WTF: “Animal Crossing: New Horizons” will be remembered as the cure for pandemic blues

(Courtesy of Creative Commons)

(Courtesy of Creative Commons)

I’ve noticed a fun pandemic trend: sometimes, you fall asleep and forget that reality is a nightmare. The flipside is when, approximately eight hours later, you wake up, check your phone and realize “oh wait, reality is, in fact, a nightmare.” The pendulum always swings back.

Endless lists of distressing Canvas notifications and even more distressing news updates constantly remind us of the fresh hell we find ourselves in, trapped alone and indoors by the fearsome COVID-19 virus that ravages populations worldwide. I sigh, make myself a cup of coffee and steel myself for the day’s seemingly insurmountable to-do list that must somehow get surmounted if I want to graduate in May as planned.

Alone and exhausted, I turn to my trusty Nintendo Switch for some kind of solace after hours of work that feels pointless after receiving an email about the cancelled 2020 commencement ceremony. After a brief boot-up sequence I’m greeted by the restorative faces of the fuzzy business raccoon Tom Nook and his clerical assistant, an adorable, bright yellow Shih Tzu named Isabelle. I’m no longer in a reality devastated by disease; I’m on a delightful island getaway called Eolian—named for a setting in my favorite book—that is home to a village of anthropomorphic animals all with the same goal: to survive, thrive and relax in this paradise we all call home.

Rarely in pop-culture does the perfect piece of entertainment media get released for the exact moment people need it most, and when it does happen that piece of media certainly isn’t a video game. Yet as collective humanity stares down the barrel of a world-altering pandemic with no end in sight, we were gifted with what will one day be considered one of most important video games ever. “Animal Crossing: New Horizons,” WTF?

There is no novel coronavirus on Eolian, only wasps. Each day, my character Little W.C. wakes up and goes about his daily chores. I check turnip prices in the stalk market, explore the day’s fashions at the tailor’s shop and begin cleaning up weeds around the island. I shake trees to collect fruit that I’ll sell for bells—the game’s invented currency—and catch bugs and fish to add to the museum’s collection. If a day is particularly profitable, I can pay off the perpetual housing loans owed to Tom Nook for his generous home construction endeavors. Life is good.

“Animal Crossing” may not be as fast and exciting as video game staples like “Call of Duty,” “Grand Theft Auto” or even other Nintendo properties like “Mario Odyssey,” but that’s the point. The game is a calming facsimile of everything we can’t do right now; namely, the game simulates going outside.

Little W.C. is able to take a stroll and enjoy the butterflies fluttering about. When his friend Pietro—a darling sheep that resembles a clown and lovingly ends every sentence with “honk honk!”—happens to walk by, Little W.C. doesn’t need to stay six feet away. The pair can chat to their heart’s content.

What the game provides more than anything else is a sense of control, something desperately lacking amidst the real-life horrors of 2020. Players get to choose who settles on their island and they decorate their house room by room. Later in the game, after a visit from famed musician K.K. Slider, players unlock the ability to terraform and design every facet of the island down to each riverbed and cliffside. These days my stray thoughts tend to wander toward potential island features and design ideas rather than COVID-related unpleasantness.

“Animal Crossing” is tied to the real-world clock, so when it’s 5:30 p.m. on April 25 in Geneseo, it’s also 5:30 p.m. on April 25 on Eolian. The real-time mechanics mean the game can be a slow grind, but the lackadaisical approach to gameplay encourages players to quite literally stop and smell the roses. I’ll often catch myself staring at the in-game night sky when I can’t sleep, or sitting on a bench by the pier just to watch the waves roll in. The game showcases classic Nintendo art styling which means the colors are bright and the characters are adorable; you don’t get bells for taking it in, but the beautiful scenery is its own reward.

On particularly lonely real-life days, I’ll get in the mood to have some friends over. “Animal Crossing” promotes interconnectivity by encouraging players to check with their friends’ islands for better turnip prices, fashion options and nonnative fruits to plant. Visiting friends is as easy as hopping onto the local seaplane—ironically piloted by dodo birds—and taking off to see other people’s vision for their not-so-deserted-anymore islands.

Wednesday April 22 was one of those days that had me feeling lonely. Geneseo’s college-wide symposium, GREAT Day, was forced online this year, and I was missing the opportunity to see my friends, celebrate the school’s hard work and to take advantage of the day’s lack of classes. So, I invited a crew of people to Eolian so we could have our own sort of celebration.

 Guests were told to wear their favorite formal wear and they trickled through my airport one by one. The party was an odd conglomeration of family members, friends from both high school and college and some of my friend’s family members who wanted to get in on the fun. The dapper lads and ladies ran all around Eolian, whacking each other with nets and taking in the sights my humble island has to offer.

Seeing these goofy animal crossing villagers running around, emoting and simply being together helped dispel the funk I was in, and for a brief, beautiful moment I forgot what it was like to be confined indoors preventing the spread of a deadly virus. We commemorated the party with a picture in the town square; the symbol of everything Little W.C., Tom Nook and all the other villagers have built together.

 This morning I read some news that reminded me how horrible everything is, but then I picked up my Switch, turned on “Animal Crossing: New Horizons” and saw that one of my pals sent me a writing desk because it made them think of me. I placed it in my house before walking outside to chat up Pietro and look for an equally thoughtful gift to send back. Sadly, I couldn’t find anything, but I still made sure to send back a thank you note just to let my friend know they’re on my mind.