The underrated simplicity of Harvest Moon 1996

Stardew Valley is a Harvest Moon fangame but it superseded Harvest Moon in every aspect, plus it's finally gay so it wins by default. But I don't like how maximalist it is. Now the Bokumono series itself had already become a spreadsheet game when Stardew came out, so I don't exactly blame it for that. But looking now at the original SNES Bokumono, I am impressed by how much much it manages to evoke the feeling of idyllic farm life with minimal elements; a perfect hit of good pixel art, moody seasonal themes, tight little gameplay mechanics, and just enough little things to discover to keep you hooked until marriage or so. It achieves a whole lot with very little, because the very little is well-placed; as a result I feel like I can wrap my head around the game, in a way I can't with Stardew and most farming games, including later Bokumono. (There's still value in those, of course, I have a soft spot for Bokumono GBC 3 for many reasons; but I think none ever reproduced the powerful simplicity of Bokumono 1996.)

I think this aspect is underrated, and even though the indie gaming scene is now flooded with various takes on the farm simulation genre, it would be a perfect project for a small team or a solo dev: study the original Harvest Moon in terms of game design and art direction and writing, then try to make a minimalist farming game (perhaps on something like GB Studio or Pico-8) that is engaging and evocative with as few elements as possible.

Harvest Moon was so daring, too; it's hard to explain to gamers today how novel the idea was, people would mock it—a game you don't fight anything? You do the same chores every day?! The director, Wada Yasuhiro, was in fact from the countryside, and wanted to convey the feeling of farm life while working with tech in the big city. He was on a mission, that is, and took a big bet with releasing this; there was a lot of rejection, jokes, the game was a slow burn; but in the end it established a new niche. The entire genre of cozy games is indebted to Bokujō Monogatari. (I keep calling butsumori “butsumono” because Animal Crossing is such a direct successor).

Harvest Moon design lesson #1: There is ludonarrative consonance between “simple gameplay systems” and “simple life in the farm”:

[Wada] took inspiration from Derby Stallion, a popular Japanese horse breeding and racing simulation, where raising horses would have payoff in race results. He also thought that just seeing screenfuls of statistics would make players feel disconnected from the simple pleasures of country life that he wanted to convey, so the decision was made early on to reduce the amount of digits on display. Instead, players would be able to gauge their progress through seeing visual cues, and more would be shown as the game progressed.

Harvest Moon design lesson #2: Chasing fun in gameplay systems is hard, and can only be done with experimentation. To make a minimalist game like this, you have to cut on systems that seem to add depth but to no benefit:

Early builds of the game showed promise, but ideas that sounded good on paper didn't always translate into gameplay so well. The core game involved caring for a herd of cows and interacting with NPCs in a village. However, caring for every aspect of the cows proved not to be very much fun, so their maintenance was simplified. Interactions with the village folk also felt stilted and dull. Wada realised that the reason why combat was an essential part of many games was because it added depth and challenge. Making a fun game without combat was proving more difficult than anticipated.

Harvest Moon design lesson #3: Instead of numbers and abstractions, give visible gratification to player input.

Simple tasks, such as clearing land for a field to plant crops, kept players' interest, and seeing the result of that work—the seeds sprouting for the first time—was immensely gratifying.

Think of how every action in Super Mario is instantly responded to with a sound effect. (If you compare Super Mario Deluxe with the original, one of the fine-tuning they did is to add even more sound effects, such as a screech to a halt when Mario changes direction—in different pitches for small Mario and big Mario.)

A Harvest Moon 1996-style farming game should add enough avenues of player expression that they get tempted to embark on “megaprojects” like Dwarf Fortress players, but (in contrast to DF) just enough systems to allow for that to emerge, and no more.

A Harvest Moon 1996-style farming game should have hidden little things that only happen in certain conditions, so the players feel like they are learning about the world, for a good while. This both adds an accent to the otherwise mechanical rhythm of the farming routine, and increases the feeling of immersion—when you've seen all a game has to offer, you stop imagining yourself in a new world like a kid; you spot the strings on the puppets, so to speak. But that moment can't be staved off forever, and the game shouldn't try. Discovering the hidden things should feel leisure, not like a TODO list—no achievements. Maybe there's a mushroom that only comes after rainy days, and if you see it at a night of full moon, it shines in the moonlight. Maybe if you let a type of weed alive for over a year it flowers on the second spring, and that attracts purely decorative butterflies. Maybe the otherwise prissy and judgemental old shopkeeper can be seen drinking at the bar exactly once per year. If you talk often enough to the travelling saleswoman who visits the town periodically, you find out she's the daughter of the shopkeeper; talk a bit more, and you find out that's the date she left home. That kind of thing.

A Harvest Moon 1996-style farming game should understand that the pixel art, the writing, the music and sound design are all crucial. Each of them should be based on the same design principles as the game systems: doing a lot with little; foregrounding nature and the rhythms of days and seasons; evoking a sense of peace, of things being manageable, of unpretentious, small scale living. As in the original Bokumono, it should be pleasant to climb up the hill and look at the scenery, just because the scenery is pleasant; you shouldn’t get a rare item or anything for climbing up the hill, you should get a feeling of peace. The protagonist of a Harvest Moon 1996-style farming game shouldn’t be a hero, they shouldn't save the city or the island or the forest. It is enough that they manage their farm well and bring some happiness to people and animals and plants around them.

The mood of Harvest Moon 1996 works well with melancholy, which suggests some gimmicks if you want to distinguish it in a crowded genre:

If you try to make a game “about” a given theme like these, the design question remains the same: how can you evoke that mood with gameplay elements that are as few as possible, while simultaneously being engaging to play with?