Santiago Board Game Review
By MARK WILSON
Year Published: 2003
Players: 3-5
Playing Time: 75 Minutes
Santiago does a little bit of everything, and it does all of them well.
Ok, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. But next to so many other games that are trying to be half a dozen different things, it feels revelatory. And that’s because it actually works coherently together with itself. The organic, intuitive whole is more than the sum of its parts, unlike so many others with seemingly bolted-on mechanisms that don’t contribute to the narrative whole.
And the best part? Santiago does all of this in no less than 90 minutes (often less), including teaching, and doesn’t sacrifice player interaction in its mechanical structure.
What’s Old Is New
I have developed a bias of late. I discovered a bunch of old-school games from the German design school that were made in the 90s and 2000s, and I adore them.
What’s more, often I can’t believe where the hobby has migrated to, compared to these tightly designed, beige masterpieces. Sure, if the aesthetics of these games aren’t your thing, I won’t argue. Santiago is, by most accounts, bland-looking at best. I don’t object to the glow-up hobby games have gotten in subsequent years, at least not usually (overproduction is its own topic).
But what surprises me the most is that we’ve ditched designs of this type. Not entirely, of course, but the hot-ticket, big-box crowdfunding projects seem to have no modern Santiagos in them. And Santiago’s quiet – yet contentious – pleasures are arguably more refined and fulfilling for many.
Santiago’s Structure
You are bidding on crop tiles and planting them on the game’s grid map, representing plots of land and the canals between them. Ultimately, you want to link crops of the same type together, which will result in bigger payouts when you own tiles in these sections.
One problem, everyone else wants the same, often with different crop types.
Actually, two problems. Your plots need to be watered along the canal lines, and there’s only so much water to go around.
Actually, three problems. One player will claim “Canal Overseer” each round and dictate where the water will flow. You can bribe the overseer to choose your preferred direction, but will often be bidding against others. Fortunately, you can occasionally team up with another player to sweeten the pot in a way that will help you both.
Actually, four problems. The same money you’re using to bid on tiles to place is also used to bribe the canal overseer, and leaning too far in one direction will likely leave you helpless in the other.
Actually, five problems. Money is victory points, so the more you spend, the better you need to do on the central board in order to compete with those who are more frugal in their bids and bribes, or who collect the most money as overseer.
The Beauty of Interrelation
Hopefully you can already see why this game works so wonderfully. There are auctions, tile laying, bribing, negotiations and temporary alliances, and money management. But each of those things is intimately linked to every other part of the game. You can’t just focus on bribes. You can’t just lay nice with other players to gain favors later in the game. You can’t just win the juiciest tiles and hope they’ll be watered in time to pay out, before they go barren.
Remove one of those aspects and nothing else makes sense. It’s an organic, living creation between players, one that ebbs and flows like canal waters, favoring some players until they overextend or reach the limits of their current spending spree.
Further, table talk will ensure that no one gets too far ahead. Which means that, at times, you’ll have to be savvy about when you splurge for a tile or bribe. Maybe there’s an open, already-watered plot. Placing there and not having to worry about the outcome of the overseer bribe can be a huge relief. Conversely, maybe you’re overpaying for that early placement if you could instead slide into a lane that the overseer already wants to water. Throw them a dollar or two and they’re likely to ignore larger bribes since you’ve created a temporary, perhaps unspoken, alliance for that moment.
Additionally, knowing when to accept a loss, allowing a tile to go barren, can be just as shrewd. Perhaps it cuts off other plots that would score higher for others if they connected. Or perhaps you’re just recovering your funds for a round or two, preparing for a big push once the board state is more to your liking.
And do you drive up a bribe when someone else really needs a particular tile watered? Or risk the overseer seeing what you’re doing and accepting your bribe, one that you didn’t actually intend on winning with. Sure, you denied someone precious water, but at what cost?
These are the considerations that will bubble up in every session of the game. They’re always delightfully interesting and subtly viscous at the best moments.
Fragility In Player-Driven Games
There are minor flaws here, and while none of them kill the whole of the thing, there’s one criticism that seems to follow the game around: It’s only a 5-player game, they’ll say, and doesn’t work as well at 3-4P.
Why? So the argument goes, it’s because it’s less contentious, sanding off some of the harsher edges mentioned above, to the point where most players can get most of their tiles watered.
And do I agree? Sort of. I also have a solution.
It’s mathematically true that the game becomes less punitive at lower player counts, which is the appeal for many of Santiago’s fans. I’d argue, though, that at least some of this can be mitigated through player decisions. See, a group playing cooperatively (for who knows what reason!) could conceivably water pretty much anything at any player count. But a fully cutthroat group will cut that number by as much as 50%.
Player mentality matters as much as player count, so cutthroat negotiations and bidding can still exist at any player count. But it then becomes more dependent on the players at these counts to help the game to deliver its best experience. 5-Player games will be more consistently contentious, and thus satisfying, to those who resonate with such elements in games.
So I dug into this problem and came back with what I believe to be an elegant solution. A link is below to the full explanation, including mathematical analysis, but it essentially amounts to adding barren tiles to the board during setup in 3-4P games
Will it solve the problem for everyone? Probably not. But it’s simple, requiring no new rules, and will subtly push these player counts into more vicious territory without changing anything about the core gameplay. And even if you aren’t willing to play with a random guy’s house rule variant, I do still think the game works well at 4P. At three, I’d probably suggest something else unless I were using the variant.
Santiago – Conclusions
If I’m ranking largely-forgotten, hidden gems in board gaming, this game is at or near the top. It’s received a more recent, non-English printing, and iirc has had scattered publisher interest across the years. But for most, it’s not going to be readily available. And once purchased, it’s not going to be a recognizable and attractive-looking game that will be easy to introduce to many present-day gamers. Sure, it’s fairly simple to teach and play, but my copy looks like Clipart on cardboard and the theme can occasionally seem as dry as its barren canal channels. I need to become a salesman when pitching it.
I become one because the payoff is worth it, but it also means that I understand some of why Santiago has fallen into obscurity.
However, if that challenge doesn’t seem daunting to you, and you can find yourself a reasonably priced copy, I can’t say enough about how much Santiago does that I enjoy.