Goldeneye 007. This game deserves its own post, its own novel, its own movie, its own smelly rubber wristbands. This game is so damn good that I feel filthy just watching this trailer. Now it’s on Wii.
Remember those days of N64, with a room full of cousins on a holiday or a birthday sweating away the muggy bedroom because there’s like eight of us in there? No? Well I certainly do. Those were the beloved, nostalgic days of getting into fights over which cousin got to be which character and what sort of level to play in multiplayer. Hell, we got into fights just over which controller who got to use. But they were all worth it. This game is responsible for many frustrated days-turn-nights of summers long since gone where my brother and I would try to beat levels in ridiculous times just to unlock some sort of cheat that we would never even use. It was for the novelty of it. Like touching another for the first time, there was some sort of fascination – some sort of budding curiosity – to just glimpse at what was next. If even to drop it cold like a defaced ant farm littered with many unlucky garden insects due to our limited attention spans. Yes, I meant “filthy.”
But I digress. This game has been THE game that we always talk about. Whether our conversation is as serious as who the Vancouver Canucks should have drafted or how bad the Grizzlies suck, my brother and cousins and friends and anybody else who just so happened to experience the fortunate childhood pinnacle as Goldeneye can always – always – cut the conversation with a reference to this timeless game.
You have to admit, whether you fantasized about a slender, blonde Link picking you up and galloping away on his trusty steed Epona, or if you had spent many hours breaking backs in a wrestling game, you too had an instant gratified joy of shooting scientists in the bum to see them grab their ass. Even if it was Dr. Doak who necessary for your mission. It didn’t matter, not the first, second or thousandth time.
There was the gameplay, the multiplayer, the paintball mode. The grenade launcher, the throwing knives, the unarmed slap. Proximity mines, remote mines, and a fucking tank. A watch laser, a moonraker, a …well you get the point. This game had it all. If none of the previously listed things even elicits a slight increase in perspiration or elevated heart rate, you do not deserve to share my oxygen. This game is one of the few Greats (capital “G”) to absolutely guarantee playership amongst complete strangers. I bet you could pick up any random soul floating amidst ship-wrecked islands in the Bermuda Triangle and he would know what a Klobb is.
So here is the blog post saluting, giving thanks, and perhaps paying but the smallest tribute to the greatest game ever created, ever played, and ever re-made. Thank-you, Rare. You live in my heart.