Pikmin, as a concept, is largely taken for granted nowadays. While not quite the juggernaut franchise akin to Mario or Zelda, Pikmin ranks respectably amongst Nintendo’s most beloved IPs, carving out a distinct style of gameplay for itself that remains relatively unique within the wider sphere of gaming as a whole. And that’s been true for Pikmin since its inception; few games have so succinctly conveyed their appeals and ethos out the gate as elegantly as the initial Pikmin game. The laid-back, exploration-based approach to resource management and survival-style gameplay is excellently complimented by an affable sci-fi set up and, of course, the adorable yet disposable capabilities of the titular Pikmin themselves. Coming in only three varieties for their debut, the relative simplicity of their power set is in keeping with the game’s straightforward introduction to the world and its objectives. The strengths of each respective Pikmin are self-evident, quickly conveyed to you through very brief tutorial sections evenly spaced across the early sections of the game. The transition of gameplay from the initial instructional area to the game proper is rather seamless, giving you the space to learn the intuitive mechanics before measuring up against the challenge of ensuring your survival within the allotted days.
The arbitrary time limit was a mechanic quickly abolished in the series going forward, recognized by most for the better. But a devoted minority still clamor for its return, and that’s because it was a very functional and appreciated challenge proposed for this initial entry. It only works because of how forgiving it ultimately is. 30 ship parts in 30 days is immensely achievable even if you’re beset by tragic setbacks and totally unproductive sessions. An experienced player can complete the game in less than 10 days if they play optimally enough, and that’s because with proper planning you’re able to obtain multiple ship parts in a single day. This optimizing of time and resource management leads to the greatest senses of accomplishments in Pikmin, as there is no better feeling than splitting your forces and ending the day with multiple parts returned to your ship, further softening that hard time limit the game starts you out against. Similarly, the survival of your Pikmin is a system of optimization and management the game is quite forgiving with, as you can very easily sacrifice large squadrons of Pikmin to powerful enemies but still come out positive at the end of the day if you’re managing to grow as many as you’re losing. This is especially important as combat is where the game is perhaps the least forgiving. There’s no real tutorial for the various encounters you have to deal with, so optimal strategies for preserving the lives of the Pikmin you enlist to defeat enemies is not always apparent. What’s worse is that the Pikmin themselves are dumb as hell, and have zero sense of self preservation around hostile environments and enemies. They’re also inclined to just get stuck against a wall when following you, and thus can easily be left behind at the end of the day due only to their own innate stupidity. The lack of command options over the Pikmin greatly limits just how much you can direct your vast units around and at various obstacles and enemies, but a modicum of leniency is certainly earned for a first stab at a concept like this, particularly considering how successful the presentation is otherwise.
Pikmin’s greatest strength, ultimately, though, is its brevity. Again, that straightforward and succinct premise and execution leads to a smooth gameplay experience that is achievable to complete in a single session. But more likely, you’re bound to break up the experience over the course of several days to a week, as the clean breaks in gameplay between days provide an easy respite that allows you to easily step away for a while, leading to a kind of mirrored experience in playing the game as Olimar is experiencing his survival on a day-by-day basis. This means that the game retains an incredible sense of pacing whether you’re working through each day as quickly as possible, or ambling along at a more protracted pace, which the game more than allows for with its very generous time limit. In many ways, Pikmin is a hard game to talk about, because so much of what works about it is so instinctively evident, it’s hard to put into words. The cozy offerings of a familiar world rendered alien and wondrous simply by shrinking our perspective to that of a garden insect is a tried and true premise. Combine that with real-time strategy and survival game mechanics, as well as a very cohesive art style and creature designs to match the fantastical setting of the game, and you’ve got a winning formula primed and ready for an iterative series to build off of. For as much as the later games added to and refined from the original Pikmin, though, the first game remains a paragon of design, as it never commits to more than the straightforward objective of the game can handle, and executes its mission quickly and satisfactorily in a way that engenders repeat playthroughs. Getting more objectives cleared in a single day while losing as few Pikmin as possible is just appealing enough an incentive to throw yourself at the game again and again, immersing yourself in the world more and more as you get better at optimizing your multitasking and time management to repair your ship as quickly as possible. In this way, the game is self-perpetuating, making its central mechanics the reason to keep playing and replaying it.
The arbitrary time limit was a mechanic quickly abolished in the series going forward, recognized by most for the better. But a devoted minority still clamor for its return, and that’s because it was a very functional and appreciated challenge proposed for this initial entry. It only works because of how forgiving it ultimately is. 30 ship parts in 30 days is immensely achievable even if you’re beset by tragic setbacks and totally unproductive sessions. An experienced player can complete the game in less than 10 days if they play optimally enough, and that’s because with proper planning you’re able to obtain multiple ship parts in a single day. This optimizing of time and resource management leads to the greatest senses of accomplishments in Pikmin, as there is no better feeling than splitting your forces and ending the day with multiple parts returned to your ship, further softening that hard time limit the game starts you out against. Similarly, the survival of your Pikmin is a system of optimization and management the game is quite forgiving with, as you can very easily sacrifice large squadrons of Pikmin to powerful enemies but still come out positive at the end of the day if you’re managing to grow as many as you’re losing. This is especially important as combat is where the game is perhaps the least forgiving. There’s no real tutorial for the various encounters you have to deal with, so optimal strategies for preserving the lives of the Pikmin you enlist to defeat enemies is not always apparent. What’s worse is that the Pikmin themselves are dumb as hell, and have zero sense of self preservation around hostile environments and enemies. They’re also inclined to just get stuck against a wall when following you, and thus can easily be left behind at the end of the day due only to their own innate stupidity. The lack of command options over the Pikmin greatly limits just how much you can direct your vast units around and at various obstacles and enemies, but a modicum of leniency is certainly earned for a first stab at a concept like this, particularly considering how successful the presentation is otherwise.
Pikmin’s greatest strength, ultimately, though, is its brevity. Again, that straightforward and succinct premise and execution leads to a smooth gameplay experience that is achievable to complete in a single session. But more likely, you’re bound to break up the experience over the course of several days to a week, as the clean breaks in gameplay between days provide an easy respite that allows you to easily step away for a while, leading to a kind of mirrored experience in playing the game as Olimar is experiencing his survival on a day-by-day basis. This means that the game retains an incredible sense of pacing whether you’re working through each day as quickly as possible, or ambling along at a more protracted pace, which the game more than allows for with its very generous time limit. In many ways, Pikmin is a hard game to talk about, because so much of what works about it is so instinctively evident, it’s hard to put into words. The cozy offerings of a familiar world rendered alien and wondrous simply by shrinking our perspective to that of a garden insect is a tried and true premise. Combine that with real-time strategy and survival game mechanics, as well as a very cohesive art style and creature designs to match the fantastical setting of the game, and you’ve got a winning formula primed and ready for an iterative series to build off of. For as much as the later games added to and refined from the original Pikmin, though, the first game remains a paragon of design, as it never commits to more than the straightforward objective of the game can handle, and executes its mission quickly and satisfactorily in a way that engenders repeat playthroughs. Getting more objectives cleared in a single day while losing as few Pikmin as possible is just appealing enough an incentive to throw yourself at the game again and again, immersing yourself in the world more and more as you get better at optimizing your multitasking and time management to repair your ship as quickly as possible. In this way, the game is self-perpetuating, making its central mechanics the reason to keep playing and replaying it.