The Sims 4: Tiny Living Review PC

The Sims 4 is a big game. But like any so-called life simulator, it only seems that way when you add up its countless tiny bits and pieces into one giant mosaic. Actually playing the game feels like you’re both telling and watching a series of private, intimate stores. Let me start with one of those stories, about a man named Fred Bob. Fred woke up early one morning this week. He got out of bed without disturbing Autumn, and started to make her a special breakfast. Everything was peaceful, except for the toilet, which was gushing water all over the bathroom floor. Fred didn’t notice at first, lost as he was in trying to make his wife the best damn pancakes that a few weeks of cooking and a spare chapter in a culinary manual could help him conjure.

Autumn really had to pee, so she woke up shortly after Fred and started waddling towards the bathroom, gritting her teeth and locking her knees together. Fred is the more mechanically-minded of the two, so once Autumn arose and started groaning, he rushed to start fixing the plumbing. Ok, technically I did that part — switching characters from Autumn to Fred and ordering him to start doing his handyman duties. Once Autumn got to the bathroom, she wasn’t happy to see Fred hunched over the toilet, laboring as he was.

They exchanged a few curt words, and tiny red characters popped up over their heads. This meant that both of them had upset the other, to the point where the game was dinging points off their relationship ratings. After a moment, Autumn had had enough. Still fit to burst, she inched over to the kitchen and grabbed some yogurt from the fridge, eating it in a few hurried spoonfuls while standing over the counter. Leaving her dirty bowl there, she dashed back to the bathroom the moment Fred stepped out.

He returned to the kitchen, planning to resume his recipe. But there was an empty bowl, just sitting there on the counter, like a giant red stop sign. Fred glanced around the room, looking lost, raising his arms in confusion. So much for a romantic breakfast.

Looking at herself in the mirror while she was washing her hands, Autumn suddenly had a change of heart. I wonder if she thought: What are we doing, fighting like this? Sure, Fred might be an aspiring comedian who never manages to button his shirt and insists on dying his beard bright pink. And yes, maybe we got married without a wedding, just minutes after he proposed to me one night sitting on a couch in a museum. But so what? We’re young and in love.

Or maybe, once she’d emptied her bladder, she just realised that she was feeling feisty. Either way, she strode out of the bathroom cheerfully, catching Fred on his way out of the kitchen. She smiled. Kissed his hand. Before long, the two of them were back in bed.

And then The Sims 4 froze.

I sat there, staring at the two lovebirds I’d just helped move past a minor quarrel, seeing the little “z’s” hover above their heads in suspended animation. I guess it’s time to try again, I sighed. One reboot later, and I was back at the beginning of this scene — Fred once again on the edge of his bed, waiting for me to press “play” on the game’s menu so he could start his day anew.

I was annoyed. I’d already lost several hours’ worth of time building and decorating their house over the weekend when my PC ran into a similar hiccup, so I knew the sting of lost Sims time all too well. But it also occurred to me that this was an interesting opportunity to essentially restart a “level” in The Sims 4. Plenty of other games let you do that. The Sims doesn’t — at least to the same extent. You can create distinct save files, of course. But it’s very hard to reach a clear “game over” state. The Sims and all its characters just keep moving forward in time, regardless of the choices you make. Earlier generations of Sims grow old and die, giving way to new Sims in turn. Any mistakes you feel you’ve made either have to be edited out or built upon. However minor it was, I had a rare chance to try one specific scene again.

My second attempt for a peaceful morning went over much better now that I knew what was coming. I immediately put Fred to work fixing the toilet. Once again, Autumn woke up shortly afterwards. Once again, she waddled over to the bathroom. But this time, instead of snapping at Fred, she simply walked into the kitchen and started making a salad. I was still controlling Fred at that point, mind you, I had nothing to do with Autumn’s salad decision. Fred finished fixing the toilet a moment later, and once again she was finally able to pee. While Autumn did her business, Fred stood a few feet from her, staring aimlessly at the mirror. I’m not sure why.

Still no special breakfast. But this time, both of them left the bathroom feeling extra flirty. They walked into the kitchen together, presumably to finish cooking. Once they’d struck up a conversation, however, neither of them seemed to be able to focus on anything but each other. I played along. You already know what happens next.

I know these are just two video game characters, I scribbled in my notebook. But I still feel giddy just seeing how happy they are together. How can you not???

This reset wasn’t supposed to happen. In my and The Sims 4 publisher EA’s ideal world, it probably wouldn’t have. Games are supposed to run smoothly. Mornings with my Sims are supposed to go off without a hitch — at least a technical one. I’m glad it did, though, because it helped me realise what I love about The Sims 4.

Every time I start and restart a level in a video game, I always do things slightly differently. The end result, however, is usually the same: no matter how I make it through a dungeon, I still end up killing bad guys, getting the key to the big door, acquiring some special sword or piece of armour. Things are similar in The Sims 4, but they’re also very different.

For starters, there are all the other ways that I could have let that morning between Fred and Autumn play out. With my blessing or bidding, Fred could have lashed right back at Autumn when she started to chide him. Or he could have just gotten up and left the toilet half-fixed and gone for a jog. Hell, I could’ve never even prodded Fred to pursue his boo so passionately. If I was feeling particularly vindictive, I could have switched over to the game’s “build mode” and removed one of the doors in their house, trapping Autumn and leaving her there to squirm. Or — and this is the one thing I regret not doing — I could have just pressed “play” and sat there, giving no commands, and seeing how the predicament resolved itself.

The Sims 4: The Kotaku Review There are many different ways to play The Sims. Some people like to create elaborate virtual dollhouses — the more ornate, the better. Others like to introduce their own challenges, seeing how fast they can produce 100 babies or abide by a set of “self-imposed rules.” Yet another group just likes to wreck havoc and watch gleefully as the denizens of their world react in horror and anguish.

How do I like to play The Sims? I’m far too scatter-brained for the dollhouse method, and too weirdly sensitive to torture my Sims. I guess I just like to be, I don’t know…nice? I approach the game with a mindset that’s half-parent, half zookeeper. I like to create things. But what I really love is watching them grow.

You begin The Sims 4 with a lump of clay and a broad directive: create a Sim. It’s easy to lose yourself for hours at this first step, because the game’s character creation system is phenomenally detailed. Thankfully, the aesthetic is cartoonish enough to keep its character creator from sliding too far into uncanny valley levels of creepy almost-realism. But despite their resemblance to stock Pixar characters, the visual fidelity of The Sims 4 is so striking that I wonder if it will end up hurting the game in some ways. It’s very easy for me to create Mii versions of friends, family, and famous people in Nintendo’s sim game Tomodachi Life, in comparison, because all the characters in that 3DS game look and sound so ridiculous already. There’s a commonly understood suspension of disbelief. The characters in The Sims 4 are quirky as well, but they feel like something more than just cartoons. Every time I’ve tried to create a Sim version of myself, for instance, I’ve stopped short upon realising I could easily spend the rest of my day (read: weekend), mouse in one hand and mirror in the other, slowly inching his eyebrows up and down.

At a certain point, you just have to let go. Once you manage to let your Sim stand on his or her own two legs, things become far more challenging — and far more interesting. Sims in their figurative infancy act the same way humans do: they have impulses and desires, but they also can’t seem to figure out how to feed and bathe themselves. Even the ones who start out as adults don’t grasp their own physical limitations, leading to plenty of silly moments where, say, someone drops to floor in a fit of exhaustion:

The Sims 4: The Kotaku Review You teach them by bossing them around, and they gradually learn. Impulses and desires give way to hopes and dreams, ultimately crystallizing into the realities of life: jobs, houses, spouses, hobbies. Slowly you peel back the layers of their character, and more of the game’s world reveals itself to you in turn.

At least, that’s how it worked with Fred. Once I’d settled on his features and assigned him a personality, the real work began. I set him up in a dingy apartment, and got him a job. He made almost no money as an aspiring comic cutting his teeth on the standup circuit, hence the dinginess. I spent a lot of time putting out fires — both literally and figuratively. If one of his appliances started leaking or shooting off sparks, I couldn’t afford a new one for him, so I had to tell Fred to toughen up and fix it himself. When he started to get bored and lonely, I took him out to the gym or the bar. That’s where he met Autumn one night.

The drama of Fred’s life probably sounds dull, even to my fellow Sims players. It is boring to everybody but me, which is part of the game’s special charm. But just describing the steps Fred has taken so far in his first few days on this Earth doesn’t capture how much of a feat it was to get him to where he is today. In addition to the new and improved character creator, EA made two changes in The Sims 4 that have a dramatic impact on what playing this game actually feels like: emotions and multitasking.

Emotions are just that: the things your Sims are feeling at any given moment. Multitasking means that your Sims can now do a few different things at the same time — watch TV or talk to someone while running on a treadmill, quit their job while taking a dump, there are many different combinations. Since performing specific actions usually has a direct impact on a Sim’s mood, managing these two new features is a surprisingly challenging balancing act. Oftentimes, for instance, I find myself in a situation where one Sim only has an hour or two before they’re supposed to start work and are feeling tired, hungry, uncomfortable, bored, lonely — what have you — at the same time. Nobody wants to send their Sim off to work exhausted, smelly, and on an empty stomach. Do I tell the Sim to nap? That doesn’t leave much time to eat. I guess I can have a Sim go to the bathroom while simultaneously reading a book or using their phone, which can kill a few birds with one stone.

The real impact this has had on my Sims 4 game is that it feels much more…game-like, for lack of a better word. There’s always something to keep track of, always a new prompt above Fred’s head inviting me to, say, have him write a book if he’s feeling inspired. Or go crawl into a little ball in his room and mope if he’s feeling embarrassed after his book gets rejected from every major publisher. Or, or — better yet, go practice his writing skill, so he doesn’t get quite so embarrassed next time. This has made many of the mundane aspects of The Sims far more engaging. It’s also made me stumble into some serious time sinks.

I’ve played The Sims 4 for more than 40 hours since last Monday. I’m honestly not sure how I spent that much time playing this game, because I haven’t made much in the way of “progress.” There are many nooks and crannies of the game’s two neighborhoods I’ve discovered in that time. But as my Sims advance in their careers and start having families, I’ve also begun to feel as if The Sims 4 is pulling me ever inward — drawing me back to the two houses I’ve built to attend to one thing or another that just seems to need doing. There’s still a vast world outside of these homes, which I can shuffle around or rebuild in the exact same ways I’ve added to Fred’s dingy apartment. Maybe if dealing with Fred and Autumn’s toilet fights starts to feel dull after another 40 hours, I’ll start to explore a bit more. But if The Sims 4 demands one thing from its players, it’s that you play it at your own pace.

My pace? I guess I like to admire the scenery. Characters like Fred and Autumn obviously have a special place in my heart. But I’ve often caught myself getting lost in many of the game’s other quiet moments. Sometimes, it’s incredibly soothing to watch this little world unfold before you.

The Sims 4: The Kotaku Review The Sims 4: The Kotaku Review The Sims 4: The Kotaku Review You start with a lump of clay. You shape it. Then it begins to shape itself. Eventually, these Sims come into their own. To a degree, of course — otherwise you wouldn’t have much to do in The Sims 4 after a few hours. But there’s an ongoing tension between what you, as a player, want your Sims to be, and what they naturally are. The Sims 4 succeeds because it never fully resolves that dilemma. That’s what amazed me about the toilet kerfuffle.

See, I helped jump-start Fred and Autumn’s relationship. But what their spat made me realise is: it’s still their relationship. Autumn isn’t even a Sim I created, after all — she’s just one of the stock characters that’s dropped into the town at the outset of the game. The Autumn I met early in the game is a very different person than the one I know now, though. She has longer hair, wears big glasses, and loves to pick fights with people when she’s not at work as a criminal mastermind. When I think about it: Fred is different, too. They have both come into their own, to the point where it doesn’t matter if I mess up fixing their toilet or forget to cook breakfast. They will still go about their lives regardless. If I really wanted to, I probably could have torn the two of them apart that morning — or whenever, really. But doing so would have taken a lot of time and energy clicking through the game’s dialogue wheels to essentially force the two of them to antagonize one another.

Over time, if I stopped nudging them along, things might fall apart on their own. But why would I? Seeing that my Sims are happy makes me, well, happy. Everybody wins…right?