In so many ways, Tomodachi Life: Living the Dream shouldn’t work.
For starters, this is a life-sim game that is coming on the back of not one, but two massive games from within the same genre, from the same publisher, in almost the same financial year. Having barely stopped playing Pokémon Pokopia long enough to give Tomodachi Life: Living the Dream a try, Animal Crossing: New Horizons had a major Switch 2 update, which caused that to be a massive part of my life again. But here we are.
Some history first, though. Originally the Tomodachi Life series started out on Nintendo 3DS back in the early 2010s. This was a game that, like NintenDogs before it, felt designed to show off functionality of a system. Where Nintendogs and Cats had 3D, stylus controls, and more, Tomodachi Life took the (much maligned, if memory serves, actually) Miis of the Nintendo Wii and DS era, and brought them to life in a game dedicated to them.
Some ten plus years later, Tomodachi Life: Living the Dream is here for Nintendo Switch (note: not a Switch 2 exclusive, and unless I’m wrong, doesn’t even have a Switch 2 edition) and it’s bonkers, and crucially, very very funny.
See, I think actually funny games are few and far between. Adding the qualifier “for a game” doesn’t count in my books either. I don’t watch TV shows and add qualifiers for comedians; they make me laugh or they don’t. Comedy is subjective, of course, and I’ll make no bones about loving the silly aspects of life. Frankly, if I ever stop laughing at farts, I’ll consider starting a funeral plan.
No, Tomodachi Life: Living the Dream is actually funny. It feels oddly anarchic with it, too. I decided that I’d create Loot Level Chill island, partly because I’m in my 40s and devoid of any real creativity, and partly because it’s sort of been a long-standing joke to make an island like this with a friend for years. I made myself, and quickly realised I had to be in the game, and also the “overseer” of Plopton Island. Again, I make no apologies for my silliness.
Plopton Adam has the shaved head I’m too ashamed to show in real life, though he did eventually get a hat. Even in a silly made up game my insecurities come out, it seems. He’s less fat than me (but so is a pregnant hippo, in fairness), but despite the fact that all you’re doing is adjusting some sliders, picking some traits, and making a Mii-approximated version of yourself, somehow the game nailed me in a way I wasn’t prepared for, anxieties and all.
Next up was Lyle. Flamboyant and expressive, Lyle ended up wearing colourful shirts and star-shaped Elton John-style glasses. He calls me Bossman, and I call him Lyl, because that’s what we do on our Patreon-only quiz sessions. He, like Steve who came next, has a deeper voice than me, and while I considered giving them both the “bear” voice which is super deep, I decided if I was going to do things right, I should do them right. So I spent time perfecting their lilts, timbres, and affectations to be, well, nothing like them in real life to be honest. It’s simply far too tempting to make one of your friends sound borderline Australian with his timbre lifting to sound like every sentence is a question, sorry.
The voices are ridiculous. I showed the cast of characters to my family, all of whom laughed. I showed them clips of myself and Lyle meeting up, and for some reason the Adam in the game was dancing, kicking his little feeties around, and showing off. Lyle likes “playing games”, and so does Adam, so now they’re best buds. True to life, I guess. Adam found a Nintendo Switch and gave it to Lyle, who now sits by the luscious fountain, furiously playing games all day every day.
Steve, however, well he’s an odd fruit. For some reason, he “fell on his face and couldn’t get up”. To this day neither Adam nor Lyle know why. But “overseer” Adam picked him up like he’s a little doll, and saved him from his reverse turtle-like fate. Then the news anchor appeared (which was also Steve, but is sometimes Lyle, and sometimes Adam) to tell me that a fashion shop had opened, and I was trying to spend my money within seconds.
I bought Steve some tacos, and he liked them. I bought those tacos from the shop which was staffed by Steve (which is sometimes Adam, and sometimes Lyle), then I bought Lyle some orange juice from the same shop, which was now staffed by Adam (sometimes Steve, and sometimes Lyle), and he liked it. I looked into Steve’s dreams and he was imagining Lyle running towards him, suddenly as the perspective shifted becoming a giant and looking down at him with wide-eyed wonder, which was actually rather terrifying.
What is Tomodachi Life: Living the Dream? I don’t really know. It’s a life-sim that has me thinking about making Taskmaster casts living on an island. It’s a fever dream that offers manic nonsense content that made my whole family laugh pretty much non stop, no matter what I was doing in it. It’s also a game you can make surprisingly accurate visual representations of your friends as Miis in, which still amuses over a decade later.
Tomodachi Life: Living the Dream is silly. It knows that, it embraces that, and it’s all the better for it. This is a game that knows it’s a game, not high art. It’s not trying to do anything else other than entertain you and make you chuckle at the absurdity of the life lived within. And frankly, right now who wouldn’t want something like that in their life? Oh, and if you play the demo and complete it, you get a hamster costume to wear in the full version. Sold.
Tomodachi Life: Living the Dream is coming to Nintendo Switch on April 16th.
