I'm a depressed queer millennial, of course I love Animal Crossing
IMAGE CAPTION: Flip, a monkey character in Animal Crossing, sings the words “Baldheadho, baldheadho, baldheadho, baldheadho! That’s awesome!” to my character. My character has grey locs, a halo, brown skin, and holds a star-shaped net. The scene occurs on a beach with palm trees in the background.
Although I don’t feel particularly connected to the term millennial for a number of reasons, I fit a few of the stereotypes through what I lack. I lack many milestones that 30-somethings in previous generations possessed, such as owning a house, having kids, and having stable employment at a job that will provide a pension for me in my later years. Plus, I’m queer, non-binary, and depressed.
Animal Crossing came out for the Gamecube in the early 2000s in the U.S. and is a game that I’d call a mixture of The Sims and Harvest Moon. Part simulation, part landscaping, part farming, part debt peonage, Animal Crossing is That Girl™. The new Nintendo Switch game, Animal Crossing: New Horizons, came out last month and picked up folks of all ages like some sort of katamari damacy due, in large part, to the COVID-19 shelter-in-place.
But why are children and adults all over the world choosing to pay sixty real dollars for another life simulation game? I mean, the in-game animal characters talk in the strangest gibberish and you quite literally begin the game in debt that you must pay off to the monopolizing Tom Nook, raccoon-in-chief. It’s simple: Animal Crossing is the perfect place to channel our personal and political frustrations.
We are currently in a global pandemic. Shit is rough out here. In the U.S., we have the abhorrent U.S. government response, the nebulous “essential worker” category putting many people at higher risk, higher rates of infection in Black, Indigenous, and poor areas, citizens who want to re-open the country as we reach one million COVID19 cases and counting as well as unemployment and financial issues so bad that a government stimulus package was created. Then add just a bit of video call fatigue, the exacerbation of mental health challenges, and touch starvation.
The reality is that people are dealing with a lack of attention, energy, and choice. We’re physically, emotionally, spiritually, and politically exhausted. So let’s get into why we cross these animals on a daily basis.
IMAGE CAPTION: Isabelle, a yellow dog character in Animal Crossing, makes daily announcements. Isabelle stands in their office with a frustrated face hair in a bun, saying “There’s no news that I can think of…It’s only Tuesday, so be sure to pace yourselves. Don’t overdo it!”
The main driver for this game is that nothing really matters. And that matters. Whereas I played Diablo II on a mode where a hostile player or creature could destroy your whole character and force you to start from scratch, you can’t even die in Animal Crossing. Whereas I played Breath of the Wild for the beautiful graphics, puzzles, and sometimes difficult gameplay, Animal Crossing has no difficulty setting. In fact, the worst thing I remember from the Gamecube version was getting roaches and weeds if I did not play for some time. And you can, get this, actually pay off your debt in the game, unlike in the real world [for many of us]. Low stakes gameplay in a high stakes world can be particularly relaxing.
The premise is simple, the execution is simple, and it is quite engaging for veteran and new players alike. You get to select your hemisphere—northern or southern—and the game mirrors the real world time. Your human character lands on a deserted island and is tasked with making it into whatever you want. The game is fantastic solo and does offer online play where you can visit and trade with friends—each island has a native fruit and flower—but you do have to pay, in realworld money, for Nintendo Online.
Customization remains a hallmark of the game, but you can also follow a set path if completely open-ended games stress you out. For example, you get to choose the initial layout of the island from only a few options. You can later change the layout, look, and feel of the whole island with terraforming and construction services, but you can also just leave everything as-is. Your island has some initial villagers, but you can invite more as you build up your island. You can wear store-bought clothes or make your own, you can change your island’s theme, and you can complain about one of the residents if they get a lil funky with you or if you just don’t like the way they look.
IMAGE CAPTION: Tammi, a lemur character wearing a green jacket, speaks to my character in her wood and floral-inspired home. Tammi says “Here, I’ll trade you! It’s a velvet stool and I hear you LOVE those!” My character reaches to put the object into their pocket. They wear a yellow pansy in their hair, a pink/red ancient robe, and a star-shaped satchel.
Animal Crossing, for me, is a balm. It is not a one-size-fits-all balm, but it is just one of the many balms I am using to get through life on a daily basis. I, like many others, truly look forward to making time in my day to play the game. There is a certain satisfaction in each new accomplishment, no matter how small. I got a badge for the first time I shot a present—tied to a ballon, they float through the air and contain a surprise gift—and it landed in the water. Do you realize that means that I got a badge…for failing? My character does a little happy dance for each step of upgrading from a tent to a multi-story home. And the details make it especially worth it. The game provides over 40 “reactions” your character can learn and utilize, ranging from tears to bashfulness.
Damn near everything in this game is fun, so much so that I find comfort in completing my self-appointed “daily chores” on Quarantina, in-game my island. Keep in mind that none of these chores have to get done, but I enjoy them and they help me progress in the game. I run around in the game for an hour collecting fossils, assessing those fossils, donating to the museum, planting money trees (literally), shaking trees for fruit/furniture/wasps/bells (also literally), fishing for new species, catching new bugs, crossbreeding flowers, buying new outfits and accessories, meeting new characters, hearing/reading my villagers call me “baldheadho,” mining my island for renewable resources, decorating my house, and never having to go to a traditional “job.”
I get to construct a fantasy world centered around my lil bobblehead baldheadho avatar and it has just the right amount of predictability and surprise. The only thing I need to improve the game is for online play to feel less like dial-up and for some of the in-game action animations to take less time. Other than that, I’m so grateful that I get to build a wonderful world with little material consequence, but great personal satisfaction.