Ticket to Fly
Look, it isn’t that I don’t have the utmost faith in Seattle design collective Prospero Hall. I do. It’s just that their best games, titles like Horrified and Jaws, have been pitch-perfect distillations of licensed topics. Even How to Rob a Bank had its cartoony heist vibe going for it. Pan Am, on other hand? Since the airline’s bankruptcy in 1991, who’s passing out that license? I suppose there’s a solid probability that the answer is Disney. But why now? Is 2020 the year the Pan Am image needed a boost? Or has someone at the collective been holding onto their sweet Pan Am idea for decades?
Never mind. There are two main takeaways from this one. First, Pan Am is a graceful blend of worker placement, bidding, and stock hoarding. And second, it’s very nearly a commentary on the zombie-like nature of twentieth-century capitalism.
Pan Am is about Pan Am. No duh. But Pan Am’s twist arrives right up front: you aren’t playing as Pan Am. Neither are your friends. Instead, the Pan Am of Pan Am is a force of nature, no more predictable or placable than a passing hurricane. That wind is always behind you, driving your actions, informing your purchases, threatening to sweep you away. The player companies are bestowed feathery titles like Grand Olympian Air and Premier Inter-Global. Were those the names of historical airlines? It doesn’t matter. By the end of the game, none of them are likely to exist. Unless you count living within the roiling belly of Pan Am as “existence.”
Appropriately, Pan Am is a family game.
The game’s procedure trots through four workhorse phases, each highlighting the yeoman’s work of Prospero Hall more firmly than the last. In a way, each phase also functions as a distortion of the previous phase, like aligning mismatched lenses until the view has been so warped that it resembles something entirely different from its original image.
First comes that most recognizable fallback of board games, the event phase. A card is drawn, tracing the rise of air travel from the lean 1920s through the booming 1960s. There’s a sense of familiarity, even nostalgia, as the march of history strikes predictable beats. Early on, events like the Great Depression or Radio Communication unveil setbacks or new opportunities. The arrival of WWII undoubtedly brings transformation, whether it’s Wartime Research spurring upgrades to airlines’ aging fleets, Conscription selling outdated trimotors to the military for far more than their sticker value, or the economic trill of America’s postwar high. Although there are dips, for the most part the advent of the Jet Age means prosperity for all.
(Meanwhile, like a low rumble from the bushes, Pan Am’s stock price fluctuates. Up a little, down a little, leaping to printed values. Take note of this. It’s good to sniff the air before approaching the watering hole.)
The second and third phases take history and put it through its paces. First, everyone assigns engineers to spaces around the board. There are five in total, spots for building airports and planes, for claiming landing rights, for directing air traffic, for drawing directive cards that break the rules. Some of these function as bids, letting one airline steal the landing rights for a particular destination or pay a premium to be the first with a cruiser or jet in its fleet. Others are first-come first-serve, as with establishing routes.
The reason behind most of your actions is to establish routes. These are how you generate income, with longer routes proving more lucrative than short hops. Each route needs three things: open airways — it wouldn’t do to have planes smashing into each other — a plane that can fly far enough to not crash before it reaches the runway, and landing rights at both the origin and destination.
There are a few ways to claim these landing rights. The simplest method is to own an airport, which grants both a trickle of income and landing rights in its host city forever. The next is to purchase a landing rights card; holding Miami, for example, will let you land there, and the card sticks around in your company so you can use it to build additional routes later. Cue the bidding wars. Particular cities yield more connections than others, so it’s natural to find yourself bidding higher for landing rights in New York than in Bermuda.
But here’s the big question: with only four landing rights up for auction each round, don’t they become scarce? And isn’t it possible that some cities won’t appear at all? Yes and yes. This is where Pan Am gets exciting. Rather than using a card for its exact city, you can discard it to count as any city on its continent. Just like that, your worthless Bermuda card becomes San Francisco. Moreover, you can discard any two cards to become any city in the entire world. All at once, Nome and Gander disappear from your hand to become a critical hub in Paris. Did you know there are cities named Nome and Gander? Okay smarty pants, but way more people have heard of Paris. Of course, this isn’t as efficient as using a single precise city for its own landing rights, especially since you get to keep it. But clever purchases can bypass this problem. Why pay six money tokens for Paris when you can grab both Nome and Gander for free? Even better, you can often use a city for its landing rights until no further routes emerge from it, and then spend it to land somewhere else. Use your resources until they’re entirely wrung out.
(From out of sight, an invisible hand reaches for your throat. There is capitalism and then there is Capitalism. The creature stirs.)
(It is here.)
The fourth phase is the carpet pull, the moment when all the work you’ve done is revealed as secondary to the expansion of Pan Am. With the roll of a die, your rival expands across the globe. Starting in Miami, Pan Am routes south, east, and west, gobbling up routes far faster than any player-driven company can manage. What’s more, if you’re sitting on a route they want? You sell. No, you don’t have a choice.
(The goal was never competition.)
Not that you’d need a choice. Sitting on a short route will yield one income per turn. With seven rounds in the game, you can do the math. Pan Am will pay five money tokens for that same route. That’s not as much as you would make stretched across the entire game, but that’s money you’ll be investing in new planes, landing rights, airports. That’s worth far more than seven dollars in the long run. Never mind that you’re sacrificing your own market share, or that your company will soon become vestigial to the airlines industry. That’s cash now, baby.
(Market self-regulation? Ha!)
What’s the purpose of cash? Stocks. Pan Am stocks. In practice, Pan Am isn’t much of a stock management game, since your portfolio is expressly limited to the big guy. Your own company doesn’t bother to issue stock, so there’s none of the bidding in rival companies that’s common to the genre. If anything, the game’s stocks function much like a variable-cost victory points. As the fourth phase concludes, everybody is given the option to buy shares. This forces you onto a tightrope between spending too little and not having enough of a share in Pan Am at the end of the game, or spending too much and not being able to grow your own airline in order to afford additional stocks. It’s a fantastic trade-off, and has rippling consequences as some players take advantage of price drops only to find themselves skint when it comes time to pony up for all the stuff needed to operate an airline.
(Beasts of blood and bone are limited by natural lifespans and the volume of mass they can squeeze through their gut. Creatures of bits and bytes bear no limit to their appetite. All are subsumed. The communion is encompassing. The food chain will carry only one.)
This approach to victory recontextualizes everything about Pan Am. It’s easy to build a lucrative airline; far harder to do that and worm your way into Pan Am’s fortunes at the same time. This added layer of consideration tightens the game’s focus even as it cinches your own company’s belt by a few notches. It might not provide the wildest approach to stock management, but it does create a number of bottlenecks: between players as they attempt to outbid one another, between airlines as they jostle for routes, and between your long-term and short-term needs as you examine the contents of your wallet. It’s corporate competition that casts you as willing prey on the food chain, eager to sell out your own company to buy into the biggest dog’s good graces.
Not that its slyness is necessary to appreciate how smooth of a flight it provides. All in all, Pan Am is yet another superb effort from Prospero Hall, masterfully blending a handful of systems into a coherent experience from start to finish. Long may they continue designing unusually clever games. And long may Pan Am’s monopoly thrive.
(Until 1991, anyway.)
(If what I’m doing at Space-Biff! is valuable to you in some way, please consider dropping by my Patreon campaign or Ko-fi.)
A complimentary copy was provided.
Posted on June 30, 2020, in Board Game and tagged Board Games, Funko Games, Pan Am, Prospero Hall. Bookmark the permalink. 11 Comments.
A nice review and it sounds like quite a fine game, but I am honestly not sure who this game is for. It seems like there’s an awful lot going on in it for a Target-weight game, and at the same time the Pan Am IP doesn’t seem poised to send games flying off the shelves. I wonder if there’s a sense in which the game is a finger in the wind — “here’s a more serious/substantive game, let’s see if having Catan and TTR and Jaws and Horrified at Target have moved the window enough to where games like this one can succeed in the mass market”. I hope it does well for them.
Really it almost seems nostalgic for that bygone era when being a big business tycoon seemed like a fun premise for a game: Acquire, Stocks and Bonds, etc. Although it sounds like they’ve managed to make their take subversive enough that no one could accuse them of being inadvisably nostalgic for such times!
Oh, it’s plenty nostalgic! It just isn’t blissfully unaware of how empires are built.
I don’t know if Pan Am will succeed either, but I’m heartened to see so much interest buzzing around. Maybe it’s just the next thing that’ll be gone as quickly as it appeared, but like most Prospero Hall designs there’s more to recommend it than first meets the eye.
I think reviews like this one will help it to do well among game-minded folks (you’ve convinced me!), but I wonder how it will do judged against the standards of “Target-successful” (whatever that entails).
The analogue for me is when Hasbro acquired AH in the early 00’s and put out Acquire, Diplomacy, and a few others, as well as the LotR co-op. This of course was when “mass market” meant Toys R Us, and I think they were taking a swing at the general public being ready for more substantive stuff. But I don’t think it worked out all that well, at least not at the level of a “Hasbro-success” (whatever that entails). It seems to me that games like this one are taking another swing at that idea, and while I will be surprised if it works, it will be quite a pleasant surprise and I hope it does.
I’m wondering if you can comment on the two player experience. This game looks really interesting to me, but I mostly play games at 2. And games with auctions generally fall flat with two players.
The bidding isn’t as exciting, but each player receives more engineers, so there’s still some jockeying for position. I’ve enjoyed it at both 2p and 4p, although I much prefer the game at the higher count.
I spot their Godzilla Kaiju Crash (wrong name?) game off to the left there also, sneak peek on thoughts on that? 😛 Mainly because Pan Am is already winging its way to me so this article was more just lips service for me ;). Well written lip service nonetheless!
Good eye! Godzilla: Tokyo Clash is the other title Prospero Hall sent me. Here’s the bad news: I don’t like it.
This was a unexpected find on the games shelf at my local Target on a Sunday afternoon, but when I went to purchase it, the SKU reported that they had placed their stock out too early by mistake. Went back later in the week and picked it up. Then they sold out.
For those of us old enough to remember that there was a Golden of Flying, when passengers got dressed up because traveling by plane was considered glamorous and the stewardess uniform (yes, there was a era before the gender-neutral Flight Attendant designation) was one size-fits-only-the-most-attractive-female, the game will ring a number of nostalgic bells. Pan Am was quite the behemoth back in the day, so much so that the Orion starliner with its blue globe logo provided a possible future glimpse of commercial space flight in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Well, that didn’t turn out as expected- a cautionary tale for any Capitalism enthusiast.
It is a surprisingly middle-weight game for Target to carry, and I suspect a reasonable entry point for casual gamers who are expanding their curiosity into economic-oriented games. Just waiting for a viable vaccine so I can share this gem with my gaming group. Another excellent title from PH.
Thank you for the review, Dan! 🖖
Glad you’re enjoying it, Thomas! Of the most recent crop from Prospero Hall, this is by far my favorite.
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