Few things inspire more gamers and more game sales than an attractive theme. We all have our favorites; almost everyone's collection is filled to the brim with games aimed at our personal weakness. And just about everyone agrees that a good theme can really enhance your enjoyment of a game.
But is the converse true? Will you probably dislike a game if
the theme leaves you flat? Many gamers think so, and I'm afraid
they may be missing out on some great games as a result. Here's
my reasons for looking past an uninspiring theme when considering
whether you'd like to try out a game.
Perhaps the best example of a game with a theme that was viewed as problematic is Uwe Rosenberg's great creation Bohnanza. When this was first released, I remember several reviewers saying they had been reluctant to try it, because who could get excited about a game dealing with bean farming? No doubt many other gamers felt the same way. Of course, the game eventually became such a runaway hit that sheer word of mouth probably caused most players to try it eventually and fall in love with it.
My point is, it shouldn't have been an issue in the first place. Sure the topic of bean farming is less than enthralling. But we are talking about a card game here, one featuring trading, not economics. There's a silly picture of an anthropomorphic bean on the cover and the box clearly states that the game takes only 45 minutes. Would anyone in their right mind think that this is a simulation of bean farming? Like so many German card games, the theme is just something slapped on to give the game atmosphere and let the illustrator come up with some funny pictures. And yet, a lot of gamers almost let this one get by.
Lesson #1: Don't get too concerned with a game's theme if it's obviously just window dressing.
Sometimes the problem isn't the theme, but the fact that it
doesn't match the gameplay. Reiner Knizia's 
Vampire is an interesting rummy-like
card game that features a goodly number of tough decisions. The
theme is vampire hunting, which again has little to do with the
game, but at least it's more intriguing than planting beans. The
problem is that when the game first came out, many people picked
it up thinking it was about garlic and wooden stakes and mad
dashes through Transylvania. When they realized it was actually
rummy on steroids, disappointment set in. Consequently, the early
reviews on this one were negative and it's only recently that the
game has been viewed in a favorable light. I just wonder how many
people deprived themselves of enjoying a good game because the
theme led them to expect something different than what they
got.
But in this case, I actually do have a problem with the theme of this game: it's inappropriate for its potential audience. Because Vampire is a thought-provoking game that is nonetheless rooted in fairly traditional mechanics, it is an ideal game to play with non-gamers, particularly parents or in-laws, who are usually familiar with rummy-style games. Unfortunately, Aunt Sadie isn't going to be too thrilled with a game about offing the Lord of the Undead. Nor will she be overly pleased with the illustrations, which naturally are a little gory. By slapping on yet another facile, but potentially offensive theme, Goldsieber may have missed out on a sizable audience.
Lesson #2: Don't give up on a game just because it's different than the theme led you to believe it would be.
What initially hurt Vampire wasn't a poor theme, but people's
expectations. Another example of this is Knizia's Ra. 
This is an auction
game with equipment and scoring rules steeped in the appearance
and terminology of ancient Egypt. Despite all the gods and
pyramids and such, the mechanics of the game have nothing to do
with the theme, which is pretty much par for the course with
Knizia. There were two sharply divided views on this game. One
group immediately loved it and found that the window dressing only
added to their enjoyment. The second group, equally entranced by
Egyptian culture, were bitterly disappointed when they realized a
game they thought would portray 1500 years of Egyptian
civilization (the game descriptions in the rules were a bit ripe)
turned out to be yet another auction game. Many of these players
have never warmed to the game. The irony is that, given Knizia's
popularity, if Ra had had a less evocative theme, it might have
captured most of the first group without turning off any of the
second group. No doubt such thoughts keep game company executives
awake for a major portion of the night.
Lesson #3: Evocative themes are great, but be ready to look beyond them to the game itself if they promise more than they deliver.
Even if a theme accurately reflects a game's mechanics, it can
still lead to false expectations about the kind of mechanics being
used. Consider the Wolfgang Kramer/Richard Ulrich game Die
Händler.
I've never played this one, but a few players have reported that
they were initially disappointed in it, but later grew to
appreciate it. They said the problem was that the theme led them
to believe that this would be a game featuring trading, when in
fact it really emphasizes movement and negotiation. In their
first few games, when they looked to the trading to carry the
game, it seemed underdeveloped; it wasn't until they began to
explore other aspects of the design that the game's virtues became
apparent. It's possible that the mixed reviews this game has
received are due at least in part to players expecting the game to
be something it is not.
This happens more often than you might think. One of my
favorite Knizia games is Stephenson's Rocket, which is based
around the early days of railroading in Britain. This game has an
unusually strong theme for a Knizia game. However, many veterans
of the genre have dismissed it, saying that it is not a "train
game". I believe what they are really saying is that it doesn't
reflect the realities of railroading in the manner of the classic
"train game", 
Francis Tresham's 1830. But I would
contend that 1830, with its restrictive tile laying rules,
convoluted train routes, and extreme manipulations of the stock
market, is just as abstract and non-realistic a game as Stephenson's
Rocket. Don't get me wrong—1830 is a great and marvelously
designed game. But it is in no way a realistic simulation of the
railroad industry—nor does it attempt to be. So when its fans
reject a similarly themed game as somehow unqualified to represent
the genre, I think they're simply reacting to the fact that the
game in question is different, rather than not as good. Their
expectations about what a "train game" should be may get in the
way of their appreciating other excellent games.
Lesson #4: A theme doesn't necessarily dictate a game's mechanics—keep an open mind.
So am I saying a game's theme doesn't matter? Of course not. To me, a good theme is particularly welcome in a game I probably would have liked anyway. For example, the historical themes of El Grande (Kramer/Ulrich) and Web of Power (Michael Schacht) do an excellent job of hiding the fact that these are actually fairly abstract games. And many of my favorite games, including such titles as Tikal (Kramer/Michael Kiesling) and Serenissima (Dominique Erhard/Duccio Vitale), have themes which are completely and engrossingly interwoven with the game play. The themes of these games add immeasurably to the experience of playing them. But, while I'm always glad when a theme enhances a game, I try not to let less appropriate themes serve as a negative. As a result, I think this has kept my mind open to a wider selection of games.
Of course, if
you're a confirmed theme-watcher, don't fret. The game
manufacturers of the world are willing to work with you. For
example, last year, Gerard Mulder and Johan Schuyl came out with a
game called Wortelboer that featured carrots and foxes and cute
little bunnies. However, many players thought the gameplay was
too aggressive and nasty for this pastoral theme and the game
languished. Consequently, Rio Grande Games will be re-releasing
it this year with a slightly more assertive theme. The name of
the new game? Genghis Khan!
Now there's a theme for you.
- Larry Levy
