Aw man. It's ya boy, Soulja Boy, tell 'em. They got this game, right? For people who smoke or people who drink. Like, if you drink beer and you get drunk or if you smoke weed and you get high. And you just- anything, like if you- if you just be getting fucked up.

They got this game, right, oh no. This shit called Braid. What the fuck. Watch this shit. It's about this little guy in a- in a suit and he walk around. And he ain't got no point to the game, you just walk around jumping on shit. It look like Mario in the future. And there's Mario in the business suit with his hair dyed orange and a tie on. And he just walking around jumping and shit, but what's the funny part about it is you can do this right here, watch this.
(X)
YOOP!
Now if you didn't catch that, I just went back in time. For the whole game, he just be going back in time. Watch this shit. Like, if you about to die, he be like "AW SHIT, I'M GONNA DIE!"
(X)
"WOAAAAH!!!!!!!"

Same as usual. A solo mission into the heart of an enemy base, starting naked and building a formidable arsenal with the enemy's own weapons. But, it seems the narrative has caught onto the formula.

Viewing the ingame briefings, you see the refreshed Snake in the wake of the Zanzibar Land incident. His ambiguously dark hair is a light blond, his face scruffy, he's decidedly more homely than he's ever been, but his words shed light on the life he's been living. All he does is take care of his wolves out here in Alaska, he's made a life for himself but it is decidedly alone, his abandoning of Holly wasn't a comedic jest, but rather a somber note, taking the words of his friend to heart. To avoid battle, he avoids communication, for as long as there are humans there is war. As long as he is a warrior, he will seek out war.

This bleeds into the characters we see throughout the game, all grunts who lament their own lives or feel content in death. It begins with Psycho Mantis, a man so embroiled in killing and hatred, that helping someone makes him "nostalgic" for the memory of his birth. He reflects Snake, but sees Snake as someone worse than him, someone who kills without a second thought, someone who kills not for his own reasons like the rest of FOXHOUND but because of orders. Both are sad, lonely men, but Mantis can find a personal reason in why he does what he does. In Snake he sees a hollow man.

This is commonly written off as a meta commentary, directed to the player, which it decidedly is, but it is also reflective of a man who has been in three games now where the only options are to kill. These are stealth games, but when push comes to shove, Snake is ruthless. Even if you go through the game painstakingly knocking out every guard, you're still spreading a disease of death to everyone there. Liquid's speech still rings true.

Liquid himself is an interesting character. He carries on the ideals of Big Boss while maintaining a burning hatred for the man, he cares for his genome soldier "family" and believes in the theory that love for family only exists to pass on one's genes, yet he despises Snake enough to try killing him even when it would only impede his goals. His genetic survival instinct is made to run haywire thanks to his deep hatred for those who truly bear his genes.

Ultimately, the game says that genetic destiny is a sham, and people aren't defined by their genes, but that is merely the overt text. Liquid's characterization runs deeper than just a medium to espouse the main theme of the story. He carries on Big Boss' will, but he twists it to fit his emotional state. While Big Boss wanted to ensure soldiers could always fight, always have a place for those lost in the normal world, Liquid believes in a pure warrior's philosophy. Liquid and Solid were destined to fight is what he states, the pair of them have no place among the normal world, and that is why war is needed. For people like them, for people who want to control their destiny with their bare hands.

He extols these ideas in a jingoistic fashion, that war has become impure, that the wars of before were somehow better when they were all just murder on a obscene scale. This jingoism leans into the side plot revealed in the climax, the true purpose of FoxDie. The Secretary of Defense states it clearly (in the Japanese version), that Solid and Liquid are just remnants of their former government. Houseman seeks to wipe out FOXHOUND, a remnant of that former government, and who is the only person there he wanted to save? The DARPA Chief. Kojima's expectations of the American government are in the gutter, if you couldn't tell.

To move on, we can find reflections of Snake in the other characters as well. Decoy Octopus is fittingly, a reflection of Snake's "Decoy" element. A man completely not in the know, and Octopus dies when he realizes this, much like how Snake was quickly put on the chopping block when those above him figured everyone involved knew too much. Much like a decoy, Snake also is used to lure the government's targets into sight for the FoxDie agent.

Sniper Wolf alludes to two different aspects of the player character. She speaks of her preference to viewing war from the "outside", an obvious allusion to the player, viewing these murder simulators from the outside looking in, far from the conflict but still able to derive interest from it. But, she isn't just some flat meta commentary, for she echoes Snake as well. She only kills when it's part of her orders, which is why she only maims Meryl. Snake is famously criticized in game for his devotion to orders (which as mentioned previously is a sort of meta commentary as well), though the difference between the two is that Wolf doesn't relish the battle nearly as much. Her distance keeps her away from emotional involvement, and it's only when Snake is able to close that distance through defeating her that she opens up.

Otacon's (second) most iconic lines of the game are said shortly after her death, questioning what either of them were fighting for. Truthfully, neither of them had anything like that pushing them, only a will to follow orders to the bitter end. But, Snake looks back and has a moment of introspection, telling Otacon that he'll let him know what it is after they're done, Snake is searching for meaning in this conflict as he wades through it.

The final member of FOXHOUND I can speak on is the Shaman, Vulcan Raven. A Vulcan is a "god of fire" according to a quick google search, and it's fitting that a god of fire buries himself in the coldest part of the game. Carrying with him the ever present omen of death, the raven, he is a confrontation for Snake. That if he continues following orders and killing mindlessly, he'll never stop. He'll only be dragged back into it until the day he dies, but Raven doesn't hold that against him to pathetically put himself in a superior position. He states it as a fact while still having dialogue with Snake, almost needling him into having introspection, even as he lays dying. After that, while his corpse disappears, the crows remain and force the player to encounter them again towards the climax of the game.

Meryl and Otacon are less reflective, and more receptive. They get to see the man of action, the war hero, revel in the violence. While Otacon tries to beg him to not kill the one he loves, Meryl feels pity for the man with no family, loved ones, or friends. Pity for the great war hero, a brutal realization of an awful reality- no man who kills so casually could go home and live a life of ease. Kojima took the lack of connection to any characters at the end of Metal Gear, and the abandonment of Holly at the end of Metal Gear 2 to really run with this lonesome warrior idea, to truly expose any love or admiration for this Hollywood ideal.

This seeming hatred for war on Kojima's part may make him seem like a hypocrite, when the game is filled with real weapons and tools used in war (though with their accuracy flubbed for the sake of gameplay), but there's this essential separation. Enjoyment found in Hollywood movies and these tools don't have to effect your mindset or your work- it shows a maturity on Kojima's part to still hold this love or fascination to this day, but to have made such a teardown of many ideas he's probably adored in the past. It echoes Hayao Miyazaki's pacifist sentiments, yet Miyazaki himself fantasizes about World War II era bombers and even drew a manga from the perspective of the Nazis and the Soviets in the war.

Back to the point, the game does a beautiful job handling the multiple endings, instead of giving us one worthwhile ending and another obligatory "Bad End", both give you thematic and narrative satisfaction. The only punishment is Snake's minute long rant about how he's a loser for getting selfish and letting Meryl die, but the game doesn't stop and tell you to try again in order to get Naomi's final speech or the final dialogue with Ocelot.

Speaking of the ending, we get to see something Kojima would be notorious for including in some of his games. Once all is said and done, before the credits roll, Kojima shows what he believes is important. He lists recorded statistics for the amount of nuclear bombs in the world in the 1980s, and then a promise from Russia and America to lower their individual counts by the end of 2000, to reach a goal of 3000 nukes at most.

But, as of 1998, there were still 26000. As of January, 2022, there still exists over 12000 nuclear weapons, 90% of them belonging to Russia and America. The world can never truly breathe easy while these weapons remain available to those who would seek to destroy elements they deem undesirable.

Biohazard RE:2 is a game that prefers to forget its legacy in favour of mass marketability. It is the ultimate embodiment of the futility of remaking a piece of media, and comes off more as a sigh of frustrated contempt for its origins rather than anything truly celebratory or appreciative.

Obviously, that opening statement is incredibly hyperbolic and opinionated. Not every remake needs to feel like it owes everything to its predecessor, nor does every remake need to respect that origin in its adaptation. But, every remake will inevitably find itself compared to that original and inevitably it will expose the tendencies and desires of those most intimately working on it.

To discuss RE:2, we first must discuss the issues, cultures, and ultimate success of the original, as well as the state of the franchise leading up to the release of its remake. The development timeline of the original Biohazard 2 and the games that followed has always been obscured and hard to follow, but over the years many fans have been able to sketch out a rough developmental period, placing 2 at the start of a mass franchising of the series. Towards the end of its development, several projects were greenlit, in discussions, or already being developed, including its own sequel (Then titled BIO3, later named BIO4), three spin-offs (Gun Survivor, Last Escape (then called Gaiden), and a GBC title), as well as a pseudo-sequel side story (Code: Veronica), and a full fledged prequel (Zero). The impetus for all of this was the explosive success of BIO HAZARD earlier in 1996, and a lot of faith was placed in Biohazard 2 to recapture that success and expand upon it, to not just save Capcom from any potential turmoil, but to lift the company up to its highest highs and create something beyond just a simple duology of games.

Shockingly, such a gamble proved successful. While not every game in development succeeded, the success of 2 in spite of its rough development period spurred the franchise to blossom into what it is today, or rather, what it was in the 2000s. The state of Biohazard in the "FLAGSHIP" era of 1998 to 2005 is quite unlike the current "RE Engine" era of 2017 to now, and the issues leading up to both of them were drastically different.

Capcom in 1998 wanted a franchise, something that could have longtime fans who would be all over a complete media mix. Video games, sound dramas, novels (both a 'Perryverse' in the west, and canonical side stories in the east), films, amusement park attractions, even an early stage production. Echoes of this still exist today with the recent Death Island and the many stage productions the franchise saw in the 2010s.

But, we arrive at the early days of the RE Engine era divorced from the successes of Biohazard. After the series' lead writing team was dissolved, and its narrative guru in Noboru Sugimura passed away, the franchise briefly spiraled until reaching a pseudo conclusion with Biohazard 5. The idea then was a similar gamble to the one made in 1998, by putting several titles into development and resurrecting the franchise once more, only for it to fail completely. Biohazard 6 ended up being too massive to ever realistically succeed, Revelations was briefly looked upon as a serviceable title, but was ultimately forgotten when time came to port it, and Operation Raccoon City was a dismal affair that, while moderately successful, saw Slant Six closing its doors due to the game not meeting expectations.

Biohazard had effectively died, and was in dire need of rebooting, otherwise Capcom would have to close the casket on their most successful and iconic IPs at the time. So, they looked towards the past. Ports of Biohazard (2002) and Zero were released, alongside an episodic sequel to Revelations, all testing the waters of what appealed most to fans, and fans desired a return to the Flagship era of the franchise. This led to the once upon a time infamous "We do it!" video, where a Biohazard 2 remake was announced.

But, an issue arises when developing such a remake in what was the current state of Capcom. Biohazard 7 wouldn't release and receive unanimous praise until the remake was already well underway, so it too was another entry point, a way to welcome in new fans despite the original title being an explosive way to take fans of the surprisingly popular BIO HAZARD, and make them dedicated to a franchise.

What results is a game that exudes an air of contempt for what the original game accomplishes, intentional or not. Character motivations and narratives extending outside this title are effectively neutered, unfortunately reducing the narrative roles of Claire and Ada to side character territory (despite the former being the playable other half of the game), and leaving key plays like William Birkin or Brian Irons as mere footnotes in the grand scheme of things. It has no interest in pursuing the grander tale that was once constructed, and would rather focus all of its attention on the masculine, as if in an attempt to broaden its appeal further.

In the original Biohazard 2, it was often joked that Claire was the true main character. While Leon was often pushed around by his contemporaries, and was ultimately uninvolved with the machinations of the antagonists, Claire confronts both Brian Irons and Annette Birkin, having full dialogue scenes with them. Claire's scenario shines the most light on Sherry and the G-Virus, along with being the only character able to develop a vaccine for it. This isn't to undermine Leon's narrative, which is a far more personal scenario, focused on the slow character development of Ada and how Leon causes her to grow, but it is to state that Claire was a strong female character.

The Claire of the remake is not that. The scene that makes this clear is her meeting with Brian Irons, and it goes from a scene where she slowly wrestles some control her way, to one where she is tied up and forced to watch a rapist and a murderer drag away a little girl. Her second confrontation with the man only makes this worse, as she doesn't even speak to him, he only dies in a way not unlike how Kenshiro from Hokuto no Ken would deal with the scum of the wastelands. Her agency and control is robbed in these scenes, and beyond them her attachment to the narrative of the game is tenuous at best, with her role being truly reduced to the babysitter type, not even getting to wield the rocket launcher in her final boss fight.

Much of the focus for this remake seems to have been placed on Leon, in a desperate attempt at marketability if I were to be cynical. He is the character with two completely distinct costumes he wears throughout the game, he is the character who has the more emotional connection to Marvin, he is the character that the true final boss, Mr. X, is after in the labs. It is made clear time and again that he is the main character, and that Claire's role is secondary, or even tertiary, by comparison.

But, this doesn't mean his role in the narrative is well constructed. He may have the greater focus, but he loses so much in this title that it is almost unbearable. In the original and subsequent games, his greatest desire is to protect and save people, and that is why he became a police officer. In the remake, it is often shown that his desire to be a police officer supersedes his desire to protect people, best shown through how his interactions with Ben have changed, going from wanting to get him out of his cell and get him out of the city, to being dismissive of his concerns and just watching as he dies. It's such a stark contrast in scenes that it is shocking the remake version was included, but it shines a light on the shallowness of the remake, how little it wants to do with the original game.

It is almost a complete inversion of it. From four completely unique scenarios, to one scenario with three slight variations. From a man who wants to save people so he becomes a cop, to a guy who becomes a cop and doesn't really save anyone. From a strong female character, to a female character that is literally saved by the grotesque monster of a man. From a spy that learns how to open up and feel compassion for everyone (this is why she appears no matter what to give the rocket launcher in the original), to a spy that only gives into a more carnal lust for our protagonist. From actually well written antagonists, to one note caricatures in Annette and Irons.

Annette Birkin is by far the character that receives the worst treatment among the side cast come this remake. She goes from a woman who loves her daughter more than anything, despite being an absent mother, to a woman who barely knows her daughter exists. Someone whose last scene is more clearly meant to be the spiteful "Got you" in Leon's scenario, rather than the one of her daughter grieving over her corpse. A character so shallow and worthless that the narrative tries its best to forget she exists the moment she dies, her own daughter talking about playing happy families in the conclusion.

The ending is one of the worst offenders narratively as well. The original concludes on a promise of more, that these characters haven't lost hope- if anything, this has only emboldened them to go further. In Claire's case, this is revealed to be a negative trait, but it is a strong note to end on, our main cast knowing they could be out of the woods, and deciding to continue fighting. The remake chooses to end on a confused note, a shallowly happy ending where the characters act out the most vapid casual dialogue possible (an issue that persists in any scenes that feature both leads), and all that happened is forgotten.

"1998... I'll never forget it" rings hollow in the face of this ending, as it has been forgotten already. Both narratively, and in a meta sense- we have forgotten 1998. We have forgotten the struggles of Kamiya, Sugimura, and the rest of the staff. The passion that went into the original work, as well as the hope that they could continue striving forward.

Ultimately, Biohazard RE:2 has no interest in any of this, wishing to merely be another product bearing the name Biohazard, rather than anything truly meaningful under the hood. I don't discuss the themes in depth all that much because they aren't present, or are so reduced in scope as to be flaccid and not worth mentioning, unlike the original title. This is less a game, and more a product of the general ethos of Biohazard. Clean, sterile labs from the films, a Raccoon City of wide streets and traffic jams, music that is rarely present so that the scare noises are all the more noticeable, character and environment designs that do more to blend in than actually be something. Looking at the poster on this page, the game is trying to evoke the time tested blue-orange, a set of innately appealing colours to a viewer's eyes. It lacks distinction or class, leaving only a product to be consumed.

I can feel nothing other than contempt for this game, deigning itself to be more 'product' than 'art'.

After over a decade of watching people talk about it, it was exciting to see none of those videos ever managed to relay how perfectly adorable of a package this game is. From the cutest fucking hub areas to the actual stages, there's surprisingly little I'd want NOT to be in the game. It's just all so precious. This would have slotted in so well with all my childhood games and probably turned me into a better? worse? person for it, but instead I'm on the bad timeline where I played Heroes instead. Anyway, no doubt one of my favorite games this year and I doubt there'll be any Sonic game I have yet to play that I'll enjoy this much.

so glad something like this can exist today. crisis core is probably one of the most expressively “edgy” mid to late 2000s games i’ve ever played - edgy in the sense that it’s filled with stylized teenage blood pumping action and nomura character designs fit for its audience - it’s so gratifying that this era of games can still remain relevant. in 2022 i’m watching a pre rendered fmv of smug long-sworded swordsman do battle on the edge of a nuclear cannon while the hardest drum n bass heavy guitar infused battle music beckons alongside. crisis core’s essence has remained untouched.
while the story is very clearly flawed in a handful of areas (specifically genesis’ handling), zack is still just such a joy to watch, despite the unfortunate decline in voice quality compared to the original. i can look past a lot of flaws because of how heartwarming the story and surprisingly great the gameplay are. every grievance i had with the original’s combat has been completely fixed to my shock. still has the bones of its psp blueprint but its a lot more fluid now and isn’t as easy to bore.

this is for sure the definitive version of crisis core to play with the visual and mechanical upgrades alongside some new bonus content and remixed music. but… i still do think the original is worth playing, being a bit of a time capsule for that era of the ff7 compilation and height of the psp; pushing the hardware to the limits alongside attempting the ambitious endeavor of further contextualizing one of the most beloved titles in the medium. nowadays there’s a lot less risk for square to do something like this, what with basically anything ff7 selling like hotcakes today lol. anyway i had a ton of sentimental fun reminiscing the compilation days while playing this, great remaster!

the erasure of an era. whereas the original title thrives off of the glory of its 2000s commercialized suburbia, here we get…. yakuza 0’s kamurocho copied and pasted. even the gameplay is unfortunately a victim to this flagrant plagiarism. to give credit where credit is due, it’s still fun to play with the additions to 0’s combat, but sadly i can’t praise kiwami any more than that. bosses that were once quick and somewhat painless are now quadruple-health-bared damage tanks, with annoying health regeneration to boot. i would be more lenient if the special heat actions you can perform on the bosses were unique to each one, but nope. it’s the same moves every time. even more 0 pandering forces its way in with majima everywhere and the soundtrack. majima everywhere is a huge tonal disconnect from majima’s character narratively, because apparently we needed to cater to… actually i’m not even sure who would claim majima’s only defining characteristic to be his silliness. who is majima everywhere for exactly? also quite honestly him showing up at random times frequently ruined my pace, and it doesn’t help that you fight the same majima styles over and over. to add insult to injury i was flabbergasted that they locked an entire style behind this randomized time waster. last but not least is the soundtrack, which decided to inherit the techno-dubstep overlays of 0. the remixed tracks aren’t bad per se but they lack any distinctive personality that the original tracks had so much of.
what a strange game. kiwami is stuck between the crossroads of whether it wants to be its own thing, a sequel to 0, or retain the integrity of the original game. i don’t think there’s any malicious intent here, but what makes it worse is that this suppression of the original title was essentially done by accident. the laziness is rampant in how much is stolen from 0. i wouldn’t call it a bad game, however i would most certainly define it as a poor remake.

probably one of the coldest takes imaginable especially on this site, but whatever — here goes. i'm typically pretty weary of video game remakes. i don't find myself immediately opposed to the idea of remaking classics when that kind of discourse makes its weekly round on Twitter and whatnot, but my preferences for that sorta thing tend to be pretty specific. the remakes I tend to enjoy the most are the ones that take the initiative in carving out their own identity as an experience — not necessarily existing separately from their source material, but alongside; companion pieces, almost. I don't care as much for straight faithfulness as much as I do reinterpretation, and that's what makes a remake so interesting to me.

you probably see where i'm going with this, but conversely I usually tend to be apathetic towards remakes that place a focus on copying their counterparts one to one. games that aren't really developed to be remakes, but replacements. obviously there's a myriad of inherent issues with taking this approach - you can't toss the vision of one team into another's lap and expect it to play it out perfectly, but the most grueling question of all to me is - why even bother?

this was kind of cemented for me a few days ago when I was playing the Resident Evil 4 remake's demo, not exactly a substantial portion of the game, but enough to get a general gist of what the action would look like. more than anything, I was kind of shocked at how intact, for lack of a better term everything was - the entire village fight is not at all dissimilar to how it plays out in the original, i was able to ease into the chaos so quickly because the layout and combat philosophy was virtually the same - line the villagers up, land a headshot, then go in for the kick. and you know what, it's not really a bad thing to be like the original RE4 per se, because RE4 is really fun! the simple but versatile nature of this on the fly puzzle solving gunplay hasn't gotten dull at all… but if this game plays exactly like Resident Evil 4, then why wouldn't I just play Resident Evil 4? what's even the point of this? why try to fix what wasn't broken to begin with?

even more head scratching is the stigma that comes with this sort of thing. for example, take a look at this excerpt from IGN's review of the RE4 remake.


"In preparation for this review I returned to the original game for the first time in years and was shocked at how badly this remake was needed. The movement of main star Leon Kennedy felt ridiculously restricted; he struggles to get around as though he’s wearing an old pair of skinny jeans that haven’t fit him since his police academy days, and is immobilized anytime he gets his gun out as though he’s incapable of independent control over his hands and feet at the same time. By modern standards it’s absurd, and would absolutely put off a lot of newcomers before they could begin to understand why this game is so highly regarded."


ignoring the fact that this is an absolutely insane thing to say about one of the most mechanically satisfying games ever, it does kind of answer the lingering question I've been posing throughout this review - why bother remaking these games? the answer, of course, is because they're too old. for whatever reason, unlike any other art medium, games are forever doomed to be treated as machinery almost, with metal parts that rust and degrade over time, as if so much of the design in these games weren't very deliberate choices and are simply just 'products of the time'. sadly, a lot of people, including companies see it this way, and we're probably always going to be destined to see so many more classics get "fixmakes." shame.

(i wanted to avoid this "review before a review" shtick, but got kind of sidetracked. oh well…)

somehow, RE2make manages to almost entirely avoid all of this. this is exactly what I would have imagined the series would look like today if they strayed away from action and continued down that claustrophobic survival horror road; not a retreading of ideas prior, but rather an evolution. it is genuinely astonishing how seamlessly they were able to translate the fundamentals of classic RE to this over the shoulder style of play - inventory management, efficient routing, ammo conservation… it's all here and fine-tuned to perfection.

for example, in the original, you'd generally want to stray away from engaging with enemies because not only would you be burning through ammo, but you'd also be risking damage as well - the tank controls added a layer of risk to going guns akimbo, having to stand still and adjust your shot to just the right angle for the auto aim to save you - not very easy in the heat of the moment. in the remake, you of course have a much more open range of movement, as well as standard free pointer aim. in theory, this should make dealing with enemies a lot more swift, but surprisingly, not at all! enemies are tougher to compensate for the free aim but not exactly damage sponges - the game still encourages running past them by making them hard to kill although easy to evade, you could shoot out their legs to slow them down, or quickly fire a round at their head to stun them and run past. power weapons still deal with the fodder quite easily, but the ammo economy is rather scarce, forcing you to take into heavy consideration your usage of them.

the way the two systems operate are very different, but in the end both achieve the same, almost suppressive on the fly micro-management, and that's really what it's all about — RE2make is a vastly different game than the original — granted, it's been a while since i beat the original, there are times playing this where I found it completely unrecognizable from its source, but make no mistake, it still, at its core, very much captures Resident Evil 2. i don't have much more to bring to the table when it comes to RE2make's own design achievements or its radically overhauled story because the top two reviews for this game dissect that way better than I ever could (on top of generally just being some of the finest reviews on the site), nevertheless ultimately I think I'm just happy that this game fuckin' gets it, man.

this isn't exactly praise but most of my qualms with the game lie in the back half with the sewer and lab as you've probably heard echoed a lot, yet in a fucked up sort of way, i'm happy that these are faults that stand on the game's own two legs rather than in contrast to the original. don't get me wrong - faults nonetheless, some miserable moments in those setpieces, however it represents a want by the developers to, as I remarked about other remakes earlier, carve out a unique identity for this one, and sometimes it falls flat, but at the end of the day I respect that immensely.

so - which one is better? truthfully, this is a copout but my answer would be that i like them both equally. they both have their faults and strengths, there are some things the original does better, there are some things the remake does better, yadda yadda yadda. my real answer, however, is who gives a shit? i just think it fucks that we can have two different resident evil 2s, and it doesn't hurt that they're both great games. not doomed to fight each other in a tragic eternal hellfire of internet discourse to see which one did it better, but co-existing rather, as companion pieces. because it's not trying to be a replacement, but a reimagining - just a different take. play this game and play the original.