I can’t recall when exactly, but at some point in my youth I sold my
soul to Nintendo. A lot of people have, actually, and Nintendo sold
them things in return. Multiple iterations of Game Boys, Nintendos,
Super Nintendos, countless nearly identical Pokémon games and an
embarrassing number of spin-offs. But gamers never doubted that
Nintendo created games for the love of the craft, rather in the pursuit
of profit. Nintendo was, in the eyes of gamers, in it for the fans.
But there is a component of that equation that should give one pause.
Is it a fallacy to assume that a company really cares about its
customers? Companies, after all, exist solely for profit; when they
don’t make money, they cease to exist. Why should Nintendo be any
different?
For gaming companies, and Nintendo especially, their bread and butter
customers have always been the hardcore fans, the dedicated followers
that purchase out of loyalty. But in recent years, and especially since
the release of the Nintendo DS and Wii, there has been a shift.
Nintendo saw the largely untapped market of casual gamers, grandmothers
and soccer moms as an incredible source of income. If they could create
games for the majority of the population, rather than the minority,
they would certainly see a huge rise in profits. The investors would be
ecstatic and everyone would be eating caviar for a long time to come.
As a result, the hardcore followers, a small subsidiary of the new
gaming population, became less important. Why should Nintendo care
about a small minority of dedicated followers when they have legions of
Wiimote-swinging grannies in their pocketbooks? Basic economics dictate
that this broader base of consumers could create more profit. Someone
would have to suffer.
Inexplicably, however, Nintendo has yet to give their fans the big
proverbial finger that everyone was expecting them to. Instead of
molding themselves into a company completely dedicated to creating
games for casual players, Nintendo did something a bit unexpected: they
made Super Smash Bros. Brawl.
The Super Smash Bros. series is likely the largest collective form of
fan service ever made. In each iteration of the series Nintendo one-ups
themselves, assiduously applying the company’s rich history in
surprising and beautiful ways. Super Smash Bros. Brawl, the newest
Super Smash Bros. game, is undoubtedly a labor of love. Nintendo has
crafted a game brimming with allusions and mythology. Lovingly created,
Brawl is testament to Nintendo’s ability to create games for both their
most dedicated cotumers and their most profitable ones.
Nothing has confirmed this more than my experiences at GameStop’s Brawl
Launch Tournament. As I stood in line waiting for GameStop to open its
doors, I realized that I was surrounded by the epitomizations of
hardcore video game fandom. The greasy-haired, pale, socially awkward
gamers that I, for some reason or another doubted the existence of,
were in my midst. As we waited in line, and between tournament rounds,
we dabbled in discussions on Brawl’s features--the new characters, the
altered game play mechanics, the new stages--and I came to a few
realizations.
For one, it became immediately obvious to me that Nintendo’s decision
to provide daily updates on the game’s features was a brilliant
business move. What better way to freely advertise a game than by
having the gamers talk about it every single day? The people who I
waited in line with knew more about this unreleased game than they
probably should have, which obviously added to the anticipation and, in
turn, hype for the game.
In addition, I realized that Nintendo deserves a fair bit of applause
for their dubious ability to create fanbases that span ages and
demographics. Though most of the line I was waiting in consisted of
young men in their mid-to-late teens, the end of the line was a bit
more varied. Middle-aged men lined up with their children, and there
were many female gamers present. Some fortunate child’s mother sat
quietly in a folding chair towards the middle of the line, exuding
maternal love.
But the most significant realization I had that night emerged in
response to my doubts as to whether Nintendo really cared about any of
the people eager to buy their game. Does it really matter, I asked
myself, what Nintendo’s reasons are for creating Brawl? Is it really
important whether the game represents a prudent financial decision or
Nintendo’s dedication to their most prized enthusiasts? Isn’t it more
important that people enjoy what they play and are spending time with
their friends and family?
Company or not, profit-seeking or otherwise, Nintendo must realize
that, at the end of the day, fun is the most important part of every
game they create. Everything is secondary after that.