The Baffling Case of Videogame Nostalgia.

"We drank dandelion wine and we reminisced

About the moment when we first met that day.

(I'm trying to watch TV)
Then we reminisced about how we first reminisced
(Oh yeah? Sounds a bit gay)" 

Brett McKenzie, Rambling Through the Avenues of Time

Us humans love a good, regular dose of nostalgia. Remembering the good times brings us closer, whether you're a few old pals re-living wild parties before the knee, backs and livers gave way, or if you're that boring kid clinging desperately onto that one time when they were actually involved in something worth remembering ("see, I am funny!"). 

This classic 'rose-tinted glasses' syndrome applies not just to memories, but to more or less anything that we like - literature, films, music, wars even - and for the most part this is fine. Nostaglia comes in two forms, however: critical nostalgia and popular nostalgia. Popular is entirely harmless; it's my generation getting excited by Blink-182 - they were great when we were 14 but looking back they're basically shit (complaints in the comments section please) - but there is no arrogance around it, no air of superiority nor snooty intellectualising. No, these traits are found instead in critical nostalgia. They see classic cultural touchstones through blinkers, and while there will always be revisionist thinkers if something is perceived as great it will take a huge amount of re-evaluation to knock it off its perch.

Sense and Sensibility is unspeakably boring; Citizen Kane is far from the great character-study film that it is seen to be; the Beach Boys are excessively annoying (Good Vibrations aside). All these would presumably get five-star reviews, when one, three and three respectively, would be more appropriate. I get the impression that a large part of this nostalgia comes from the youth - or at least the critics of the future - having it drummed into them that things such as these are 'great'. 

Nevertheless, the three mainstream cultural schools can be evaluated, rightly or wrongly, in the same way today as when they were released - that is the tools with which they were made haven't changed much in the intervening years. The English language of today is much the same as when Sense and Sensibility was published in 1811; the classic cinema techniques of shot-selection, editing etc. used now were established before Citizen Kane was filmed; musicanship hasn't improved since Pet Sounds. There is one nostalgic trend that I've yet to mention, and that is of videogame nostalgia.

Videogame nostalgia toes the line between cultural and popular nostalgia. People now approaching middle-age can look back with affection, but there are videogame critics who think Space Invaders and its ilk are genuinely good games. That the hardware on which it was developed was pathetic compared to the behemoths of today doesn't change the fact that it is bad. As adorable as they are, baby steps are still less assured that an adult's stride. Like Kane et al, Space Invaders was good upon first release, but unlike Kane it can't defend itself against the test of time - the rules have utterly changed in the 32 years since. 

Bafflingly, developers are still trying to emulate that 8-bit style. Dark Void Zero, released this year, is a nominee for Gamespot.com's Platformer of the Year award, despite being shite. It runs entirely on the fumes of nostalgia: the soundtrack is made of those 8-bit bloops and blops that only the Mario theme can get away with these days, the graphics are deliberately pixellated ( read: made worse) - and the gameplay is creaky at best. 1980s emulation can be done well: 3D Dot Game Heroes is a great modernised pastiche of early Zelda titles, but it is very much the exception. When complex and challenging games like Heavy Rain and Shadow of the Colossus are being made, 8-bit gaming is just a candle in the wind.