Dinosaur Island review: Get Jurassic on your theme park!

Fallout, Star Wars, and The Godfather all became board games—why not Jurassic Park? That appears to have been the question asked by Pandasaurus Games, the publisher behind Dinosaur Island.

“Wait a second,” you say, “Dinosaur Island does not actually use the Jurassic Park brand.” That’s true; however, you don’t have to squint hard to imagine Richard Attenborough on the game’s cover or to soak in the overwhelming ‘90s vibes. This may not be a Jurassic Park board game in name, but it’s certainly one in spirit.

Who doesn’t want to run their own dinosaur theme park? This streamlined Euro-style design has players acquiring electrified paddocks, filling them with bright pink dinosaur meeples, and raking in wheelbarrows of cash. You’ll attain different strands of DNA to complete recipes and craft pre-historic beasts. Sometimes your security won’t be up to snuff and a guest or two may get eaten. No worries, though; your PR firm will smooth things out.

Dinosaur Island hasn’t been out long, but it has already achieved extraordinary success. In addition to massive funding in two Kickstarter campaigns, the game sold through its first print run in retail at the pace of a striking velociraptor. With expansions and a two-player spinoff on the horizon, this island is only getting started.

Bones of the past

Dinosaur Island is a gangly Brachiosaurus of a game as it spreads across your table and claims a healthy amount of real estate. Despite a wild sprawl of side boards, card decks, and player mats, it’s a surprisingly simple design that’s easily digested. In particular, the game borrows mechanisms from Euro-style predecessors featuring worker placement and public drafting.

Credit: Charlie Theel

The flow of Dinosaur Island is not altogether smooth as it jumps from phase to phase, with each phase composed of unique rules and processes. On an individual basis, each phase is simple enough to foster quick learning. This light overall weight allows players of varying skill levels to dive in, gradually reconciling the different ways each phase of the game intersects with the others.

The first phase is the most straightforward as you spend scientists to claim strands of DNA or acquire new recipes to manufacture your carnivores and herbivores. There’s a continual philosophy here of introducing small twists to keep things just interesting enough; this phase is all about utilizing randomized DNA via rolled dice, as well as apportioning workers with different values to each player. (Your scientists are numbered 1-3 and serve as a multiplier when utilized to acquire DNA or as a necessary requirement to select the more costly dinos and paddocks.)

This is absolutely a resource-management game. You’re filling your cold storage with different genetic strands (resource one) in order to construct dinos (resource two) that require ample paddock space and security. You’re using these once-extinct predators to attract patrons (resource three) and score victory points based on filling up your park.

One of the key phases of Dinosaur Island is the public market, where you’ll purchase park attractions, buy modules for your lab, and hire specialists who grant asymmetrical powers. These critical decisions feed resource acquisition and conversion heading into phase three. Since much of the game lies in virtually identical inputs and outputs that result in mathematically narrow swings, the selection of these modules is a large differentiator in player builds and downstream effects. While the DNA and dinosaur birthing is a prime attention getter, choices about upgrades and supplementary attractions such as Ferris wheels and hat stands prove significant.

The third phase happens simultaneously as players utilize workers in their personal labs to spend that precious DNA and tinker with their park options. You can increase your security level, gain supplementary income, or increase the size of your existing paddocks. It all happens quickly and keeps downtime minimal as play rapidly shifts into the park phase.