| The Spin, 3/31/99: Primitive Addiction Why I'm Into Retro Gaming Mason McCuskey, Spin Studios I�ve been bitten by the retro gaming bug. It�s degenerated into a full-fledged addiction. A few months ago I used hundreds (yes, hundreds) of my own hard-earned dollars to eBay a NES system, complete with 50 classic games. All of my favorites � Zelda, Metroid, Blaster Master, Solar Jetman - you name it, it was in the package. I was excited. Retro gamers are quick to point out that the best gameplay is found between the birth of the industry and the release of id�s Wolfenstein 3D � and the UPS guy had just delivered to me a veritable treasure trove of 1980s gaming goodness. I unplugged my PlayStation, carefully screwed the RF-adapter into the back of my TV, turned off the lights, grabbed a two liter Coke from the fridge, unplugged the phone, and prepared to venture back in time. When I tell people this story, they usually ask me something like, "Mason, why on God�s green earth would you pay hundreds of dollars for old games, when you could have Half-Life for $50?" Well, here�s the answer. First of all, it�s not why you think - beating most of these 8-bit classics isn�t nearly as exciting the second time around. Sure, I remember the enemies, but they just don�t instill the awe and fear in me that they used to. Sure, I remember how great the music was, but it seems primitive now. Maybe I�ve grown up, or maybe I�ve just been spoiled by 32-bit TrueColor and 16-bit, 44,100 kHz sound. Whatever the reason, old games aren�t fun the same way new ones are. I don�t mean gameplay � in many cases, gameplay on these older titles is very similar to the latest FPS. What people don�t seem to understand is that I, like most retro gamers, care about much more than just the gameplay. I care about the games AS A WHOLE � I care about every pixel, every note, every sound effect, and all 16 of the colors. Every last bit on the ROM chips. But the main thing I care about is something that�s not even in the cartridge. I play retro games to remember how things were. There�s lots of memory tucked away in these games, and some of those memories come back as I play. They�re fun to look at and remember where the industry has come from. I laugh at their cheesy music, roll my eyes at their storylines, pour over their old instruction booklets, and in the process, I remember old friends, old stories � the endless nights of questing to beat Ganon, Mother Brain, or Bowser - and I smile. For me, that�s how retro gaming is fun. And don�t be fooled - the only way you can truly duplicate the genuine experience is to dig up the old hardware and turn it on. Emulators can come close, but even the best emulators can�t mimic the feel of a NES Advantage (and even the best emulators can�t make playing captured NES ROM images legal. Take note: if you play games on Nesticle, you�re breaking copyright law, and violating some game developer�s copyright is not a very good way to pay tribute to their genius. Not to mention, you know, that whole felony and prison thing). To truly unlock the memories of retro games, you�ve got to have the hardware. That�s where the memories are. Investors: buy an 8-bit system now � in 20 years, you�ll sell it at ten times cost. Memories are also the reason behind why the modern counterparts of Asteroids and Centipede aren�t as popular as they theoretically should be. No matter how hard you try, and how many features you add, you just can�t derive a game that�s more fun to me than the classic, because my memories are still with the classic. It�s like seeing the movie of a book you loved � no matter how talented the filmmaking, the book was better, because your mind has wrapped itself around the book�s characters, and refuses to allow any intrusion by the new guys. In a way, I feel sorry for the designers tasked with remaking an old game. Granted, designing a remake must be loads of fun, but it�s fun that comes with a price. Designing a remake of your favorite classic game must be similar to marrying a widow � no matter how hard you try, you can never quite live up to the original. This means that as much as I want to, I can�t blame the designers for making a remake that�s not as much fun as the classic. If the designer did the best job possible, and you can�t figure out anything that�s noticeably wrong with the work, and yet the game still isn�t fun, then something external is entering the equation: your memories. That�s why I get angry when some self-proclaimed retro gamer wannabe slams a remake of a game as "not as much fun as the original." Of course it won�t be as much fun as the original, but that�s not the game�s fault. That�s your bias. The original version of Psycho will always be better than the remake, if for no other reason than the original came first. You can play the old, and play the new, but don�t compare the new to the old. Nostalgia dictates that the old will always win. That�s really what I�m talking about here � what retro gaming strives to do is recreate the original experiences. It�s just like watching old movies. Who cares if they�re black and white (or 16 colors)? Who cares if the film is scratchy (and the game is buggy?) The point is to dig up the memories. That�s why the new remakes quite often don�t sell well. I don�t want new 3D graphics on Frogger, or 50 different powerups on Asteroids � I just want the original. So I say "bring on the 8-bit games!" Deluge me with crappy visuals. Let the stupid sine-wave music and the weird sound effects flow freely through my surround sound system. Let my poor hands contort as they wrestle with the inferior controls. Let my big-screen HDTV display 500x500, 16 color graphics. Just don�t forget the Coke |