Remember last time how I said I was reading a lot of books? Now I’m playing a lot of Pokemon Pokopia. In fact, I’d rather be playing Pokopia right now! But in lieu of that I figured I would write about it.

Pokemon Pokopia is like a combination of Minecraft and Animal Crossing. (And I have more to say on Animal Crossing in a moment!) The characters you interact with are 300 (mostly) cute Pokemon who just wanna play and help. This is a game for anyone who’s wanted to play with Pokemon but not fuss about battling and training — kind of like that stop-motion Pokemon Concierge show on Netflix, and kind of like Pokemon Snap, in which the goal is to capture wildlife photos.

Early in the Pokemon Pokopia gameplay, the player knows there are tasks to do to progress the story, but you’re also reassured that you can do whatever you want. No pressure, no danger, no stress. 

It’s the kind of game I can play while my baby is napping inches away and it won’t wake him. The sounds and music are reliably soothing, and I can turn the game off the moment he stirs, whether that’s after two hours or ten minutes.

Pokopia has me thinking about cozy games again. Escape reality with me, won’t you?

Disclaimer: I’m writing about video games in a light way, and I recognize that the video game industry is in a hairy spot for both players (e.g., backlash against Playstation discontinuing physical game discs) and for the people working in the industry (e.g., layoffs and layoffs and layoffs). And because this is a “news”letter and that’s the news lately, I just want to mention that! Ok! Back to escapism.

Animal Crossing almost always shows up in a shortlist of examples of cozy games. It’s also a cozy game with pretty high mainstream recognition.

Animal Crossing: New Horizons for Nintendo Switch saw incredible popularity largely because of its release around the start of the Covid-19 pandemic. Players found that hours of gameplay on their Animal Crossing island gave them something to enjoy during lockdowns, even satisfying some of their psychological needs in a time of reduced autonomy and social isolation. People got themselves Switches and fired up the game even if they had never played a previous Animal Crossing title, and maybe had never played many video games at all.

When the world was feeling especially grim and we couldn’t safely do much outside our homes, this low-stress game helped so many people cope.

Personally, Animal Crossing really does hold a place among all my strong pandemic memories. I was one of those people taking long breaks from reality by crosspollinating flowers and paying off imaginary debt to a tanuki (omg I actually thought that was spelled “tanooki,” thanks Mario). 

In the spring of 2020, I visited my real friends’ islands to socialize on video calls and showcase our setups. I checked in on my island and villagers between client meetings and I listened to Animal Crossing YouTube videos while I was working at my desk.

In the summer, as I was traveling for in-person client work (constantly masked and nervous), I brought the game with me to Bismarck, Salt Lake City, and Denver to occupy myself and wind down in hotel rooms.

In the fall, I decorated my island for Halloween and opened it up for real-life people to pop in for trick or treating.

And when the first in-game snow hit for the winter, my friends and I texted each other about how cute it was.

And over these months, I steadfastly built my museum exhibits piece by piece, and vowed to visit SO MANY REAL MUSEUMS when they would reopen after lockdowns (which I’ve done, I think!). Playing this silly game during the first year of Covid, it gave me something to connect with others about, and while playing I felt a faint trace of what it’s like to go places for real.

Animal Crossing: New Horizons helped make the term “cozy game” very marketable — Steam is currently showing me 3,327 game matches for the tag “cozy.” But I think the popularity of these sorts of games (I’m thinking Stardew Valley, too) helped give a name to an existing feeling that people seek when they want a soothing game experience.

In Pokemon Pokopia, the general premise is that humans are gone, and former towns are in disrepair in the distant aftermath of natural events like a drought, volcano eruption, and flooding. The player (a Ditto in human form) re-welcomes Pokemon villagers, one by one, by cleaning up and beautifying areas, arranging specific combinations of items, reopening Pokemon Centers, and eventually building houses and towns. Oh, and there’s a museum too.

The continual progress of transforming and terraforming neglected spaces and watching them come to life is really satisfying and, well, cozy.

It may seem self-explanatory, but what are common characteristics of a cozy game?

There’s another important aspect of cozy games, which is really more about ourselves. 

A sense of play taps into our youthful brain. This report by Sago on the rise of cozy gaming (I really wish I had done this project myself tbh, please hire me for interesting behavior and trends research 🙏) shares the findings from a really interesting open-ended survey question: if players could experience any childhood memory as a digital experience, what would that be? Respondents mentioned things like building tree houses and exploring imaginary worlds — creative, carefree fun.

Cozy games — the creative play, the childlike simplicity, the cute optimism — can make us feel like kids again. I think this nostalgia element is also one reason why retro pixelated art of games like Stardew Valley also works really well for those of us who grew up in the time of simpler graphics.

Nostalgia can create a cozy experience for non-cozy games. Even if the game isn’t a Stardew Valley or Disney Dreamlight Valley or any valley at all, we might feel warm and fuzzy about it because it’s tied to positive memories, especially from childhood.

A remake of the 1998 N64 classic The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time was big news from the June 9th Nintendo Direct event. Some viewers noted that the announcement video made them feel inexplicably emotional. For a demographic I personally fall into, Ocarina of Time was a major cultural touchstone in our youth. It’s in our bones. I often say that, as a kid, the first time I played as Link in Kokiri Forest changed my DNA! I couldn’t sleep that night!

To many, revisiting that game (and for you, it might be other games) is remarkably like revisiting a really cozy part of our own youth, when we explored something that felt totally new and exciting.

We all want to feel a little less burdened by adulthood. Cozy games are one way we can inject a little bit of low-stakes fun into everyday life, get into a flow of zoning out from our real responsibilities, and feel a sense of silly accomplishment. As soon as I publish this, I’m off to make flower planters and hang string lights in my Pokemon beach town and oh wait Snorlax might be hungry again too and what dream islands haven’t I explored yet for recipes????