The Sims 2

It's here again. We say again, not for the second time, but the eighth. Seven shoddy, cash-in expansions scuttled up the top 20 charts in the slipstream of The Sims like so many love starved cockroaches pursuing a… Sorry, that's a bit negative. Unjustly negative in fact, because although not one of those many follow ups won our hearts, the sequel truly does, and it's finally here.

As the follow-up to the only game even girls played, presentation is everything. The box, the music, even the install program leaks happiness from every childish toothy gap. There's actually a colourful memory game and Sims-based quiz to click at during the four disc feeding. Once installed, you select one of three neighbourhoods to start in, create a family and begin your manically average digital existence against a backdrop of an oppressively happy fantasy world.

Meet the Sims

But who's there across the street at number 27? It's John Pertch! An overweight, balding, glasses wearing father: he wants money, good grades for his daughter, and a comfortable chair to laze in after work. Young Hilary Pertch has other ideas. She's a hopeless romantic, and spends most of her free time painting in her room amongst posters of her favourite death metal bands. Behind the façade of an outgoing young woman, she's actually scared of rejection from her father, from boys, and the house catching fire. All of this is conveyed through soft edged sub menus and straightforward icons with sensible intuition.

You see, the fundamental innovation in The Sims 2 is the 'aspirations' element. Before, you'd strive to raise character's stats for no other reason than riches, achievable only through success at work. This effectively made your sims rather similar in the long term. Now addressed, the sequel has four selectable character aspirations: family, wealth, romance and knowledge, each of which dictate specific short-term wants and fears. Funnily enough, on paper it's more or less the only major technical difference the game offers over its predecessor.

Keeping up appearances

That is, aside from what Maxis have done graphically. What was great about The Sims was the closeness to real life, how human your creations looked. In its natural progression, everything now looks wonderful. Animation is faultless, and a joy to behold; from subtle greetings as family members brush shoulders on the stairs, to theatrical eroticisms and pool-bound swallow dives. What's even better is the character customisation that's operated entirely by sliders. No more embarrassing situations with neighbours who share your head – the individuality is a hundred times what it was, and it all contributes to the feeling that it truly is your doll's house.

Objects too, are lovingly crafted, complete with witty explanations and multiple texture sets, allowing you to scheme rooms or houses to a specific colour. This may just be a cover up, however as in some categories there are actually less items than in the original. Even so, there's enough variety to see you through obvious financial stages. Flimsy marble-effect foldout tables as the kitchen centre piece for the first few days after the move, until Dad gets his first pay check. May want to lay down some carpet for Hilary's bedroom too. And so on.

Sands of time

Perhaps the only other important new feature is the handling of time. With horror, we realised that teenage Hilary was due to become an adult in six hours. At first we tried to hold on, scared of the future, wondering where the time went... Brian Pertch would be soon approaching his autumn years; it was time to think about finding someone to grow old with. It wouldn't be too long before Hilary needed to get married, think about children even. In a further effort to coax players into a more focused experience, The Sims 2 makes your digital children's lives rather prompt. You're forced to consider tactically your chances with a potential boyfriend who may be better, over a current, less interesting one. Essentially, it's another layer of realism that ends up woven into the countless anecdotes you'll be relating to your friends for weeks after playing. Like the time your nine-year-old daughter brings home a friend from school who happens to be your first son, taken away by social services weeks before.

Much as The Sims was four years ago, Maxis' life simulator is quite dangerously addictive. We almost found ourselves unable to detach for the first 48 hours of play. But strangely, unable to pick it up again after that time. What was it that made the game so short lived?

Mortal Coil

As situations repeat themselves, you see all the animations, use all the items and send your Sims to the shower for the billionth time, the tedium of real life that The Sims 2 does capture a sense of, inevitably, begins to wear. While the realism is partly the beauty of it, perhaps it's the lack of realism in other areas that drag it down. Why can't I have a family without a parent figure? Why can't teenagers fall in love with adults? While characters are more complex, for a game that's based around social interaction they're still quite limited. There's no element of embarrassment, or protection, or even possession, for example. It takes some imagination to justify why a creaking OAP retires to his grand daughter's pink drenched bedroom over his own, just because it’s nearer to the stairs.

Perhaps also, it’s the lack of freedom. Although the original's expansions opened up a wealth of locations to take your pride and joys, there're perhaps only two or three in the entire sequel.

That said, the true beauty of The Sims only becomes apparent after playing. Turn your pc off, and venture downstairs to where your wife is hosting an extended family gathering. It all feels reassuringly familiar: someone tries to initiate a 'conversation' with you. If your impression of them improves, they may try a 'joke'. Someone's 'ordered a pizza'; it's there on the table. You watch in deep understanding as a great aunt performs a 'pick up' animation and retrieves a slice. Maxis have simplified western civilisation's middle class existence right to its haughty bones. Your worst nightmares, seemingly gargantuan terrors of life and death – merely today's coloured 'fear' icon. For a game to illustrate something so human with such simplicity and cinematic grace has to be something new. 'Finish review', 'make a snack'.

Sam Goldwater