Videogames as Remediated Memories

Introduction

Over the course of the seventh generation of videogames (approximately 2005–2013 and including the Xbox 360, Playstation 3, and Wii), there has been a growing fascination with collective memories of both videogames and gaming culture. Nostalgia for videogames has become prevalent within gaming communities and, subsequently, in associated media and product consumption. The nostalgic value of videogame hardware has stimulated retention or collection of outmoded technologies (Bell, 2004), with a noteworthy example being a Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) cartridge that made headlines when it was added to eBay with a first bid of US$4,999 (BBC News, 2014). Marketing companies and retailers have sought to latch on to gaming nostalgia by designing and selling products that rekindle memories of packaging and music from late adolescence (Edge Staff, 2012). But perhaps the most significant development of all during the seventh generation has been the mainstream integration of classic games into modern gaming platforms, as Talyor and Whalen identify:

Wii’s Virtual Console, notably, seems to make the old new again—bringing it back in a shiny package—while also preserving most of its “classic” qualities. This reconfiguration of the old within the new follows the logic of nostalgia that combines the past and the present in a way that can cause the past to become a fetish. (Taylor and Whalen, 2008, p. 3)

All of these examples are concerned with nostalgia for videogames, including past videogames’ technologies, content, and culture. We can draw two key observations at this point. Firstly, we could argue that the emergence of strong feelings of consumer nostalgia for videogames could have been anticipated. After all, the videogames industry has quickly developed over a relatively short space of time. In less than 40 years, we have seen a plethora of significant technological and creative leaps in videogame design and development. Videogame culture and consumption have grown exponentially, and as a consequence, most adults today have witnessed the rapid evolution of the medium. Videogames that consumers thought were revolutionary at the time were ultimately surpassed within a few years, if not months. As the complexity and quality of videogames have increased, fond memories of past gaming experiences have grown to the point that a commodification of videogame nostalgia was inevitable. Secondly—and of most importance to this article—we must observe that the commodification of videogame nostalgia within contemporary videogame design is only part of the picture. With a mature, media-savvy audience of gamers who feel nostalgia not only for past videogames but also for past film, television (TV), music, and fashion, we are now seeing an increasing number of videogames that seek to integrate cross-media references into their design to satisfy the wider nostalgic urges of consumers.

Jenkins (2006) theory of convergence anticipates the flow of content and sharing of audiences across old and new media, and Bolter and Grusin’s (1999) theory of remediation describes the strategies that can be used to appropriate and build upon older media forms within new media such as videogames. In videogame design, it is a useful technique to incorporate the codes and conventions of other media forms that are emblematic of specific periods in time. These remediated images can appeal to the nostalgic desires of contemporary gamers, many of whom have a broad appreciation of late 20th- and early 21st-century media culture. One of the most comprehensive examples of cross-media referencing in a recent videogame is Bioshock Infinite (Irrational Games, 2013), which uses the narrative genre of alternative history and the science fiction theme of parallel universes to weave a variety of 20th-century popular culture references throughout its story world. In fact, Bioshock Infinite mixes nostalgic references, for example, by taking music from one time period (such as music by 1980s new wave band Tears for Fears) and adapting it to an early 20th-century folk music style. The end effect is the embedding of nostalgic references within nostalgic references, to the point where historicity is replaced by an ambiguous image of the past.

The aim of this article is to discuss how videogames can make use of a variety of mediated references to the past to create a commodification of nostalgia. The two videogames selected for this study are Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon (Ubisoft Montreal, 2013) and Gone Home (The Fullbright Company, 2013). These are henceforth referred to as BD and GH. Both videogames were released across various platforms in 2013; BD on May 1st as a digital download for Playstation 3, Xbox 360, and Windows PC, and GH on August 15th as a digital download for Mac OS X, Windows PC, and Linux. These videogames made for a fascinating comparison for a number of reasons.

First, both made extensive use of cross-media nostalgic content within their narratives, worlds, and in their promotional materials. Specifically, the overall visual and audio designs of both videogames infer period genres of film, TV, and music in addition to past videogames. BD is a first-person shooter (FPS) in which the player takes control of Sergeant Rex Power Colt, a cyborg commando charged with locating and eliminating the head of a renegade cyborg army in a postapocalyptic alternative 2007. The videogame is heavily inspired by the 1980s science fiction action movie genre, which it parodies through comedic critique. GH is a first-person exploration videogame that is firmly focused on narrative rather than challenge. Set in the Pacific North West in the mid-1990s, players of GH take on the role of Kaitlin Greenbriar, the eldest daughter in a family of four. Kaitlin returns home from a trip to Europe but finds that none of the other members of the family are home. By exploring the house, the player learns about the troubles, conflicts, and heartaches suffered by the family while Kaitlin has been away: primarily the coming of age story of younger sister Samantha. GH alludes to Riot grrrl music and is heavily influenced by 1990s television series and consumer culture. ¹

Secondly, these two videogames can be considered broadly representative of the output generated by AAA and Indie game studios, offering an interesting comparison between large-scale and small-scale productions. Ubisoft Montreal had achieved exceptional commercial and critical success with its PC and console game releases in the lead up to BD, and in 2013 was one of the largest and most prolific games studios in the world. Indeed, BD itself was a modification of the recently released AAA title Far Cry 3 (Ubisoft Montreal, 2012). By contrast, GH was the first title released by The Fullbright Company, a studio comprised of just four development staff (The Fullbright Company, n.d.).

Finally, both videogames have been well received by consumers and critics alike. In less than 2 months, it was reported that BD had surpassed 500,000 sales (Mallory, 2013), demonstrating its immediate commercial success. Despite arriving at a time when many new videogames were seeking to make cross-media connections to the recent past, BD ended up being one of the most successful nostalgia games of the year, likely due to both the popularity of its cult references among core gamers and a cleverly designed marketing strategy. GH was reported to have made 50,000 sales in its first month of release (Gaynor, 2013), which can be regarded as a strong commercial success for an Indie title. Like BD, GH has achieved a remarkable degree of success in terms of sales and consumer response, which is likely a combination of the power of its nostalgic content and the strength of its environmental storytelling. The qualities of the cross-media nostalgic references in both videogames will be addressed throughout this article, which will hopefully shed more light on why these two videogames have been so successful. At the time of writing the Metacritic score for the Xbox 360 version of BD is 80 based on 51 critic reviews, while GH has a score of 86 based on 55 reviews. Among other accolades, GH went on to win Polygon’s Game of the Year 2013 (Grant, 2014).

This article comparatively analyses BD (played on Xbox 360) and GH (played on Mac OS X) through consideration of their use of cross-media nostalgic references. In order to achieve this, the study of nostalgia in media in general and in gaming in particular served as a key point of reference. Bolter and Grusin’s (1999) discussion of remediation in new media, including videogames, was important in the analysis. Specifically, although two of Jean Baudrillard’s seminal works—The System of Objects and Simulacra and Simulation—were used as a framework to critique the simulation of 1980s and 1990s popular culture within the two videogames.

First, both videogames were played through in full in order to come to an understanding of their gameplay design, narrative, context, and structure. Although data could have been collected at this point, playing the videogames first meant that BD and GH could be experienced from the perspective of a gamer, allowing the researcher to become more immersed in the game worlds and narratives without the need to break flow. If play was regularly interrupted at this stage in order to capture data, it is likely that much of the richness of the videogame environments and gameplay would have been missed. After the videogames were completed once, they were played through again but with the analytical framework in mind. On the second play, notes and screenshots were recorded that built up a data set that was subsequently analyzed in order to reveal uses of mediated nostalgia. The data set comprised three categories, namely, visuals, text, and observations. These three categories were aligned in rows, with each row representing one entry in the data set. The visual data were screenshots captured from the videogames that showed pertinent visuals, gameplay, or narrative elements. The text data category included narrative text such as dialogue and descriptions found within the videogames. Finally, the observation data were notes taken by the researcher that related to any text or visual data that were captured. Once the data set was complete, the data were analyzed using the identified framework. In particular, the study looked to discuss how narrative design, production design, and sound design served to commodify a nostalgic yearning for late 20th-century media culture.

Nostalgia and Videogames

Initially posited as a medical condition in the 17th century, nostalgia was defined as a form of “extreme homesickness” with symptoms identified as being “despondency, melancholia, lability of emotion including profound bouts of weeping, anorexia, a generalized ‘wasting away’ and, not infrequently, attempts at suicide” (Davis, 1977, p. 414). These symptoms were associated with a spatial displacement—literally being away from home—but, as the term transitioned into popular use, the displacement shifted to a spatiotemporal one. In other words, nostalgia has come to be understood as a melancholic longing for a space in time. Negative connotations of nostalgia strengthened following the development of modernist thinking in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. This stemmed from nostalgia being conceived as the binary opposite of the modernist ideal of progress. In examining this past–future dichotomy, Pickering and Keightley (2006, p. 920) state that “if a dogmatic belief in progress entailed an ardent longing for the future, nostalgia as its paired inversion entailed only an ardent longing for the past.” In this sense, many critics of nostalgia could dismiss it as backward looking. This is a notion that Pickering and Keightley vigorously oppose in their paper, arguing that nostalgia should “be seen as not only a search for ontological security in the past, but also a means of taking one’s bearings for the road ahead in the uncertainties of the present.” It is suggesting that nostalgia is the negative opposite of progress, and it has also been put forward that it is the subjective opposite of the more objective discipline of history (see Lowenthal, 1989). Where history values rigor and scholarship, nostalgia is instead seen as emotional and selective. However, Cook (2005) proposes a more balanced approach to the relationship between history and nostalgia, conceiving them as end points on a scale of memory representation, rather than binaries that indicate high- and low-quality modes of recollection.

Today, nostalgia is associated with the study of collective or public memory with specific emphasis on loss and longing, and with focus on both the subject (the feeling of nostalgia) and the object (the thing which embodies nostalgia). As Radstone (2010, p. 188) states, it is “both a way of knowing the world—or, better put, a way of knowing worlds—and a discourse on knowledge.” It is a broad definition, but nostalgia is a complex sociological means of familiarizing and positioning ourselves with the past and one that is of clear importance to media studies. In particular, how nostalgia is commodified through media representations is noteworthy. As Heineman states:

To think nostalgically is to recognize the past as intrinsically better (e.g. simpler, healthier) than the present, but it is also to feel fear and sadness that what was lost cannot be regained. Consuming products from our past is a way to try and (re)connect, on an emotional and personal level with this “better” time. (Heineman, 2014)

As acknowledged in the introduction section, nostalgia is increasingly evident as a force within videogame production, reception, and associated cultural activity. Furthermore, the commodification of nostalgia within videogame design and consumption can be approached from two perspectives, that is, the commodification of consumer nostalgia for videogames (repackaging, revisiting, or reimagining past designs and aesthetics) or the commodification of consumer nostalgia for a range of historical and mediated referents as a means of enhancing the appeal of an original videogame product. In academic study, the former has arguably received more attention. For example, Swalwell (2007) discusses how videogames can progress from initial novelty to detritus, with games literally being thrown away and forgotten about. But she also highlights that a third phase of renewed novelty emerges as gamers begin to experience nostalgia. This subsequently forms the foundation for renewed consumption and the sale of classic games, for instance, through the digital distribution channels discussed earlier. Suominen (2007, p. 4) asks whether there is a yearning for “learned rules or fictional worlds constructed in earlier gaming situations, or both together” but also identifies the wider commodification of retrogames culture to include listening to and producing music, making and buying clothing, and associated products of graphic design. Whiteman (2008) considers videogame nostalgia from the point of view of the fan communities that develop affiliations with classic games and in turn how these affiliations affect interpretations of and responses to contemporary products based on the earlier works. Heineman (2014) also discusses the role of fans that engage with classic videogames and, in particular, how fan practices and the motivations of the games industry can lead to variations in the discourse of videogames history.

Although studies have analyzed the nostalgic representation of the past in media such as TV and film, some argue that videogames are particularly disposed to nostalgic engagement. Fenty (2008, pp. 24–25) states that “it is the ways in which video games are different that make them particularly suited as objects of nostalgia." The active and participatory nature of videogames both strengthens our memories of past media and facilitates more powerful satisfaction of nostalgic desires through nostalgic play. Using McLuhan’s (1964) definition of hot and cool media, Fenty argues that videogames are cool (and closer to novels than they are to hot media like film) due to the fact that much more effort is needed to engage with and interpret a videogame than a movie. And classic videogames from the late 1970s to early 1990s are in effect cooler—more effort was required on the part of the player to engage with and make sense of these videogames due to their low audiovisual fidelity. In summarizing the nostalgic quality of videogames, Fenty states that:

…they can evoke nostalgia for earlier days in much the same way as cinema, but with the added allure of interactivity. Video games can represent the past as it was, or as it never was, but they can also represent how players wish to remember it, revisiting or revising the past to make players yearn for it, and they can offer players the possibility of not only being there but of doing things there—of playing the past. (Fenty, 2008, p. 27)

Systems, Simulation, and Remediation

Baudrillard has proven to be a useful source for framing videogames research (Simon, 2007) not only because of his discussion of simulation and postmodern media culture but also because of his ability to make readers “think about the world and reality differently” (Toffoletti, 2011, p. 4). This capacity to interpret videogame imagery from an alternative perspective was one of the main drives behind the selection of Baudrillard’s work for the framing of the current article. The rationale for the selection was bolstered by the fact that Baudrillard often discussed the place of nostalgia within consumerist society. Two of Baudrillard’s seminal texts were used to develop a critical framework for the study of nostalgia, namely, The System of Objects (1968/2005) and Simulacra and Simulation (1981/1994). While The System of Objects provides a foundation for analysis of the content of videogame worlds, Simulacra and Simulation compels us to consider the boundaries between virtual reality and “real-world” references.

In The System of Objects, Baudrillard argues that objects must become signs in order to be consumed. To Baudrillard, the role of a consumer object is primarily the communication of a message. He initially discusses this through two discourses, which he terms the objective (functional) and subjective (nonfunctional) discourses of objects. Baudrillard’s functional system emphasizes how the consumer can engage with organization of objects in order to serve their needs and in turn how object arrangement can impact on the ambience of a space. The functional system of consumer objects is useful in our analysis of a videogame environment specifically because it concerns the system of assets as a whole. Baudrillard argues that properties of an object such as color, material, shape, and design can be considered functional but that the functionality of any individual object is best considered in terms of it being “a combining element, an adjustable item, within a universal system of signs” (Baudrillard, 1968/2005, p. 67). In videogames, functionality is typically considered in terms of the intentionality of an object and how this is embedded within the user experience. According to Calvillo-Gámez, Cairns, and Cox (2010, p. 51), functionality is fundamentally about “the ability of the tool to perform the desired task.” What Baudrillard suggests is that functionality is not just about how well the code is designed to facilitate player agency or how well the interface communicates information. Instead, we should consider the meta-functionality of videogame objects and how they combine to create a universal sign that supports a desired atmosphere, with atmosphere being defined as the “systematic cultural connotation at the level of the objects” (Baudrillard, 1968/2005, p. 49). As Baurdillard explains, discrete objects no longer have “individual presence” such that they can be considered independently but instead have:

. . . an overall coherence attained by virtue of their simplification as components of a code and the way their relationships are calculated. An unrestricted combinatorial system enables man to use them as the elements of his structural discourse. (Baudrillard, 1968/2005, p. 23)

In the second text used to frame this study, Simulacra and Simulation, Baudrillard makes the argument that systems of signs have come to replace reality and that media are active in the creation of representations that no longer align with real-world references. Consumers are unable to make clear distinctions between simulations of reality and reality itself, leading to a prevalent hyperreality within consumer society. In a hyperreal world, nothing is unmediated due to the ubiquity of simulations, and the simulations become our new reference points. Baudrillard describes a four-step process through which reality is replaced by pure simulation and argues that this process supports the manifestation of nostalgia:

When the real is no longer what it was, nostalgia assumes its full meaning. There is a plethora of myths of origin and of signs of reality—a plethora of truth, of secondary objectivity, and authenticity. (Baudrillard, 1981/1994, pp. 6–7)

As we have already established, nostalgic content within videogames often involves a degree of self-correspondence. However, it is clear that we make use of multiple media sources to record or even generate memories (Garde-Hansen, 2011), and within a media-saturated world, many of us now have complex mediated connections to the past. Baudrillard argues that our memories of past times are increasingly based on our experience of media representations (in literature, TV, and film) rather than through direct experience. According to Baudrillard, media representations can be seen to replace reality, with the effect that mediated images can in fact feel more real to us than historically accurate records. Bolter and Grusin discuss how new media pay homage to earlier media forms by building upon or refashioning their codes and conventions. This acknowledgment and integration of the past into progressive media forms aligns with Pickering and Keightley’s (2006) positive view on nostalgia and therefore draws a striking connection between nostalgia as a sociological concept and the remediation methods used by new media such as videogames. In particular, Bolter and Grusin identify immediacy and hypermediacy as two strategies used in the process of remeditation. Immediacy stresses the transparency of the experience by masking or otherwise negating the medium, while hypermediacy actively embraces and draws attention to the medium. In relation to videogames, Bolter and Grusin (1999, p. 91) state that “the distinction between the more hypermediated and the more transparent games often turns on whether the primary remediation is television or film.” TV is regarded as being subject to hypermediation more so than film, in that the interface is more apparent and more readily acknowledged, while film tends toward immediacy, immersion, and the concealment of the medium. When examining commodified nostalgia within videogames, it is therefore important to consider the influence and incorporation of other media forms, in particular TV and film. A longing for the past can include memories of retrogaming, but memories of gaming are inevitably interwoven with memories of media culture more widely. As Bolter and Grusin’s work makes clear, videogames actively engage in remediation of older forms such as film and TV. Consequently, nostalgic value can be evident not only through references to the ideas of past but also to the media of the past.

The Virtual System of Objects

Much of BD’s interface and game world is built upon a system of props, costumes, fixtures, furnishings, and architecture that is characteristic of a science fiction action film set from the 1980s. In the game world, we see 1980s visions of technological progress, brightly colored screens and gadgets, and cybernetic enhancements. However, BD’s objects are characteristic of 1980s culture more generally. Visually, the most notable connection to the period in BD is the use of color palettes, typography, and graphic design that are typical of 1980s consumerism and fashion. One of the best examples of this is the title screen itself, created by graphic designer James White of Signalnoise (Figure 1). The title makes striking use of hot pink against an electric blue background, uses contrasting 3D metallic and drop-shadowed graffiti text, and incorporates computing-inspired graphics into the design. All of these visual objects are independently functional but, as Baurdillard notes, their meta-functionality as a combinatorial system of graphic objects is much more powerful. The functional role of this system is to create an atmosphere that is an unmistakable homage to 1980s popular and consumer culture, albeit one that is unashamedly yet affectionately scathing of 1980s taste. The 1980s inspired visual styling is apparent throughout all areas of the game design, including the game world itself. Set in an alternative postapocalyptic Earth, BD uses the dystopian trope of nuclear fallout to present a world that glows in garish colors. This world symbolizes a contemporary fondness for what is now perceived to be a distasteful visual style. It might be a world threatened by mutant monsters and laser wielding cyborg armies, but the visual design of the world could easily be mistaken for a memory of a 1980s disco complete with neon signage and dancers wearing brightly colored spandex. Although the visual presentation of BD is unquestionably a remediation of period media culture (which we shall address shortly), the systematic cultural connotation achieved by the videogame’s graphic style is more wide ranging, providing consumers an opportunity for narcissistic regression to a broader range of 1980s youth culture.

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Figure 1.

The title screen from Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon.

The trailer for BD is an apt summary of the videogame’s complex system of objects (Figure 2). Presented as a trailer recorded on video home system (VHS), this video embeds snippets of TV programming (including 1980s-styled advertisements and exercise videos) in order to enhance the authenticity of BD as a game of the period. The characters and world of the videogame are rendered in the style of a Saturday morning action cartoon and potential associated merchandize is even shown at the end of the trailer. All of these objects are presented as authentic antiques of a past time. Individually, they are indicative of 1980s consumerism and cultural style, but they are much more successful when combined as the faux VHS recording. This trailer could be a genuine advert for a new videogame in the mid-1980s, hurriedly recorded over one of mom’s or dad’s VHS cassettes. By applying Baudrillard’s theory of antique objects, we can see how these game objects satisfy both the need for regression to childhood experience and the desire to perceive and handle authentic craftsmanship. BD is presented as an extensive if imperfect memory of youth in the 1980s while also providing an authentic recreation of consumer practices and technological limitations. This is nevertheless a restoration rather than a genuine artifact of the past. Just like Baudrillard’s restored ruins, the objects contained within BD are there to symbolize the past, but the structure (the videogame design, graphics engine, and gameplay) is modern. Indeed, as a modification of the modern FPS Far Cry 3, BD is a sharp contrast between a technically sophisticated core and a shell comprised of antiquated objects. In other words, this is nostalgia commodified rather than faithful nostalgic representation.

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Figure 2.

Stills from the Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon trailer.

GH like BD can be considered a Baudrillardian restoration: a modern game design for a modern audience but decorated with antiques that commodify nostalgia to enhance the appeal of a gaming product. The primacy of the modern design of the game can be evidenced in the developer’s initial reasoning for a mid-1990s setting: that “it was set in the '90s because they didn't want players to find their sister's cell phone, read her texts and get the whole story right there” (Sinclair, 2014). Despite this concern about how a contemporary audience might respond to a flaw in the design, the period setting is arguably one of the most important aspects of GH’s production.

In GH, rather than a system of objects that is connotative of a period film set, the player is continuously presented with and encouraged to scrutinize a variety of consumer objects that are indicative of 1990s United States. From the start, the player stumbles across objects as diverse as textiles, food and beverage containers, electronics, and furnishings that are instantly recognizable as products of a western 1990s environment. As the developers describe in an interview, this effect was the result of a meticulous process of appropriating period references and simulating them within the world of GH:

Zimonja, 35, found design inspiration in the American consumer's Bible: “We got a Sears catalogue from 1992 on eBay, full of ghastly furniture. We scanned things from that and then Kate Craig, our environment artist, turned them into 3D models.” Gaynor adds: “The core lies in a place that feels familiar and believable. It's all about being immersed in the atmosphere.” (Nye Griffiths, 2013)

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Figure 3.

Objects that reference a typical 1990s household in Gone Home.

Although GH incorporates recognizable real-world objects into its environment design, the use of objects as cultural signifiers is particularly powerful. As shown in Figure 4, objects of cultural consumption populate much of the game world: mix tapes with handwritten track listings; amateur fanzine production; written notes on control combinations for Street Fighter; TV listings and cabinets filled with recorded films and TV series; a pastiche of Sassy magazine that is evocative of young feminist principles and alternative music illustrative of the period; and a collage comprised of period celebrity imagery. By placing a wealth of consumer objects in the world, the game designers effectively create an authentic representation of a space in time: a museum of period artifacts that the player can both pick up and manipulate as individual antiques and also appreciate as part of the wider atmosphere. By adding on top of this an additional layer of objects that reflect the interests, ideas, and actions of people living in the environment, a much stronger connection to the time period is established. These are no longer objects that existed in the period but objects that were meaningful to people who lived in this time and space. When it comes to satisfying the urge for regression to childhood, these items go beyond the familiar patterns, designs, and technologies scattered throughout the GH house. Instead, the player can look to the mix tapes, VHS recordings, and handwritten notes and establish a cultural rather than merely a physical connection to the 1990s.

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Figure 4.

Objects that refer to cultural practices in the 1990s.

The representations of period consumer culture in both BD and GH are evidently framed by contemporary tastes and aesthetic judgments. Specifically, we can regard these videogames as simulations that are shaped by the vision and intentionality of the developers who exercised their creative license and subjective interpretation of 1980s and 1990s culture and consumerism. For example, as discussed earlier, GH established an atmosphere of 1990s culture by developing a system of objects based on period reference images of consumer products, many of which were regarded as ghastly. In the in-game commentary entry “Ugly Mug,” the developers expand on this by explaining that, while many of the consumer objects that exist in the game are visually disgusting, the repulsiveness of a 3D object was actually a benchmark for acceptance. In this simulation of an early 1990s American household, purposefully ugly objects replace historical references with new truths, new origins, and new authenticities. For a contemporary audience, the worlds presented in both BD and GH are more authentic than historical reality precisely because they pervert the style of 1980s and 1990s objects and appeal to our memories of bad taste through selectiveness and exaggeration.

The Hyperrealities of BD and GH

In the previous section, we examined how objects within BD and GH could be analyzed according to Baudrillard’s functional and nonfunctional discourses. Both videogames establish an appropriate period atmosphere through placement and manipulation of objects emblematic of their target decades. However, having considered these period objects, it is evident that “real-world” referents are not the only technique used by the developers to transport us into the recent past. Both videogames look to remediate the media styles and conventions of the periods. They appropriate and blend these cross-media influences, showcasing the referential power of the videogame form. In effect, BD and GH are hyperrealities not historical representations.

Returning to Bolter and Grusin’s strategies of remediation for a moment, it is worth recalling their view that, within videogames, the dominant remediation strategy (immediacy or hypermediacy) is typically determined by the medium selected for remediation: In other words, whether the videogame is looking more toward film or TV as its reference. As identified in the introduction section, BD can be considered a remediation of film (specifically the 1980s science fiction action film, albeit through a lens of VHS recordings or straight to VHS films) and GH a remediation of TV (specifically 1990s teen dramas and supernatural television series). We could therefore expect that BD would lean toward immediacy, while GH would lean toward hypermediacy. However, the truth is not so straightforward. As Bolter and Grusin discuss, remediation in new media is built upon the dual logic of immediacy and hypermediacy, and so new media such as videogames aim for transparency while simultaneously drawing attention to their form. BD and GH are played from a first-person view and present worlds that players can openly explore and act upon, offering a level of immediacy and agency that diminishes references to other media forms and that maintains immersion. At the same time, it is plain to see that these are hypermediated videogames with narratives that make extensive reference to period film, television, music, and videogames.

The narrative in BD is principally delivered via voice-acted dialogue and cut scenes. The voice acting is particularly notable due to the casting of cult 1980s science fiction action actor Michael Biehn—star of The Terminator and Aliens—as lead protagonist Rex Colt. A deliberate choice on the part of the developer, Biehn, serves not only to add a level of authenticity to the cheesy lines delivered by Rex but also to establish an in joke for those familiar with the genre. Rex interacts with a cast of characters that could have stepped out of any low-budget 1980s action movie, namely, the badass soldier buddy (T.T. Spider Brown), the intelligent love interest named like a Bond girl (Dr. Elizabeth Darling), and the super soldier who switches sides (Colonel Sloan). Interactions between the characters typically involve one liners that resemble the style of low-budget action screenwriting. Dialogue also draws upon common science fiction action movie tropes, such as the use of techno babble and referencing a sidekick’s wife and kids shortly before his heroic death. The following dialogue is taken from one of the early cut scenes in BD in which Rex and his partner, Spider, attempt to disable an enemy installation:

While the dialogue makes reference to 1980s film, the cut scenes used in BD instead remediate 16-bit graphics complete with pixelated forms, reduced color palettes, and limited animations that parody the low fidelity of 16-bit videogames. From this, we can note that, in addition to being a videogame about 1980s media culture, BD is also a videogame attempting to find correspondence with its own medium (much like Baudrillard’s example of cinematic remakes of classics). Cult science fiction and action films of the 1980s are the major point of reference and remediation in BD, but the developers (and subsequently the consumers attracted by BD) seek a reconnection with videogame styles of the past. The 16-bit cut scenes nevertheless achieve a nostalgia feedback loop: The graphics could be from a super NES or Sega Mega Drive videogame, but the content is a remediation of classic science fiction action. The introduction to the game, for example, pays homage to the dystopian world of the Terminator films and specifically references the nightmare premonition experienced by protagonist Sarah Connor in Terminator 2: Judgment Day (Figure 5). Beyond the cut scenes, we also find remediation of early FPS design inadequacies in BD. This is particularly apparent in the allocation of objectives to the player (which are often described in a banal manner that draws attention to the videogame form—an example of which can be seen in the dialogue earlier) and in the tutorial (which Rex openly mocks as being dull, laborious, and at odds with a realistic narrative).

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Figure 5.

On the left, screenshots from an early cut scene in Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon. On the right, comparative stills from Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991, top and middle) and The Terminator (1984, bottom).

In many ways, the design of GH also seeks correspondence with past gaming. Most of the objects described earlier can be selected and examined, reflecting a style of interaction that offers a reconnection with the exploratory virtual environments of videogames such System Shock (Looking Glass Studios, 1994). Compelling the player to explore the world through exhaustive probing of objects can be considered a remediation of the classic point and click adventure, for example, videogames such as The Secret of Monkey Island (Lucasfilm Games, 1990), while the staging of a first-person, narrative-driven journey harks back to Myst (Cyan, 1993).

Primarily, though, GH uses period styles and conventions of TV in order to progress the narrative. Instead of character interactions and cut scenes, GH makes use of both diegetic and nondiegetic voiceover. Diegetic voiceover is handled through the use of voice messages that can be accessed via telephone answer machines. By using period phones and answering machines, the game integrates an audiovisual likeness of 1990s consumer electronics into the interaction and narrative design. As regards hyperreal representation of 1990s culture, however, the nondiegetic voiceover in GH is perhaps more interesting. These voiceovers are triggered when the player finds notes left by other characters, with a strong focus being on journal entries from younger sister Sam, whose voiceovers directly address the player as Kaitlin. The voiceover style is reminiscent of the voiceover narration used in early 1990s TV series The Wonder Years and My So Called Life. The content is typically focused on the angst and troubles of teenage, White, middle-class Americans, while the style of writing and speech is active, personal, emotional, and conversational. The following example is taken from one of the entries unlocked early in the game, labeled September 6, 1994 “First Day of School”:

Oh my god. You are so lucky you finished high school before we moved into this house.

So, it’s the first day of school, and there I am, introducing myself to the class, and I say that I just moved into the house on Arbor Hill. All of a sudden EVERY kid in the room turns and just STARES like I suddenly transformed into a mutant. I just stood there, wishing pretty hard for a rewind button. Because now maybe nobody knows my name, but they all know who I am: “The Psycho House Girl.”

Besides the remediation of teen drama, GH also references two notable themes of 1990s TV and film, that is, the paranormal and the conspiracy theories. In particular, GH embeds references to the TV series The X-Files and the 1991 Oliver Stone film JFK. These references are initially recognized as objects that we could include as part of the overall system of objects discussed earlier. Kaitlin’s father Terrence is a writer of science fiction alternative history involving President Kennedy. His own books as well as related research materials can be found throughout the house. Sam is a fan of The X-Files and hangs protagonist Fox Mulder’s famous I Want to Believe poster on her bedroom wall. As confirmed in the commentary, VHS recordings of The X-Files and JFK also belong to Sam and Terrence, respectively (Figure 6). Beyond the objects, however, GH is presented as a mystery rather than a typical teen drama. From the start, the house appears to have been abandoned, and everything from the unrepentant thunder to the flickering of lights and creaking of floorboards suggests the paranormal. The player can find books on the paranormal, a Ouija board, and notes that suggest a haunting. The house could easily be a setting for an investigation by Mulder and Scully. The player’s investigation of the house reveals more and more mysteries. Many clues offer only partial explanations, and most of those often lead the player to jump to conclusions that ultimately prove false. On top of the remediation of teen drama, then, GH also remediates cult science fiction and conspiracy theory to produce a simulation of a 1990s’ paranormal mystery.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 6.

Video home system (VHS) recordings of JFK and The X-Files, Sam’s I Want to Believe Poster, and a book owned by Terrence about the death of JFK.

One of the most apparent uses of cross-media referencing within BD and GH is the use of music and sound design. The soundtrack of BD was one of the earliest aspects of the design to be finalized. As game designer Dean Evans has discussed (Turi, 2013), the soundtrack, produced by Australian composers Power Glove, was a response to a list of 1980s film and music references that he provided. Key references included John Carpenter’s The Thing and Escape from New York (McAllister, 2013) which help to set the tone of early 1980s science-fiction action in original tracks such as Omega Force. The opening track Rex Colt again provides a pastiche of The Terminator, linking the hero of BD to the film series through the remediation of the iconic industrial drumbeat.

GH’s soundtrack can be broken into two categories of music composition and implementation, namely, the appropriation of Riot grrrl music (which, as discussed earlier, is accessed through the playing of cassettes) and an original score by Chris Remo (which is played as ambient music and to accompany journal entries). As with the voiceover narrative, these two applications of music are fundamentally distinguished as diegetic and nondiegetic. This allows for a notable distinction in their style. The Riot grrrl music communicates the passion of youth and, in particular, the discontentment felt by young women in early 1990s America. Triggering Riot grrrl tracks take action from the player (searching for cassettes, inserting them into cassette players, and hi-fis) providing a much more transparent and immersive remediation of this musical genre. On the other hand, Remo’s score is more passively integrated into the videogame. Although it accompanies events that are triggered (i.e., the accessing of journal entries), its application is closer to that of a TV soundtrack, supporting the themes of the narrative by establishing a mood that complements the emotions and thoughts of Sam and the atmosphere of the house. Remo identifies an explicit link to TV music in his commentary entry “Original Score.” Here, Remo explains how a very particular early 1990s aesthetic was desired. The TV series Twin Peaks served as a principle point of reference, as did the sound of the Fender Rhodes electric piano.

In both videogames, the narrative and sound design help to support a pure simulation of the past. By focusing on media referents, BD and GH are not responding to consumers’ search for historical truth. Instead, these videogames create a virtual representation of consumer memories. Despite the fact that the house in GH is a faithful visual embodiment of American life in the 1990s, it is the remediation of 1990s television narratives and styles which adds authenticity to the game as an object of nostalgia. Similarly, BD’s connection to the 1980s is made more strongly through movie tropes, videogame references, and musical styles than representation of historical objects of the period.

Conclusion

In this study, the construction of nostalgia-laden virtual worlds within videogames was discussed framed by Baudrillard’s theories of consumer objects and simulation and Bolter and Gruisin’s theory of remediation. Through an analysis of BD and GH, it was shown that the connection to the recent past exhibited by both videogames was established through the explicit use of mediated rather than historical referents. Unlike many recent nostalgic videogames that have primarily sought correspondence with past videogame design, BD and GH draw upon a range of media referents to great effect. The designers of these games identified a consumer desire for time travel to their childhood and satisfied these desires by allowing players to enter worlds saturated by representations of period media culture. In effect, the games successfully recreated the past by remediating popular media of the 1980s and 1990s.

By applying Baudrillard’s thinking, the intention behind this study was to seek to understand how cross-media nostalgia operates within videogames, which is arguably the medium that most typifies his notion of pure simulation. With simulation considered to be the process of the replacement of reality, it is interesting to note Baudrillard’s take on how the prevalence of simulation within our society can lead to a change in aspiration:

The imaginary was the alibi of the real, in a world dominated by the reality principle. Today, it is the real that has become the alibi of the model, in a world controlled by the principle of simulation. And, paradoxically, it is the real that has become our true utopia—but a utopia that is no longer in the realm of the possible, that can only be dreamt of as one would dream of a lost object. (Baudrillard, 1981/1994, pp. 122–123)