Animal Crossing: New Horizons
Developer/publisher Nintendo (EPD) Format Switch Release 2020
The glut of additions for v2.0 seems antithetical to what Animal Crossing is all about: here is a game of delayed gratification, its drip-feed of discoveries delivering a steady but regular dose of slow-release serotonin. Yet those new features don’t all come at once. There are immediate appreciable changes, yes, and those who haven’t drifted away are perhaps best placed to notice the subtler, less trumpeted tweaks. Either way, the rush of delight – tinged with nostalgia for some, of course – that accompanies your first sighting of Kapp’n’s boat by the pier is hard to deny. The fact that the crooning kappa (you can applaud or laugh at the new lyrics that accompany his familiar melodies) takes you to special islands that can’t be reached by air is merely a bonus.
There is a whiff of fan service about much of what’s here – a sense that Nintendo is pandering to complaints by welcoming back features and characters that New Horizons appeared to have left behind for good. But the return of old favourites such as hairdresser Harriet and former mayor Tortimer (not to mention his autumnal alter-ego) to hippie Harv’s island commune makes for a welcome disruption to the old routine. And, well, it’s a treat to see them again: we greet them much as we would a friend we haven’t bumped into for some time. It’s their sheer presence, more than their mechanical function, that’s most pleasing – though we admittedly only spend our Bells on a caravan for shady art dealer Redd for daily opportunities to get our hands on the last few pieces to complete our museum collection (which, thanks to the newly improved camera app, we can now stroll around and examine in firstperson).
To some, this might seem like a lot of fuss over very little – especially since we could be discussing the more substantial paid expansion, Happy Home Paradise (essentially 3DS’s Happy Home Designer with an inferior interface, but a couple of delightful new faces, and thus worth the outlay). But these are exciting developments in a series that has always encouraged us to appreciate – celebrate, in fact – life’s mundanities. Which brings us to the museum coffee-house, The Roost, and its pigeon proprietor Brewster: perhaps the ultimate expression of what sets the series apart. As he carefully pours out your vacuum-brewed java, every action mesmeric in its stately smoothness, this softly spoken fellow – an introvert who slowly opens up, like seamstress Sable – represents nothing more than a quiet luxury. Of the various new activities (Gyroids, cooking, even polishing) that may have found their way into your routine, this soothing ritual, meaningful in its very meaninglessness, is perhaps the best excuse of all to keep playing.