On paper, Tsukimonogatari represents a continued expansion on the Monogatari universe, with the usual wild art and narrative style substantiated by extremely strong writing, meticulous pacing and development, and a host of deep human concepts at work behind the guise of a supernatural ghost story. When the curtains raise, Araragi gives a monologue about the importance of this tale, of the doll named Ononoki Yotsugi, and how the following events will signify the beginning of the end of their crazy tale of adolescence. It delivers it all in usual form, with his echoed voice over top of incongruent clips of Yotsugi’s mundane but wacky antics, all performed with a neutral expression frozen on her face.
But when we see the first cutaway chapter card, a trademark of the series since the first season, something is clearly different. Rather than a solid, professional looking card, we get words typed on pieces of loose-leaf paper, roughly cut and slid onto the screen in succession. There are a few theories as to why the producers changed their signature look after so long, and some may dismiss it as an insignificant change, but it is a warning that we are getting a somewhat different kind of story than the other installments. And while it does not become abundantly clear for an episode, Tsukimonogatari indeed represents the oddest of the bunch; however, the oddest part of it being unique is that it does so by being the most straightforward and mundane story to date.
Much of the first episode passes in what could be described as typical Monogatari fashion—slapstick fun and odd sexual tension between Araragi and his sisters. It's reminiscent of the days of Nisemonogatari, although it does spend much more time directly confronting the tension (or lack thereof) than in Nise, where the big joke about them all being naked around one another seemed to be that they did not notice in the slightest. The very end of the first episode is where things suddenly go wrong, in the middle of nothing happening—Araragi looks in the mirror and finds that his shadow has disappeared. Fans of the occult will probably pick up the most plausible implication immediately, given that Araragi does host a vampire inside of him and has spent the better part of a year exploiting its powers. In short course we receive confirmation that he is indeed transforming into a vampire himself, and that his overuse of Shinobu is to blame. To avoid a full transformation, he must stop using his powers altogether. He agrees, but shortly thereafter his sisters are kidnapped by a hunter of immortal monsters like him, and he is forced to make decisions about how to save everyone.
If this sounds like the plot of a B-movie to you, you would be completely right. It is by no means boring, and the famed writer Nisio Isin shows how any story can be made interesting with the right touches. And again, the clever writing and visual styles we have seen in installment after installment of Monogatari anime shine through in full, with dialogue spiraling in all possible directions, entirely tangential to the visuals on screen, and complete with healthy servings of head tilts and absurd physical structures. However, one thing that may stick out just within the narrative style is the use of background music. Monogatari had a few fairly recognizable tracks that would play during points of exposition, and had neither uplifting nor dramatic qualities to them. They were just a constant refrain, like the title cards, and moments of high tension or resolution were often lacking in music so as to not play up the emotions of the scene any more than was necessary. Tsukimonogatari takes a more Hollywood approach, with lightheated tracks announcing the arrival of better times and soft piano melodies to tug at our heartstrings as emotions run high. While it has the intended effect, it seems to reassert the feeling that Tsukimonogatari lacks some of the maturity and depth that has made the series shine.
With one episode of incest and two episodes of explaining to Araragi the position he is now in, there is little time for resolution of the conflict, let alone any psychological implications or themes beyond the surface level plot. The resolution does come in a very unexpected way, and the ending undeniably changes the nature of the entire story, and yet it comes a little too late to make it all feel particularly worthwhile or deep.
The other gaping issue at hand is the relevance of Yotsugi, who is named as the central character in Tsukimonogatari but who does not get any relevance until halfway through, and only begins to stand out from the rest of the cast with 20 minutes left. The title is Yotsugi Doll, and with the opening narrative there was plenty of setup for a story about feeling human and how obeying the wishes of others causes her internal conflict. We get basically none of that; she mostly serves to move the plot along at a few key moments, and while the ending does make her status of a doll relevant, it is only as a warning to Araragi rather than any development pertaining to Yotsugi herself. This could have been a stylistic choice by Isin, who decided that having Yotsugi only work as a tool for the narrative befits her role as a doll. I personally feel that even if this were the case, it does not serve the series particularly well, as it misses the chance for the more pensive take on youth and psychology that has traditionally elevated the series to be widely recognized as a masterpiece of youth literature.
Again, none of this serves to make it unenjoyable, and Tsukimonogatari still stands out as a great example of taking standard plots with creative, non-traditional narrative techniques and solid execution to make a unique and interesting experience. For those that have not enjoyed the Monogatari series thus far, none of the changes will be enough to make it more appealing, and longtime fans of the series may find themselves surprised by the direction it chooses to take. Interestingly enough, Tsukimonogatari feels more like a first attempt by Isin to find a style and characters to expand upon than yet another installment in a series he seems to have complete control over.