you’d realize that, yeah, it’s as good as the hype makes it out to be. And more.

I wouldn’t have to speak a word. Studio Ghibli won an OSCAR, for flip’s sake. I’m

just some schmoe who thinks it’s pretty. But since, if I don’t write a script and

put my empty words over these breathtaking scenes and amazing Joe Hisaishi soundtrack

- performed by the Tokyo Philharmonic, no less - Mark’s going to take away my coffee

privileges. So, for the sake of caffeine, I present to you Ni no Kuni, possibly the

most gorgeous game of 2013. And it’s only January. Still, I like its odds.

I can’t tell if this game is more indicative of Ghibli’s style or of Level-5’s, as

both have their fingerprints all over this thing. It’s the tale of a boy wrestling

with the fact that A) He’s now an orphan and B) It’s kinda his fault. So, in grand

tradition, he’s guided by a sprite with an extreme septum piercing to a mystical land

full of puns. Oh, and magic, and maybe a parallel-dimension version of his mum who’s in need of saving.

But mostly puns. He is, of course, the pure-hearted one who will bring peace back to a world ravaged

by a dark djinn who makes a habit of sapping attributes from all who oppose him; as the

protagonist/savior, it’s your job to go find people bursting with enthusiasm or courage

or whatnot, siphon some off, and distribute it to those in need for fun and profit and

snacks. And so you travel onward, hitting all the standard JRPG notes, obtaining a boat,

and allies, and recruiting monsters to your side if they’re of a masochistic bent and

appreciate a good beating and subsequent serenade.

The nuts and bolts of the game, however, feel much like Level-5’s much-celebrated Dragon

Quest VIII, with the static-party concept and Akira Toriyama stylization jettisoned

in favor of a more Pokémon-ish system of collectible monsters. Each of your three party

members can either engage in battle directly, or summon a familiar from the three they’re

carrying around. The action takes place in real-time, with cooldown timers to manage

for your shinier attacks, the ability to maneuver freely about the battlefield (potentially

evading attacks in the process), and the occasional glowing orb knocked loose from a foe to restore

HP or MP or unlock a devastating special attack unique to each monster. It’s an exciting

system, though your allies’ AI can be a bit dense sometimes. This is alleviated by

the eventual access to “All-out” attack and defensive commands accessed by the triangle

and square buttons, but up until that point - and in fact, even well afterward - battles

feel much more manageable if you’re only controlling one character. This may just be

a testament to the effectiveness of the “stick-and-move” tactic, though.

Each of your battle monsters can be powered up via an elaborate system of snacks, which

increase attributes, make them friendlier, and can be used to evolve them into even punnier

forms, while a separate menu allows you to outfit them in the latest and greatest gear.

In common with its cousins in the Dragon Quest series, you’ve got a cauldron capable of

synthesizing your own equipment and medicine, though without the waiting time of those other

games. Your recipes, along with bestiary information, spell documentation, item locations, fables

and parables, and even a primer on deciphering the ancient Nazcaän script (one of many nods

to the studio’s fans out there), are all found in the spellbook you acquire at the

start of the game and acts as sort of a progressively-unlocked strategy guide as the game goes on. It’s

a useful book to have around, and not just because you can use it to throw massive fireballs

at foes. That’s it. I’m done talking. GO OBTAIN THIS GAME. Then lock yourself in

the house and get your RPG on, because it’s cold outside and you’ve got hot cocoa and

escapism to attend to. DO IT.