It took a bizarre detached contemplation while at my desk to come to the conclusion that I am not a very nostalgic person. I was ever so sure of my words that I deemed it appropriate to flag down our lecturer and explain as such to him, but I would like to say that I am awfully sorry, James, but I am afraid I lied to you.
Once it triggered in my brain that
Bulletstorm (one of my most enjoyed and gushed over games of 2011) evoked these foreign-seeming feelings, it all became apparent. The reason behind this is that guiding Grayson Hunt through his foul-mouthed, hyperviolent romp of an adventure reminded me of the anarchy that
Serious Sam pulled off so damn well in the late 90s; recollections of enjoying FPS when I was younger had endeared the game to me. I had an urge to draw crossover fanart of Grayson Hunt, Sam Stone and Duke Nukem drinking beers with Doomguy while mouthing off and waving their machismo around. Is this what nostalgia is? As I came to terms with this, I considered how some of my favourite games fondly throw back to the games and films that their developers were inspired by.
GOD HAND's nod to
Castlevania on its map screen and its chiptune minigame music, the Grindhouse lust of
MadWorld, everything about the runup to and launch of 2010's
Splatterhouse (an old favourite of mine) and most egregiously,
No More Heroes: Desperate Struggle's minigames being entirely in 8-bit style.
Bloody hell, I thought.
Well off the mark, aren't I?
The reason I spoke with such frowny-faced certainty, declaring my robot-esque lack of lusting after days gone by and familiarity, is that I have never thought of old games or games I played a long time ago as lost, forgotten or far away. They are very much still current-- they are still in my collection, easily found online or out in the shops. Nostalgia stems from things being
in the past, remembered fondly, which is why it caught me unaware. Or so I like to think.
A branch of nostalgia, a certain type of memory was also present. By using our memories of games past, we recognise patterns and symbols in new games. An oft-cited example would be "Red barrels explode, shoot them to incinerate everything around you". While playing
Bulletstorm, I realised that the best strategy was to charge straight in and start kicking the hells out of everything and shooting them in the face, much as
Serious Sam was. By placing little reliance on cover, I began to play the game as I had years ago. I would argue that this is not so much nostalgia as ingrained tropes, patterns and cliché we have come to accept as part of gaming culture, tried and tested by time... but it would certainly take another waffling explanation.
Retro is something engrained in gaming culture so much so that we don't seem to realise it most of the time. With the rise of gaming culture's visibility and more 'mainstream' appeal, there are more and more people wearing t-shirts with Pacman on,
Zelda trucker hats and messenger bags with big NES controllers printed on them. Old games being re-released on current-gen consoles make it easier than ever to access the games we may have enjoyed in years gone by or be introduced to classics we may have missed the first time around. But how many of these people with their amusing silk-screened shirts are 'truly' involved in the culture of retrogaming itself? There is something of a difference between remembering playing
Zelda on the Nintendo 64 and remembering a code for infinite time in
Manic Miner, or even to go so far as to wear a shirt with it emblazoned on the chest!
Nostalgia gives people something to connect with others with. Retrogaming is something of an exclusive club-- it's something niche within a niche and many people that play games casually may not even be aware that it exists. The dedication within the community is something that seems only matched by the otaku with their passion (one could even call them Retro-otaku). In Suominen's article, he speaks of how the consumption of rock music in recent years has been higher than it was thirty years ago. This is, naturally, because those who consumed the culture as youths have not let it go; as performers have aged, so have their audiences and new generations have been drawn in. He also explains that recent research has shown that those aged thirty-five or more are more likely to play games on a PC and those under favour consoles more strongly. Much like rock music, the early adopters of gaming are growing up-- Suominen reminds us that gaming being prevalent in popular culture is not a new thing by far. You only need to ask someone from the early 80s about Pac-Man to see the results!
It's easy to forget that video gaming is still a relatively young media. The current of today is the retro in ten years-- it shocked me that the Dreamcast and Gamecube are considered retro by some. I remember buying my Gamecube on launch day, does this make me a retro player or a young upstart?
Retro means different things to different people-- what one person considers retro (
Crash Bandicoot) and another (
Adventure) can be wildly different. As the generatins that grew up with video games grow older, the generations after them will consider yesterday's current-gen console a dinosuar. Ultimately, the games industry is a fast-paced, ruthless one; Retro will continue to evolve and it will always be a part of our gaming cultural heritage.