Lil’ Gator game is about the power of a child’s imagination and the struggle we must fight to hold onto it as we grow up. It’s also a game about running around an adorable island, beating cardboard monsters with sticks and lightsabers, and seeing how many friends you can make as you explore. Oh, and it’s frankly said at the outset that its characters are playing this imaginary open-world RPG because they can’t wait for the next one zelda game come out. No matter how you approach it, it’s really beautiful.
Things start 100 million years in the past (according to Lil’ Gator, at least) when he and his big sister (known in-game as Big Sis) are on a small island playing a game to gether. The game features Big Sis creating quests for her little brother and covering the area with cardboard monsters to beat them up and the two have a fantastic time. Consider this your tutorial. We then jump to 100 million years later, when Lil’ Gator (whom you can name, and of course I chose “Link” but we’ll call him Lil for this article) is a bit older, but Big Sis is now in college. She’s home for fall break, they’re back on the island, and Lil assumes everything will be the way it’s always been.
How Lil’ Gator game brings childhood fantasy to life
It is not. Sister has a group assignment to complete and her remote college group can’t keep up. She’s dating Lil, but she’s at her laptop and he can’t get her to play. So the little alligator hatches a plan with three friends: If he and his buddies succeed in reproducing their old game in a vivid and amazing way, Sis won’t be able to hold back! So they set to work convincing dozens of kids to get involved, painting cardboard to look like monsters, and renovating the island’s sprawling playground to become ornate castles, cafes, and cathedrals.
Your role in all of this is to both smash every piece of cardboard on the island and recruit as many new friends as possible by completing “quests” for them. These quests are often forced by confused kids or just imagined in Lil’s mind, but generally it’s about helping people in some way that makes them want to join the others on the playground. It can be to find a lost item, win a race or save them from cardboard enemies.
All the cardboard you destroy becomes torn paper in your collection and serves as crazy currency among the kids. (Occasionally, when you run into an adult, this leads to an amusing exchange when that economy collapses.) You can also recycle it into all manner of hats, weapons, shields/sleds, and even ranged weapons (origami throwing stars!). The game also involves a lot of climbing, and that requires breath of the wild-style stamina, which is boosted by purchasing “magic” bracelets. The more you carry, the higher you can climb. And once you have an oversized t-shirt in your collection, you can skydive too, zelda-as below from any height.
The game simply boils down to exploring the large island space, attacking completely defenseless cardboard and befriending the animal children. But in doing these things, it captures the essence of a zelda Play as if it had been recreated by children in the playground. While the game exaggerates what kids are really capable of, with inside jokes about the lack of fall damage and whatnot (but then they talk about alligators, sharks, bears and dogs, well, you know), it’s grounded by our viewing of reality continuous. The cardboard slimes and ghouls don’t come to life and don’t fight – they just get propped up and fall apart when hit with a pink plastic stick. They play and we see them play.
Why Lil’ Gator game fights for your imagination
If I could share one message in my lifetime, it would be: Hold onto your childhood fantasy with both hands. I’m so pleased this game exists to desperately strive for. Being an adult has its perks, but being “adult” seems like a terrible idea to me. “Mature” implies a notion that one is done, task accomplished, not who one used to be, which strikes me as idiotic. Our childhood imaginations are something absolutely magical, beyond the confines of the physics we eventually teach ourselves. as children, we can know at the same time that a teddy bear is an inanimate stuffed animal And believe that it is a living, moving creature with its own life essence. It’s an ability we so often dismiss as delusional, and not something we should covet: both knowing the hard truth and imbuing the world with magic.
Lil’ Gator game is situated in this dichotomy and examines it from several angles. The main group of Lil’s friends are all in various stages of shedding the fantastic, the eldest making a performative attempt to ‘grow up’ in his reactions to the imaginary while Lil is ever so fully immersed in it. He is left behind, the last to mature, and I would dare, with a sure ADHD diagnosis awaiting him. Meanwhile, on the other side of that change, his big sister, an older teenager, is in college and being bombarded with real, real responsibilities. She is both frustrated and in love with her, the enticing prospect of being an adult confronted with the joyous pull of being a child.
Let’s be clear – you don’t have to think about any of this while playing. But amidst the adorably sweet writing, it’s all there and explored in such a beautiful way. I’m not offering any spoilers at all, so can’t say how or why, but I was really moved by moments towards the end that I wasn’t expecting. Not since The longest journey has a game that spoke so passionately about the importance of imagination.
I want to celebrate that separately Lil’ Gator game is one of the infinitesimal few examples of a game in which an older sibling is portrayed in a friendly manner And behaves kindly. It’s hard for me to think of another authority behind it Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons in which the role of the older sibling is not automatically a bully or the disinterested and distant character it needs to be taught a valuable lesson. It’s such a delight that throughout the game Big Sis is always kind to Lil, never cruel and not even dismissive.
This is a tremendously beautiful game, albeit a simple one. The huge island is lovingly designed, and there are dozens of characters to chat with, a huge number of short quests and tasks, and rewards for exploring the farthest reaches. Once you’ve rolled credits, you can continue playing the game at 100%, with its own delightful ending to accompany that too. I’d say there’s about six hours here unless you were stupid enough to rush through it at its most basic level.
Beyond that, however, it possesses a warmth that makes it a pleasure to spend time with. Its ending is far smarter than I expected (and I expected good things!) and it just feels good and safe and comforting to play. I imagine those who are a little less obsessed with ADHD than I am might find Lil a little emotionally draining, but to me, he’s my demon. An alligator – who would have thought?