Where Cards Fall iOS
Developer The Game Band Publisher Snowman Format iOS Release Out now
Just as Netflix changed the way we watch TV, could Apple Arcade cause a shift in how we play – and how developers design – mobile games? Where Cards Fall suggests there could be something in that thought: certainly, its languid cadence goes against the attention-grabbing grain. Yes, it’s immediately beautiful – there’s a quiet magic within these recognisable urban spaces – but even by the standards of most puzzlers, it’s happy to take its sweet time. Its clever, tactile challenges are designed to be studied and savoured, its interstitial vignettes to be lingered over. Its protagonist, a boy steadily becoming a man, ambles along at your prompting, refusing to break into even a slow jog. Your tapped directions to him feel more like a gentle suggestion – a visual indicator that lets you know he’s about to jump is required, since he takes a second to summon the effort.
That’s no criticism; in fact, it’s appropriate for a game that positively invites chin-scratching contemplation. In these isometric stages, you’re given a few stacks of cards which, when you spread your fingers apart, spring up into temporary structures; these can be collapsed with a pinch, as long as something (or someone) isn’t on top of them. Together with the ramps and brick buildings that are already set firmly in place, you’ll arrange and rearrange these to form a route to the exit door. Sloped roofs offer a way for this dawdling teen – and the other stacks – to reach higher platforms, while strong winds cut multi-storey structures down to size, unless you’ve placed a sturdier type of card in their path, creating a skyscraper to block the breeze. Even with each level contained within a single screen, the solutions are often surprisingly intricate. A hint system tells you only where these card constructions should be, not how to get them there; should you get stuck again, you’ll need to wait for another clue, encouraging you to persevere rather than taking the easy way out.
This is not, then, the kind of game you pick up and play between train stops, but one to sit down with when you’ve got an afternoon stretching out in front of you. Just as the solutions take time to tease out, the story doesn’t readily show its hand. The young man’s journey takes him back through outwardly unremarkable memories and curious dreams that could yet be pivotal, while the cards hint towards a certain adolescent fragility. Resisting easy emotional crutches, these scenes (conducted in a Sims- like language that proves the biggest misstep) touch upon something profound about those empty spaces in our lives and how we fill them – leaving enough room for you to think about the hand you’ve been dealt.