Todayās Total Recall wonāt be about video game history. Itās about dealing with what happens when video game history is dredged back to the present and coated in bright pink lipstick.
EAās Syndicate is but the latest in an ever-growing list of games that are reboots of old franchises. And theyāre reboots in the strictest sense: they reboot the thing, taking some core values or aesthetics and then changing pretty much everything else.
This makes many fans of the original work furious. But it doesnāt have to be that way. Let me help you.
After a few years of therapy, Iām a recovered reboot griever. What would once send me into fits of apoplexy now elicits a shrug at worst, and sometimes even enthusiasm for the complete reworking of an old video game property.
I mean, in early 2010, I composed myself enough to write a barely civil story about Lords of Ultima, EAās re-use of the Ultima brand that had absolutely nothing to do with the classic RPG series of old. But behind the keyboard, I was furious
https://lastchance.cc/ultima-returns-now-for-the-bad-news-452580169%3C/a%3E%3C/p%3E
Then, a few months later, another of my favourite series, XCOM, came back from the dead. It too was looking substantially different. And by that I mean it was basically a new game. By this stage I was growing more cautiously optimistic about things; sure, it wasnāt the XCOM I loved, but maybe, just maybe, it might bring something new to the table that I can love just as much.
https://lastchance.cc/x-com-is-back-5516654%3C/a%3E%3C/p%3E
By the time Starbreezeās Syndicate was finally confirmed, it was like water off a duckās back. Having just come off the excellent Deus Ex: Human Revolution (which as a prequel and not a reboot Iām not alluding to in this piece), I was primed and ready for more near-future corporate warfare starring men in black using fancy weapons. And Syndicate was promising just that. I wasnāt looking at it compared to the Syndicate I loved nearly twenty years ago. I was just looking at what it was, what it was giving me at the time of its release, and got mildly excited accordingly.
Many of you, we can tell, donāt share my optimism. You see an old game being redone and you get sad, or you get angry, or you flit madly between sadness and anger like a busted fluorescent lightbulb. Since sadness and anger are emotions that, well, generally suck, Iām going to share with you a guide to the stages youāll need to progress through to begin accepting these reboots for what they are.
LONGING
The first and most dangerous step is longing. This actually occurs pre-reboot. This is the stage where you reminisce about your favourite old video game, perhaps publicly, and dream of a AAA modern developer taking that game and bringing it faithfully into the contemporary era.
Itās dangerous because youāre letting nostalgia get the better of you. Chances are that old game is ugly and hard to control, and itās almost certain that if it was remade faithfully it would be lambasted by fans and critics alike as either simple, outdated or both.
In all but the rarest exceptions, our love of old games is formed by where we were as a person when we played it, and the time it was released. It does not, in all but the rarest exceptions, mean anybody can pick it up years or even decades later and love it as much as you did. Because they probably wonāt.
RAGE
Oh dear. This is why they say you have to be careful what you wish for. That game you dreamed about being remade is being remade. And even from a piece of concept art, a teaser trailer and a press release you can already tell itās nothing like the old game you love so dear.
You loved a quaint PC series that was either a role-playing game or a strategy title. This is going to be a first-person shooter. You loved a game with quirky sci-fi artwork drawn by the programmers in their spare time. This has been handled by a big-budget studio, and looks like everything else youāve played in the last five years. And you loved a PC game, with all the complexity and eccentricities that implies. This will be a console game you control with six buttons.
So you fly to every message board and commenting system you possess an anonymous account on and you let fly, lambasting developers, crucifying publishers, wishing death, misery and ruin upon all those who dare sully the memory of an old video game you used to like when you were a kid.
None of this makes you feel any better about the situation.
GRIEF
So you despair. You retreat from public comments on big gaming sites to a gameās unofficial forum, personal blog or other quiet corner of the internet to drown your sorrows. You share stories with other fans about the remake youād have made, which inevitably ends up being the exact same game as the original, only with better graphics. And you soon end up talking about other games, because you just canāt bear to talk about this one any longer.
ACCEPTANCE
Grief doesnāt last too long, though, because like a furious caterpillar (furypillar?) it quickly cocoons and emerges a more peaceful, beautiful butterfly. You realise, shit, thereās no way in hell a major publisher in the 21st century is going to release a turn-based strategy game, or a world-sprawling RPG, when itās not one of the three studios that still make money selling turn-based strategy games or world-sprawling RPGs.
Theyāre going to release a first-person shooter because thatās what makes money, and these businesses are in the business of making money. Thatās a wound that never quite heals, as itās facing up to one of the larger problems this industry (and make no mistake, games are more reliant on industry than most other creative mediums) confronts us with, but itās a fact. You can either deal with it orā¦dealwithit.gif.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8otmMpaIdQ
Itās also around the time you realise, shit, the game I loved still exists. Either I can buy it or I can acquire it, itās still out there, and will either run just fine on my PC/laptop or can be purchased cheaply on a consoleās online marketplace. So if I want to relive that original experience, I can go and play the actual, original game.
And then it hits you. When you process all of the above and realise this new game is so divorced from the old one that all it shares are basic themes and the name on the box, you can take it for what it actually is: an all-new game. One thatās to be judged on its own merits, not comparisons to an old franchise with which it has nothing in common.
In short: Iām going to play and judge the new Syndicate , and the next reboot like it, based on the game inside the box, not the name on the front of it.
Of course, you donāt have to take my advice. Itās free, Iām just some guy writing about video games, nobody is forcing you to do anything! Some of you, for example, may have shot straight to Acceptance. Like a Jedi Master. I applaud you. May your next 900 years living on Dagobah be as rewarding as your time on Earthās internet.
Others may not want to progress at all. If you want to get angry and stay angry, knock yourself out: you wonāt be the first person on the internet to be angry about video games, and you wonāt be the last.
But if you want to shake some of that rage off your back and take what I think is a more measured view of the subject, feel free to try it out. Take a deep breath. In. Out. Look at the big picture and remember a few things: the old game is still there, the new game is a new game, and thereās a chance that new game might even be awesome.
* Note: None of the above applies to Wing Commander Arena. Fuck that game.
Total Recall is a look back at the history of video games through their characters, franchises, developers and trends.
You can contact Luke Plunkett, the author of this post, at [emailĀ protected]. You can also find him on Twitter, Facebook, and lurking around our #tips page.
