A Lizard to the Past: Lil Gator Game Review

When I was in middle school, I would regularly recruit friends along with my army of siblings to play elaborate games of Resident Evil around my house. Not in the basic style of cops and robbers (though I guess this would be zombies and S.T.A.R.S.) but an adventure that mirrored its source material. I would design full campaigns with maps, items, puzzles, ammo counts, and (attempted) jump scares as I threw my shambling body out of closets and around blind corners. Players would escape Raccoon City’s fiery fate–if they could meticulously follow directions. Most of the time we ended up soft locked somewhere between the diamond and club keys. 

Lil Gator Game recreates that experience of adapting a digital game, to a real life adventure, and then back into a digital game–but replace Resident Evil with The Legend of Zelda. It’s bite-sized Breath of the Wild (if you’re playing a drinking game based on how often I make that comparison, I’ll do my best to flex my writing muscles so you don’t die of alcohol poisoning by the end of this essay). It’s a scheme to convince your big sister, who is home on fall vacation, to take a break from her studies and join in. This game within the game is being played in the imaginations of the critters scattered across the island. As an outsider, the one actually holding the controller, we have a more objective point of view. We see the enemies are cardboard cutouts (which can be recycled into cosmetics and gear)--we see the gradual transformation of the central playground into a castle town worthy of ignoring a group project for a few hours (your sister is probably doing all the work, anyway). There are no Power Stars or Triforce Pieces to collect. Your primary currency on the island is friends. I’m happy to report that these participants are more willing to drop what they’re doing and contribute than the individuals I was working with over twenty years ago. 

So much personality and care has been put into the animations of these characters. Walk cycles are rare–scampering, toddling, and ninja running is more common. Our protagonist panics and flails as he loses his grip climbing cliff sides (the stamina wheel is pulled straight from Breath of the Wild, but there’s no precipitation or fall damage to rain on your parade). Swimming is refreshingly fast–you play as an alligator, after all. I was worried during the tutorial because the initial melee attacks felt like swinging a stick (your beginner sword is a literal stick); but my concerns were soon forgotten after I upgraded to a weapon more befitting of a hero (which also upgraded my limp slices to a three hit combo). It’s worth mentioning that, while you have an attack, there’s no traditional combat. The flat rate shipping and masking tape abominations don’t put up much of a fight. 

The writing is excellent. It’s cute but not too cute–it’s smart but doesn’t drag. While the topics explored are deeper than you might expect in a title with talking animals and a palette of pastels, nothing presented here is so complicated (or too mature) that younger gamers won’t get a sense of what’s happening even if they aren’t able to read every layer of subtext. Most quests are simple and can be completed in under five minutes (some only last a single conversation). I won’t spoil any by providing extra context, but my favorites involve battling an alien mothership while another references a franchise famous for picking apart contradictions. The ending is perfect and actually feels earned. It made me choke up. 

My only minor complaint, for as approachable as the overall package is, it’s strangely lacking in quality of life features. I respect that the designers at MegaWobble are trying to evoke a simpler time before games became a sprint between markers on a map (Lil Gator Game doesn’t even include a map) but a little more clutter in your spiral bound notebook menus could have gone a long way. At least you’re gifted with a pair of useful gadgets for post game clean up (for this reason, I highly recommend beating it before chasing 100%). None of this impacted my playthrough negatively, Lil Gator Game would not be a better experience with the inclusion of fast travel, but it still would have been nice to have a means of keeping track of how many pieces of trash I needed to satisfy the raccoon shopkeeper. 

The soundtrack is competent, but my god, I wish there was more of it. I believe the triggers for the different songs are region specific (this track plays when you’re in the area with autumn leaves, this track plays when you’re exploring the peaks). To their credit, the handful of songs do evolve over time. They’re upbeat and quirky if you’re running through an area on the way to turn in a quest. If you’re circling the same thicket of bushes looking for something you missed, it’s a different story. 

I hit credits in three casual sittings and dipped back in for one more to finish exploring and craft everything I could get my reptilian claws on. Lil Gator Game doesn’t overstay its welcome and is as charming in the first few minutes as it is in the final hour. As meta as this sounds, it’s the perfect thing to play with your children or a younger sibling. Even if it’s technically a solo journey, games are meant to be played together. Sometimes the simple joys in life come from simple places.