I loved computer games so much as a kid in the 90s that my dad built me a computer.
You read that right. He built me a computer. Dads (or moms!) in those days could do stuff like that. Deep down inside him is a big nerd who starved to death along with Radio Shack when the Computer Powers That Be made their systems non-serviceable. Everything has been drawn into closed systems that work together (theoretically) seamlessly, for the greatest optimization.1
Despite the incredible power and graphics we get in games today, I feel nostalgic for those games, even if they were a little wonky. Because the truth is that it’s often the very limitations themselves that give birth to the most delightful and unconventional solutions. Immersing myself in games born of that era shaped who I am.
This is a truly fascinating video about the memory limitations the creator of Prince of Persia faced in the early days of game creation. Spoiler alert: they ran out of memory and couldn’t add a distinct villain to the game, and what’s an adventure game without a villain?
This led to the creation of Shadow Man, an evil clone of our hero. What takes this solution from merely clever to epic was that the only way to defeat Shadow Man was not in epic battle, but simply by putting away your own sword, which would cause him to do the same.
Come on. How cool is that ending? It is so much more thought-provoking than a simple martial defeat.2 I think about it all the time.
And beyond the thought-provoking, these old games were also often absolutely hilarious. They had to be, to distract us from their technological limitations.
For example, the original Monkey Island game, a huge favorite of mine, got around the limitations of repetitive combat by making it insult-based instead of skill-based. Any swashbuckler worth her grog would fight pirates around the island to learn the responses to various insults (“You fight like a dairy farmer!” “How appropriate, you fight like a cow!”). Eventually, you’d reach the peak of your skill by applying the learned retorts to fresh insults delivered by the Sword Master (“I will milk every drop of blood from your body!” “How appropriate, you fight like a cow!”). 3
My very favorite computer game series of all time— Sierra’s Quest for Glory, the first game of which came out in 1992,4 employed humor with relish. At the end of the fourth game, Shadows of Darkness (arguably my favorite, though I also adored 3 and 5, even though 5 was really controversial when it came out) you deploy the Ultimate Joke as the final weapon against your adversary.5 You can, of course, only tell the joke once, as jokes become less funny the more you tell them.
It’s not like games today don’t have humor and thought-provoking themes. They do, and some even employ really fascinating techniques to create new ways to learn and experience— it’s not a game, but several years ago my first VR experience was a simulation of solitary confinement, the horrors of which have stayed with me to this day.
And frankly, I don’t know that I’d have the patience to play through an old school platformer or point-and-click, not when the unbelievably immersive world of Baldur’s Gate 3 waits a mere click of a button away… even if, thanks to the need to appeal to an ever-broad, ever growing audiences plus unbelievable graphics, intricate combat systems, and shockingly massive maps to explore, games no longer need to rely on humor or those clever workarounds that I loved so much.
Life and trends move on— but beyond the nostalgia, reflecting on this makes me think more broadly about how limitations in can lead to some very creative solutions—if we’re able to move past the frustration to see them (or invent them!).
More on that another time.
A few more recommendations to watch / read / play
Watch:
A very brief history of adventure games by Lori Cole
Read:
Reality is Broken is an excellent book about the power and application of games in everyday life.
I’m now super curious to read former Sierra CEO Ken Williams’ tell-all book, Not All Fairy Tales Have Happy Endings. There’s a great interview with him about it here.
Play:
The 2015 continuation of the original King’s Quest (another favorite series; my best friend and I initially bonded over the innocuous earworm, “Alexander Pulls Out His Magic Map”) blew me away with its charm, humor, and sincerity, not to mention its delicate handling of poignant themes such as aging and loss.
The co-creators of Quest for Glory, The Coles, launched a successful kickstarter for a new game in the same vein of tongue-in-cheek roleplaying in 2018.
An indie mystery game that still has me thinking about it every so often years after I completed it in a single blitz a few days after Adam & I got married is What Remains of Edith Finch. Part family mystery, part horror, all creative uses of the medium.
I know people still tinker with PCs, but many don’t, and other products don’t have that option at all.
And in fact, many old Adventure games actually rewarded you for finding non-violent/more creative solutions to problems.
The reward for defeating the Sword Master was, naturally, a 100% Cotton T-Shirt that read “I beat the Sword Master.”
I was four, so I didn’t play it then, but I quickly caught up as soon as I could operate the DOS system.
It involves a wizard and a farmer’s daughter; I can say no more.