KFC’s dating simulator skillfully toes the line between entertainment and advertising

Thoughts | Oliver Smith

The perfect man doesn’t exi-

Well, consider me smitten. With his cool eyes, silver hair, effortless cooking chops, evident passion, and relaxed demeanor, it’s hard to imagine a better candidate for the perfect man, save for the fact that he isn’t real. However, that didn’t stop me from playing KFC’s recently released dating simulator game, the goal of which is to pursue Colonel Sanders as a love interest.

The game is constructed as a visual novel which guides the player through culinary school. The whimsical plot line follows the young protagonist’s experience at the University of Cooking School, where the “villains,” Aeshleigh and Van Van, strive to make the player’s experience a kitchen nightmare. An adorable canine instructor, Professor Dog, attempts to control the chaos that ensues and judges cook-offs between the protagonist and Aeshleigh, the victor of which will ostensibly win Colonel Sanders’ heart.

Suitably, the real meat of the game consists of trying to woo the charismatic, tousle-haired Colonel. The story navigates this by using sometimes absurd dialogue options that lead the player to discover Colonel Sanders’ idiosyncrasies. Over the course of my playthrough, I cooked him meals like my delectable mac ‘n’ cheese and my grandma’s prized mashed potatoes recipe. The game designers weren’t exactly subtle in choosing real-life KFC side dishes as the protagonist’s recipes of choice.

Of course, this isn’t a game designed for the purpose of showcasing compelling storytelling, artful self-expression, or addictive gameplay mechanics. Take any screenshot of the game and you will immediately scoff at the banality of the marketing stunt. The Colonel explicitly advertises real-life KFC products, and even demonstrates enough self-awareness to poke fun at the ubiquity of KFC’s marketing.

However, Colonel Sanders’ plan is much more sinister than that. The game meticulously crafts a false sense of security into which the player can easily stumble. The designers make the protagonist generic enough to be ambiguously relatable, meaning any player can develop a connection with their character. This, combined with other mischievously distracting elements of the environment, creates an immersive atmosphere in which the player loses much of their agency, rendering the game a hyper-linear storyteller.

In fact, the passive nature of the simulator creates a captive audience that enables KFC to impose their perspective on the player. This is utilized to such an extent that I felt as if Colonel Sanders was vying for my love in a cool, aloof way. To put it bluntly, the game was playing me, and the only options were to love Colonel Sanders, and by extension KFC, or to lose.

Evidently, this reveals an intentional exploitation of the video game medium by KFC’s marketing team. By blurring the lines between art and advertising, the character Colonel Sanders takes advantage of the player’s perceived self-awareness and still impresses the importance of the brand into the player.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but KFC’s tactics worked, despite my best efforts. Within the hour-long span of the gameplay, I had begun to crave KFC, and the next day I bought some of the Colonel’s secret eleven-herbs-and-spices fried chicken for the first time in years. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t live up to my expectations, and it most certainly didn’t live up to the image presented in the game. To me, that demonstrates the undeniable influence of marketing, and the unique ways in which brands are seeking to condition the minds of consumers.

I’m regrettably curious to see what stunt KFC’s marketing managers conjure up next.