As good as Castles of Mad King Ludwig is, I had to put Suburbia just a bit higher. At first glance, the pair seem fairly similar: players take turns drawing tiles which they build with. And it’s true, Suburbia lacks the unique purchasing mechanic that makes Castles work so well. But at the end of the day, this city building game is one of the best puzzles that I’ve ever seen, and edges out Ted Alspach’s other masterpiece by just a bit.
Suburbia sees players taking on the role of city planners, placing residential, commercial, government, and industrial buildings on hexagonal tiles. Every tile feeds off others around it, so as your city begins to sprawl in front of you, the values of the buildings you’ve already placed shifts and fluctuates. Think that pizza place was doing well before? Watch what happens when I put a condominium next to it, and that tiny little eatery starts spewing out cash like a spastic ATM. Think that row of luxury houses is a great thing? See how quickly people start turning on your town when you build a toxic waste dump right next door.
If all you had to concern yourself with was your city right in front of you, Suburbia would be a fascinating game, but not an exceptional one. But this game argues that every player at the table is working with a town bordering everyone else’s little borough. As such, when my super expensive fancy restaurant that has, until now, operated without competition, finds out about the new Italian bistro one town over, the profits drop, and it becomes increasingly worthless. An airport at the beginning of the game may seem like an odd investment, but as other towns open their own airports, that first one becomes incredibly lucrative.
I’ve said Suburbia is a great puzzle, and it is. But what’s difficult to express is how much personality each of these towns take on as players make choices regarding their specialization. I’ve inadvertently created a horrifying Mad Max-esque hellscape of nuclear plants, toxic waste dumps, landfills, and smoke spewing factories, with a tiny oasis of residential areas sequestered away from my wasteland. My city wasn’t very pleasant, but I was rolling in the cash, while another player’s quiet suburban paradise, replete with city parks, shopping malls, and lovely lakes netted him a huge population boost each time as he panicked over his dwindling budget.
The fact is, if someone asked me to choose between Suburbia and Castles of Mad King Ludwig, I’d tell them that they need to own both. Castles is a creative, hysterical game of lunatic architecture, and Suburbia is a deep, thoughtful game of planning and evolving. They’re similar enough that you can see the DNA they both share, but these two amazing titles stand wonderfully on their own.
- Dietrich Stogner
Suburbia sees players taking on the role of city planners, placing residential, commercial, government, and industrial buildings on hexagonal tiles. Every tile feeds off others around it, so as your city begins to sprawl in front of you, the values of the buildings you’ve already placed shifts and fluctuates. Think that pizza place was doing well before? Watch what happens when I put a condominium next to it, and that tiny little eatery starts spewing out cash like a spastic ATM. Think that row of luxury houses is a great thing? See how quickly people start turning on your town when you build a toxic waste dump right next door.
If all you had to concern yourself with was your city right in front of you, Suburbia would be a fascinating game, but not an exceptional one. But this game argues that every player at the table is working with a town bordering everyone else’s little borough. As such, when my super expensive fancy restaurant that has, until now, operated without competition, finds out about the new Italian bistro one town over, the profits drop, and it becomes increasingly worthless. An airport at the beginning of the game may seem like an odd investment, but as other towns open their own airports, that first one becomes incredibly lucrative.
I’ve said Suburbia is a great puzzle, and it is. But what’s difficult to express is how much personality each of these towns take on as players make choices regarding their specialization. I’ve inadvertently created a horrifying Mad Max-esque hellscape of nuclear plants, toxic waste dumps, landfills, and smoke spewing factories, with a tiny oasis of residential areas sequestered away from my wasteland. My city wasn’t very pleasant, but I was rolling in the cash, while another player’s quiet suburban paradise, replete with city parks, shopping malls, and lovely lakes netted him a huge population boost each time as he panicked over his dwindling budget.
The fact is, if someone asked me to choose between Suburbia and Castles of Mad King Ludwig, I’d tell them that they need to own both. Castles is a creative, hysterical game of lunatic architecture, and Suburbia is a deep, thoughtful game of planning and evolving. They’re similar enough that you can see the DNA they both share, but these two amazing titles stand wonderfully on their own.
- Dietrich Stogner