Why do I like this? Sure, I could consult YouTube for a plethora of videos describing how it's a satire on capitalism that also acts as an escape for Millennials to achieve the base American Dream of owning a house. I could also listen to some podcast escribing how the simplistic, relaxed gameplay allows people to slow down in real life and appreciate the beauty in the mundane. Maybe I'll write a saucy manifesto about how I met K.K. Slider when he was just making a name for himself. But, I don't really give a shit because I know what makes this game appealing: Progression.
From the onset of the island, Animal Crossing says "you can do whatever you want," but it sets milestones to provide general direction. That sense of progression gives meaning to your method. Need a new root vegetable trading space to sell turnips on what every good economic market is based? Congratulations, your loan payment on the botanical safe house is the reachable objective. The museum collectathon urges players to complete the critterpedia, which can take a full year to fill because the game plays in real-time. That means certain fish and bugs are only available during select seasons based off your hemispheric location. Even island customization goes beyond personal aesthetics since you can achieve a five-star rating from Isabelle.
Animal Crossing is such a slow burn, and given that certain events like a shop remodel can take a real-time day to finish, you need to give the player a reason to come back. The first thirty hours accomplish that as you unlock new tools, structures, and furniture. You can explore random islands to collect additional resources, and discover new characters to bring back in another failed attempt at satisfying Tom Nook's insatiable thirst for a monopolistic stronghold over people. As your island grows each new villager brings a unique personality, and passive aggressive comments that you haven't talked to them in a while, to round out your tropical living.
My favorite part about this game is the fishing. Running around trying to collect every breed and the satisfaction at finally catching a Stringfish is comparable to waking Blathers from his afternoon snooze. So why the everlasting fuck do I need to individually craft each and every fish bait I need to catch that beautiful bastard? I'm assuming Nintendo told their UI guy to eat ass because interactions can make the rope in the closet sound very appealing. Requiring each item to be individually crafted is dumb. This game is meant to have a very long play life, and that means small annoyances become monumental disadvantages. Walking down the street with a pebble in your shoe, bearable. Having to run a whole marathon with it in your shoe... around mile five you consider amputating the entire foot.
I also thought I had finally gotten rid of Sega Bass Fishing for the Dreamcast, but apparently, it was reborn in Animal Crossing because all you catch are bass. Oh wow another Sea Bass, no wait it's more of a C+. HahahHAhaHahA. You cannot change the pun levels like you can the joke frequency in Bubsy. Every time I dig up a Manilla clam I get to hear vanilla is my favorite flavor. When I catch a Black Bass, I'm reminded that it's the most metal of all fish. When I decide to make out with a .22, I'll be told it's a blast.
When booting up a game that wants you to play every day, convenience is king. Online multiplayers get you into the action as fast as possible. Load a screen, hit a button, enter a lobby, and boom you're in the game. What you can't do is create multiple friction points because once the expedited progress slows down you start losing players. In a game that makes medial chores and tasks cutsey fun, if it starts feeling like work, I don't want to play anymore. The drop rates for certain fish are very rare. The Stringfish alone was an ordeal of around 120 bait. That meant I had to walk around digging up clams to be assaulted by the same vanilla pun, go to a workbench, individually craft bait that the character would show off, and then repeat the process 120 more times. Then I could go fish. Just catching bass after bass after bass until God decided I had suffered enough and granted me peace. Now when I want another rare fish that process can start all over again, which is not appealing.
This doesn't just extend to the fish, it's present to some degree throughout the entire game. Why do I need Blathers to assess every fossil each time before I can find out if it's donatable? Why can't I just buy multiple items at once especially from the nook terminal? Why do the insects also have the same issue of rarity? Why can't I just connect to my friends through our Switch ID? Why can't I just buy an island getaway ticket from the Dodo when he asks me where to go? Why do I have to go through the same five dialogue boxes for tasks the game expects me to do multiple iterations of? Why is there no settings app on your phone so you can speed up text or turn off puns?
Like the tumor of hustle culture and unrelenting corporate expectations, the creep of work into our personal lives becomes more apparent the deeper you go. The upside is these cons don't begin carrying much weight until you've settled into the game and gotten a fair amount of Nook Miles out of it. The only potential area of continued harm is if seasonal events continue in the vein of Bunny Day where all the fun parts of the game were replaced with eggs that you could use to make dumbass egg furniture. At that point, you can use the rope in the closet to string up that furry son of a bitch.
The ocean breeze and laid-back escape to your own island resort, especially considering the current global pandemic confining everyone to their homes, is an enjoyable distraction during these apocalyptic times. Life is a never-ending series of medial tasks, but now it's a lot cuter with Timmy and Tommy threating to break my knee caps if I don't pay back Nook's zero-interest loan by Friday.