Console Corner: Review of Frostpunk

If there is anything about video games I like (besides the ability to relax and escape from reality for an hour or two), it is experiencing something fresh and new. Since getting an 8-bit Nintendo decades ago, I have sought out variety, from thinky puzzlers to hack-n-slash, rpgs to first-person shooters, and everything else on the video game spectrum, even sports. Until recently, however, there was one type of game I had never tried: strategy/civilization building games. The internets concluded Frostpunk (2018) is one of the best of this type, so I decided to have a go.

Frostpunk is a single-player civ building game where players are tasked with keeping a group of people alive by building the necessary infrastructure. Title appropriate, the setting is a freezing, post-apocalyptic winter, and the technology which evolves over the course of the game is steampunk-ish in nature—a mix of old tech (shovels, wheelbarrows, and wooden buildings) mixed with imaginative tech (automatons, drills, blimps, and the like). Gameplay is organized along a set of ever-expanding goals while the days tick by. “Winning” the game amounts to achieving said goals while keeping your population alive in freezing conditions—at least mostly.

The core gameplay loop of Frostpunk is managing resources and building infrastructure to ensure your small society has the things it needs to live, evolve, and overcome the obstacles thrown its way—storms, drops in temperature, groups of refugees, internal conflict, etc. Loose storylines arch above this loop—pacify a group of rebels, rescue people stranded, search for supplies, etc.

On top of resource and tech management, Frostpunk also asks players to manage social expectations through the implementation of laws. The laws permanent, choosing a one makes unalterable changes to that playthrough. For example, do you enact a Cemetery Law that means taking the time, people, and resources to build a cemetery and take advantage of the social ritual and meaning it entails? Or, do you dig a quick snow pit for corpses because you don’t have the time or resources for more, knowing that the long term social reaction will result in discontent?

It’s a good time to mention the player’s ability to keep their group of people satisfied is measured by two meters: Hope and Discontent. If Discontent outpaces Hope by too great a margin, the player may as well give up and start again (or revert to a previous save). It’s only a matter of time before all the people die, or you are deposed as leader. If the Hope bar is healthy and Discontent at a minimum, you’re probably doing something right. Keep trying to survive the bitter winter.

Along with real consequences to in-game decisions, there are other positives in Frostpunk. One is that gameplay is not limited to a frozen crater. With recon balloons and scout teams, the broader landscape opens itself up to exploration and discovery. The lore of Frostpunk comes alive as strange things are discovered in the world beyond, not to mention provides bursts of income and much-needed hands for working. Something resembling a narrative emerging in the process, the player feels a part of the scene—not only controlling and guiding the people, but likewise being part of their experiences in the broader landscape. In fact, each person in the game has an identity; you can actually click on them and see their name, status, where they work, etc. This point easily overlooked, it should be repeated that Frostpunk does a great job letting the player be a god in the sky deciding how the society grows and evolves, but also letting the player build a relationship with the people, and their individual needs and interests.

Frostpunk is not easy to jump into. For people unfamiliar with civ building, there are two levels of learning. The first is gaining the civ building mindset. Such games’ goals different than hack-n-slash or puzzle platformers, it takes learning to be able to coordinate the pieces to align towards survival and progression. My society’s level of Discontent outpaced Hope numerous times before I finally understood the dependencies among the pieces—what happens if you build X, what is dependent on X in order to build Y, what is possible to do and not possible to do in certain situations, etc.

The second level of learning is specific to Frostpunk. It is also subjective, and potentially negative for some players. In short, Frostpunk provides players a minimum of a tutorial. The game seems to say: “Here are the truly critical things you need to know, and the rest is for you to discover on your own.” A simple example of this is as follows: the first two objectives of the game are: 1) collect 200 coal, and 2) turn on the generator. My assumption was I needed 200 coal to turn on the generator, so I started collecting and waited, and in the meantime my people started freezing and getting ill. Turns out the generator could be turned on with a minimum of coal, thus forestalling the sick and dying. Nowhere does the game tell you this. It’s to be figured out. Some of you may think that is a simple, stupid example. And it is. But there are many other such situations in the game. Can a Steelworks be built anywhere on the rim, and in any quantity? (Answer, no. But it may take wasting the resources on a Steelworks to figure that out.) Heaters can be researched “for workplaces”, but does that include all places where people work? (Answer, no—to be discovered after investing the resources and time). In sum, Frostpunk largely forces players to sink or swim. Sinking happens a lot, but it is an approach that results in true satisfaction when swimming happens.

In the end, Frostpunk proved to be one of the most addicting games I’ve ever played. It is a game which allowed me the fantasy of being a king, controlling the actions and fates of a population, then learning how difficult it truly is to coordinate people, resources, and infrastructure toward specific goals. Playing was so addicting I literally woke up in the night thinking about the game. “When I play next, I need to first research home heating because I promised the population, then I need to make sure the scout team explores the next location, then I need to—no wait, first build a hunter’s hut because we’re not getting enough food, then assemble the scout team. Then I need to…” Yes, to some degree the game is whack-a-mole, but it’s strategic whack-a-mole that keeps brains like mine turning in highly engaged fashion: how to keep the resource engine running so smoothly and efficiently as to make the whacking of moles leisurely? Is it mentally healthy, I don’t know, but I’m addicted. “Next time I start a new campaign, I will try…” It seems more civ building games are inevitable. Thanks internets!

Side note: The version of Frostpunk I purchased came with three bonus scenarios (unlocked as certain stages of the main campaign “A New Home” are achieved). Considering these scenarios are substantial and significantly enhance the main campaign experience, I will be making a separate post in the future.