Flego. That’s the disparaging term our household long used for plastic bricks not made by the leading Danish brand, but often available online for a fraction of the price. No sooner would Lego release a new set than Chinese manufacturers like Lepin would reveal they’d long had their photocopiers fired up. They’d churn out their own versions, barely concealing wanton IP infringement by way of cunning ‘rebrands’ like the infamous ‘Star Wnrs’ universe. And you got what you paid for. The minifigs were janky. The bricks were sometimes worse. Parts were often missing – as were any instruction manuals.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, these companies regularly pilfered designs from custom builders, lifting efforts from BrickLink and passing them off as their own. It was all a bit grim. Unsurprisingly, Lego eventually took aim, catapulting lawyers Lepin’s way. Several warehouse raids later and the problem was at least addressed – even if cloning never entirely stopped. Unfortunately, this episode also meant the reputation of Chinese plastic brick companies as a whole took a battering. That’s a shame, because a handful do things properly – to the level Lego itself should once again be worried, albeit for very different reasons than before.
Bright ideas
I’ve been aware of Lumibricks for some time. Jangbricks, aka the world’s finest YouTuber reviewing brick-based construction toys, has covered the brand on his Other Bricks channel. It’s been fascinating to watch Lumibricks hone its craft, seemingly on fast forward. Rather than cloning Lego, Lumibricks (including in its previous incarnation as Funwhole) seems obsessed with doing its own thing. That means original designs, original parts and innovations Lego simply doesn’t attempt.
The clue is in the ‘Lumi’ part of the name – a play on ‘luminescence’. In other words, Lumibricks sets light up. But it’s more than that. The company experiments with diverse themes, including an utterly bonkers steampunk line featuring a stompy moving castle. There are no stickers either – all decorations are parts with prints. And while Lego modular buildings typically require you to lift off entire floors to access their interiors, Lumibricks often lets you remove walls or slide out interior modules. For example, you can remove the shop floor of a record store to more easily gawp at the tiny diorama.
Build Runner
Despite my terrifyingly large Lego guilt pile, I’ve long been tempted by Lumibricks. The steampunk range nearly tipped me over the edge, but when the Blade Runner 2049 spinner was announced, that was it. I’d wanted a brick-built version of such a vehicle for ages and had planned on building a custom model. But the Lumibricks take looked superb and had lights. Although it also had a weird not-minifig, presumably because Lego’s legal department still guards that element of the company’s brick kingdom with particular zeal. Still, you can’t have everything.
I wasn’t sure what to expect. But the set arrived within days of ordering direct, in a swish box. Inside was a chunky instruction manual easily on a par with Lego’s own, and with in-universe storytelling and brick-built scenes. And the model? That’s excellent too. Even the derpy minifig isn’t too bad, thanks to his faux-leather coat. But the car is fantastic: solid, swooshable, cleverly designed and great on display. When it lit up the first time, so did I.
You might still grumble at any company making Lego-compatible bricks. Most Lumibricks pieces look like Lego’s, even if their designs don’t. Then again, Lego ‘borrowed’ the entire concept from Kiddicraft in the first place. So, no, I won’t suddenly start buying knock-off Lego Millennium Falcons. But Lumibricks sets? I’ll be buying more of them, unless Lego ups its game.
I bought K’s Spinner direct from Lumibricks, where it’s priced at $51/£38. It’s also available on Amazon US at time of writing for $40. Look around before you buy, though – Lumibricks does constant sales and you’ll usually get at least 10% off.
