In the sad, strange world of little Anthony, the mid-90s yielded a bumper crop of excessive board games. Over the years, I (and by proxy you, the faithful reader) have been blessed with such luminaries as 13 Dead End Drive and It From the Pit; a pair of wacky, impressive constructions that are honestly more fun to look at than to actually play.
Not every game is quite so spectacular, unfortunately. Some of them are modest in their visage, and tepid in their delivery. But hey, let's not bury the lede any further. You already know I'm talking about those motherfucking Frantic Ants.
Coming out of the Parker Brothers workshop in 1995, this was yet another one of those noisy motorised devices that demanded your C batteries as well as the undivided attention of everyone else in the household. Your nervous, jittery dog that keeps peeing on the rug? Frantic Ants is probably to blame.
The premise is basic to the point of arbitrary: you, as the lord and ruler of one variation of ant, must place your minions atop the anthill, spinning a little arrow on occasion that will either guide you to success or lead you to an early, buggy grave.
As always, props go to the advertising gurus who somehow managed to make this concept compelling. Without them, I doubt I would be the proud(?) owner of these manic insects.
Skip ahead to the 37 second mark for the relevant commercial, unless you're particularly interested in the notion of dickhead kids asking Bob Dole hard-hitting political questions, such as his policy on lunch.
The anthill structure itself is made up of three separate pieces, and I'm really quite shocked that I still have all three said pieces in my possession. This is despite the box being entirely AWOL, something that doesn't usually happen to my board games.
Were those ants so amazing, I had to repurpose them as action figures? I did bend some of their antennas to make them look more unique, and yes, the red one was the main character. He probably would have been voiced by Rob Paulsen, or Billy West, or Richard Simmons. That last one might work better than you'd think, just let it marinate for a while.
In actuality, I don't entirely understand the premise of the spinning device. It has the numbers 1-3, which I assume refers to which anthill they start from as opposed to their position on the basketball court. There's also a shortcut that places them right near the finish line like a fucking cheater. There's the anteater, which theoretically removes an ant from play, and a lounging ant picture that I suppose means you miss your turn, or go on a fabulous vacation.
Is that really all there is to it? If your ants are in a favourable position, couldn't you just be an asshole and delay your spin until they've safely reached their destination? This certainly doesn't sound like stellar game design to me, and while I was pondering over the specifics, my cat came and plucked up one of the purple ants (the most delicious colour), before running off with it to another part of the house.
Does that mean it won the game? Or was that the stunning recreation of what it's like when the anteater claims your poor ant's life? If so, it's a harrowing image.
Well, that's really all there is to the game of Frantic Ants. A quick glance at Board Game Geek confirms my suspicions as to the rules, though quite to the contrary, it advises that your best tact is pure, blinding speed when your turn arrives. Shows what I fucking know, I guess I'm no expert on board games. Or entomology.
All up, I have to say that the pundits were being a bit generous with their 6 out of 10 rating. It's like a noisy game of backgammon, accompanied by an army of leering, grinning ants. Call me a snob if you must, but I think I would actually give it about half of that score.
Technically speaking, if you have an egg timer and a piece of paper, you could remove the anthill aspect entirely and just compete with the spinner alone.
As Tommy Lee Jones once asked of Will Smith, "that sound like fun?"
Near as I recall, Will Smith's response was to slap Tommy Lee Jones in the face, and then win an Academy Award. Pretty sure that's how Men in Black ended.
In any event, even a stupid thing is worth doing right, so before I send those ants home to the op shop — and/or the junk heap — I'm gonna load it up with batteries and fire it up one last time. Let's see just how Frantic those Ants can get, shall we?
