(none of the photos are mine; thanks especially to Kurosawa's (William Hunt's) beautiful photography)
Years ago, before the Great War and the one after that, I met a brilliant young man named Ali Heimlich.
In what passed for a swanky cafe near the bazaar in old Baghdad sat the suave young man sipping his Turkish coffee in front of a small retinue of admirers. As always, Ali had the best table in the joint, back to the wall, under an enormous ceiling fan, looking out at the bazaar and the little coffee shop like he owned it all, while Muza the cafe owner poured him cup after cup. Effortlessly, he spouted dazzling prose while his fans, most of them coy young fashionable women, sat in rapt attendance.
His apparent mixed ancestry was something of a mystery. And it was never clear why, after education in Berlin and London and Paris, he had found his way to this backwater instead of the great salons of the Continent, but no one questioned it. It was as if his very presence made them all - made us all - at least marginally sophisticated for the moment.
Ali told stories, hatched his secret plans, confided his great dreams, all the while sipping that dark, sweet coffee. It was actually tiring to listen to him, tiring in the way that striving to understand brilliance just beyond one's comprehension can be.
Ali wore the finest silks, but if you looked carefully you'd notice that the jacket was threadbare. Still, he was a man to be reckoned with, a man you just knew would turn the world on its head and make it take notice. Sitting there, at a respectful distance, I thought to myself, "one day I'll tell my children that I knew Ali Heimlich, and fairly well at that." Sure, even then it was clear that for all Ali's qualities, he didn't really know who he was, or what he was meant to do. But this was a trifle, we all knew. For with his quick wit and keen mind it was only a matter of time before he settled on something, something big, and the rest would be history.
After a few of these endless afternoons, I unexpectedly had to leave old Baghdad and didn't return for 25 years. The Great War had come and gone, and surprisingly I had never heard of Ali. I made my way back to the old cafe. And to my shock, there was Ali, at the same table, telling the same stories. The admirers had gone, and so, I was told by Muza, he often just read an old newspaper someone had left behind, or talked to himself, his silk jacket still surviving, still clean, but replete with holes. Like before, he would not sweat, even while drinking coffee in the Baghdad heat dressed like a fop.
I asked Ali of his great plans, of his schemes and dangerous ambitions. He just laughed, and extolled, in both wisdom and regret, what had happened. "I always thought that I would have it all," he said. "But I never really thought about what "all" was." I was a brilliant math student in Prague, you know, but never had the patience to be a mathematician. I was clever, as they say, too clever by half, but I never bothered to write down my observations. I thought I would find a young woman to inspire me to greatness, but saw only my own reflection in the many young women who came by here. They came and left, lived their lives, some of them with distinction. And me, I never knew really who I was, or what I wanted to be when I grew up. But Muza there, he keeps pouring me coffee, years after my credit has run bad.
"I've learned after all these years that style must have a reason, and perhaps learned even that reason will make its own style. I have no one left to tell my tales. So I want you to hear my confession:
I'm a lightweight game saddled with heavyweight pretensions. I'm blissfully engineered, but my engine goes nowhere, and it takes forever to do so. Worst of all, I require copious amounts of vexing calculations with little reward at the end of the day.
"Oh," I said, "you mean you have nothing to say but make up for it by saying it a lot."
"I suppose so," he said, deflated.
"I feel for you, Ali, I really do," I replied. But I'm kinda late for a game of Advanced Civilization so I gotta go. Good luck with the finding yourself thing."
GAME REVIEW CHECKLIST
Yes, once again it's the tragic, beautifully engineered euro with no reason to be. Too tiring for a filler, too thin on strategy for a full course. Ah, but the board, the mechanics, the bits, they's a thing of beauty...
Rules
The rules are elegant, intuitive and gloriously simple. There are 6 palaces in Baghdad, each with 4 treasures and 4 guard posts. To win the game you move your guards into the guard posts to clear the way for your thieves to go in and steal the treasures. you can move your guards and the neutral guards as many times as you wish, but you may only place and/or move a thief 3 times in one turn.
The first treasure in each palace requires 4 of your thieves to steal, the next 5, then 6, and finally 7. Once the treasure is stolen, all these thieves go back into the supply of the player who stole that treasure. The first player to steal 4 treasures wins immediately (this is for a 4-player game; in a 2 or 3 player game both the number of required treasures and number of guards per player go up).
Set-up: Each palace starts with a neutral, black-colored guard. The players then place their 2 guards in the palaces of their choice (again, it will be more guards in a game with less players) in sequential fashion (starting player plays one, then each other player, then starting player plays a second, etc.). The starting player gets 6 cards, then 7 for 2nd player, 8 for 3rd, etc. The cards are all identical, save the color (there are no other values, special cards, etc.). There is a separate deck of "dancers" (wild cards).
Turn Sequence On your turn you may play as many cards as you wish to execute the following 3 actions:
1) Place a thief in a palace
2) Move one of your guards from one palace to another (with or without a thief)
3) Move a neutral guard from one palace to another
There is no hand limit, and no limit to the number of times you can move your guards or the neutral guards, but you may only place and/or move a thief 3 times per turn. At the end of your you draw 3 cards. If you took no actions at all on your turn, you draw 3 cards and 1 wild card - note that you can never randomly draw a wild card, as they are all in a separate deck (a source of occasional confusion when discarding).
Card cost for varying actions
There are a few simple rules for all movement and placements:
1) You may only place a thief in a palace where you have at least 1 guard.
2) You may only place a thief in a palace where there is at least 1 guard that is not yours (i.e., neutral or belonging to another player).
3) To play a thief in a palace, you pay 1 to 3 cards of the color of that palace. The number is determined solely by the number of guards in that palace that are not yours (neutrals and other players).
4) To move one of your guards, you may play either one card of the color of the palace you are leaving or entering.
5) If you already have at least one thief in the castle your guard is leaving, you may always bring one (and only one) thief with your guard to the new palace.
6) To move a neutral guard, you must play one card from the color of the palace the card is leaving and another card matching the palace the guard is moving to.
7) You may never move an opponent's guard, or their thieves.
8) You may never move any guard into a palace that already has 4 guards.
A few strategy points
Rule #5 is critical because it allows you to place a thief in a palace for just one card in either of two colors, instead of being forced to play up to 3 cards of one color to place one thief. This means that (duh) having more thieves on the board gives you more options and ways to win. You may even use this maneuver up to 3 times on one turn (b/c the only limit, remember is the number of times you may place or move a thief), so long as you play one of the two appropriate suits (or a wild card) for each guard movement.
Although it is expensive to move a neutral guard, if it is the only guard in a palace except those of just 1 player, moving it elsewhere makes it impossible for that player to play in or move thieves to that palace - and you will of course generally move it to a palace making it more expensive for another player or players to place their thieves - thus for 2 cards you can at least kill 2 birds with one stone.
Note that with 2 cards of the same color you can effectively move a guard (and accompanying thief, if there is one) anywhere (assuming that there are open guard slots) - b/c with the first card you move the guard to that color, and with the second card you move it off that color anywhere else. BUT, if you do this to ferry a thief it will cost you 2 thief movements out of 3, which is not terribly efficient.
The wild cards are of course critical because you are otherwise stuck with the cards you randomly draw. And though you can move guards all you want with your unlimited hand size, the 3 thief per turn limit means that if you wait too late to make your move (much like in Thurn and Taxis) someone may win while you still have a gazillion cards in your hand). It follows that it's most efficient to place or move 2 or 3 thieves every turn you play at all (much like the imperative to purchase buildings in Alhambra with exact change).
The other (and somewhat contradictory) efficiency point is that whenever you can place a thief for a single card, it's usually wise to do so (before other players meddle with your best-laid plans).
Though there are numerous fun ways to mess with each other, there is not much of a penalty for coming in second in vying for a particular treasure. It will simply cost you one extra thief, and as the other player will likely move his guard(s) off that palace anyway once s/he has the treasure, it may end up costing you less cards.
1. DEPTH/COMPLEXITY 5 of 10
"How many and how compelling are the decisions you make per minute?"
This is one of those fascinating games with flawless, elegant mechanics that just doesn't work like you think it should. Because while the rules are simple, the computations (especially with unlimited hand size) are staggeringly complex for the weight of the game. In Thurn and Taxis, for example, there is an effective hand size limit once you play a route, which helps to define one's choices.
The beauty of the game is really the puzzle aspect, and this particular puzzle doesn't play well with others. It's hard for me to define exactly why I like the puzzle element of some games (Bazaar, Alhambra, Pueblo,Streetcar, Atlantic Star,On the Underground) but not so much others (Ark, Bus, Fearsome Floors,Titan).
I guess I just don't find the elaborate movement machinations all that compelling. Worse still, the fatal blow to this game is....
- Analysis Paralysis/Downtime?
This is one of those games that isn't really rewarding unless you can figure out a nifty sequence of movements - but that process can be very time-consuming. And because (unlike crayon rail games, for example), the actions of others can completely wreck your planned move, there is a very serious risk of unnecessary downtime.
Another element that adds to the downtime is that the random draw of colored cards means that it's pretty tough to have a real strategy that goes beyond a turn or two. So you're just left with the computation but not the payoff you get in some games when you're able to pull off a reasonably tricky maneuver (say, in Age of Steam or Power Grid).
At the end of the day, Baghdad feels like a filler game that suffers from the computational complexity of far deeper games such as Caylus, Age of Steam, or Power Grid.
That said, i can imagine that it might be a lot of fun for someone as a 1-player computer game against various bots. Or with a group of players who enjoy thinking through these near-endless variations more than I do.
2. MECHANICS 9 of 10
"How intuitive, elegant and flowing are the moves that bring your tactics to life?"
The mechanics are practically flawless, and incredibly well-balanced. The payoffs, for example, in moving neutral guards to block, or to assist you in being able to move thieves in at all, is really quite ingenious. And the rule sequence is deliciously intuitive, so after one play it's unlikely that you'll never need to pour over the rule book (which is a good thing if you're reading the English version!)
3. INTERACTION 6 of 10
"To what degree does it facilitate a rich social experience?"
In truth, it's more like a 9 and a 3 averaged to a 6. There are many many ways to affect the play of your opponents, and this is really solid. But the downtime and heavy computations make it really hard to enjoy it as a social experience.
4. ORIGINALITY 7 of 10
"How fresh and unique are the strategy, mechanics and theme?"
There is no theme to speak of. It's really a multi-player abstract. Still, the movement and placement sequence are very fresh, purely from a design engineering point of view.
- What's the freshest part of the game?
The movement rules for neutral guards.
5. AMBIENCE 8 of 10
"How much do the theme, aesthetics and bits add the overall experience?"
The board is a mandala, and quite appealing. I think it's almost comparable to the beauty of really stellar boards such as The Pillars of the Earth and Beowulf: The Legend, though much more spare than either of those two.
The bits are nice meeples and, as another reviewer characterized the guards, "geeples." Otherwise there is no theme. The rules could as easily be adopted to a donut factory or school for opera virtuosos. I did joke while playing tonight, however, that the all movements of guards and thieves from one palace to another in the dead of night could gainfully be employed as a pretext for a French sex farce. Or who knows? Maybe it's already been done
6. AUDIENCE
"Who would love this game?"
If you really like an intellectual puzzle that involves revolving door movements of different players and neutral guards combined with difficult card management and placement rules, this game might do it for you. There are, after all, some people on BGG who apparently like it quite a bit. I also suspect, but am not at all sure, that fans of Ricochet Robots, Fearsome Floors, and Niagara may enjoy the movement challenges of this.
I haven't played it as a 2 or 3 player game, but the 2-player version might well be a chess-like experience with a significant other or good friend (someone let me know).
Oddly, both my friend Jose and I independently thought it reminded us of Heimlich & Co., the 1986 Spiel de Jahres winner from Wolfgang Kramer. The games may not be that similar, but there's just something in the movement mechanics that hits a similar chord.
- Fans of X may love this game, but fans of Y may not.
If like me, you would rather just make a "good move" than spend 3 or 5 minutes piecing together a "perfect move" - and have still less enthusiasm for watching other people go through this process, then avoid the thief like the plague. Any game that tends to bring out the A/P in people dramatically diminishes the number of potential players you may enjoy playing with. But of course the same thing could probably be said for some games I like, notably Pueblo and Streetcar. The difference for me is that I find the twists and bends of Streetcar more compelling and really enjoy the uniqueness of Pueblo.
- Does it hit a sweet spot? Which one?
Not for me and most of my gaming group, but I suspect that a small minority of gamers will love this game. What should you try instead?
Blue Moon City offers a lot of the same placement, movement and hand management challenges with some deeper gameplay.
On the Underground has a real depth of long-term strategy. And like many other very good games, the incentives push players to make relatively quick, but interesting decisions along the way in a series of nifty turn-by-turn victory point puzzles.
Aladdin's Dragons has very similar, but much better developed, thematic elements.
Alhambra, if and only if you play it with some of the expansions, offers the hand management and efficiency rigor and the nifty puzzle element of putting together your little town - with the added bonus of seeing a whole city develop in front of your eyes (instead of just having a few little "treasure chest" tiles.
- Luck (& Chaos) : Player Control
There is always the luck of the draw in card-driven games. But the lack of hand size limits means this isn't a real problem. There is some chaos, purely because of all the options players have, but player control is fairly high.
Overall 5 of 10
As with my recent review of Bang! ( http://www.boardgamegeek.com/article/1622348, it's frustrating for me to give a low score to a game that does so many things - specifically great mechanics - so right. But the flaws in Baghdad underscore the difference between a well-designed game and a good game, a distinction often parsed well by self-avowed Ameritrashers.
Baghdad is a much better designed game, for example, than The Republic of Rome or Junta, but I love those games despite their obvious warts. Why? Because like a lot of older American games, these examples know what they are, and they ooze bucketfuls of flavor and theme (and yes, the 32-page rulebook) to prove it. (Granted, those are longer games, but the point remains.)
By contrast, in Baghdad there's no there there. If Los Angeles is, as they say, 30 suburbs looking for a city, then this game is a fistful of mechanics looking for a raison d'etre. And the triumph of naked engineering over substance here embodies the soulless pre-fab euro motif. To a t.
In more direct terms, like many games, Baghdad doesn't know what it's supposed to be, and ultimately, why it exists.
I'm sure there's fodder for a canonical political / military allegory there, but I've leave that for the moment.
cheers,
topherr
Posted Wed Aug 8, 2007 10:47 am
