One of my earliest memories is being taken to the cinema by my mum to watch Superman 3. Watching it now, it’s all pretty hokey but at the time I recall finding Richard Pryor really funny and marvelling at Superman picking up a lake with one hand.
And I also remember hiding in absolute terror when the Naughty Lady Villain got caught in a tractor beam by the supercomputer at the end, enmeshing her skin with wires and metal, transforming her into some sort of despotic zombie robot. As supercomputers are prone to do.
Anyway, I don’t think I was able to open my eyes for weeks afterwards, and I’m pretty sure that if a hypnotherapist getting to the bottom of my everlasting anxiety disorder would sit me down in a chair, zonk me out, they’d discover that Christopher Reeve in a red cape forms part of the source to the problem.
Compare and contrast to my daughter who proudly proclaims “I like scary things!”. Show her Quentin Blake’s pictures of the Grand High Witch’s disfigured face, images that scarred me as a child, and she barely bats her eyelid.
Show her Bambi and she watches without a single lip quiver, because, of course Bambi’s mother dies – every animated movie has a dearly beloved character snuffing it.
‘What better game to play with a small child than an apocalyptic survival horror adventure that has a 15 rating clamped on it, and seeing if I can do it in a way that won’t get social services turning up at my door.’
Put her in front of Return to Oz – the nearest children’s movies has ever got to a gothic horror flick – and she watches a gallery of screaming women’s severed heads with nothing more than a sense of morbid curiosity.
She does though get scared sometimes of the washing machine starting.
I raise all this because, well, what better game to play with a small child than an apocalyptic survival horror adventure that has a 15 rating clamped on it, and seeing if I can do it in a way that won’t get social services turning up at my door.
Now, I’m not usually much of a fan of tile-based games – give me a proper sturdy board any day. But I do like a good city crawler, and therefore Zombies!!!, with its looting of shops for medicine and weapons, carries with it a huge supply of fun.
How does Zombies!!! play with a kid whose age is still in single figures?
Turns out it’s frightfully easy. This is thanks in large part to the game’s co-operative mode, meaning she gets to take on the unleashed endless horde alongside her dear old dad. And that way she gets advice on movement and when to play the right card, and bash some undead heads in. It’s a marvellous form of family bonding.
I do try to supply playing this game with a vague sense of responsibility and vet the cards, some of which aren’t for smaller eyes. Alas, E picks up a card featuring a zombie peering soullessly at the severed head dangling from his fingers.
Oh no. I prepare for a scream and lost afternoons trying to coax a traumatised child into daylight forever more.
But what we get instead is a gleeful “look at this naughty man” before carrying on carefree with her turn.
Seems kids, at least this one, are made of sterner stuff nowadays.
E’s review
What do you like best about the game?
“I like that zombies do eat you. It’s really fun.”
Is it difficult?
“It’s just a bit tricky”
Marks out of 10
“14”
My review
Advised age range
15+
Set-up time
2 or 3 minutes
Price
£20 to £30 for the base game
Practicality
Considering how many components there are (100 zombies!!!), the box is tiny. Those little health, bullet and door tokens though prove pretty fiddly. Also, this being a tile-base game, it’s a game that can be easily destroyed by an overexcited child’s flailing limbs
Fun for parents?
Absolutely. It’s a game for grown-ups. But the collaborative mode is excellent fun as well when played with younger gamers