One day, video game critics and journalists will put together a comprehensive study on the impact Balatro had on the industry — of how so many games that came after tried to capture its essence by adding complex systems to otherwise simple, easily understood games. Until then, I’m gonna play Dogpile.
Dogpile is a deckbuilding match-3 roguelike that builds on the style of merge games like Suika Game by adding a Balatro-like twist. The result is a cute, cozy (in both genre and vibe) game that appeals to both the numbers-go-up and the dog-loving sicko in me. Drop matching dogs on top of each other to create bigger dogs that reward you with points to unlock higher levels. The smallest unit of dog is a Chihuahua, two Chihuahuas merge to form a Pomeranian (at least that’s what I think it is), and so forth. The dogs pile up the playing field kinda like Tetris, and also like Tetris, if the dogs spill over the top of the field, it’s game over.
Merging dogs is the simplest part of the game. It’s where the player has the least control — everything is subject to the whims of gravity, physics, and trajectory — but also where Dogpile is the most thrilling. The dogs themselves are cute, contorted into fun, confounding shapes that sometimes show off a butthole or two. Introducing modifiers like making the dogs bouncy or magnetic adds an interesting physical component to the game — Dogpile is match-3 Tetris, yes, but built with a physics engine. It feels so silly, so “baby distracted by jangling keys” to say that a pug glomming onto another pug to make a dachshund is gameplay action worth highlighting in the year of our gaming lord 2025. But the little guy does so with a satisfying “pop” accompanied by a cute little “arf” that like Benoit Blanc, I’m compelled.
Though the game has nothing to do with poker, you can see the DNA of Balatro running throughout. Like Balatro, each round you’re dealt a hand from a deck of cards that have dogs as the different suits. Also like Balatro, you get money to spend on modifying your deck with more cards and tags that work similar to Balatro’s jokers. For $15 (of in-game money, there are no microtransactions), you can either buy a chow chow card or a tag that makes certain dogs spin in place to agitate the dog pile for more merging opportunities. When you win a round, you also visit the grooming salon where you modify your dog cards directly. You can give a dog positive traits like “friendly,” making them magnetically attracted to their matches. Or you can wash away negative traits like fleas, which negate any positive traits a card might have.
Building your dog deck full of synergies to increase your points is where Dogpile is the most like Balatro and where the bulk of your strategic thinking comes into play. I like to give my dogs the barking trait that makes them disturb the pile with a bark when they’re dropped. That combined with the tag that awards points every time a dog barks makes for a brain-pleasing display of meters filling up and cash register noises going off that really drives home the fact that a lot of these well-intentioned, celebrated Balatro-likes tap into the psychology of gambling addition to make them stick.
Dogpile doesn’t feel very deep. There are no boss challenges. Failing to meet the point threshold doesn’t end a run, but instead makes you pick from a stock of negative events or traits that are either easily ignored or so detrimental that you lose the game immediately. Unlike Balatro, Dogpile doesn’t inspire the same feeling of endless possibility of the kinds of decks you can build.
Dogpile isn’t the first game to complexify the humble match-3 genre, and I don’t know if its similarities to Balatro are intentional or not. But I like seeing how games can push Balatro’s formula beyond poker — especially if a dog is involved.
And yes, you can pet them.
Dogpile is out now on Steam.
