This Sims-style strategy game comes off as cold and mechanical, capturing none of the devil-may-care attitude you'd expect and casting Hef's idyllic lifestyle as a hollow grind.
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Is Hugh Hefner really this bad in bed? I'd always thought of him as the ultimate, well, playboy—the guy any woman would get down with if she had the chance. But seeing his uncreative ways with the ladies in this game (sure, he can go for hours, but it's short, repetitive, and the girl does all the work...typical!) ruined Hef for me. Shooting centerfolds and putting together a magazine is halfway interesting, but the gameplay is nothing more than a third-rate Sims clone.
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Bazookas, torpedoes, cannon balls—Playboy: The Mansion has more big guns than the Metal Gear Solid and Splinter Cell series squeezed lusciously together, and you can ogle these biological weapons at will. Thing is, Playboy wants you to like it for its mind as well as its bodies, putting you in the pj's of Hugh Hefner, randy boobmaster general of a magazine empire. That means R-rated fornicatin' takes a backseat to hiring staff, assigning stories, throwing parties, making friends, and snapping photos—repetitive tasks so clinical you'll never need a cold shower.
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Ask any pornography-reading, red-blooded American male if he's ever fantasized about being Hugh Hefner, the founder of Playboy, and there's a good chance he'll say yes. The parties, the women, and the savoir faire.who else encapsulates both the dual fantasies of a hedonistic lifestyle and the American dream of self-made success so perfectly?
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