equivalent of honey and lemon and a hot-water bottle, full of goodness and warmth. But it’s also strange and melancholic, that signature mark of the Moomins, and part of the reason for the enduring popularity of Tove Jansson’s creations. It’s weird, sad, eerie, wholesome and delightful.
The plot sees the philosophical wanderer Snufkin making his way back to Moominvalley in the spring, ready to meet his best friend, Moomintroll, after the Moomins have woken from their winter hibernation. But he finds his way is blocked by a park patrolled by policemen. The Hemulen park keeper has decided to extend his remit, building gardens across Moominvalley that are governed by strict rules nailed to signposts. Incensed at this unwarranted enclosure of nature, Snufkin begins tearing up the signs; and in a charming piece of logic, the policemen simply wander off once all the signposts are gone, since they no longer have any rules to enforce. This leaves Snufkin free to rewild the area, ripping up paving slabs and dismantling fences.
This conflict with the park keeper forms the backbone of the game, and there are several such parks where Snufkin must stealthily avoid the gaze of the wandering policemen while tearing down signs. Snufkin uses his trusty harmonica to charm animals and solve puzzles, and later he adds a flute and drum to his armoury, but beyond this novel use of a musical instrument to interact with the world, there’s little here in the way of innovation. We’re given a shopping list of quests to complete, many of which involve finding certain objects or characters, and there are familiar stealth sections, a trope used in countless games before.
But beyond that, this acts as a tour of the characters and locations of the Moomin world. The story is original, only very loosely based on events from the 1954 book Moominsummer Madness, but the game is nevertheless extremely faithful to Tove Jansson’s original texts, not only in presenting a convincing facsimile of her beautiful artwork, but also by dropping in nods to events from across the novels.
Early on we’re introduced to the terrifying Groke, who can freeze fire by sitting on it, and a certain small creature with no name soon tags along with Snufkin. Toffle is here as well, too scared to come down from a tree, and then there’s Too-Ticky, Mrs Fillyjonk, Snorkmaiden and the Hattifatteners, to name a few. Devotees of Jansson’s works will be delighted with every cameo, but if these names mean nothing to you, Melody of Moominvalley does a good job of showing why these characters are so beloved. This is a children’s storybook world populated by deeply flawed adults, a mix of the intensely odd and the bitingly satirical. Mrs Fillyjonk is the original helicopter parent. Snufkin was an ecowarrior long before the term was coined.
It’s also strangely sad. There’s a sense that, for the most part, the characters are too wrapped up in their own neuroses and obsessions to ever truly be happy, but the fact that they’re able to overcome their trauma and their differences and somehow get along is what makes this world so uplifting. In that sense, the choice of Sigur Rós for the soaring yet melancholic soundtrack is inspired.
Melody of Moominvalley is simple and unchallenging, and also disappointingly short – you can see almost everything within a day’s play. And yet it’s all put together with such care that it’s difficult to begrudge these shortcomings. The licence is everything: spending a short time in a faithfully evoked version of Tove Jansson’s strange and memorable world is worth the entrance fee.
• Snufkin: Melody of Moominvalley is out on 7 March; £17.99
