“Emio — The Smiling Man: Famicom Detective Club is a refreshingly mature turn for Nintendo in more ways than one.”
- Gripping mystery
- Well-developed characters
- Payoff is worth it
- Throwback visual novel format
- Some bloated writing
- Light on deduction
A fleet of adults hover over a teenage boy’s corpse. Marks on his neck indicate that he’s been strangled to death, while an odd paper bag placed over his head bears the smiling trademark of a serial killer who preys on sad children. Police officers and detectives swarm the scene, clinically hunting for clues around the lifeless body to track down the killer. None of them are asking the important question: What is it that’s making local kids so distraught that their town has become easy pickings for a killer drawn to pain? It’s a job fit for a “Boy Detective.”
In Emio — The Smiling Man: Famicom Detective Club, Nintendo revives a classic NES mystery series in order to tell the most mature story the publisher has ever put its name on. That’s not because of its creepy killer, occasional swears, or blood-soaked corpses. Though Emio is advertised as a supernatural horror game, its real heart lies in a quiet, grounded story about the invisibility of childhood trauma and how it tends to evade adult eyes.
Despite thin detective gameplay that may be light on actual deduction, Emio — The Smiling Man makes up for that with a slow-burn visual novel story that goes in completely unexpected directions. Its grisly tone and M-rating may feel surprising for a Nintendo game, but Emio meets young players at a level Nintendo is uniquely positioned to reach them at.
Childhood trauma
A sequel to the NES’ Famicom Detective Club series, Emio — The Smiling Man puts players in control of two teenage sleuths working out of the Utsugi Detective Agency. They’re roped into a murder case after a local school boy is strangled and a paper bag adorned with a smiley face is placed on his head. That doesn’t just line up with a series of murders that rocked the town 18 years prior, but an urban legend about a mysterious killer called The Smiling Man who targets kids. That sets the stage for a gripping detective story filled with clues, suspects, and misdirection.
That last word is the key one; Emio doesn’t go where you’re likely expecting it to. While early advertising teased a horror creep show with supernatural flair, the visual novel mostly operates at a street level. Both detectives take turns rummaging around town and meeting its wide cast of characters. These aren’t just talking heads that spout clues. Each one is a fully developed human, several of whom have their own detailed backstory that paints a wider picture of the town. After a few chapters of chatting with students and teachers, it becomes increasingly clear that Emio isn’t so much about its namesake killer as it is their victims.
Over the course of a slow-burn eight-hour runtime, Emio repaints a picture of a town through the eyes of its most vulnerable inhabitants. It’s an exploration of unresolved childhood trauma that hangs thick in the air, but that no adult can detect. Its mysterious killer serves as a perfect symbol for that story: a murderer who only seemingly appears before lonely, crying children. The killer’s identity almost becomes a secondary case. Why are these pained kids left so unprotected that a murderer like that could easily get to them in the first place? That’s the real mystery.
It’s the most mature piece of storytelling to ever come out of a Nintendo game.
Players will need to exercise a lot of patience to let that story pay off. Its lack of creepy imagery or spooky thrills can feel puzzling at first. Some scenes also tend to drag, with overwritten and circular dialogue that pads out the runtime (do I really need to spend 10 minutes having a nursing home attendant explain that I need an appointment to get in?). Even the payoff is sure to be polarizing as it’s initially more invested in its thematic wrap-up than filling in every plot hole.
I’d urge any player interested in the game to stick with it to the end despite all of that. Its final moments snap the entire saga into place and leave players with perhaps the most mature piece of storytelling to ever come out of a Nintendo game. It’s a perfect fit for the publisher, too. Nintendo games have long told tales about bright childhood experiences, from the coming-of-age tale of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time to the sincere schoolyard storytelling of Pokémon Scarlet and Violet. Emio graduates to a logical next level by listening to its youngest players’ pain and making them feel seen. It’s Nintendo using its powerful platform for good, rather than for fun.
Detective work
While the central mystery is gripping, the detective work needed to uncover it is more passive. Emio is less of a deduction game and more of a visual novel with a few extra steps. Most of the story happens in talking head conversations with neatly drawn character illustrations and scenic backdrops. Interactions happen through a sidebar menu with a long list of options, from questioning to observing the environment in light point-and-click gameplay (the lack of touc screen support here is an odd quirk considering that loop). It’s a charmingly unabashed throwback, right down to its retro sound effects and synthetic music loops that sound like they were pulled from the Game Boy Advance.
The most memorable sequences aren’t painted in blood.
The gameplay loop is similar to the one found in previous Famicom Detective Club games, and it comes with similar pain points. Progressing through scenes is an order of operations puzzle where I need to keep clicking the right options to trigger the next part of the conversation. Sometimes it’s not clear that I need to click a dialogue option I’d already selected or select “think” twice in a row. That experience has been improved, though, as dialogue includes more contextual clues that hint about what needs to be done next. Those who pay close attention to highlighted words and pick up on Emio’s hint language will be able to get through it more smoothly, though a few solutions wind up feeling random.
Those hoping to piece the story together themselves may end up wishing they had more room to sleuth. The only real deduction happens at the end of each chapter as players use character profiles and clues in their notebook to review the day’s learnings. It’s more of a case comprehension check than anything, which did at least make it so I always had the story straight.
While I sometimes wished I had more room to put the puzzle pieces myself, that’s not exactly Emio’s focus. As one local bartender puts it (in more colorful terms), the tortured residents of its world don’t need another cop interrogating suspects; they just need someone to listen. The real detective work is simply in listening to kids who feel like they don’t have a voice and adults who have repressed their own childhood trauma for decades. The most memorable sequences aren’t painted in blood; they quietly happen in nursing homes and auto body shops. So long as you’re willing to hear its characters out — to really understand what they’ve been through rather than trying to crack them like a puzzle — the more your patience will pay off with the most emotionally resonant Nintendo game in decades.
Emio — The Smiling Man: Famicom Detective Club was tested on a Nintendo Switch OLED.
