Reflections in the Neon
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- Category: Brain Dump
- Published on Tuesday, 26 July 2011 14:19
- Written by RB
- Hits: 114
"So what do you think," said my companion as we dripped rainwater all over the floor of the Mr. Donuts we'd taken shelter in. "I know you've been wanting to play it for a long time."
I took a long sip of coffee and contemplated my wording.
"I just don't know. You don't get enough time to really practice and figure out the new systems. I don't know which option will allow me to play against the AI before one of these professionals jumps me and Blanka's me to death."
We both looked outside. The heavens were still open and producing enough water to quench the thirst of Somalia for months. It was getting late and there wasn't much charge on my video camera left, and my companion was wearing shorts on my advice that it would be a humid day.
Our trip to Akihabara had been a complete bust. I'd had grand misgivings about Street Fighter IV since its announcement and the initial character exhibitions of the entire Street Fighter II cast. It felt lazy, uninspired, like they hadn't even tried to progress the Street Fighter folklore and mystery. Even the setting was no more than an epilogue of sorts to a game Capcom had built most of their 90’s glory on.
In many ways, the parallels I could draw with the finished state of Street Fighter IV to the eroding state of Akihabara were ironic. Both were trying to live on past glories, firmly stuck in their ways and making few efforts to succeed in an ever-changing commercial environment. My trip had come at the height of great change in the games industry. The next generation consoles were beginning to reach some form of maturity at both ends of the globe, with the trusty stalwart of consumer stores - the PS2 - starting to fade from its ever present position in gamer lifestyles, and Nintendo moving in to take its place with the Wii. The App Store was picking up legitimate steam as a mass gaming alternative to consoles. There was now a defined place for everything; mobile platforms had games you could enjoy on the train. The Wii had more casual experiences all your friends could get involved in without needing to learn any complicated rules. The Xbox 360 and the PlayStation 3 catered more to the dedicated gamer, someone who wanted to be taken to the edge of the visceral. However, the problem for Japanese developers was that their gamers were so vastly divided on the route they should collectively take.
It had been a few years since I had previously ventured to Japan. This time around, I was somewhat removed from the eagerness and hunger to explore the surreal and wonderful of Japanese culture simply because I had already seen it with my own two eyes. This time I was in more of a guide role, taking my companion as far off the beaten track as I could remember. The dingy side streets packed with oddities and curiosities that couldn't been seen from the main strip. He was to be as disappointed as I was. Things had changed; the land had become more commercial, more sterile. The bigger stores had become open to more departments. Office furniture and gaming PCs adorned the walls of Sofmap, with games less and less prominent, certainly less incentive to buy one of their previously competitive bundles and a far cry from their early era otaku natured sale of PC-88s and X68000s. Trader2 no longer had cases of titles such as Psychic Assassin Taromaru and Rakugaki Showtime, but had instead become the place to buy countless copies of Parappa The Rapper and Metal Gear Solid. Even Super Potato's rare cabinet was troubling to the collector, full of knockoff "Special Edition" Megadrives and hacked Chinese cartridges such as the sensational Tekken Vs. VF Fighter.
The cosplay shop was still there, once a centrepiece for manga and anime society, but the choice had dramatically dwindled. Costumes were limited to the more popularist shows of the time - Naruto's jacket, and Ishigo's sword (full size, albeit plastic). The rest of the selection was souvenirs and other licensed merchandise. Mugs, pins, little diecast models were the order of the day, with the downstairs dedicated to gachapon machines - all, once again, carrying popularist characters and known icons in Japan.
Even in the arcades, there's a struggle of innovation against safety. A common theme runs across all the game centres - the most popular games on play are the ones you can grab a credit on up and down the strip and across the country. Initial D and Wangan Midnight rule the roost for those who love the roar of an engine, Street Fighter and Virtua Fighter for those interesting in smacking others around the face, and Dance Dance Revolution and Beatmania for the freestylers and b-boys. When an arcade manufacturer dares to innovate, one of two things happens to their game - it either gets incredibly little attention up against the stalwarts, or it gets shoved into the HEY arcade - possibly the only place on the Akibahara strip to still have a hardcore feel and presence - and even in this case, your game has no significance if it's not something that appeals to the Yard's very specific audience.
It doesn't take a lot of effort to find a curio store in Akihabara, but in any of these you see further evidence of the problem. Shelves and shelves of doujinshi visual novels, shooters and fighting games. Niche pursuits that have become set meals of the Japanese lifestyle.
It took a trip to Nakano Broadway in Tokyo, and Den Den Town in Osaka, to find - and fall back in love with - the bizarre and the beautiful of Japan's digital heritage. But visiting both of these places told their own stories - the weird was here, but the consumer was not. Tens of stores housing just a handful of customers compared to those aligning the paving of Akihabara. The worst thing is, it's entirely possible that Akihabara's decay is not all of its own doing, and if so it's hard to see anything in those concrete buildings than the dying embers of a fallen giant. The Japanese gaming industry is struggling to find relevance in a world no longer led by the kind of games it designs. With the exception of a few studios, most have been quick to reject the growing presence of Western inspiration and technology. Japan no longer understands how to produce design and visuals that are on the same level. Their games sell less because they are no longer the most interesting or polished, and crucially, because the game experiences are no longer the snappiest and most engrossing. It's a mired industry that understands what a certain type of consumer wants - the Japanese, and makes sure that the product it's delivering to those stores in Akihabara is the kind of safe product that will harm no one, but will not shine in the darkness either.
Dusk descended upon Akihabara, and the awnings and facades on the Club Sega's and Taito Game Centre’s across the way lit up like New York at Christmas. Racers, dancers, and fighters hustled into the various buildings, and emerged hours later, drenched in sweat, hugging their IC cards as precious records of their progress. My conversational Japanese is almost non-existent, so I could only stare with wonder at what might lie in their hearts. Do they fight for a cause and a culture that appears so lost and so cold? A commercialism that is necessary as the budgets in the industry we hold so dear continue to escalate whilst their market share continues to slip.
It was still raining. Large puddles of water ran along walkways and filtered into drains, bouncing neon back into the sky. I couldn't help but feel that water was not the only thing draining itself from Akibahara's streets.
"Let's get back to the hotel. I'm not going to be able to shoot any more footage in this today," I said.
"Yeah, perhaps we can snap some tomorrow."
Perhaps it is already too late to return.