I was genuinely surprised by how Heartopia crept up on me. I try to keep my eye on all the cutest life-sims, but I was pretty unaware of this one—probably because my attention was on Petit Planet and Floatopia. But with a lot of these kinds of games, I’m always a little skeptical. To a certain degree, they always feel like the equivalent of, “We have Animal Crossing at home.”
Heartopia is a bit of a mixed bag. It’s got some interesting ideas due in large part to the secondary genre it’s attempting to partake in—that of an MMO. However, it’s those same design decisions that somewhat hold it back and suck out a lot of the authenticity that’s meant to come from its cozy sim vibes.
The “story” of Heartopia is simple—you play as a character chosen by the stars to come to an idyllic town and help it grow. You’re given a house, introduced to the locals and encouraged to take every day at your own pace. That’s really all there is to it, but what’s so strange to me is how you can see the clash between the game’s two genres.
It’s got that MMO story problem where characters are constantly telling you how you’re the most amazing person to ever step foot inside the village, and how only you can solve every problem. At the same time, you’re seeing other players running around, completing the same quests you just did.
That isn’t to say there aren’t cozy games that set the player as the catalyst of change, but it usually works better in a solo experience, where they can find it on their own. It’s hard to feel like I’m particularly special when there are 15 other people running around being told the same thing.
And I think the gameplay suffers a little bit from the MMO design as well. While it has the same basic mechanics as Animal Crossing—home decoration, fishing, bug catching, etc—because it’s structured like an MMO, none of these things are readily available. Instead, they need to be accessed by talking to NPCs and going on monotonous fetch quests or gathering enough of a thing before the player can just partake in them at their leisure.
I will say, though, Heartopia does have an interesting idea in making this kind of game like an MMO, primarily because it could, theoretically, allow players to live in a little world with each other and let them form little friendships and neighbourhoods. However, the game fumbles this idea completely.
When I started playing, I noticed I already had another player in the town living beside my house. I went over and sent them a friend request, thinking, “Okay, so we’re all going to be on this ‘server,’ and it’ll be like our little community.” However, after a few hours of running around and completing quests, when I returned to my house, I noticed hers was gone, and only an empty lot remained.
When I logged on for the second time, I was kind of confused to find my house was in a completely different location than where it was initially, but that’s when I realized what the game was doing. Every time you log on, it spawns you with different people in a different version of the same town. And it was so upsetting, because it completely guts that sense of familiarity that is meant to come with a cozy game—especially one trying to emulate Animal Crossing.
It just makes the game feel so disposable. How am I meant to feel like I’m a part of this town—without every NPC telling me how crucial I am to its infrastructure—if every time I log on, my house isn’t where it should be, and none of my friends/neighbours are living with me? Sure, the NPCs stay where they’re supposed to, but none of them are even an eighth as interesting as Kid Kat or Penny, so why should I care?
And nothing about Heartopia is particularly interesting either. Characters are fairly uninspired humans who aren’t exactly ordinary, but aren’t particularly unique either. Despite being on the PC, the UI is still laid out like a mobile game, so there are big buttons all over the place. The game lacks polish, with animations clipping through objects and weather effects like snow appearing indoors.
And because it’s “free-to-play,” Heartopia is crammed with microtransactions and “limited time events.” When starting the game, I was introduced to almost five different kinds of currency that are all meant for different things—gold can buy common items, Wishing Stars are needed for social functions like adding friends, but also can be spent on limited-time items. Contribution Medals are needed to upgrade your Developer’s Guild rank, which unlocks A LOT of features that would just be common in a game like this, and I’m sure there are others I’m forgetting because there are SO MANY.
Then there’s the “premium” currency, which there is an overabundance of. Pink Gacha coins can be earned from daily quests, are used for a gacha machine that gives special items, but you need Moonlight Crystals to buy the Pink Gacha Coins. But if you don’t have any, you can spend real-world money on Heart Diamonds to purchase more Moonlight Crystals.
“And because it’s ‘free-to-play,’ Heartopia is crammed with microtransactions and ‘limited time events.'”
Exhibition Passes are used for loot-box style limited-time items, and of course, if you run out of those, you can always get more with Heart Diamonds. It works to create a confusopoly where players aren’t really sure which currencies do what and eventually just shell out on the Heart Diamonds, because they can basically be used for all the “special items.”
It’s just a shame because there are some things I do like about Heartopia. The home building is pretty expensive and genuinely flexible. I like that you get a little scooter to drive around on, and some of the hobbies like Birdwatching and Pet Care add a unique layer of gameplay that isn’t really utilized in other games of this type.
I even like the concept of an MMO-style Animal Crossing, because chatting with strangers, making friends and joining Guilds in games like World of Warcraft was a big part of what made those games so fun. But Heartopia took the gameplay of an MMORPG and applied it to a cozy sim when it should’ve only taken the social elements.
Heartopia isn’t the worst cozy game I’ve played, but it’s definitely the most monotonous—and maybe the most forgettable. I’m sure fans of the genre will find something to enjoy here, but for people who really DO have Animal Crossing at home, there’s not a lot of reason to play this.
