Updating PS2-era games to make them more available to contemporary audiences is therefore a solid goal without this work, while the PS2 originals would continue to exist on many millions of discs out there, they would be increasingly inaccessible to most players simply because of the difficulty in getting them up and running on consoles that people actually own. Simply archiving old games in some kind of museum, whether it be real or virtual, is certainly important but it doesn't actually live up to the real promise of cultural preservation, which is ensuring ongoing access to old titles for new audiences. On some levels, what Rockstar set out to do - leaving aside the fact that they ultimately did it very, very badly - was a very positive thing from the perspective of preserving access to games. What I do think is worthy of thinking about more carefully, however, is the implications of the GTA Definitive Edition brouhaha for one of the most thorny and complex problems the industry faces (or, all too often, pointedly refuses to face): the question of how we preserve access to the cultural history of video games as a medium. At least Cyberpunk 2077 fell on its face while reaching for some ambitious goals, while the GTA Definitive Edition manages to trip over its own shoelaces while reaching for nothing more lofty than getting a PS2 game to run smoothly on a PS5 - a system which, for those keeping score at home, has something in the range of 1,700 times more raw graphical and processing power than the PS2 did.Ī lot of words have been written and many hours of video recorded about the problems with the Definitive Edition over the past week and, beyond registering my own disappointment and annoyance, I don't have anything to add to the uproar from consumers.
In some ways, GTA Definitive Edition is less of an outright disaster than Cyberpunk 2077 was at launch - it's at least actually playable on all of its target platforms - but in others, it's far less forgiveable. In some ways, GTA Definitive Edition is less of an outright disaster than Cyberpunk 2077 was at launch but in others, it's far less forgiveable Within a few days it was clear that I'd dodged a bullet the shambolic launch of the Definitive Edition is being touted as this year's Cyberpunk 2077, a highly-anticipated title being released in such a brutally low-quality and unfinished state that it's simply impossible to imagine that the company wasn't completely aware of the problems and still chose the cynical path of launching the game without letting anyone actually see it running before many consumers' money was already safely in their hands.
#TEXT BASED MAFIA BROWSER GAME SCRIPT SERIES#
Ultimately, the only reason I didn't buy a copy is because I wanted to wait and see if there was any notable difference between the Xbox Series X and PS5 editions - plus, I guess, a nagging sense that the last thing my game backlog needs right now is three of the most enormous and absorbing titles of the 2000s popped right on the top of the stack. I knew there weren't any reviews or hands-on pieces about the remastered games yet, but I figured that in the worst case scenario, even a fairly low-effort remastering would still leave intact everything that made these games so iconic - just with a better resolution and frame-rate, and hopefully some improved controls on the earlier games.
The night that the GTA Trilogy Definitive Edition launched, my finger hovered over the buy button in the PlayStation Store for a pretty long time.
0 kommentar(er)
