While The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time was among the first games I truly loved and Final Fantasy VII was the first to profoundly impact me, The Sims was the first to utterly consume me. Despite it being a good decade or so before the phrase “no life-ing” hit the internet, there is no better way to describe my relationship with the game. Every night–after I had finished my homework, dinner, and familial obligations–I would slink my way over to the family computer and live out my countless virtual lives in The Sims. On weekends, it would take a stern lecture from my parents to pry me away from the uncomfortable wooden chair that seemingly every family owned going into the new millennium. I was a woman–okay, seven-year-old girl–obsessed.
25 years later, EA has finally re-released a direct port of the iconic title as a part of its anniversary celebration. I approached the game with the same zeal and delight as I did all those years ago, eager to see if it held up. Although this might be surprising to hear, and might seem somewhat refuted by the time this article concludes, in some ways I truly believe it does. Despite going through multiple iterations since, the core gameplay remains essentially the same: You chug away at a career, struggle with work-life balance, save enough money to buy things that help you better attain said balance, then repeat. I know that sounds miserable, but it’s a grand time.
I was shocked by the fact that, despite feeling threadbare in comparison to later Sims titles, The Sims remains clever, well-designed, and fun. That said, I think a large part of why I had fun with the game was because it completely kicked my ass.
I don’t know why I thought that simpler gameplay would make for an easier experience; I’ve played enough retro platformers to know that simply isn’t true. Nevertheless, I went in with a cute naivety that would come back to haunt me. After an hour with the game, I found myself wondering if it was always this hard. Did I always struggle with keeping these needy little computer gremlins happy? Have years of having real problems and stressors reduced my ability to multitask to absolute garbage?
Though I giggled as I made my simplistic characters, finding the game’s countless bob haircuts and ’90s-ass focus on astrology signs as the end-all-be-all of personality to be utterly hilarious, I first encountered friction when I started to construct my small family’s home. Remember how you can only adjust furniture by selecting the hand tool in Build mode? I sure didn’t. Remember how it was an absolute pain to create diagonal walls, have two different carpet or wallpaper types in the same room, and create a house that didn’t look like blocky garbage? Same! However, these struggles paled in comparison to what was to come.
It was only once I had moved my sims into their new home that I realized that The Sims’ Create-A-Sim doesn’t allow you to establish relationships. As such, the “dad,” “mom,” and “son” I had created were entirely indifferent to one another. As day gave way to night and my sims’ energy bars began to burn red, I realized I couldn’t have the husband and wife share the same bed, as they were not even friends. For the first few nights, one half of this couple was forced to nap on the couch, as I could not afford a temporary second bed.
Soon after, I discovered these charming little people living in my computer were absolute slobs. Every time the son left the shower, a frankly alarming amount of water poured forth, covering the entirety of my quaint little bathroom. Despite having a sink and trash can readily available, trash and plates often ended up on the floor, spawning flies and roaches I would then have to spray. Even old newspapers attract bugs, making my sims, understandably, constantly grossed out by their surroundings.
Actually, let’s chat about the newspapers for a bit. Did you remember that each one contains only one job listing a day? The Sims 4 had left me spoiled. I took being able to whip out my free, Maxis-issued cellphone and accept any one of the game’s few dozen careers for granted. Sure, this can be somewhat remedied by a computer, which allows you to cycle through three positions, but I couldn’t afford a bed. There was no way in hell I was purchasing a pricey machine that only has two functions: “play” and “find job.”
In retrospect, maybe I should have purchased a computer, as despite my best efforts–and the purchase of a bookcase, toy chest, and hefty CRTV–these people were never having fun. This was extremely fair, however, as they were living in what can only be described as a capitalistic hellscape.
There is no calendar system in The Sims, which doesn’t seem like a big deal until you realize that means there is literally no reprieve from work and school. In later Sims games, weekends prove a vital time for your sims to form relationships, have fun, and catch up on things around the house. In the series’ first entry, every damn day is one you must commit to working a job that offers you zero vacation time and issues a thinly-veiled threat if you miss a day.
I never actively tried to miss a day of work; I made sure my sims were on that grindset. Yet there were a couple instances where my sims, backlogged by a string of commands I had issued in an attempt to make them content, missed their carpool or bus. Whereas later games allow you to show up to work or school a tad late, you snooze, you lose in The Sims. I had no choice but to watch as my sim son sat on the couch watching cartoons instead of getting to school. Fortunately for him, his parents didn’t formally recognize him as their child, meaning he was free from being lectured about his A dropping to a B.
Whereas leveling up my skills in order to be promoted wasn’t difficult, I was at a loss on how to make friends. My sims barely had time to come home, make dinner, talk to their pseudo-family members, and use the toilet. Yet somehow, I was expected to meet people and befriend them or else suffer a stagnating career. Between this and the fact that my oven seemed to catch fire every third or fourth time I used it, I have come to the conclusion that the original The Sims team were a buncha’ sadists. No offense, Mr. Will Wright. All the best game designers are.
Between trying to appease my sims, advance their careers, and the relentless honking of cars as they tried to peel out of the road only to be blocked by the bewildering amount of stray animals roaming my yard, I was ready to rip my hair out. I decided it was time to take a vacation which, fortunately, pauses “real life” so your sims don’t have to use a vacation day they don’t have.
I paid 500 simoleons for the vacation package, followed by an extra 120 to check into the shoddy motel in the mountains I had chosen to visit. At these prices, you would think that meals would then be included. You’d be wrong. I discovered this as my family tore through plate after plate of 25 simoleon meals.
For the most part, my sim family enjoyed their stay at Penguin Acres Campground. My sim-son got the chance to throw snowballs and snowboard, while his parents soaked in the location’s hot tubs. Though my mom sim repeatedly smacked the dad sim as he made a coy attempt to kiss her, he seemed to be happy when she agreed to a cuddle.
Upon returning home, I received a call from both of my sims’ places of employment. Turns out, the game did count them as skipping out on work; I suspect this is because they left for vacation right as their carpools arrived. Fortunately, neither of them lost their job, but their work performance did take a small beating.
Considering they were both home for the day, the wife then asked the husband to go downtown with her, perhaps as a way to make up for dismissing his advances back at the campsite. It was then that I remembered how delightful visiting places is in The Sims. In some ways, I think outings function more smoothly than they do in The Sims 4. Though once again my wife sim rebuked her husband’s suggestion that they make out in the restaurant booth (perhaps she just doesn’t like PDA?), the pair did play footsie and enjoyed a 300 simoleon meal that ate through the rest of the family’s savings.
Simply put, the original The Sims is an absolutely ridiculous game that is weirdly challenging–and I still absolutely love it. In many ways, it’s a sort of endearing time capsule that reflects not only what video games looked like at the turn of the millennium, but what society looked like both literally and figuratively. I was charmed by the game’s janky, mismatched furniture, and even more so when, after giving Bella Goth a call, not a text, she told me she would come over right after she finished her favorite soap. I still love how sims have inherent interests in certain topics, ranging from the weather and politics to aliens and the ’60s, and can adjust their conversations to appeal to others. It’s incredibly easy to see how this game revolutionized life sims and spawned a legendary series that has thrived for a quarter century. In this way, this rerelease is the perfect way to celebrate The Sims.
#Replayed #Sims #Kicked #Ass
