Animal Crossing: A Kids' Game For Adults

Words by Curmudgeon Film Talk

Understandably, lockdown has people desperately latching onto whichever form of escapism can keep them occupied long enough to curb the cabin fever. I, too, have found myself drowning out the ol’ existential dread in the form of incessant anime binging and Netflix. Here in the UK, the British government’s response to the pandemic might as well have been communicated through whale noises for all the good it’s done. That is to say…we might be here a while.

In light of this fact, and our government’s flagrant ineptitude, I caved and purchased Animal Crossing: New Horizons (2020) for the Nintendo Switch. It seems as though ACNH has blossomed at the ideal time. Everyone is stuck indoors, we’ve all got shedloads of time, and so forth. This isn’t to mention the obvious social dimension; friendships maintained digitally through the world of Animal Crossing, or – if you’re like me and have no friends – cute little animal people are a serviceable substitute.

That said, I must admit to having an unusual history with the Animal Crossing franchise. I played the original game briefly as a child and frankly didn’t have the attention span to stick it out. As a teenager, I borrowed New Leaf (2012) only to give up out of sheer boredom. Yet, as an adult, I’ve really taken a liking to New Horizons. In fact, to my eye, Animal Crossing appears to have garnered a lot of attention among adults, perhaps more so than children.

Being the endlessly curious and shamelessly boring person that I am, this phenomenon has really caught my interest. Why might Animal Crossing prove popular with adults?

Immediately striking upon firing up Animal Crossing: New Horizons is a motif common to the series, and other life sims of the same blend – the acquisition of property. Now, I may be biased in this regard, since my generation has reached the stage in our lives where acquiring and maintaining our own property is a reality. Some of us may even be planning our way onto the property ladder. As a guiding principle of the Animal Crossing brand, there’s an uncanny entertainment here which just doesn’t apply to children. Since the contemporary property ladder is more of a…pair of stilts slathered in grease than it is an actual ladder, the prospect of owning property is practically a pipe dream.

Indeed, Animal Crossing perhaps provides a bittersweet power fantasy to adults disillusioned with the woes of the housing market, of whom there are presumably many. There is, of course, an extension to this fantasy in the form of Tom Nook’s loans.

If you’ve even a passing familiarity with Animal Crossing, Tom Nook should ring a bell (pardon the pun). Some accuse him of being a filthy capitalist dog…or…tanuki, and some fall in favour of the fellow. Regardless, Tom Nook is the catalyst to your Animal Crossing adventure in New Horizons. Like the previous instalment, Nook provides the loans which enable you to attain property on your island.

The prospect of loans in a video game may touch a little too close to home for the majority of us saddled with crippling student debt, or debt of some other, colourful variety. Indeed, loans are an unfortunate truth of the adult condition. But again, Nook’s loans practically serve as some idealised, fantastical alternative – they can be paid back whenever you want, in as many instalments as you want, and they’re completely free of APR. A fantasy of the grown-up sensibility, and a sombre one, when you think about it. That the prospect of loans that don’t loom over you like a greedy, disgusting seagull can be considered a fantasy by modern standards is incredibly telling.

Nevertheless, it is a fantasy; something decidedly real and quotidian, minus the complication. Very much the same can be said of Animal Crossing’s cartoony, adorable villagers. Yes, they cutesy, and yes, they’re endearing (except for you Rodney, you disgusting, conceited pussbucket). But to those of us with a few years behind us, there’s perhaps a little more to be observed. They represent the apotheosis of Animal Crossing’s escapist tendency; an emulation of society, or community, without the complication. They can be easily calculated and appeased. Even down to their anthropomorphic little animal faces, they situate us in a world so close to our own, yet minus any of the harsh reality of adult life.

Mechanically speaking, too, Animal Crossing is more suited to the humdrum of adulthood than it is to the relative freedom of youth. The game plays out in real time, which might sound unimportant, but this aspect of regularity makes it incredibly easy to factor into a busy schedule. You couldn’t overindulge if you tried because there’s a limit to how much you can do in a day – that is, unless you’re content catching horse mackerel indefinitely (we’ll come back to that). Turnip prices change after midday…the shop closes at 10pm…fairly quickly I’ve found myself slotting the odd bit of gameplay into my timetable, breaking up the tedium of chores, errands, and work. God knows that Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018) has sat on my shelf for months, untouched. But Animal Crossing is just so…non-intrusive.

In fact, New Horizons is so scheduled that I just can’t imagine a child, with considerably more time on their hands, connecting with it in the same way.

Horse Mackerel no.203,462

Broadly speaking – and I’m sure what I’m about to say is applicable to any life sim – Animal Crossing is repetitive. New Horizons is no exception, but my enjoyment of the game in spite of this has me puzzled. Perhaps its repetitiveness is easy on the brain. Or, perhaps in my transition to adulthood I’ve become conditioned to the repetitive, quotidian banalities that have somehow settled in my brain like a rancid fungus. Yum.

Somewhere between the fifth “chop 10 pieces of wood” and my umpteenth horse mackerel of the day I realised that I was escaping the chores of adult life, into the chores of…another adult life…huh…

While New Horizons can definitely be criticised for its…glacial pacing, as well as its troubling reliance upon monotonous gameplay, it does say something of the adults of the modern age. I really believe that it provides a certain escapism that can only be truly understood with maturity. In short, Animal Crossing is a kids’ game for adults.

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Finally, here's a thing I caught that wasn't a bloody horse mackerel.