“In the process of becoming an adult, there comes a moment for each of us when we’re rejected by the ‘world.’ The person we were so in love with dumps us. The school we wanted to go to so badly doesn’t let us in. The career we were trying for doesn’t pan out. Everyone has a moment like that. And that’s okay. There’s no such thing as something which mustn’t be lost. Everyone has the freedom to love someone or something. We are free. We mustn’t forget that.” - Kunihiko Ikuhara

I really, really had to play this game as soon as I finished moon. I was enamored by the sincere love that the game espoused without ever becoming sappy, and that clearly carries over into Chulip’s kissing quest. Much has been written about Chulip as a story about the pains of emotional vulnerability that is necessary to learn to truly love someone, and I HIGHLY recommend ludzu’s review of the game for more detail on that. But besides love, I think another keyword shared between the two games is “perspective”: moon was about the perspective of a player who breathes life into stock RPG characters, while Chulip is about the oddities of adulthood from a child’s perspective.

I really dislike the “wow Japanese games sure are CRAZY!” Orientalist mindset but this game truly is offbeat. The childish innocence of the protagonist is frequently pitted against some surprisingly adult subjects such as ennui, alcoholism, and domestic violence among others, but the game never loses its sense of levity in the face of them. I can’t fault anybody for finding some scenes tactless, but I think it’s integral to the commitment to a child’s perspective being simplistic and lacking nuance. A phrase in the main story that really stuck out to me is “adults have problems too”, and a huge part of the game as a coming-of-age story is learning of these dark aspects of adult life.

Chulip tears down any pretense of logic in adult society. Why does the bathhouse owner find it so important to follow a seemingly arbitrary ritual to take a bath “the correct way”? Why does the wife yearn to be with her husband even after he hit her? These questions aren’t answered as they’re beyond the comprehension of a child, but the protagonist does know he wants to make everybody happy. It’s nostalgic of childhood in two contradictory ways: at once, it’s about growing from egocentric adolescence to a mature person who can make personal sacrifices for others’ gain, but it’s also about how much simpler it was to love someone as a child without the boundaries of logic, illustrated best by the sickeningly sweet crush the protagonist has on his love interest, the only other child with dialogue in the game.

I’ve become fascinated with Yoshiro Kimura as a “gaming auteur”, especially after learning he directed one of my childhood favorites Little King’s Story, itself a rather childlike understanding of what it is to be a ruler not unlike Chulip. The language of his games perfectly captures that magic feeling of childhood, makes adults contemplate what they may have lost when they grew up, but doesn’t patronize while maintaining such a sweet tone. Consider me entranced by his ability to tap into my inner child’s heart in such a mature and thoughtful way.