Series Foreword How can someone create a breakthrough game for a mobile phone or a compelling work of art for an immersive 3D environment without under- standing that the mobile phone and the 3D environment are different sorts of computing platforms? The best artists, writers, programmers, and designers are well aware of how certain platforms facilitate certain types of computational expression and innovation. Likewise, computer science and engineering have long considered how underlying computing systems can be analyzed and improved. As important as scientific and engineering approaches are, and as significant as work by creative artists has been, there is also much to be learned from the sustained, intensive, humanis- tic study of digital media. We believe it is time for humanists to seriously consider the lowest level of computing systems and their relationship to culture and creativity. The Platform Studies series has been established to promote the investigation of underlying computing systems and of how they enable, constrain, shape, and support the creative work that is done on them. The series investigates the foundations of digital media— the computing systems, both hardware and software, that developers and users depend upon for artistic, literary, and gaming development. Books in the series will certainly vary in their approaches, but they will all share certain features: • a focus on a single platform or a closely related family of platforms • technical rigor and in- depth investigation of how computing tech- nologies work • an awareness of and a discussion of how computing platforms exist in a context of culture and society, being developed on the basis of cul- tural concepts and then contributing to culture in a variety of ways— for instance, by affecting how people perceive computing. [x] Acknowledgments I have to start by thanking Martin Picard, who has contributed to the ideation and the creation of this book in many ways. Martin provided guidance to help me explore the Japanese aspect of the platform, direct- ing me to major academic references and other helpful resources. He also assisted with the translation of advertisements and other paratextual elements. Special thanks to John Aycock for his dedication and support, which allowed me to decipher some of the most peculiar aspects of PC Engine technology. I want to acknowledge the implicit contribution of my dear colleagues and friends Bernard Perron and Dominic Arsenault. Their meticulousness, their longing for better scholarship, and most of all their companionship provided the right balance of academic pressure and support. I hope every scholar reading this book can eventually benefit from a similar professional environment. I also want to thank Douglas Sery and the Platform Studies overseers, Ian Bogost and Nick Montfort. The latter was involved more directly throughout the project, providing vital direction, feedback, and encouragement. Finally, I wish to express my deepest gratitude to the following people for their support and inspi- ration throughout the writing process: Noëlline Therrien, Claude Ther- rien, Isabelle Lefebvre, Steve Giasson, Gabrielle Trépanier Jobin, Alison Harvey, Philippe Bédard, Anick Bergeron, Alexandre Poirier, Maude Bonenfant, Pierre- Yves Montpetit, Hugo Montembault, Mikaël Julien, Francis Lavigne, Simon Dor, Pascale Thériault, Guillaume Roux- Girard, Jean- Charles Ray, Roxanne Chartrand, Marc- André Primeau, Jonathan Lessard, Adam Lefloic Lebel, Andréane Morin- Simard, Simon- Pierre Weiskopf, Louis Picard, Douglas Alves, Alexis Blanchet, Joleen Blom, and Joëlle Gauthier. A preliminary version of chapter 1 has been published in New Media & Society (Therrien and Picard 2015). Chapter 3 is based on a previous publication in Well Played (Therrien 2015a). [xii] Introduction Is There a Platform in This Book? The concept of expandability is hard to dissociate from our experience of video games. Throughout the history of the medium, we are continuously led to expect more from our digital toys. The enthusiasm for cutting- edge iterations of famous series from major studios and for ever more HD video game consoles is contagious. We are convinced our gaming horizons need to expand, and new technology conveniently happens to be there to feed our dreams. As we grow up, video game technology does too. The life expectancy of any given platform amounts to only a few years before new members are added to our favorite corporate lineages. Game fans work hard to keep track of all the previous generations that took part in the evo- lution of the medium. A suspiciously regular rejuvenation process marks out the enthralling forward march of technology. Such regularity shapes the phenomenon through cycles that are easier to comprehend than the underlying complexity; these cycles become significant in and of them- selves. We are already hard at work celebrating the most edifying pieces of hardware of each generation, along with the great men— somehow, mostly men— responsible for these striking innovations or their success- ful commercialization. The biological metaphor of hardware generations brings technology closer to us. It also distorts the actual temporality and intricacies of tech- nological evolution. Video game technology has been and continues to be incredibly volatile; in the Atari 2600 or the Nintendo Wii’s “lifetime,” many underlying and co- defining technological layers have shifted in a matter of months. Production chains for storage components have been rationalized to minimize costs. Development applications were custom- ized to maximize performance. Programming tricks were discovered and reverse engineered throughout the gamemaking community. How can we define a platform in the context of an ever- changing technological environment? While they undeniably fossilize in popular imagination, are these platforms effectively providing stability for anyone? For game developers, the complex interactions between hardware components, middleware applications, customized development software, and produc- tion imperatives have led to hectic technological rhythms, far removed from the reassuring simplicity communicated through the idea of the 8- bit or 16-b it generation. Gamers have been invited to jump on these fast- moving and shaky “platforms” from the very onset of domestic video gaming. Throughout history, most home computers have been “repurposed” as an expand- able game machine. While potential work benefits justified the hefty price tag, one might suspect it was actually the game factor that initiated such expensive purchases in many instances. Every piece of hardware that has been sold as a personal computer— from the Apple II, the ZX Spectrum, the PC- 88, all the way up to your contemporary MSI or Lenovo laptop— features expansion slots or was customized at the moment of purchase from a variety of scalable technological components. Every major hard- ware producer regroups/brands its components in terms of broad tech- nological generations (the Intel x86 series, the Motorola 68000 series, the GeForce 6 series ...), each defined by refinements to the production technology, the number of transistors, or the corollary range of instruc- tions or polygons that can be processed every second. The disparity that emerges when all these components are assembled in a single unit makes the personal computer experience anything but a walk on stable ground. The complex branding system of these components does more than obfuscate potential customers with the “clarity” of numbers; it under- scores the frenetic rhythm of technological production that is so essen- tial to our obsolescence economy. A quick glimpse at listings of GeForce graphics cards or Intel motherboard products makes the case all the more obvious. In this book, I propose to study one of the rare instances where expandability was marketed to the masses. As its name suggests, the PC Engine was meant to integrate the expansive nature of personal comput- ers in the world of consoles. In 1989, the second Japanese iteration of the console was named “CoreGrafx”; this new name pointed out the system’s status as a core engine to be expanded upon. From its very inception, NEC and Hudson’s design plan included the first CD expansion in video game [2] history, the CD- ROM2. Throughout the console’s “lifetime,” the PC Engine shifted shapes repeatedly; different components were reassembled and repackaged. Counting Japanese and American releases, and including the core system, CD expansions, and handhelds, thirteen models have been released (hence the book’s complicated subtitle: PC/CORE/TURBO/ ENGINE/GRAFX/16/CDROM2/SUPER/DUO/ARCADE/RX). One of the major goals of this project is to properly explain such a convoluted com- mercial operation. It will be argued that beyond the obvious attraction of cutting-e dge technology flaunted by every new design, the choice of expandability sought to catch up to perceptually rich media such as cinema and anime and grab hold in the sprawling economy of the Japanese media mix. More than a simple shape-shifter, the PC Engine longed to become a media snatcher. Cutting Edges Every personal computer user has been confronted by OS compatibil- ity issues, insufficient memory error messages, or stuttering framerates due to a lack of processing power. For the gaming community at large, the concept of expandability can be counterintuitive, closing the gates on smooth consumption and careless play in unexpected manners. From the point of view of creators and publishers, expandability makes it pos- sible to design game engines geared towards the most advanced specifi- cations available in the “digital park,” but many extra resources have to be allocated in order to make these engines scalable. Consequently, it becomes difficult and more expensive to create a satisfying experience for everybody. In most cases, targeting the ideal user represents an additional challenge and studios end up actively excluding people through minimum recommended specifications. From a commercial standpoint, restricting the size of the park doesn’t make much sense; publishers seek to have the most inclusive specifications on the box. From the perspective of gamers, expansion bays and expensive add- ons open the promise of better games— better in some respect, at the very least. But with scalability comes the risk of inadequacy. Meeting the minimum requirements stated on the box might not lead to a satisfying playable experience. Unless designers had the diligence to integrate an “insufficient memory” message if the game fails to boot, diagnosing a hardware problem in order to play a game properly can become a puzzle in itself. The cost of “keeping up” with the medium’s technological develop- ment plays a large part in making the video game industry so unstable. The idea of a stable platform on which both designer and player communities Introduction Is There a Platform in This Book? [3] can rest is first and foremost a solution to commercial concerns. For the studio, it ensures the most efficient development context. For producers, it delineates a digital park where the participants’ consumption habits can be mapped and predicted with more accuracy. For users, it is infinitely cheaper than buying custom cutting-e dge props for every game they want to play. The rise of these corporate platforms explains in part why game companies are investing less and less time in harnessing the power of personal computers and prefer to develop platform- agnostic engines with some scalable features. On the other end, gamers might realize that their expensive/expansive gaming platform is not being used to its full capacity and feel that a specific piece of hardware or software is not worth the full price of admission. When Hudson approached NEC to become a partner in the creation of a new console, the choice of expandability made perfect sense for both companies. Hudson had been a prime developer for the Nintendo Famicom since 1983 and felt increasingly limited with the technological affordances of this platform. Its engineers worked on a new design based on a faster version of the same processor, augmented with a dedicated graphical architecture that was meant to transpose the cutting-e dge arcade experience more easily. Hudson didn’t have enough money and industrial connections to envision the mass production of a new console on its own. NEC became the ideal partner to overview the PC Engine’s production and marketing; its expertise in telecommunications technology and recent growth as the major player on the Japanese personal computer market earned the corporation a lot of money and prestige, feeding its ambitions for even more expansion in the realm of home electronics and entertain- ment. Coincidentally, Tomio Goto¯ was trying to expand NEC’s PCs with CD technology when Hudson came into the picture. The PC Engine project emerged out of the desired union of cutting- edge graphical technology with mass storage capabilities on a scale that had been unheard of in the realm of video games. Expanding the Platform Ideally, a platform maker can also finance an extensive marketing opera- tion that benefits everyone in the ecosystem. On top of the relative techno- logical and commercial stability, it provides readymade identity bits that users can assimilate/appropriate. PC enthusiasts are also building their identity through technology. However, a console maker is likely to invest much more money than component manufacturers to define and promote its machine. It designs a context for the consumption of play. The park is [4] given a name, a logo, visual designs displayed on game boxes and ads, a mascot perhaps. Clear associations in the mind of the community emerge and are reinforced by extensive branding operations. Some exemplary rides are created to attract players and partners. This platform design is beneficial not only to the hardware maker, but to third parties who want to create rides in the park. As a user, you define yourself through the parks you visit and the types of ride you enjoy. Beyond the notion of technological standards, the concept of platform itself has been expanded to encompass commercial strategies and cul- tural forms that can arise and provide stable—i f often shaky—g round for gamemakers and players. The Platform Studies series has always had an interest in the interactions between technology and cultural expressions, and recent entries in the series have developed the notion of commercial platforms. In his contribution on the SNES, Dominic Arsenault creates a fruitful intersection with business studies. He proposes the metaphor of a tiered garden to account for video game production (2017, 18–1 9) and defines the “Nintendo Economic System” with unparalleled clarity. Much like Arsenault, I seek to integrate the study of commercial struc- tures and, more specifically, the marketing apparatus in my inspection of NEC products. Outside of the series, the concept of platform is commonly used to point towards the foundations of contemporary cultural indus- tries, from the economic infrastructures facilitating exchanges between media (Steinberg 2017) to the characters and worlds that act as versa- tile creative cores in the context of these transmedia economies (Condry 2013). This book will benefit from this expanded notion of platform in order to better understand the PC Engine, its numerous expansions, and the encompassing context of video game creation and consumption at the turn of the 1990s. Through a close inspection of the PC Engine, this book seeks to reflect on the multidirectional interactions between video game technologies, commercial structures, and cultural dynamics. It is obviously influenced by the similar approach put forth by Stephen Kline, Nick Dyer- Witheford, and Greig de Peuter in Digital Play (2003). To create a proper account of the experience of video games and its historical evolution, the authors argue, one must be able to understand it as a cultural practice struggling with the imperatives of a globalized economy and with the affordances of technology. Of course, technological platforms have a direct impact on the types of games one can create or enjoy at any given point. For instance, limited working memory can prevent game designers from keeping the player’s recent interactions up on the screen when said player backtracks, or from integrating a great variety of mechanics at the same Introduction Is There a Platform in This Book? [5] time. Technology co-d efines gameworlds, understood as “world repre- sentations designed with a particular gameplay in mind and characterized by game- system information that enables meaningful player interaction” (Jørgensen 2013, 3). Some technological platforms are able to sustain gameworlds that provide audiovisual feedback in “real time,” at 30 or 60 frames per second. At the same time, feedback solutions that prolifer- ated in a context of technological limitations (such as numeral, verbal, or audiovisual indicators) still permeate and influence game design prac- tices even though most machines could handle more realistic forms of interactivity. Marketing practices have a strong influence on the types of games we play: beyond the mindsets and specific messages found in advertisement, marketing departments monitor which types of gameworlds work well with specific audiences in order to direct further production and target audiences. Successful gameworlds crystalize into the common video game genres that often become part of a gamer’s identity. As such, these suc- cesses reflect player preferences to some extent. But as this study of the PC Engine will demonstrate, the practice of play and the larger context of media consumption can also have a major influence on the development of technological components. The creation of a CD- ROM expansion and data- intensive games can be closely related with the fascination for per- ceptually saturated media, their remediation as rewards in games, and the media mix economy. In the context of an academic book, these introductory remarks lead to several difficulties. Getting acquainted with all the technological under- pinnings of a specific video game platform is a daunting task in itself; this book has to address several expansions, each boosting additional pecu- liarities. Furthermore, expanding the platform concept is necessary to provide a deep understanding of the video game experience we associate with the PC Engine, and to properly situate this experience within the history of the medium. Opening the study to analyze multifaceted interac- tions between technology, media economies, and game forms adds com- plexity to an already formidable challenge. A Method (Hardly) Popular journalistic accounts of video game history typically don’t provide a lot of information about the PC Engine. Few words are dedicated to the platform in Steven Kent’s The Ultimate History of Video Games. Consider- ing the TurboGrafx-1 6’s lack of success in North America, this is hardly surprising. Yet the author’s focus on the system’s demise (when so many [6]