“Dan, you’re a pr*ck!” exclaimed Rob, angrily. Dan, with unnecessary glee, had decided to coup his remaining character. “Coup GJ. He’s still got both his cards”, Rob bleated. “I could”, Dan smiled, “but I’d rather hack at my -fill in eligible body part here- with a rusty spoon than let you win again”. Coup should come with a Parent Advisory sticker.
Coup is a short, intense, social deduction, elimination game -the last person with an active character wins, and assumes the god-given right to verbally, and non-verbally, abuse everyone else. If you game with people who like to blow off clouds of steam by engaging in largely harmless, adolescent ‘argy bargy’ then stop reading and shell out for Coup now. Alternatively, if my introduction is setting off alarm bells please read on and allow me to convince you that Coup is still a game that you’ll enjoy.
Let’s start with how we play Coup. Each player (6 is best, 4-5 is good) begins with two characters known to them but face down to everyone else. There are 5 characters in the game, each represented on 3 cards, each with a different skill or power. So it’s possible that two or even three of the same character are active at the same time. This mechanism is Coup’s superpower, allowing a number of players to claim that they control a particular character and use that power. And they may all be telling the truth, or they may be bluffing, or maybe double bluffing or maybe not, or maybe…
Opponents can challenge a claim if they have the metaphorical nuts! If successful one of that player’s characters becomes inactive. If unsuccessful, they have to deactivate one of their own characters. If a player can collect 7 or more coins they can declare a ‘coup’ and, with a broad grin, force an opponent to deactivate a character. If both a player’s characters are deactivated they are out! And that’s pretty much it.
Our first game on Friday started something like this; Nick-“I’m the Duke. 3 coins please”. Rick-“Well would you believe it, I’m the duke too. I’ll have 3 coins”. GJ “What a coincidence, I’m the Duke. 3 coins”. Dan-“Well, one of you is a lying – insert invective here- ‘cause I’m definitely the Duke. I’ll be having my 3 coins now.” Rob-“Bullsh*t-challenge him.” Peter-“Why don’t you challenge him, you stoneless -insert fruity adjective here-,” etc. etc. At our table a challenge always elicits some sort of noisy response. 15 minutes and a blizzard of c-bombs and other colourful vernacularisms later the game is over. And we always play just one more, and then another one after that and maybe another one after that one…
It’s surprising just how much fun and laughter Coup generates. It punches way above its weight. The tension that is built into a lot of bluffing games (I’m thinking of two more of my favourites, Cockroach Poker and Liar’s Dice) is amplified in Coup because players have only two characters to work with, so every bluff and every challenge is meaningful. There are even strategic and tactical decisions to be made. Play it a few times and you’ll discover these for yourselves.
I always ask Nathalie to review my blogs before I finalise them. Her critique of this review is that one might infer that Coup is for louts only. It’s not. But it is certainly the case that not everyone will enjoy Coup. If you do not enjoy games that encourage confrontation, bluffing and lying (Nathalie doesn’t) don’t buy this, unless as a gift for someone who does.
Somewhere back through the mists of time I recall reading Rikki Tahta’s designer notes where he said that Coup evolved over years of playing card games with his family. ‘Family’ is in the DNA of this game. It’s simple to learn, fast, engaging and is truly a 9-90 game. Removing the verbals that we relish does not diminish Coup, and non-louts enjoy it too. Coup is the definition of a big game in a small box, just handle with care. 😀
Yours,
Greame, (with 216 plays of Coup, as of last Friday).
