COLUMN: Video games join the retro revolution
Why do we love all things vintage?
Our capacity for video game graphics increases daily, and the gore of each new “Halo” or “Gears of War” game surpasses the last. Yet, more often than not, despite the new high-tech intensity, we find ourselves drawn back to the old school. Rather than explore the new, we prefer to return to the simple hero who embarks on a quest to save his one true love.
We’ve heard the story — in a hundred variations — since our childhood: a hero rises up from an unlikely place and embarks on a quest to protect the world from evil. For those of us who grew up on the Nintendo 64, Link and his Ocarina are part of our childhood, and — corny as it may sound — they inspire us. Mario may go to the wrong castle a hundred times, but we keep playing the original NES in hopes that he’ll eventually knock on the right door.
When you give a retro gift to someone, such as an old video game they would have played with when they were a child, you’re giving the gift of memories. Nostalgic gifts such as these remind people of simpler times, happy times and times when they were young and carefree and had a lot to look forward to.
We love retro gifts because they remind us of our youth. They remind us of how we used to be and of friends and family members who may no longer be around.
Nintendo has caught on to that nostalgia. That’s why there are two remakes of “Ocarina of Time”— one for the Wii and one for the DS. That’s also why “The Final Fantasy” games are about to max out the roman numerals system — I believe they are somewhere around XIXXXCIIIWTF. When they say “final” they never really mean it. Mario has killed Bowser so many times for Peach, one starts to wonder if such a high maintenance girl is really worth it.
We obviously love the remakes because they are selling even better than new original games, yet all of the remade games have almost the same storyline as the old. Take Zelda for example: a hero rises up from an unlikely place, takes up the hero’s sword from history, journeys across a road of trials, defeats some enormous monster — usually named Ganon — and then goes home.
In a way we are like little kids. We want to hear the same story told over and over again. A famous literature professor named Joseph Campbell came up with the theory that there is no such thing as an original story, but that all hero epics are just variations of one another. We mere mortals never tire of hearing this hero’s tale — regardless of what the hero’s name happens to be in a specific rendition.
Link is a perfect example of the Campbellian hero story, some literature professors might title him a Christ figure, for he does sacrifice himself to save the world. For the rest of us, who are less analytically, blasphemously inclined, Link is one studly elf, and we never tire of helping him save the universe from evil.
The point of all the analysis is this: there’s nothing wrong with playing different renditions of the same video game — it’s only human nature. Endorse those suppressed desires to save Princess Zelda. People have been dealing with some form of Zelda and Donkey Kong since ancient Norse times, according to Campbell — and he has a doctorate, so he must be right.
Whether it be the latest-and-greatest console, or your inherited 64, is irrelevant. What matters is there is a villain waiting to be defeated. The villain is a descendant of all the villains throughout literature and video gaming: be it Grendel, Sauron, Lex Luthor, Cinderella’s stepmother or Gannondorf.
So pick up a controller, throw your homework to the wind, and whether you are a gorilla or an elf, kick that villain’s trash.
– Evan Millsap is a staff writer for The Statesman and nostalgic for the old days of video gaming. Contact him at evan.millsap@aggiemail.usu.edu