On the face of it, the conceit that lies at the heart of Moncage isn't a particularly novel one. It's a puzzle game that's all about perspective, where changing your view or shifting your position can make the scene in front of you morph into something very different. It's about reframing - your opinions every bit as much as your view - until, with a little imagination and a touch of trial and error, you realise that you can take those shadows and stony dead-ends and turn them into something else. Something more hopeful.
It's a magical thing, really. Truly brilliant. That said, sometimes it feels like there's too much going on. Sometimes the scenes in front of you switch so unexpectedly - you'll know when it happens by a gentle audio cue and a golden glow from the window that's been updated - that you'll struggle to keep track of what's going on no matter how hard you keep on top of it. It's an on-the-nose metaphor for real life, I guess.
Other times, though, things seem unbearably dark. Bleak. You look for ways to improve it - perhaps force a little sunshine into your world - and that's a fitting enough analogy, too, especially when you find yourself too close to something to see the bigger picture, or too distant to examine the delicate detail. Or are you looking at everything through the distorted lens of alcohol, and maybe seeing things that aren't really there at all?