Digital Entertainment is More Nostalgia-Fueled Than Ever
Players are increasingly seeking out the video game equivalent of comfort food
Rather than creating new and original art in any medium, the 2000s have become a generation of reusing franchises, sticking to stories and characters that people know and love. Instead of original IP, it’s more popular to see yet another Batman movie or a remake of an ‘80s horror flick. The 21st century is about regurgitating the aesthetics of past decades and labeling them as “retro,” and consumers eat it up.
Lately, it seems like every player is hoping for a remaster, remake, or even just a simple port of the most beloved games from their childhood. This trend is happening all over the gaming industry: Skyrim is ported to every console possible, the Halo franchise was offered the Master Chief Collection to bundle the best that the series has to offer, and rumors of a Mass Effect trilogy remaster have all but been confirmed. People want to stick to an IP they know and love, like Final Fantasy VII, rather than risk their time and money on something foreign to them.
But perhaps Nintendo is one of the biggest publishers that creates new titles on tried-and-true formulas that have been utilized for dozens of years in addition to repetitive ports of games deemed nostalgic by ‘90s babies. Though three and a half decades isn’t necessarily a big milestone, Nintendo absolutely used it as a money grab by releasing the Super Mario 3D All-Stars triple-threat package along with several other remakes and ports from the Mario franchise. Critics boast scores averaging around 8.5 but point out a blemish found in one of the three games: Super Mario Sunshine.
It’s criticized for its funky controls and finicky F.L.U.D.D. mechanics, making some chunk of the game frustrating to push through. But this isn’t how we remember the game. In fact, official reception of the 2002 title show near if not perfect ratings, and as the only of the three titles to not have received a port to another console, many players were looking forward to the opportunity to play it more than Super Mario 64 or Galaxy. We’ve been coveting the chance ever since rumors of Super Mario Switch ports came about earlier this year. Super Mario 3D All-Stars made minimal graphical and technical enhancements, and while both critics and fans have agreed that the games still remain enjoyable to play, their age undoubtedly shows.
Still, we want to play Sunshine, clunky mechanics and all. Why?
Searching for the answer to this question, I took to a game that will never see a remake but built the foundation for a long line of successful and renowned Nintendo games. At six years old, after rerenting Animal Crossing from Blockbuster (R.I.P.) numerous times and finally getting my own copy of the game, I must have poured upwards of a hundred hours into the sim on my GameCube. Alongside Sunshine, Super Smash Bros. Melee, and Wind Waker, Animal Crossing became a bookmark of my childhood. So when New Horizons was announced for the Switch, I lost my marbles in excitement.
Though many installments have released in between, I decided to boot up Animal Crossing and compare it after nearly 300 hours of gameplay in New Horizons to find the origins of the nostalgic feeling many gamers are looking to relive time and time again. But after finally paying off my first round of loans, I can honestly say that it’s clear the first installment, though it created a unique framework for an adorable social sim, isn’t the icon players have come to know and love. And yet, between writing these sentences, I find myself going back to play just another few minutes, to catch just one more fish or pay off another thousand bells of my next loan. Why?
On our way to our newest town, we’re greeted by Rover on the train. After he sets us up with a new town name as well as our own, which are just about the only elements we can control off the bat, we’re thrown into this grungy shack we call home and are asked to pay off nearly 20,000 bells in debt by a young Tom Nook. Of course, we start off with no money, but bells are far more difficult to come by than in the most recent installment, where players quickly paid off millions of bells by pairing the Stalk Market with Discord servers. Playing the original, I wasn’t able to get any tool other than a shovel for about two weeks, so I resorted to becoming a simple peach salesman to pay off the majority of my debt. The modest income of a farmer isn’t much, so suffice to say that it took some time.
When New Horizons released amidst a global pandemic, a common point of interest, in addition to the neo-social aspect that brought friends together in a difficult time, was the escapism provided. Critics noted not only how Animal Crossing brandishes capitalism in its most innocently perfect form, but how nice to the player all the villagers are. While many might remember animal friends who are just happy to see your face, this isn’t true of older titles in the franchise. It’s pretty hilarious seeing the progression that nearly two decades have done to a series because, in the original Animal Crossing, the NPCs are actually pretty mean. After attempting to deliver an item to a villager who isn’t yet awake at 11AM and being told to “buzz off” by their front door, I got scolded by Tom Nook for taking so long on my assignment. And don’t forget about Resetti, an angry fictional animal who has no impact on my real life but certainly gave me real anxiety as a child.
There are several other small aspects that I had forgotten about over the years, like only being able to donate three fossils per day — any more and they would disappear into the void of the Post Office — and doing so by mailing them to the Museum, which requires purchasing and writing individual letters for each. Also, the HRA will mail you each time you boot up the game rather than on a monthly basis to judge your brand new household. Better yet, until you upgrade past your first loan, they’ll keep reminding you that your house “is too small to have a pleasant layout,” which is very rude to the poor working class, a.k.a. my Animal Crossing self.
But despite all the complaints that I came up with when comparing it to its much more technologically advanced counterpart, I still found myself addicted to an outdated game that had come out 18 years ago. Why is it that gamers are still tied to old titles, knowing that they won’t live up to modern technology and advancements, and ask for even so little as a mere port on the newest console? They don’t hold up to 21st-century gaming and we’re bound to be reminded of the clunky mechanics and dated gameplay, but we crave them anyway. Why?
Because we want to relive our childhoods. Because stepping back into older, simpler times — like being a kid again — is escapism in of itself. Sequels are great; of course, we’re looking forward to games like Breath of the Wild 2 and Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity. But the chance to relive the innocent joy we felt when we were six years old by playing a game that we’re sentimentally attached to, even if it means a game isn’t as good as we remember it, acts as a cure for homesickness. Sure, I can’t hit rocks for money for quick cash, but I was delighted to see NPCs who have been filtered out over the years, like the sweet Pelly at the Post Office and the dogs guarding the Police Station, which is really just a lost-and-found. Yeah, Mario’s flimsy movements often result in spewing water in every direction I’m trying not to get it, but Isle Delfino offers a charmingly jovial atmosphere with a unique premise. Though we may grow up and change, video games act as a time capsule to bring us back to the raw joy we experienced as children.
