Tutto ciò che has an beginning, is
destined to have a end, sooner or
later. Microsoft has announced the official closure of the digital marketplace
belonging to its legendary XBOX 360, and the world of entertainment has
suffered an epochal shock, destined to make history.
Se fossimo all’interno di un open
world with a western feel like Red Dead Redemption, the one in which we would
find ourselves riding would be a frontier land, treacherous and full of holes
dangerous for our mounts: if we replaced the barren plain
lashed by hot winds with the roster of consoles currently existing
on the market and the rough terrain with the questionable choices of Sony, Microsoft e Nintendo regarding the
digital and the business behind it, we would have a clear and
transparent picture of the direction the industry is taking.
A dire horizon with devastating repercussions on video games
as a product, certainly, but also and above all a warning, perhaps
the last, of how important it is to preserve
what we gamers love so much and which risks becoming a distant past,
irrecoverable, lost forever in the stormy digital sky, made of clouds
gray, not coincidentally the name is precisely clouds.
As was logical to think, on social media and more generally in the boundless ocean of the web, all hell broke loose, in full Massimo Decimo Meridio style: hordes of industry insiders caught off guard, them again, at the news of Bill Gates’ leviathan, latecomer gamers who panicked, crying out a universal conspiracy by the major publishers, and, as punctual as only those who had been waiting for nothing else to raise their heads after years of stumbles, a well-known chain of video game retailers winked at consumers with an air of superiority, climbing onto a moral podium that perhaps wobbles a little under that weight, but posterity will render the difficult judgment.
La vérité est que l’importance du Videogioco Fisico a été volontairement
sous-estimée par ceux qui, jusqu’à hier, dénigraient et se moquaient de ceux qui
avaient vu juste. Des personnes qui aiment le média du jeu vidéo, des passionnés avec des décennies de
parties, de scores et de plaisir au compteur, qui faisaient la moue,
à juste titre, aux premiers signes d’introduction de DLC, de abonnements premium
numériques et ainsi de suite.
Let’s make a little clarity here: at the
moment we accept the contractual terms when we create an online account,
we must submit to the rules and requirements of the supplying company;
no one forces us to tick the “I accept” box, and therefore it is our choice, exactly like
deciding whether or not to read all the online contractual documents that explain
in detail how intricate the forest of points, conditions, and constraints is
that will allow us, once we have said “yes,” to play with the products that
the company in question makes available to us. Unpopular opinion? I don’t think so, it’s just a matter of facing
reality.
Questo means that it is up to us consumers to decide whether to go digital and not be far-sighted but to enjoy the moment for what it is (as such, a digital game has already had its death date largely decided, a Death Note written in pixelated ink) or enhance our shelves with the physical and think about the future. On the one hand we buy the license but not the game, on the other we make dreams and fun our own, potentially forever. And forever is a very long time, as far as I know, much longer than the duration of a cold and relentless license.
Listen carefully when I tell you: we do not own what we buy, in a
context like this. Repeat it with me. And then let’s start changing things.
Le realities that sell retrogames, a term with which we now
define everything in gaming that is older than us or almost, work
above all on the concept of passion, and at this point another
fundamental question must be raised to fully understand the significance of
the shutdown at Xbox: is it worth preserving the historical memory of the consoles and titles that
were, in a world that is accelerating more and more toward total digitalization?
It
is really so important to take a step back, returning to give the right
value to the sacred trinity: case-booklet-cartridge?
(Yes, I know, cartridges are no longer used, but I’m sure you know what I mean!).
Yes. It is worth three thousand, that
a Marvel Cinematic Universe quote at this point really fits well.
We have spoken of the present and
the future, however it is to the past that we must turn our gaze, there where
wonderful titles are nestled, inextricably linked to our memories and to our
hearts.
The Xbox 360 one is not the first marketplace to be sealed
off forever, to begin with: the previous ones are illustrious and should already
have planted the classic seed of doubt in us when, in 2019, so not even that long ago if
we’re being honest, Nintendo decided to shut down the servers linked to the Wii, an illustrious
precursor console to the current Switch: the
disappearance of the Wii Shop marked the end of all the content present; many
indie titles and others drawn from Nintendo’s glorious past and that are no longer
available anywhere have in fact been lost forever.
E
and forever, as I was telling you before, it is a very long period, remember?
Niche titles, others
developed by independent studios and perhaps less commercially appealing than
others, and yet is it really so important to quibble when it comes to
intellectual properties that will vanish like tears in the rain? We will lose
forever Dr.Luigi, Pokemon Rumble U and Street of Rage for 3DS, and if you have
an age that in the tens includes at least the number four, then you realize
how important it was to bring back a title like the Sega side-scrolling beat ’em up, I’m convinced.
Tutto questo however does not concern
only the intellectual properties of the Big N of Kyoto: with the closure
of the Xbox 360 marketplace, in fact, by browsing here and there on the web, you will be able to
see for yourselves which and how many titles can no longer ever be
found, and therefore played and collected. Of course, to be fair we must admit
that not all are memorable, often the result
of marketing actions aimed at riding the wave of online multiplayer games
or nonsensical nostalgia operations with reboots we did not deserve
and did not feel we needed, however being aware that certain
video games have reached the end of the line, marking their definitive Game Over for which there will be no possibility of
inserting coins and continuing the game from where we left off, well,
I find that this is a defeat for the video game medium and for the preservation
of historical memory in and of itself.
Qui we are not dealing only with a
strictly commercial battle, fought with launch offers, merchandising
and attractive DLCs packed full of skins to download and weapon-unlock codes
for upgraded weapons: the sinking of digital
preservation services and their relative dumping ground, I would not know how to define it
otherwise, of videogames destined for lasting oblivion carries with it dangerous
consequences, such as the impossibility of allowing an eternal dissemination of the
titles that made us dream, colorful, fun worlds dominated by
heroes and heroines who will no longer have the chance to embody those ideals that helped us grow up,
conveying messages often much deeper and more meaningful than the tons of
audiovisual trash that today’s television networks serve up at all hours
of the day and night.
In addition, the Physical Video Game, besides being a precious, concrete, and tangible good as the bricks of Super Mario and as exquisitely real as the courage of Nathan Drake and Lara Croft, carries with it a legacy impossible to replicate by the digital world, and so another burden, as heavy as a boulder, is cast into the depths of our glorious past as gamers: how many of you had the opportunity to lend your beloved video games to friends, thus making it possible to play lots of titles while exchanging opinions, laughter, and teasing, a treasure chest of emotions and sensations that only those who handled that special trio I mentioned before, box-manual-cartridge, could feel firsthand.
Reflections, these, which lead us to a very important consideration that is not only a warning for the future, but also a bright hope for what will be in the video game industry: in my opinion, the chain closure of marketplaces, those of the past, the current ones, and those that will inevitably come, can become an opportunity.
The opportunity to restore Physical Video Games to their former splendor as such, freeing themselves once and for all and completely from the gray digital lands: our titles can once again become goods to be exchanged among users and collectors, inviolable and immortal guardians of pixel dreams and cradles of fun. But the video game is also a product,
let us not forget, something that comes into being thanks to the work and creative
and entrepreneurial efforts of so many, many people, and at the moment it becomes
the property of the people who bought it and played it, it is our
duty to preserve it, to make sure that if we are not the ones to collect it and give it a
place on the shelf next to the television, other people will be, just as passionate
as we are and who have decided to grant it the eternity it deserves.
Preserving the past to give meaning to the present and build the future. All this depends on us, who eat bread and video games and are proud of it.
Why am I sure that Sam from
The Lord of the Rings was absolutely right.
“There is still some good in this world, Master Frodo”