Disclosure: Meeple Mountain received a free copy of this product in exchange for an honest, unbiased review. This review is not intended to be an endorsement.
Grandma’s Dominoes, But Make It Violent
Weast Coast Games has earned a reputation for uniquely crafted games. Though their catalog may not be plentiful, each title is a statement piece. This includes Desperate Oasis and their upcoming Fruit Boss card game. Snakes of Wrath is no exception to this trend.
At first glance, you may think, Wait, this is a board game? All I see is a bag full of dominoes! It belongs on a shelf at my grandmother’s house! Pull out the instruction manual, and based on the font design, you may also think, Wait, is this game 50 years old? The visual cues suggest an old-timey game, but it’s anything but.
Beyond this simple aesthetic is a strategic game with depth that will have you scoffing and smirking with each tile placement. This game is unmistakably cutthroat, and the box even warns that it may turn friends into enemies. It’s a fencing duel with traps and trickery, dripping with sabotage. If there were ever a game that could prompt the most expletives, it’s definitely this.
Watch out for the slippery snakes in the grass. They slither.
Anatomy of a Snake
Snakes of Wrath is played head-to-head (or in teams) to score 13 tiles first. Gameplay is simple and quick. Out of seven randomly drawn tiles, players place a tile, in turn order, to try to complete a snake for points. Each tile has a blue and red side, indicating which player the snake belongs to. “Body” pieces can be added to “head” pieces or added to existing bodies. A snake is considered “complete” when both ends are capped off with a head tile.
Additional tiles include “injured” body pieces that stop an opponent from continuing their build until healed, and the infamous Todd tile — a single, place-anywhere tile that is a complete snake on its own, scoring one additional point. We love Todd.
However, if your tile continues an opponent’s existing snake, then all segments of that snake flip over to your side, causing multiple curse words and maybe further anger.
Play continues in this tug-of-war fashion until one player hits the scoring threshold, crowning them the top snake (with hopes the friendship is still intact).
A Venomous Delight
Snakes of Wrath is unique in all the best ways. The stunning retro production already grabs attention and invites you into a parlor game that is anything but. The simple gameplay is easy to grasp, but the tactical decisions add real depth. Sitting and thinking about the next move reminds me of my days playing in chess tournaments, trying to figure out what my opponent was plotting. And because the tiles come in a variety of shapes, you (or your opponent) might not have the right piece at the right time to make that perfect move. Having some agency—but not total control—makes some turns deeply satisfying, while others are throwaways in hopes of drawing a tile that better fits the master plan.
The flipping of tiles between players is pure chaos. There’s a constant feeling of dread with each placement as I build my snake, knowing that at any moment, my opponent can steal the entire thing from under me. It becomes a race to cap off your snakes as quickly as possible, just so the other player can’t snake them away. Add in the injury tiles, and the steady build can be stopped dead in its tracks. To recover, you must play a healthy tile that matches the body shape exactly. For all you know, those tiles could already be gone from the bag, leaving that route abandoned. The opportunity for sabotage lurks around every corner of this tile train, and the anticipation is both a source of stress and glee. It’s a recipe for the most cutthroat of games, and it’s a blast.
But because it’s so cutthroat, it may be off-putting for some, especially when most tile-laying games lean friendly. The box does give a warning; the designers know exactly what they’ve created. It’s not something I’d play with my wife, lest I sleep on the couch, but when I want to (indirectly) punch my friends in the face, I’ll turn to the snakes.
In a game with such simple gameplay, you might think it could become repetitive, but with so much forced pivoting, I don’t see that happening too often. It lasts about 20 to 30 minutes, making it easy to reset and play again.
A small gripe is the constant flipping of tiles. Because it can happen back-to-back, it can get a bit annoying and sometimes cause a mess. But how else can you rub it in their faces that you’re stealing their snake?
The alternative title for the game is The Serpent’s Gambit, which is fitting, as each tile placement is a risky gamble. And while I don’t always want something this cutthroat, I know the snakes will be waiting to strike from a handsome bag of chunky domino tiles. Here’s hoping you still have a friend in the end. If not, you’ll always have Todd.
