Is There A Right Way To Play A Video Game?

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It’s Summer 2049. A man, looking pale and frightening, is crouched down next to a shelf in a crumbling, abandoned building. He’s tightly holding onto a long pipe, covered in rust. Then, a strange and unsettling voice offers him a deal: he can have power if he’ll trade his soul for it.

“Take it,” the voice says, “and save your daughter … “

You watch the man speaking with his daughter, who is coughing frequently, and you can feel the anguish of a parent witnessing their child’s distress. When he tells her the creatures nearby won’t harm her, it’s clear he’s desperately trying to comfort his scared daughter despite the real threat they face. When he fiercely warns their attackers to stay back, his voice carries a dangerous edge. And as he pleads for assistance while holding her close, you recognize a uniquely parental fear and sorrow.

It’s Summer 2053. A young boy, barely more than a baby, is hiding in a ruined building, clutching a long, rusty pipe. A strange voice offers him a deal: strength in return for… something left unspoken, to safeguard… someone unnamed. When he tries to fight the towering monsters, it doesn’t feel as threatening as it did with his father. Instead, you sense how overwhelmed and fragile he is. When he tells the creatures to leave his sister alone, his voice is quiet and almost begging. Even as he cries out for assistance, there’s desperation, but also the unmistakable fear of a child facing a situation he’s much too young to handle.

The first of these scenes comes from the 2010 English version of Nier, and the second is from the 2021 English release. Yoko Taro, the writer and director of Nier, originally created two different versions of the game in 2010. One featured a male protagonist trying to save his sister, while the other had him trying to save his daughter. The version with the father (Nier Gestalt in Japan) was reportedly developed because Square Enix’s American marketing team believed Western audiences would connect more with an adult male lead than a young boy. When Nier was re-released in 2021 as Nier Replicant ver.1.22474487139…, Taro chose to use the boy protagonist for the English-speaking regions. As a result, the current English version of the game only features the younger protagonist.

These days, when players talk about the game, they often don’t think much about the differences between versions. While the main character is different, most of the gameplay remains the same. They generally agree that it doesn’t make a significant difference. It’s not a big deal, they say.

Doesn’t it?

It’s hard to believe these two games can feel so similar, given how different their emotional impact and viewpoints are – they just create different feelings in players. Critic Dia Lacina pointed this out in an insightful article for Vice, which inspired me to compare the opening sequences of both game versions. And honestly, they do feel quite different to me. It’s a noticeable distinction.

We’ve seen a lot of beloved classic games get remade or remastered lately. Examples include Shadow of the Colossus, Silent Hill 2, Resident Evil, Metal Gear Solid 3, Suikoden I and II, and Final Fantasy Tactics, to name just a few. It makes me wonder if players fully recognize just how much these new versions differ from the originals, especially since the original games are usually what people remember and value historically.

Movie lovers often compare the theatrical and extended versions of films like Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings, or the different edits Wong Kar-wai made to The Grandmaster (critic David Ehrlich even claimed the American cut isn’t the true version of the film). Book readers frequently discuss which translations of authors like Dostoevsky or Hugo are best. However, gamers don’t usually pay much attention to changes in a game’s story or visual style, even in games where the narrative is central to the experience.

Let’s consider Final Fantasy VII. It’s incredibly well-known – one of the most celebrated video games ever – so many players are likely familiar with it. However, what exactly *was* their experience of the game?

Perhaps you first experienced FFVII when it was originally released in Japan in 1997 on the PlayStation. Or maybe you played it when it came to America and Europe on the same console, enjoying the localized version with added gameplay. Some of you might remember the 1998 PC version from Eidos, which was notable for giving the characters mouths! Have you ever used mods, or taken advantage of newer features like the Character Booster in more recent versions of the game? And of course, some players have discovered FFVII through the condensed story of Ever Crisis on their phones.

It’s really striking how much these different releases of a classic game can vary. For instance, the original Japanese version of FFVII supposedly doesn’t include a particular flashback sequence. This scene, which happens when you explore the basement of the Nibelheim Mansion towards the game’s conclusion, is incredibly memorable and offers a poignant look at Zack Fair, a key character whose importance to the series grows over time. It’s a truly special moment and gives players a touching glimpse into his story.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the English version of the game, and it’s really fascinating. As translator and critic Tim Rogers pointed out in his videos, there are some surprising changes. For example, the dialogue seems to actually *change* how you feel about the relationship between Aerith and Zack. It’s wild! And speaking of names, it’s so strange seeing ‘Aeris’ – the name many of us remember from the original Western release – become almost forgotten, now that it’s officially Aerith. I also have to admit, the PC version’s character models with mouths… they really threw me off. Seeing Sephiroth with his mouth wide open when Aerith dies just ruined the impact of that scene, honestly. It felt so bizarre, like he was performing at an opera! Maybe if you only played the remake, you wouldn’t understand? Because let’s be real, that’s still Final Fantasy VII too, right?

If you’ve played the FFVII remake games, you’ll notice the story differs from the original. This is a big discussion among fans-whether the remake tells the same story or a new one-and there’s no easy answer. It does cover the key events, but it also adds new content, removes some elements, and revisits older scenes with changes. For example, the villain Sephiroth appears earlier in the remake than he did in the original game. Although Yoshinori Kitase originally envisioned Sephiroth as a mysterious presence, like Spielberg’s Jaws in the original, that aspect isn’t as strongly highlighted in FFVII Remake.

In Rebirth, you can briefly control Sephiroth, a stark contrast to the original game where he remained a distant, intimidating, and nearly untouchable force. The idea of controlling him was previously unimaginable. Zack, who had a minor role in the original, now plays a much larger part, and we even see him team up with Cloud to battle Sephiroth for a short time. Beyond these story changes, improvements in graphics, music, direction, gameplay, and the addition of voice acting would all combine to create a significantly different experience.

It’s surprising how readily players accept these types of alterations, however. They frequently dismiss it with a simple, “it’s still the same game.” Some even see a remake as a substitute for the original, but Polygon‘s Carolyn Petit rightly argued that this doesn’t really hold up.

The way a work is translated can significantly change its emotional impact – this is a common topic in discussions about literature and film, but less so with video games, except on a few dedicated websites or social media accounts. Take, for example, a crucial (though optional) scene in Final Fantasy VI. In this scene, Celes jumps off a cliff. The original English version, released as Final Fantasy III on the Super Nintendo, presents this act after she hears tales of others taking “a leap of faith” to find inner peace. However, more recent, accurate English translations portray it as deliberately bleak. Both versions create different feelings, and as translator Clyde Mandelin pointed out when comparing them, some players in 1996 already perceived the earlier version as somber.

The way scenes *look* can greatly affect how a piece of work is perceived. The contrast between the original Silent Hill 2 and the Silent Hill 2 remake is immediately noticeable, as many have pointed out. A common observation is that the fog in the original game is so thick it obscures character faces, creating a particularly unsettling atmosphere. Similar atmospheric changes are present in the remake of Shadow of the Colossus. Comparing the mansion in the original PlayStation version of Resident Evil to the one in the GameCube remake reveals a dramatic difference: the original has a simple, almost bland quality reminiscent of an old, deserted hotel, while the remake’s mansion is much more imposing and Gothic, like a setting from a Dracula story. To me, the original actually feels scarier because it’s more relatable – it feels like a place I could realistically find myself in.

These are all official updates, but gaming gets more complex when you consider how closely it’s connected to modding. Modding is incredibly common, especially on PC, and many players will download and use it to “improve” a game in various ways, often without thinking about how much it changes the original experience regarding graphics, sound, and gameplay. People use mods as easily as they add ketchup to their meal. These mods can make a game look “clearer,” correct translation errors for better accuracy, or even restore content that was removed. You’re told they’ll significantly improve your enjoyment. But then, which game are you actually playing?

It’s possible that there isn’t one single, perfect way to experience a game. There are just so many things that can change it, even the controls you use-like playing with a keyboard and mouse versus a console controller-can significantly affect how you feel while playing. Consider how a text-based game, such as Disco Elysium, can feel more like reading a book when played on a handheld device?

I don’t think there’s a single “correct” way to play a game-but I do think it’s good to be mindful and thoughtful when you play. This can be more challenging than just playing casually, but it’s also really rewarding, because it encourages us to appreciate how flexible games can be. When you’re faced with different editions of a game, choose carefully. Your personal favorite might not be the most popular choice, or even the developer’s preference-it will simply be the one that suits you best, for any reason.

Reimagining older games – through remakes, remasters, mods, and similar efforts – is generally a good thing, especially since it can be difficult to experience classic titles today. We should appreciate all these different versions, but also recognize each one as its own unique creation. Instead of debating which version is ‘best,’ it’s more interesting to consider the intriguing differences between these classic works in the world of video games. It’s about appreciating how each version offers a distinct experience, and reflecting on the evolution of these beloved titles. Ultimately, celebrating these variations enriches our understanding of gaming history.

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2025-09-29 20:12