Figure Shop Simulator Review (PC)

Figurines are, without a shadow of a doubt, the most sought-after form of collectible in the world. Scratch that, they’re one of three, maybe four. But remove the trading cards, historic coins, and comic books from the equation, and they would make for the rarest, albeit most expensive collections in modern times. Figure Shop Simulator wants this; it yearns to center the collectible universe around plastic and rubber, resin and paint. It more or less strives to exclude the usual suspects from a cliche-riddled business sim, and instead opts to build its four walls around a universal truth: that people just want figurines. With that, it presents you with a no-nonsense business plan: to create a shop for collectibles, and to capitalize upon the world’s greatest pastime.

Of course, if you happened to slice out the figurines from the box, then you would, rather miserably, have the same basic idea that we’ve seen hundreds of times before. And by that I mean, a barebones supermarket simulation experience that pulls on all of the same notches as your bog-standard chore core game. Oh, it has all of that energy—the same audiovisual and jank-addled trappings that you would naturally expect to find embroidered on an indie tapestry. But we won’t jump into all of that just yet.

At its core, Figure Shop Simulator is of a similar style as your usual build-and-upgrade simulator, meaning, if you’re familiar with the standard progression style of a traditional installment, then you’ll understand just about everything that comes bagged and tagged in this high street store. There’s stocking shelves, taking inventory, serving customers, and—surprise surprise—sourcing collectibles to add to your collection. If that sounds like your idea of a good time, then read on.

Dime a Dozen

As much as I’d like to say that Figure Shop Simulator is a natural-born rarity among common collectibles, I just can’t. The truth here is that, while the game does make an effort to switch up the narrative by throwing figurines and 3D printing machines into the mix, the actual process of building, maintaining, and running a shop is about as uncommon as a cactus plush in a McDonald’s Happy Meal. Like its peers, the game sees you carrying out all of the same jobs—a generic list that includes tasks that involve adding items to various shelving units, finding popular designs to introduce to the market, and interacting with customers to help build a repertoire of loyal collectors.

Suffice it to say that, Figure Shop Simulator doesn’t do anything particularly exciting with the assets in its repository. The only feature that it does bring to the table—a feature that I’ve yet to see elsewhere on the market, weirdly—is the ability to create custom items via an in-game 3D printing tool. Granted, it doesn’t flaunt the greatest design suite in the world, nor does it introduce copious amounts of layers for you to work with or manipulate. But it does allow you the chance to build on your existing collection by fostering new and exciting blueprints—a feature that’s deserving of its own rare status, all things considered.

With all of the above out in the open, what you see here is exactly what you get: a run-of-the-mill shopkeeping simulator that houses the same jargon and performance-based milestones that we’ve seen upwards of a thousand times over in alternate iterations of the Supermarket Simulator series. But don’t let that dampen your excitement; Figure Shop Simulator has plastic rarities.

Like Finding a Needle in a Haystack

Running a collectible store comes with all of the usual problems that you might expect to encounter in a real-world environment. For example, the financial obligations that are required to maintain the business’ core values are shackled to net worth and prestige. In other words, if the figures that you stock aren’t of any proper quality or significance, then you don’t have a business; you have an empty shell of a stockroom with toys that literally nobody wants to buy, let alone display in a glass cabinet. To counter issues like this, you have a rather daunting job to tackle: play the market, and fluctuate the prices of your products to juggle a supply and demand curve. A minor burden — but it adds a glimmer of strategy to the experience, nonetheless.

Unfortunately, Figure Shop Simulator can be awfully dull — especially during the aftermath of the initial financial blowout and subsequent lull in objectives. I can’t say that it goes much deeper than the usual bits and pieces that gravitate toward a business simulation game, to be honest. And while I can’t argue that there is fun to be had here, I can’t recommend it to anyone who’s looking for an experience that flaunts a deeply rooted sense of immersion. You won’t find that here. Rather, you will find an easy way to unwind for a few hours before trickling along to the next business on the monopoly board.

As per the norm of most business simulation games, you can expect to bump into your fair share of AI jank and loose screws here. The graphics are, well, they’re drab and forgettable, to say the least. The audio isn’t anything to write home about, either. And the gameplay, eh — it isn’t the smoothest. Nevertheless, there’s potential for it to redeem itself.

Verdict

Figure Shop Simulator isn’t a rarity; it’s a common card that falls beneath a surplus of second-hand decks that are more of a dime a dozen than any other game of its kind. It’s a successor for a concept that’s in abundance of familiar trappings, if anything—the next in line for a throne that has one too many studs and pointless add-ons, to boot. Yet, even with the same bells and whistles stitched into its resin-based throne, it still finds a way to appeal to its target audience—the same folk who enjoy generic chore core simulators that reflect the highs and lows of retail work.

To help steer you in the appropriate direction, I’ll leave you with this. If you happen to find yourself part of the aforementioned demographic, then you won’t find a shortage of mundane jobs to onboard in Figure Shop Simulator. If, however, you’re new to the genre and aren’t entirely sure what to expect, then heed this advice: it doesn’t matter if it’s a collectible that you’re selling or a fresh bunch of bananas; if there’s an air-headed customer, an endless checklist of boring jobs, and a carrot on a stick that makes palpable promises that grand things will eventually come to fruition, then it’s highly likely that you’ll wind up either falling for the same ol’ trick until the bitter end, or finding a newfound hatred for just about everything that fleshes out the retail sector. Personally, I’m sick of carrots.