Preservation Through Exploitation

It was a chilly fall afternoon, the snow had set in early and I found myself once again browsing the PSN looking for games to buy. It’s not that I needed a game or even wanted one but I was bored and spending money always seems like the right thing to do while bored. After perusing the standard sections like the PlayStation minis and the DLC I inevitably ended up in the classics section. Now I usually avoid the classics section seeing as how these “classics” are games that I played less than a decade ago. It was my impression that “classic” meant something written by the Greeks 2500 years ago, but I hadn’t opened the dictionary in a while so who was I to judge.  Misguided definitions aside, I browsed the section until something caught my eye; a game. Well, it wasn’t just a game. It was the mother of all games, the birth of a genre; the epitome of perfection amongst games. The mere notion that I wasn’t playing it at that moment was an insult to all gamers around the globe. It was Resident Evil, the original Resident Evil for the PlayStation. Memories poured over me. Images of shotguns and headless zombies filled my mind. I could smell the rotting flesh of the zombies. I could feel the warm pee drip down my leg as the zombie dogs jumped through the windows. Now this, this was a classic.

I snapped out of my nostalgia induced coma long enough to realize that I could be playing the game, right there and then through the magic of the PSN. I needed no convincing. I reached for my wallet, grabbed my credit card and feverishly began typing in my digits, begging the large black box to take my money and to give me that sweet, sweet game. It wasn’t until I had to confirm my purchase that it hit me. “Wait!” the voice inside my head exclaimed, “You own this game.” That’s right. I did own the game. I had bought it years before for the PlayStation. Why didn’t I remember it earlier? I even still had that PlayStation and a memory card to go along with it. It was all so simple. How could I be so blind?

I leaped off the couch and headed over to my video game rack. It was sorted alphabetically, a trick any self-respecting gamer knows, so finding the old PlayStation game would be simple. I filed down the line until I came across the Resident Evil section. My fingers were tingling with anticipation, the drool in my mouth comparable to that of a zombie dog staring at a reloading Jill.  But then something happened. I looked for the small jewel case with the words “Resident Evil” typed down the side but it wasn’t there. Well it may have been. There were too many games to tell. There was the Resident Evil remake for the GameCube, Resident Evil: Archives (the remake for the Wii), Resident Evil: Deadly Silence (the remake for the DS), and Resident Evil: Director’s Cut. Down at the end of the line there was the original but by then it didn’t matter. It hit me. I owned 5 versions of the exact same game. I had been conned into buying the same game for the past 13 years (and I hadn’t bought the PC or Sega Saturn versions). I had given more than $225 to Capcom for the same recycled crap. Not only that but I was two seconds away from giving away another fifteen of my hard earned dollars.  Question raced through my head. How could a company get away with this? How as a consumer could I be so blind? But the biggest question that arose was how could anyone be worried about preserving old games when they are constantly being remade, recycled, and re-skinned to squeeze out a few more dollars from us poor consumers?

Now, Resident Evil doesn’t exactly have a monopoly on the porting and remaking business strategy. Countless games and companies take their old game, throw some new features in, add a subtitle, and release it in time for Christmas. It is a tried and true strategy. They are cheaper to make, they have an established audience, and they are able to capture a new market from their existing reputation. It isn’t rocket science. We don’t need to preserve these old games. The market is doing it for us.

As companies release newer and newer versions of their same games they are preserving their place in history. The old audience that played the game fell in love with it, and lost sleep over it is now able to transfer that love and passion to the next generation. Availability through the virtual marketplace is allowing for easy access to genre defining games that every gamer should have the chance to play and enjoy. This, combined with the reduced price of older games, encourages new gamers to pick up the oldies and see what all the hype is about. The withstanding reputation of the classics is enough to incentivize the buyer to spend $20 on an established classic rather than gamble on a $60 new game.  These new players will in turn fall in love with the games and 10 years down the line will reminisce about the glorious times they had playing Chrono Trigger or the original Mario that they conveniently downloaded off of the Nintendo eShop.  Nintendo will then continue their trend and release these games again either with enhanced graphics or at a steep discount and the cycle will continue.

It is true that someday that the classics may reach their limit. The graphics may become so dated that future gamers refuse to touch them. They may not be able to support the new telepathy based controls or even the 4D televisions but that does not mean they will die out.  Take for example games such as Sonic 4 or Megaman 9. These are not remakes of old games. They are new games based on classic game mechanics that are still able to capture modern audiences. Sonic as a franchise was only able to find real success by falling back on its classic gameplay and combining it with its newer mechanics in Sonic Generations.  These old games will be preserved through their mechanics and play styles and not just through their endless porting. These remakes and revamps of old games are creating a standard for gameplay that will be taught to new game developers. These developers will use the old mechanics to develop their next generation games and the games will live on through these new games. The longer the old games get ported and remade, the longer they will be around to inspire and define the next generation of developers.  Unfortunately, this will not preserve all games.

Realistically, most games are doomed to be forgotten.  My Little Pony: Pinkie Pie’s Party is probably not going to make it to the 3Ds but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Games that the market does not deem important enough to remember are often games that aren’t worth remembering. Where we as game preservers need to take action is in the cult hits and underappreciated games that had a huge impact on the games we play today. Maniac Mansion, Dig-Dug, or even some of the earliest text based adventures like Adventure may not last the test of time without our help. They don’t have the reputation for the free-market to keep them afloat so it is to these titles that we should devote our resources. The free-market will handle the rest like it has done for XCOM, Deus Ex, and the eight more Resident Evil remakes to come.

Owen Leach is currently a master’s student at Worcester Polytechnic Institute working towards a degree in Interactive Media and Game Development with a focus in serious gaming. Before his time at WPI he worked for two years in the indie game industry as lead producer and designer for his company Bomb Shelter Games. Forced to place his company on hiatus to pursue his studies, he plans on returning to the industry with a new focus in serious gaming. A strong advocate for games that promote social change, he believes that games can be used to create awareness and solve many of the problems that plague the world today.