I love a cosy hobby and I know I’m part of a hardcore collective when I say that. Whether it’s crafting, reading, colouring books or baking, I’m all for getting as cosy as possible and enjoying some downtime. And for the past few years, I’ve also enjoyed the distinct rise in cosy video games that emulate gentle low-stakes scenarios. Titles that you can happily get lost in for hours.
It’s not a new trend, per say. Take 2000’s The Sims as one of the iconic titles that invited you to simulate life at your own pace – raising kids, getting jobs and tidying up your gone – off food (or just taking away the stairs in your pool and watching them suffer, ahem). But, they’ve definitely become more distinct in their offering and that’s where Cozy Game Restoration slots in rather nicely. It’s literally got cosy in the name and, to be incredibly on the nose, it’s also simply about restoring games.
Created by indie developer Parasol Corp, Cozy Game Restoration wants you to revitalise old game cartridges by cleaning off dirt and grime, removing old stickers and their residue, buffing out scratches and ultimately turning weathered games into impressive collectibles. Why? Because your Gramps has asked you to.
Ol’ Gramps has given you his restoration kit; a cotton bud, tweezers, a toothbrush, a heat gun, UV light, polish and solvent to get the job done. Each tool has its own specific use when cleaning up a cartridge, but all are available to you straight off the bat. Gramps wants you to use them all to grow a collection of 108 games – and he’ll give you a cheeky $10 in pocket money each night to spend on doing so.
Each morning, said packages will arrive at your door. Their contents are kept a mystery. It’s unclear what game you’re going to find inside until you buy it, which certainly satisfies my growing obsession with blind boxes. Then, it’s up to you how much you clean it to turn the best profit. While each game needs you to at least whip up a 70% cleaning score, it’s down to you whether you S-grade it up to 100%. But, you can always return to a game later down the line.
And there’s some rich intricacies to the game restoration that I really enjoyed. With cosy games, you need these subtleties to create a routined and relaxed experience and Cozy Game Restoration certainly has them. Like peeling off the tape from the top of my next package, its shiny grip released as I pulled it in the right direction. Similarly, when I grab the tweezers to find the right tension on a sticker, making sure I don’t create more sticky residue than necessary. Or the pipet of solvent that runs out, mimicking real-life behaviours. The toothbrush that gets dirtier on top to indicate it needs a refresh on the little yellow sponge firmly planted on your desk.
While it all sounds rather cosy and simple, there’s a troubling lack of actual direction in the game that emerges fairly early on. Yes, you’re restoring games, but for what end? While Gramps has asked you to build a collection, it’s not clear whether your goal is to make a profit or simply hit 108 games and be done with it. Each game can be sold, but it’ll disappear from your collection count, making it harder to reach the target Gramps has set. And you can certainly work at finding 108 original games, for those true completionists, but you can also just find 108 games full stop.
If you do choose to make money, you can only spend it on receiving more packages per day (up to 12), or displaying your inventory in the collection room (up to 21). Selling your games on the marketplace has its own intricacies though. Each day, you’re told how the economy is affecting game prices. Some will pay out better than others and some will see a hit. So, playing the market is an interesting way to earn more profit for yourself. But, reinvesting it back into games is the only real fun you can have.
What you put on display in your collection room also affects the game. As you grow your collection, you increase your ability to find rarer packages by cleaning them to S-grade and displaying them in groups on your shelves. You can also increase your surface area and cleaning power by grouping certain genres together.
Growing your collection is seemingly the point, but earning money from it doesn’t seem necessary, especially when you can end the day and get $10 whenever you want. There’s no reward for earning a profit or owning better games, other than your collection has a higher worth. With that worth, you’re incredibly limited on what you can spend it on, apart from more games. For legal reasons, you won’t recognise the games though spanning made-up titles from Ultra Good Boys 64 to games to play on your Gamefriend.
With so many cosy games on offer, I’d argue it’s harder to carve your own space in a busy landscape. But, what I do believe after playing a lot of this genre myself is that the best cosy games are those that offer a path and especially a reward for your troubles.
Unfortunately, Cozy Game Restoration doesn’t quite recompense you for your efforts. Sure, you can unlock room decor via collection-based quests, like unlocking a game and cleaning it to a certain grade, but you’re incredibly limited on where you can display them. There’s no upgrading your tools or even unlocking them in the first place.
There is an attempt at a narrative storyline woven between the cardboard boxes. Amongst packages, you’ll find the odd note from the previous owner. Finding and connecting them will give you a glimpse of nostalgia and storytelling, but I didn’t feel a drive to unwrap a new package to find another one. Half the time, I forgot they were even there and almost blew them away with the packing peanuts.
I built an entire collection (littered with duplicates, so don’t praise me just yet for finding all 108 originals) and I was left feeling two distinct things about Cozy Game Restoration. Firstly, that I’d now developed a claw for a hand, akin to Chandler in Friends or Jim Carrey in Liar, Liar. Scrubbing game cartridges clean is hard work, apparently, and my hand suffered as a consequence. But, I definitely enjoyed the sacrifice, working hard with my cotton bud and toothbrush to truly bring each game back to life.
But, I also felt pretty deflated. The game wasn’t mistaken that I’d have a suitably cosy time, but I fear being cosy isn’t quite enough these days. I was missing a sense of achievement, a dopamine hit alongside that feeling like I’d been a part of an experience. I’d cleaned some games, pretty well, and that was about all I had to show for it. Plus a few plant pots and framed prints.
