“Is Brass: Birmingham as good as people say it is?” The answer is yes. A resounding, soot-covered, sing-it-from-the-pits, yes.

Bold as brass

Brass: Birmingham isn’t the first game in the series, as the ‘Birmingham’ suffix implies. In fact, it’s not even the second. It’s the sort-of third. Martin Wallace designed the original game – Brass – which was critically acclaimed, but if we’re being honest, not much of a looker. Around 2016 Roxley Games teamed up with Martin to refresh the game with a new lick of paint and a brand new version. Brass became Brass: Lancashire, and Brass: Birmingham emerged at the same time. The Kickstarter went bonkers, and the original £48,000 target was left in the dust as they raised a cool million quid.

Lancashire is the same game as the original, albeit with some rough edges smoothed off, while Birmingham took the original formula and tweaked it with some new mechanisms and a randomised board setup, which helped it stand on its own two feet. The biggest change came in the art and graphic design, which got a complete overhaul and produced one of the most gorgeous boards in all of boardgaming.

The hallmark of Martin Wallace’s designs is the level of interaction between players. Whether it’s direct mano-a-mano conflict like in A Few Acres of Snow, the hidden role area control of Discworld: Ankh-Morpork, or the auctions of Tinners’ Trail. The same interaction is woven into Brass’ tweed, but with a clever twist. There’s this wonderful feeling of simultaneous competition and co-dependence, as each player tries to carve out their own spot in the Black Country, while relying on the other players to extend the reach of their network for the all-important trading. It’s this networking which leads to the trickier concepts to wrap your head around in Brass: Birmingham.

Brassed-off

Brass: Birmingham only has two main resources to worry about: coal and iron. Despite only having these two, explaining how they work can be heavy going. Both are necessary to build the buildings you want on the board, but consuming them is tricky. Iron can be taken from anywhere on the board, as long as it comes from an Ironworks, before turning to the communal market. Simple. Coal, however, needs a transport connection to a coal source, whether that’s coal on someone’s coal pit tile on the board, or the market.

Brass: Birmingham places huge importance on connections and networks, which are related, but distinct. Your networks are linked tiles of your colour, while connections are any number of networks that intersect, regardless of whose they are. For some reason it feels as if the concept is harder to teach than it ought to be, and I’m not sure why, I just know that in every teach I’ve done so far, that’s the part I’ve had to repeat or clarify the most. Don’t be surprised if, in your first couple of games, people try to build something using coal, only to find that they can’t trace a connection back to the coal market.

I’ve placed emphasis on these foibles because it’s important to understand that when you get past that initial learning hurdle, Brass: Birmingham reveals itself like a drunk Premier League footballer. At its heart, it’s just a case of play a card, then choose whether to build something (cards have either locations or building types), make a transport connection to extend your network, develop an industry, or take a loan from the bank. There’s a bit more to it than that, but understanding those basic actions opens up this wonderful, Industrial Revolution-era playground, just waiting to be explored by you and your friends.

Getting down to brass tacks

Despite the simple actions Brass: Birmingham is as rich and deep as a bathful of balti. Each player has the same set of buildings on their player boards and the same options open to them at the start of the game. It means that although you never know which cards the other players are holding, there’s a good chance they’re eyeing up the same building spots as you. Getting early coal and iron can be a huge boon, as can opening those initial connections to the market spots around the edge of the board. I really like how the iron and coal cubes get placed on your tile when you build them, and it’s only by getting rid of them (used for building) that you get to flip the tile and score the points printed on it. In your first game it seems obvious; get the coal and iron buildings built, forcing others to use the resources on your buildings, so that you benefit from their actions. Points in the bag for doing nothing – nice.

Things aren’t always that simple though, and there’ll be times – especially in the late game – when all of your plans are left in tatters when another player uses the last pieces of iron you were relying on. Sure, you can buy it from the market, but do you have the money? Curse those smug, iron-taking knobheads! (inspired by real events). The dichotomy between wanting to demolish your opponents while depending on them is simply brilliant. It’s another game of not being able to do everything, and choosing which industries you want to focus on is a difficult choice, one made even more awkward when you realise you have a direct competitor sat opposite you.

One of my favourite features is the way the game is split into two eras. The canal era plays out for the first half of the game, and then there’s an interim scoring, and all of the first-era buildings and canal boat network links are removed from the board. It leaves players scrambling to rebuild industry and to forge new, more expensive, rail links between the towns and cities. Not only does it add a nuanced layer of strategy (upgraded buildings don’t get removed, giving somewhere to build from again), but it also acts as a kind of reset point, letting players suddenly strong-arm their way into areas of the map once the domain of someone else. It’s also a really good time to get a cup of tea.

Honestly, sitting here and typing up my notes, I keep daydreaming back to the last time I played, and I find myself wanting to play it again, right now. That’s how much I like this game.

Final thoughts

Despite the less-than-intuitive differences between the way the only two resources behave, and learning how networks and connections work, Brass: Birmingham is a work of art. From the most literal interpretation of art, with the gorgeous board which has a day and a night side (purely aesthetic), to the abstract notion of a game as art. If game design is an art, then Messrs. Wallace, Brown and Tolman have made something worthy of the Louvre.

The setting isn’t going to appeal to everyone. 18th-19th century industry in the Midlands isn’t exactly the most glamorous setting. This is a dyed-in-the-wool Euro though, which has thick. beige blood running under its oh-so-pretty skin. Theme and setting aren’t the things which sell a game like this to board game fans, and brass is no exception. I love how minimal the game is. In a world of over-produced Kickstarter nonsense, a game with very few wooden pieces – let alone plastic – is wonderful. Using cardboard tiles and boats taken from thin card player mats, with a few orange and black cubes on the board, is like taking a step back 10 or 15 years into the Euro game renaissance. So much so that the little wooden beer barrels feel like an extravagance. In a game where being able to read the board state at a glance is vital, the lack of 3D pieces is clearly a design consideration and it’s one I appreciate.

Brass: Birmingham also scales really nicely for different player counts. It borrows a principle from Martin’s previous games such as Tinners’ Trail, where parts of the board are only really used in three- or four-player games. It keeps things tight and focused in a two-player game, resulting in a game which works nicely at two. I’m having trouble finding fault to balance this review with, to be honest with you. It’s quite a heavy game in terms of strategy and planning, but the game’s ease of learning belies this, resulting in a game like an ogre onion. The more you play, the more layers you uncover, resulting in a game you’ll come back to time and time again.

Essentially, I think every Euro game fan should own Brass: Birmingham. It’s due another print run at the time of writing, and the BGG #1 news has pushed prices up to crazy highs. It’s a thinner box than most, with a small number of components, so don’t pay through the nose just to get on board the hype tram. Be patient, and you’ll have one of the best games ever made for a fraction of the price of many recent Kickstarters. I love this game, and will never turn down a game. It’s simply wonderful.

Brass: Birmingham (2018)

Designers: Martin Wallace, Gavan Brown, Matt Tolman
Publisher: Roxley Games
Art: Lina Cossette, David Forest, Damien Mammoliti
Players: 2-4
Playing time: 90-120 mins

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Once bitten…

When I first heard that there was going to be a cardboard version of Anno 1800, I was equal parts excited and skeptical. I’ve see far too many terrible adaptations from one form of media to another to not assume the worst. Having Martin Wallace’s name on the box helped ease that worry though, as he’s responsible for some of the greatest games ever made (Brass: Birmingham, London, A Few Acres of Snow among others). Some of the things you do in the Anno games seem like a natural fit for a board game, like generating resources, and building. The exploration and expansion, not so much.

Despite my misgivings, I went out and bought it as soon as it was released. Don’t judge me, I’m weak. The first thing I should tell you is that it really does feel like an Anno game. Not only that, but it feels like Anno 1800, which is a game I’ve played a lot of on the PC. The game could easily have been called ‘Here’s a massive box of tiles’, because that’s what it is. There are a lot of tiles in the game, but more on that in a bit. The core of the game revolves around a concept of creating resources on your player board, and using them to upgrade and build new buildings (tiles) on that same board.

By the time you’ve played a few games, you could probably get a job in logistics somewhere. Supply chain management is what we’re dealing with here, it’s what all the cool kids are into. What starts off as a game of generating a few basic goods, slowly snowballs into an intricate machine, fine-tuned to produce those all-important victory points. These VPs come from a few different sources, including exploring the Old and New world, and enticing new citizens to your blossoming township.

Sandboxes

Plenty of games claim to offer a ‘sandbox’ experience, but very few truly deliver it. Having set victory conditions and round structure in a game will always mean it’s on-rails to some extent. This creates a problem when trying to recreate a sandbox-style game – a game just like the Anno series. Martin Wallace has done a great job in being able to capture the open-ended feel of Anno 1800, and creating a board game which feels familiar.

There are no rounds or phases during the game. The only game-ending condition is when a player plays the last card from their hand. That might sound like a definite line in the sand, but it isn’t, as you’re constantly drawing and playing cards. Far from being an easily observable event on the horizon, triggering the end of the game takes some deliberate planning. The fact that the end of the game is player-driven led to some concerns from the community, me included. If playing cards is how to score points, and playing your final card ends the game, why wouldn’t you just keep drawing and playing to amass a crazy number of points?

In some ways, it’s a valid concern. You can play that way if you want to, but the reality of it is that this doesn’t really happen. Sure, I’ve seen some games dragged-out longer than necessary, but the worry about it turning into a never-ending slog doesn’t materialise. There comes a point where you are happy with what you’ve created, and if that doesn’t happen for you, it will for someone else, and the game ends anyway.

Discovery

Anno 1800 is a game of discovery, and I’m not just talking about the way you can explore the Old and New World to add new lands to your player area. I’m talking about the way the systems click into place, and questions you’re asking yourself get answered as you play and experiment. For example, printed on your player board is a tile which produces bricks if you use red worker cubes. There’s another brick tile you can buy and add to your board which uses a different colour worker cube, and I remember thinking “Why would I ever want that one?”. Later in the game, due to the industries I’d built, I found myself really wanting that new tile.

That moment, when something clicks in your brain, is delightful. You can see the things you want on the table in front of you, like a tempting cardboard buffet, but you’re not sure how to get them. When you finally get the infrastructure right on your board, it’s like the pins in a tumbler lock lining up. Everything falls into place, and it’s so satisfying. There is so much to build and make that you can play it over and over, and approach it differently each time. The basic necessities underpinning everything are the same each time, but the different options open to you feel like a proper tech tree from a computer game.

How many…?

I want to talk about the components for a moment. I love the jigsaw-style main board, and the tiles that represent all of the buildings, boats, etc. are really well-made. But there are so many of them. The main board is a market to buy tiles from, and there are spots for 48 different kinds. That’s 48 individual piles of tiles on the board. FORTY-EIGHT. That’s in addition to the four decks of cards, the exploration tiles, the worker cubes, and the money tokens.

This shouldn’t be a problem, I’m reviewing the game after all, not the setup. It’s a genuine consideration though. Every time you set the game up, or pack it away afterwards, the tiles need sorting. Then you’re left with the choice of throwing them all in a big bag, like the world’s most bland pick-n-mix, or finding a ton of little baggies to sort them into. It became so annoying and time-consuming that I 3D-printed a box insert that doubles as a tile-holder.

Final thoughts

I’m very happy to be able to tell you that Anno 1800 is an excellent game. I love the Anno PC games, and really admire Martin Wallace’s games, so I worried I’d be disappointed. These franchise tie-ins seldom deliver something great, but Anno 1800 does that rarest of things, and delivers on its implied promises. Not only is it a great game, it also manages to feel like Anno 1800. It’s a heck of an achievement.

The number of tiles in the box bothers me, as you might have noticed. When you consider that the game on its own is going to take you a good couple of hours to play, the fiddliness of trying to place nearly 50 stacks of tiles on a board without much space between them is a pain. Definitely set this one up before people arrive for game night.

Anno 1800 is a pretty heavy game, and without the friendly easing-in that the video game gives by way of tutorials, it’s one which might be just too much for some people. Understanding how the various tiles and cards work together takes a little time, but it’s worth the investment. I’ve got other engine/tableau building games, but none feel quite like this. If you’ve got the three hours you’ll likely need to setup, play, and put the game away, Anno 1800 is very, very good. Another potential Martin Wallace classic, and a must for fans of the franchise.

Anno 1800 (2021)

Designer: Martin Wallace
Publisher: Kosmos Games
Art: Fiore GmbH
Players: 2-4
Playing time: 120 mins

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