Monikers Review – The Smartest Way to Act Completely Stupid

Monikers, designed by Alex Hague, Justin Vickers, is one of the funniest party games I own. It’s loud, clever, occasionally inappropriate, and almost guaranteed to leave someone looking like a goldfish gasping for air on the floor.

It blends the best bits of Taboo, Codenames, and Charades into a three-round team game that gets funnier with each round. Add in pop culture references, internet memes, and the occasional cheeky adult prompt, and you’ve got a game that thrives on inside jokes and escalating chaos.

I’ve brought Monikers out time and time again, and without fail the room ends up in hysterics. I’ve become a full-blown evangelist for it, recommending it to anyone who’ll listen. And yet, for all the laughter, it’s not a guaranteed hit for every group.

How to play

Monikers is a team-based party game, so start by splitting into two roughly even teams. Each player is dealt several prompt cards and secretly chooses the ones they know, recognise, or think will be funniest to act out later. Once everyone has contributed, you’ll have a curated deck of around 40 to 50 prompts. That’s your play pile.

The game then unfolds over three rounds. In each round, teams alternate taking two-minute turns. During a turn, one player becomes the clue giver, taking centre stage while their teammates try to guess as many cards as possible before the timer runs out.

If the team guesses correctly, they keep the card and the points it’s worth, then move straight on to the next one. If they get stuck, the clue giver can pass, but that card stays in the deck and will almost certainly come back to haunt someone later.

When the two minutes are up, whatever cards remain are handed to the other team. Once the deck runs out completely, the round ends. Count the points earned so far (and write them down somewhere), then shuffle the same deck, and go again.

That’s the core loop. However, each round restricts how you can give clues.

Round One: Almost anything goes, as long as you don’t say the name on the card. You can talk, sing, gesture, dance, make ridiculous noises, whatever works.

Round Two: One word only. No elaboration. No sneaky follow-up clues.

Round Three: Pure charades. No talking at all.

After that, whoever has the most points wins. But in Monikers, the score is rarely what people remember.

Why Monikers gets funnier every round

Introducing the game by mentioning memes and innuendos is accurate, but it doesn’t do Monikers any favours. So let me put your fears to rest. This is not just another Cards Against Humanity clone.

It’s closer to a mix of internet trivia and a memory game. You’ll go through the same deck of prompts multiple times. The first time through, nobody really knows what’s on the cards, so you rely on outside knowledge and quick thinking. But after that first pass, the game changes. Instead of guessing blindly, you’re relying on your memory of prompts you’ve already seen.

This is why Monikers stands head and shoulders above its inspirations. Instead of forcing people to guess something they’ve never heard of, you’re trying to trigger a recent memory. That makes it much easier to guide your team toward the answer, while still giving you that satisfying feeling of being clever when someone connects the dots.

By the time you reach the third round, the table has usually developed a whole collection of weird prompts and inside jokes for the cards.

For example, we had the card Bubble Boy, the character from Seinfeld, and I mimed someone stuck in a hamster wheel. My team didn’t guess it. Later, the clue giver on the other team got the exact same card and mimed the exact same thing.

It was already a ridiculous thing to mime, but the real joke was how instantly recognisable it had become.

As a quick aside, if your group burns through the deck like mine did, don’t worry. Monikers has picked up several expansions over the years, including Monikers-er, that packs the same ridiculous energy into a small travel-friendly box.

Monikers is like sliding into a steaming spa

Monikers is a fantastic, smart game about wonderfully dumb topics. The rules are so easy to explain that you barely have to teach it before people start playing. In fact, you don’t even have to mention the word charades until the third round, which is excellent because it hides the small detail that someone is eventually going to have to mime Alex Trebek without a moustache.

Like any game that asks people to act ridiculous in front of their friends, there’s always a little trepidation at the table. Nobody wants to be the first person to make a fool of themselves. Thankfully, Monikers saves the charades for the final round, giving everyone time to get comfortable with the cards, the jokes, and each other before the real embarrassment begins.

That said, this still won’t work for every group. If someone absolutely hates performing or drawing attention to themselves, Monikers can feel a little confronting.

Another potential downside is the game’s reliance on contemporary pop culture. The cards are filled with modern figures, internet jokes, and cultural references. That’s fantastic for most groups today, but it also means the game will inevitably date itself.

Growing up, I hated playing Trivial Pursuit because half the questions were aimed at people three times my age. When I didn’t know who won the 1963 World Series or which famous festival happened in 1972, it wasn’t because I was bad at trivia. Those things just happened long before I was around. Monikers will probably feel the same way to future players.

But when you have the right group around the table, none of that really matters. Monikers works best with close friends, plenty of energy, and maybe a six-pack of your favourite beer nearby.

With that in mind, Monikers is easily the funniest party game I own. The last time we played, my voice was still hoarse the next morning.