‘Love, Ghostie’ is sweet, romantic and just a little too streamlined

Look, I didn’t expect it either, but Gerard the Giraffe and Noir the (literal) black Sheep have great chemistry. That karaoke date I forced them on? Delightful. Their “chance” meetings in the living room? Electric. Give me a few more days and some purloined gifts, I’ll have these two ready to move out and start a new life together.

So goes my afterlife as a clandestine matchmaker. New indie game “Love, Ghostie” distills the in-game relationship mechanics I’ve obsessed over into a breezy few hours. It’s like a bite-sized version of “Spiritfarer” or “Fire Emblem” — but without any epic battles or harrowing allegories for grief. While my ardor for it cooled as fast as it started, it’s still an impressive, if derivative, synthesis of G-rated voyeurism and spreadsheet optimization. But before I say more, I must disclose that I first heard of this game from my colleague, NPR engineer Gilly Moon, who also served as the game’s sound designer.

“Love, Ghostie” isn’t designed to be a mechanical or emotional challenge — instead, it’s got cozy vibes and cute critters in spades. Your job is to lure an anthropomorphic cast — which include the likes of a frog prince, a spacey polar bear and a walking, talking plant — to empty rooms in your house, snoop on their diaries and watch as they (probably) fall in love.

The game often winks at this manipulative premise, even as it cloaks its most sinister social engineering in cheery writing and a simple, Neopets-esque aesthetic. You’ll invisibly zip around, ‘stealing’ whimsical items that materialize in your attic and common rooms, only to regift them to suitable residents under another resident’s name, thereby increasing their happiness meter and relationship levels.

Rank relationships up high enough and you’ll get treated to unique conversations. At the end of each day, you and your ghost buddies will also watch a date you arranged in some sort of metaphysical movie theater. Max out a relationship, and you can retire the pair from your house, unlocking their final scenes. They’ll leave plushie versions of themselves behind — trophies to your matchmaking prowess.

I swooned over this loop the first night I tried it, but after 30 in-game days, I ran out of steam. I sent two layabouts on vacations so others could replace them. I shipped off my beloved Ami, a hamster engineer, with BEEP0, the robot she came to care for. I mastered every minigame, and encountered recycled date dialogue a few too many times. Ultimately, the experience felt oddly empty. Almost like I really was a ghost, living vicariously through those trusting enough to move into a free apartment. Maybe there’s some sly satire there — but it still left me wanting.

Mine is not the only NPR opinion about “Love, Ghostie,” however. Co-worker Nina Fill and I have been corresponding about it all week. “I often play games that have a lot going on or rules I forget about, but ‘Love, Ghostie’ has been a very welcome simple game in my life,” she told me. “I wish the game didn’t fly by so quickly but otherwise I wouldn’t change anything.”

My final verdict? “Love, Ghostie” is so streamlined that it’ll leave even its most passionate supporters pining for more. But for less than $20, maybe all it really needs to do is make a great first impression. One day, if a sequel comes out with more complex characters and maybe an overarching drama (like something akin to, say, “Boyfriend Dungeon”), I could easily be tempted back into its warm embrace.