Sam C. Wilson plays Trap Jaw in the Masters of the Universe film, and from the moment he sat down with us, it was clear this role was no casual booking. The Welsh actor spent months deep in comic book research, grueling strongman training, and five-hour makeup sessions before he ever stepped on set. Watch the full conversation on YouTube.
Getting Into the Fandom First
Wilson grew up in Wales in the 1990s, and he describes the American 1980s as a kind of mythology to him, something he knew through imports like The Goonies, The Lost Boys, and Saved by the Bell. He-Man was woven into all of that. When the role was confirmed, he treated the preparation as an act of respect toward the source material and toward the fans who grew up with it firsthand.
He went back to the original lore, tracing how Trap Jaw ended up disfigured, why the character carries so much anger, and what the look needed to communicate physically. YouTube breakdowns, web research, and a close read of the comics all fed into his thinking before he ever touched a weight.
“I went into the original, where Cronis is from and how he ended up losing his jaw and that kind of thing. I kind of had the idea that he’s angry because he’s been disfigured, which was good,” Wilson said.
He also knew early on that Hafthor Bjornsson was already attached to the film, and that context shaped how he thought about Trap Jaw’s physicality. The character lugs metal around, eats food whole in Wilson’s imagination of him, and carries real pain in every movement. That picture drove the training plan.
The Strongman Build
Wilson is already a big guy, and he was upfront about the route he did not take to get bigger. He wanted farmer-strong, not chemically assisted. Growing up around Welsh rugby players gave him a frame of reference for that specific kind of mass, and he built toward it over six months of high-calorie eating and heavy compound lifts. By the end of that stretch he was pressing 60 kilograms per hand on the bench.
“The costume isn’t going to meet me. I need to meet the costume,” Wilson said.
That instinct came directly from the concept art. Once he saw the enormous robotic legs and the tied-on arm in the designs, he understood what his silhouette needed to be. He had to fill the costume from the inside out, not rely on it to do the work for him.
The makeup process ran about five hours each time, and Wilson walked through every stage of it. His head was shaved, his beard came off, and his body was completely cleared of hair. The prosthetics team, working under Barry Gower, built up two silicone facial pieces and a helmet that had been iterated from 3D scans of Wilson’s own head. A separate mandible piece attached to his chin so that Trap Jaw’s mechanical jaw moved with his real mouth.
The blue skin was the part that surprised me most hearing him describe it. They could not simply spray him down. Instead, the team dabbed on layer after layer of color, building up tones the way a tattoo cover-up works, cycling through different hues to simulate the vascular system and the texture of actual moving skin. In HD, it had to read as flesh, not paint.
“By the time you’ve been looking in the mirror and seeing all of this, I would start to listen to a lot of Korn. So like people would see that on my post, I’ve been putting Korn songs and ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls,’” by Metallica Wilson said.
Removing everything at the end of the day was its own ordeal. The paint was not water soluble because it had to survive sweat. Only alcohol-based solvents would break it down, and the process was uncomfortable enough that the team could only realistically do it a couple of days a week.
Moving in 20 Kilograms of Robotic Legs
On top of the makeup, the costume introduced a separate set of physical challenges. The trousers alone weighed over 20 kilograms, worn with a weight belt. Wilson’s hearing was blocked by the helmet, and scleral contact lenses covered the full white of his eyes in green and yellow, which meant his vision was severely limited during fight scenes. He was candid about pulling the lenses for certain sequences because full-contact choreography with Idris Elba in the dark was not a situation he wanted to navigate half-blind.
The weight in the legs became something he folded into the performance. That heavy, deliberate sway turned into a kind of mechanical gait, a stillness in the head and a lumbering quality in the body that read as genuinely threatening on screen.
“I couldn’t see much and I was fighting like full on,” Wilson said.
Working with Liang Yang
The fight choreography was handled by Liang Yang, the stunt coordinator behind the white bathroom sequence in Mission: Impossible that pretty much anyone who has seen it can picture instantly. Wilson described him as someone who commands a room effortlessly, the kind of figure who can be eating a microwave meal between takes while every physical performer in the building watches for his next note.
“He’s hilarious as well because sometimes he’d say, ‘Brother, brother, brother, just do it like this,’ proceeds to do like, you know, Bruce Lee level shit, and you’re like, ‘Yeah, I am trying,’” Wilson said.
Wilson and Yang stayed in touch after filming wrapped, which Wilson treated as something genuinely uncommon. The encouragement ran both ways on set, with Yang texting him after takes to tell him the work was landing.
Production overlapped with his partner Kayle’s due date, and Wilson kept his phone close on set during that stretch. His partner is a midwife, and their daughter Juno was born at home. The timing worked out in the most cinematic way possible: Wilson had come home for a long weekend, Kayle mentioned feeling crampy that morning, he went for a run, and came back to 13 missed calls.
“I was back in painted blue 48 hours after,” Wilson said.
He credited his prosthetics team, Pat, Emma, and Mike, working under Barry Gower, as his real support system through that stretch. They would come over between takes under the pretense of checking his glue, quietly telling him the last take looked great. Small gestures, but he made a point of naming every one of them.
The Cast, the Chemistry, and the Premiere
Wilson talked at length about what the cast group chat looks like in practice. When someone catches a negative comment online, they message the others and the responses come flooding in. He described a functioning support system that formed organically over the shoot and has held together since. By the time of the Hollywood premiere, many of them had not seen each other for over a year, and the green room turned into a genuine reunion.
“It’s a proper friendship group in the ways that are supportive as well. It’s been really good,” Wilson said.
The premiere itself was new territory for Wilson in terms of scale. He has done BAFTA screenings for TV projects, but a full Hollywood red carpet was a different thing entirely. What grounded it, he said, was the franchise fans in attendance, the Club Grayskull crowd who showed up knowing every character and cheering for each of them. He called them a lightning rod for all the intensity of the night.
The Bolo Tie, Metallica, and What Comes Next
The Trap Jaw bolo tie Wilson wore to the premiere is a one-of-one piece commissioned from Barry Gower’s team. They took a bolo tie base and 3D printed and painted their way to a fully realized Trap Jaw medallion. Wilson said he does not feel entirely worthy of it given the collectibles he has seen other fans carry, but he wears it with obvious pride.
The first album he ever owned turns out to be directly connected to the role. His dad picked him up from school after exams, handed him a copy of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning from Virgin Megastore, because a young Wilson had fallen for “For Whom the Bell Tolls” on a compilation. That track became the song he played to get into character for Trap Jaw, a connection he had never consciously made until the question came up in the interview.
“That is the song that I listen to to get ready to play Trap Jaw. And I didn’t know that they were connected,” Wilson said.
As for what is next: Wilson is in Blade Runner 2099 alongside Michelle Yeoh, Hunter Schafer, Tom Burke, and a substantial ensemble, appearing as himself rather than under prosthetics. He also has a BBC series called California Avenue with Helena Bonham Carter and Bill Nighy in the pipeline. A couple of other projects are in final conversations, under NDA, and he refused to say a word about them on the grounds of not wanting to jinx anything.
Bruce Lee has been gone for more than fifty years and yet somehow he still moves through modern cinema.
Not as nostalgia. Not as a shadow frozen in time. But through movement itself.
In the split-second rhythm of a fight scene. In the emotional realism behind physical performance. In the controlled chaos unfolding behind blockbuster action films audiences never realize are carrying his DNA forward.
His real legacy lives inside the mindset of the performers, coordinators, and filmmakers still shaping modern cinema today.
When we sat down with Australian stunt performer and fight choreographer Chan Griffin, it became apparent that Bruce Lee’s teachings are not abstract ideas from another era. They are principles still actively guiding the way modern action films are made.
Griffin has worked on major productions including The Wolverine, Aquaman, Mortal Kombat, Thor: Love and Thunder, Shazam!, and the recent action thriller The Bluff. Yet when speaking about his career, he rarely focuses on spectacle. Instead, he returns repeatedly to philosophy championed decades ago: humility, presence, discipline, adaptability, and learning how to let go and “focus on the right thing.”
Bruce Lee Changed More Than Martial Arts
Before Bruce Lee, Hollywood fight scenes often felt staged and disconnected from reality. Combat in films was theatrical, rigid, and exaggerated, more performative than emotionally expressive.
Bruce Lee changed that forever.
His movement carried intensity. His speed felt dangerous. His fights revealed psychology, identity, frustration, and self-expression as much as physical combat.
But perhaps his greatest contribution was philosophical.
Bruce Lee believed martial arts should never be dictated by ego or tradition. He encouraged constant growth, adaptability, and self-discovery. His famous phrase, “Be water, my friend,” was never simply about fighting. It was about learning how to move through life without becoming frozen by fear or resistance.
That philosophy still echoes and lives on through modern stunt culture today.
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Jackie Chan Expanded the Blueprint
Decades earlier, Bruce Lee shattered Hollywood’s understanding of martial arts cinema.
Then Jackie Chan rebuilt the blueprint entirely.
The falls became harder. The fights became messier. The action became human.
Jackie Chan’s films blended danger, humor, improvisation, and practical stunt work into something entirely new. His action scenes became less about invincibility and more about survival, creativity, rhythm, and pain, and the strange beauty of getting back up again.
That evolution directly shaped modern stunt teams around the world.
For Chan Griffin, that lineage became personal early in his career.
When we sat down with Griffin, he recalled participating in a Jackie Chan-backed competition searching for the next martial arts film star, an experience that unexpectedly altered the direction of his life.
Later, one of the most pivotal moments of Griffin’s career came through legendary stunt performer Brad Allan, the first non-Asian member of Jackie Chan’s stunt team.
Allan would go on to help shape some of modern cinema’s most celebrated action films including Avatar, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, Pacific Rim, Kingsman, and Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings.
Somewhere inside that lineage, Bruce Lee’s philosophies continued evolving across generations.
From Bruce Lee to Jackie Chan to Brad Allan to the stunt performers and coordinators building today’s biggest films.
For Griffin, working around figures connected to that legacy became transformational.
“He really shaped my career because of his work ethic and creativity,” Griffin said of Allan.
That connection matters because modern blockbuster action did not emerge in isolation. There is a direct creative thread running from Bruce Lee’s philosophy to Jackie Chan’s stunt innovation to the performers and coordinators still carrying those ideas onto film sets today.
Bruce Lee’s Philosophy Is Still Alive on Modern Film Sets
Many of the lessons Bruce Lee taught decades ago remain deeply relevant inside today’s film industry, especially adaptability.
Griffin described working on The Bluff as organized chaos.
Fight choreography and scripts changes, moments before cameras rolled. Entire sequences had to be rebuilt in real time while performers rehearsed combinations in corners of the set waiting for answers.
Sometimes there were only minutes to teach choreography before shooting again.
For many performers, that kind of pressure would become paralyzing.
But Griffin learned to adapt instead of panic.
“Sometimes beautiful things happen out of chaos,” he explained.
That mindset mirrors Bruce Lee’s philosophy almost perfectly.
Rather than resisting unpredictability, Griffin learned how to move with it.
That same adaptability can be seen throughout the films he helped create.
In The Wolverine, action sequences feel grounded and emotionally physical rather than overly polished. In Mortal Kombat, martial arts choreography carries the unmistakable DNA of Bruce Lee’s influence on fighting-game culture itself, especially through characters like Liu Kang, who was directly inspired by Lee’s image and fighting style.
Even films like Thor: Love and Thunder and Aquaman reflect the evolution of modern stunt work pioneered by Jackie Chan’s generation: blending action, rhythm, humor, environmental movement, and practical performance into massive cinematic storytelling.
Most audiences may never consciously recognize those influences while watching these films.
But the lineage is there.
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Humility, Discipline, and the Human Side of Action Cinema
One of the most overlooked aspects of Bruce Lee’s philosophy was humility.
Despite becoming a global icon, Lee consistently emphasized self-improvement over ego. That same mentality appears repeatedly throughout Griffin’s stories about the stunt industry.
Griffin never forgot what happened after training one night in Japan.
The restaurant was nearly empty by then. Staff members already moving quietly through the room cleaning tables.
Griffin watched as one of the most respected stunt coordinators in the industry stayed behind and helped clean the table, after everyone else stood to leave.
No cameras. No audience.
“No one was watching,” Griffin remembered. “But he still took the time to leave the table how he found it.”
Years later, that moment stayed with him more than many explosions or fight scenes ever did.
Because it reflected something larger than professionalism. It reflected character.
That idea, of doing the right thing even when nobody is watching, has long been central to martial arts philosophy.
And in many ways, the stunt world quietly operates on those same values: discipline, trust, preparation, resilience, and humility under pressure.
The Legacy Lives Through People
Bruce Lee’s greatest legacy may not be a specific kick, fight scene, or philosophical quote.
It may be the generations of performers and artists still carrying those ideas forward in ways audiences never fully see.
Years after studying Bruce Lee’s philosophy, Griffin would find himself living it.
Just days after losing his father, he received a call inviting him to audition for a stunt opportunity in Melbourne.
Grief nearly kept him home.
Instead, he climbed into a beat-up thousand-dollar car and drove across Australia carrying little more than exhaustion, uncertainty, and the belief his father had always placed in him.
He got the job.
That opportunity helped launch the career that eventually led him onto productions like Aquaman, The Wolverine, and Mortal Kombat.
“My father believed in me before I’d achieved anything,” Griffin said quietly.
Late in our conversation, Griffin described night diving underwater in complete darkness.
“When you’re underwater at night, it’s complete darkness in every direction,” he said. “Anything could be around you.”
But fear fades, he explained, when you focus completely on the present moment directly in front of you.
Maybe that is Bruce Lee’s real legacy after all.
The lesser known, invisible real-life moments that quietly unfold. Messy and uncertain steps taken fueled by his philosophy long before they call “Action” and cameras roll.
The adaptability. The humility. The discipline to keep moving forward through uncertainty. The understanding that strength is not toughness. It is flow.
Today, those lessons still move quietly through modern cinema.
Through exhausted stunt performers rehearsing choreography beneath fluorescent lights. Through artists trying to stay present while chaos unfolds around them.
Bruce Lee may be gone. But his philosophy lives on in the people still learning how to move through chaos.
In modern games, soundtracks by design function in a way that subtly guides emotion and storytelling. Deepening our immersion without ever pulling focus from the visual experience.
Chase Bethea doesn’t compose this way.
His soundtracks do not quietly fade away into the edges of a game. They are designed to be heard, they heighten the experience and call for replay on repeat long after you’ve beat the level and the game. They linger long after the screen goes dark.
For many players, that lingering feeling is the point. Games aren’t just entertainment, they are an escape, a place to step away from the weight of the world. And the music is the bridge that takes the player to their own flow-state interlude.
This approach is at the heart of Aground, a game whose evolving world demanded a score just as fluid and groundbreaking.
Building a Sound Without a Blueprint
When Bethea first encountered Aground during its early prototype, there was no clear path for the soundscape and game backdrops to come together. Rather than forcing the process, he let the ideas surface gradually.
“I couldn’t come up with anything at first,” he says. “Then certain things started to come to me in pieces.”
Patience became a key part of the process. The game’s hand-crafted art, built entirely from scratch, pushed Bethea to create something equally uncharted and distinctive. The result however was not immediately understood.
After finishing the main theme, the initial reaction from the developer was one of uncertainty. But after spending more time with it, the response changed and it was fully embraced.
For Bethea, that delayed connection isn’t a flaw, it’s the point.
“Sometimes my music has to sit with you,” he explains.
Many of the best albums of all time often follow-ups to an artist’s breakout release, need time to marinate. Over time, they become your favorites, while the original, more typecast sound, though still appreciated, begins to feel distinct from a broader, more open-minded evolution.
Music Shaped by Life as Much as Design
The development of Aground stretched across several years, and Bethea’s personal life unfolded alongside it. Moves, setbacks, the California wildfires and loss all left their mark on the soundtrack.
“I lost my great-grandmother; there’s a song attributed to her,” he shares.
That emotional layering gives the score a depth that goes beyond gameplay. It’s not just reactive, it’s reflective. The music carries both the evolution of the game and the evolution of the person creating it.
In many ways, that story reaches further back.
Bethea’s first experience with gaming began with an Intellivision console he found tucked under a bed in his grandmother’s spare room. At the time, she told him it was a fax machine. But when he hooked it up and played Dragonfire, something clicked.
That small, accidental moment set everything in motion.
The legacy of Bethea’s ancestry remains embedded in his work, as he forges his own.
During the creation of Aground, he experienced that loss in real time. The grief didn’t stay separate from the music, it became part of it. A profound expression of the soul, where grief arrives in restless tides, carried through the very frequencies of the soundtrack waves.
Breaking Rhythm to Refresh the Player
One of Bethea’s defining traits is his willingness to push boundaries beyond conventional structure. While many game soundtracks rely on familiar time signatures, he actively experiments with rhythm, especially in moments like boss battles.
“I got bored with what I was hearing,” he says. “So I wanted to push it further.”
Drawing from his deep music theory studies and influences outside traditional game composition, Bethea uses shifting meters and unexpected timing to disrupt player expectations. The goal isn’t complexity for its own sake, it’s engagement on an entirely new level.
“It refreshes the ear,” he explains.
Even players who don’t understand the theory can feel the difference.
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A Composer Between Eras
Bethea’s technical approach mirrors his creative one: flexible and wide-ranging. Starting with early tools like Fruity Loops 3, he now works primarily in professional environments like Nuendo, while still using retro trackers and handheld systems when a project calls for it.
“It depends on what the project needs,” he says.
This adaptability allows him to move seamlessly between modern orchestration scoring and retro-inspired sound design. He has forged a path that bridges generations of game audio without losing authenticity.
Preserving More Than Just Games
Outside of composing, Bethea is deeply invested in game preservation. With a personal collection of hundreds of titles and years spent cleaning and restoring consoles, he sees gaming history as something worth maintaining, not just consuming.
“These are multiple forms of art,” he says.
That mindset carries into his own work. His push to release Aground on vinyl isn’t just about format, it’s about access, the artistry of physical media, and a sense of permanence in an increasingly digital industry.
“A server shutting down isn’t going to stop a record from playing,” he notes.
Taking the stage with live performance and with a vinyl release on the horizon, his music is stepping out of the headphones and into the room. He’s transforming what was once a solitary, digital experience into a raw, shared heartbeat, one that only a live crowd can create. He’s bringing a community together.
Influence Without Imitation
While rooted in game culture, Bethea’s influence extends far beyond it. Growing up on hip-hop and R&B, he draws inspiration from producers like Timbaland and The Neptunes, artists known for rhythm-driven innovation.
That influence is especially clear on an album like “Sunken Stones,” where layered percussion and Caribbean-inspired elements create something grounded, magical, and unexpected. The result feels transportive, like stepping into another room, where music bends time through memory and storytelling.
“I wanted to write pirates from the Caribbean, not Pirates of the Caribbean,” he says.
It’s a subtle distinction, but it reflects a larger philosophy: authenticity over imitation.
From Composer to Performer
For Bethea, the work doesn’t end when the soundtrack is finished. Increasingly, he’s bringing his music to live audiences, treating game scores as performance pieces rather than static recordings.
“As a musician, you make the album and then you perform it,” he says.
His shows blend improvisation with gameplay visuals, turning familiar tracks into something new each time. It’s part of a growing movement pushing video game music into broader cultural recognition.
A Lasting Presence in a Temporary Medium
In an industry where games can disappear as quickly as they launch, Bethea is thinking about longevity. Whether through physical releases, live performances, or his upcoming book, his focus is on creating work that endures.
“I want my music to exist in something people can hold,” he says.
It’s a simple idea, but it carries weight.
Because in the end, his work isn’t just about scoring a soundtrack for a game. It’s about capturing something lasting. Giving everyone space for incubation. Memories and emotions; the gift of quiet, reflective moments that shape us.
And in that space between the fleeting and the permanent, Chase Bethea is composing something that stays with us.
Some shows don’t just entertain you, they become part of your own story. Stargate SG-1 is firmly in that category. We’ve lost count of how many times we’ve rewatched the series. First during its original run, then on DVD, and now a nightly episode or an endless marathon. It’s a series that never fades away, always waiting for another return trip through the gate. And for many fans, Dr. Janet Fraiser is a vital part of the experience. So sitting down with Teryl Rothery doesn’t feel like just another interview, it feels like reconnecting with a familiar voice from a world we keep coming back to.
Life Beyond the Gate
These days, Rothery’s world is anything but quiet. Between her work on Virgin River, Murder in a Small Town, and other ongoing projects, her schedule is packed. Notably, she’s now been part of two major long-running series: Stargate SG-1, which ran for 10 seasons, and Virgin River, currently filming its eighth season on Netflix.
“It’s definitely busy,” she says. “But it’s a good kind of busy. Family, work, my daughter graduating, her hockey. It’s full, even if it gets hectic sometimes.”
It’s a different kind of adventure than off-world missions, but no less demanding.
Enter Virgin River
For viewers just discovering Rothery through Virgin River, her character Muriel brings a layered presence to the small-town drama.
“I think you just have to be surprised when you meet her,” Rothery says, careful not to spoil too much.
Muriel’s journey has stretched across multiple seasons, evolving in ways that rewards long-time viewers. And with production now deep into Season 8, there’s still more to come.
“There’s been some really nice developments with this character.”
A Calling Beyond Acting
Acting has always been Rothery’s foundation, something she’s pursued since she was four years old. But over time, another path began to emerge.
“I always had this sense of wanting to help, to be of service,” she explains.
What started as an instinct gradually became something more defined. After years of what she describes as “little taps on the door,” Rothery pursued training as an intuitive coach, eventually expanding into hypnotherapy.
And despite pop culture’s portrayal, the reality is far more grounded.
“It’s not about clucking like a chicken,” she says with a laugh. “The individual is completely in control. It’s about accessing what’s already in the subconscious.”
Through The Honest Pause podcast, co-hosted with Miriam Taheriy, Rothery explores personal growth, mindfulness, and healing, often speaking with authors and experts in the field.
“It’s about connection, and being of service in whatever way I can.”
Revisiting Stargate SG-1
Even now, Stargate SG-1 remains a defining part of Rothery’s legacy, and a cornerstone for fans.
One lesser-known detail: Rothery didn’t just play Dr. Fraiser. She also stepped into the role of the Asgard Heimdall, performing the character on set in full motion capture.
“That was actually me,” she confirms. “Motion capture suit and all.”
It’s one of those behind-the-scenes moments that even longtime fans might miss, a reminder of how much of Stargate’s world was built through performance as much as effects.
Moments like her return in the episode “Ripple Effect” still resonate deeply.
“It was extremely emotional,” Rothery recalls. “To be back with all of my peers and the crew, it was overwhelming. It was lovely.”
She notes that returning wasn’t just about stepping back into the role. It was about revisiting a world that had changed.
“It was great to be back, but it was also different,” she reflects.
For fans, it was one of those unforgettable scenes. For Rothery, it was just as meaningful, if not more.
Could Dr. Fraiser Return?
With talk of an Amazon MGM Stargate SG-1 continuation circulating, the question isn’t whether Dr. Fraiser will return, but whether Rothery would be open to it if asked.
She doesn’t hesitate.
“Hell yeah. Of course.”
She adds that she hasn’t been approached, yet. And in a universe built on alternate realities and time travel, anything still feels possible.
Giving Back
Beyond the screen, 2026 marks the 25th Anniversary of when Rothery took part in a USO tour alongside fellow cast members, visiting troops overseas.
“It was an honor,” she says. “A way of giving back.”
The experience left a lasting impression, not just professionally, but personally. Even today, she maintains friendships with a retired member of the Air Force, connected to the show.
The Journey Continues
Today, Rothery’s career blends performance with purpose. Whether she’s acting, podcasting, or working directly with people through coaching and hypnotherapy, the throughline remains the same: connection.
For many fans, she’ll always be Dr. Janet Fraiser. But as this conversation makes clear, that’s only one chapter in a much larger story. One that continues to evolve in meaningful and unexpected ways.
Retro-Bit Publishing is bringing two Telenet Japan classics back to cartridge, and both of them have stories worth knowing. Arcus Odyssey arrives on Genesis and Mega Drive, and Psycho Dream gets its first-ever official English physical release on SNES. Pre-orders open today, April 21, and run through May 24, 2026. If you care about retro game preservation and physical media, these are exactly the kind of releases that make this hobby exciting.
Both games trace back to Telenet Japan and its network of talented development studios, and both had Western releases planned in the early 90s that were cancelled before they could ship. Over thirty years later, Retro-Bit is finishing what was started. Here’s the full picture on both titles.
Arcus Odyssey (Genesis / Mega Drive)
The Game
Arcus Odyssey is an isometric action RPG that originally released in June 1991 for the Mega Drive in Japan and October 1991 for the Genesis in North America. Think Gauntlet, but tighter and with real character differentiation. You pick one of four heroes: Jeddah the swordsman, Erin the warrior maiden, Diana the elven archer, or Bead the dark mage. The evil sorceress Castomira has returned after a thousand-year absence to threaten the kingdom of Arcus, and eight stages of co-op action stand between her and total ruin. Two players can tackle them simultaneously, which was a big deal for this genre at the time and still makes it a fantastic couch co-op pick today.
Arcus Odyssey is part of a six-title Arcus RPG series, and it’s the only entry that ever made it to Western shelves. That limited availability shaped its reputation: people who found it loved it, and a lot of people simply never had the chance.
The Legacy of Wolf Team
Arcus Odyssey was developed by Wolf Team, a studio under Telenet Japan. If that name doesn’t ring a bell immediately, the downstream history will. Wolf Team eventually became Tales Studio under Namco and went on to develop Tales of Phantasia, launching one of the most beloved JRPG franchises of all time. Before that happened, several key Wolf Team members left to co-found tri-Ace, the studio behind Star Ocean and Valkyrie Profile.
When you’re playing Arcus Odyssey, you’re playing early work from a team that would go on to define two major RPG lineages. That’s the kind of context that makes a game worth experiencing.
Retro-Bit has worked with Wolf Team’s catalog before. El Viento, Sol-Deace, and Valis: The Fantasm Soldier have all received the collector’s cartridge treatment, so Arcus Odyssey is the next chapter in an ongoing effort to bring this body of work back to physical media.
What’s in the Box
The re-release comes on a Luminous Amber cartridge, a warm amber-toned shell that looks fantastic on a shelf. The packaging includes a reversible inlay sleeve, a full-color instruction manual, and an individually numbered embossed slipcover. Every unit has its own number, and quantities are determined entirely by pre-orders. This is a one-time production run.
The cartridge works on North American Genesis consoles, PAL Mega Drive consoles, and most compatible third-party hardware. It runs on a 5-volt chip with beveled insert points, and it’s region-free. If you own both a Genesis and a Mega Drive, one copy covers you.
MSRP is $59.99 USD / $84.99 CAD. For context, a loose original Genesis cart currently sells for roughly $75 to $125, and complete-in-box copies run $100 to $200. Factory sealed originals can push well past $200. At $59.99 for a brand-new physical copy with full packaging, this is a great opportunity to add a piece of gaming history to your collection.
Psycho Dream is the wilder of the two announcements, and I mean that as a compliment. It’s a side-scrolling action platformer originally released in December 1992 for the Super Famicom in Japan, and it has one of the most ambitious premises of any early 90s action game.
The story takes place in a cyberpunk version of 1992 Japan where “D Movies” are a form of virtual reality entertainment. The problem: some users get trapped inside them, their minds stuck in the virtual world while their bodies deteriorate in the real world. These trapped users are called “sinkers.” You play as two Diamond Dogs agents, Ryo Shijima and Maria Tobari, sent into a teenager’s D Movie to pull her out before her body gives out. The game runs six tracks and features artwork by the talented Nishizaki Marino that holds up remarkably well.
A note on content: Psycho Dream’s story touches on themes including depression, drugs, and suicide. The subject matter is handled through the lens of early 90s action gaming, but it’s worth being aware of going in.
The Team Behind It
Psycho Dream was developed by Riot, a successor studio to the Reno team at Telenet Japan. The team members who worked on this game went on to some remarkable projects. Credits from this group include Chrono Trigger, Super Mario RPG, the Super Smash Bros. series, and Wild ARMs. Psycho Dream is an early snapshot of talent that hadn’t yet peaked, and that makes it a fascinating piece of gaming history to play through.
A Brand New English Localization
Psycho Dream did get a Nintendo Switch Online release in February 2021 as part of the Super Famicom library, and Ratalaika Games released a digital version in September 2025 with an English translation. So the game isn’t completely inaccessible at this point.
What makes the Retro-Bit cartridge special is that it features a completely new English localization by Nathan Deren, commissioned specifically for this release. This is a fresh translation, not a repackaging of existing work, paired with a fully translated instruction manual. For a game that spent over thirty years without any official English text, having a dedicated physical localization like this is something worth celebrating.
What’s in the Box
The cartridge is called Azure Visions and comes in a beautiful blue shell. The packaging is a numbered deluxe hardcover with a magnetic closure, topped with an embossed slipcover. The full-color translated manual is included. Each unit is individually numbered.
The cartridge works on NTSC-U and PAL SNES consoles and is region switchable by pressing Reset twice. MSRP is $59.99 USD / $84.99 CAD, matching Arcus Odyssey. The original Super Famicom cart runs roughly $40 to $70 loose and $100 to $150 complete, so this is a great value for what you’re getting, especially considering the new localization and collector packaging.
Both games trace back to Telenet Japan and its network of studios. Renovation Products was the North American publishing arm that handled Western releases, and they were doing great work bringing these titles to Genesis owners in the US throughout the early 90s.
When SEGA acquired Renovation, the pipeline for several in-progress projects was shut down. Arcus Odyssey had a Super Famicom version called Arcus Spirits that was actively being localized for SNES. Cancelled. Psycho Dream was planned for Western release under the title Dream Probe. Also cancelled. Two games, two different studios, both stopped by the same corporate event.
That’s the through line connecting these releases. Retro-Bit is, in a very real sense, completing work that was left unfinished over thirty years ago. Thanks to their continued partnership with Edia (the current rights holder), these games are finally getting the physical releases they were always meant to have.
Pre-Order Details
Pre-orders are open now through May 24, 2026. Expected delivery is August or September 2026. These are limited, one-time production runs. The final quantity produced depends on pre-order numbers, and once the window closes, that’s it.
Physical preservation releases like these have a window. If either of these games sounds interesting to you, the pre-order period is the time to act. Once the window closes, the only option is the secondary market, and if previous Retro-Bit runs are any indication, these won’t stay at MSRP for long. At $59.99 for a numbered first-run copy with full packaging and a proper manual, this is exactly the kind of release worth supporting.
Frequently Asked Questions
When can I pre-order Arcus Odyssey and Psycho Dream?
Pre-orders are open now through May 24, 2026. CastleMania Games carries both titles individually and as a bundle. Additional participating retailers are listed on Retro-Bit’s official product pages.
Will Retro-Bit make more copies after the pre-order window closes?
No. These are one-time production runs, and the final quantity is determined by how many units are pre-ordered before May 24, 2026. Once the window closes, production is locked and there are no plans for additional runs.
What consoles are compatible with these cartridges?
The Arcus Odyssey cartridge works on North American Genesis consoles, PAL Mega Drive consoles, and most compatible third-party hardware. It’s region-free. The Psycho Dream cartridge works on NTSC-U and PAL SNES consoles and is region switchable by pressing Reset twice on the console. Both cartridges use 5-volt chips with beveled insert points.
What’s the difference between the Retro-Bit Psycho Dream and the Ratalaika digital version?
The Retro-Bit cartridge features a completely new English localization by Nathan Deren, commissioned specifically for this release. It’s a separate translation from the one Ratalaika Games used for their September 2025 digital version. The Retro-Bit edition also includes a fully translated printed instruction manual, collector packaging with a numbered deluxe hardcover case, and of course the physical Azure Visions SNES cartridge itself.
SNES RPGs command some of the highest prices in the retro gaming market, and for good reason. The Super Nintendo was home to some of the greatest role-playing games ever made, and collectors have figured that out. A loose copy of Chrono Trigger can run you $250. Final Fantasy III (VI) hovers around $80 to $120. EarthBound? Don’t ask. These games represent the pinnacle of 16-bit storytelling, beautiful music and game design that still holds up today. But not every SNES RPG that commands a premium price is worth what sellers are asking. I’ve ranked the best SNES RPGs by a mix of gameplay quality, collector appeal, and actual current market value. I haven’t played all of these games, I’ll note that as we go, but I am familiar with them and have fond memories of several. I got to thinking about RPGs on this system as I just started Chrono Trigger for the first time. These are games you’ll want to own and replay, not just stash in a box.
Why SNES RPGs Cost So Much
SNES RPGs occupy a weird middle ground in our hobby. In 1994 RPGs were still getting their footing in the North American market. As the 16-bit generation was kicking off, most of us were playing fighters and action platformers. Production numbers for RPGs were lower because of this and they didn’t show up as often for trade since people actually kept these games. You might swap out a copy of Donkey Kong Country, but you’re not parting with something like Secret of Mana. Combine that with the genre’s cultural staying power, and you get a market where even average RPGs from the era fetch decent money.
Prices also reflect genuine collector demand. RPGs feel different when we think back on them. I have fond memories of games like the Death of Superman, but memories of playing through Final Fantasy 2 feel more personal to me than most any action game could. I say most because, I mean, Super Metroid exists. People, like me, who might have missed out on stories like Chrono Trigger and hear about them later are going back for them hard. The result is a category where you need to be strategic. Buy games you actually want to play. Prices fluctuate, but they don’t drop much. If you’re buying, you’re holding it or playing it, not flipping it.
1. Chrono Trigger
Chrono Trigger is considered a must play from the SNES library. As I write this, I’m getting ready to play through this for the first time. Loose cartridges run $150 to $200 currently, with complete in-box copies pushing $400 and higher. It’s earned that price tag. The game is perfect. Time travel, multiple endings, real-time combat without random encounters, a soundtrack that defines the console. Everything about Chrono Trigger was designed to respect your time while delivering a story that mattered. Thirty-one years later, it still plays better than most modern RPGs.
As a collectible, Chrono Trigger has two major pressures on its price. First, it was the last game many people sold when they cleared their SNES collections. Loose copies exist, but not in huge volume. Second, the cartridge label art is iconic enough that even beat-up copies get respect. If you’re buying, look for clean labels and working contacts. Reproductions are common. Real copies have a distinctive cartridge shell with tight tolerances and a particular weight. Another option is grabbing a Super Famicom copy and using the Retron5 for translations; this is what I’m doing.
[product slug=”chrono-trigger-snes”]
2. Final Fantasy III (VI)
Final Fantasy III, known as Final Fantasy VI in Japan, is the other cornerstone of any SNES RPG collection; although IV is my personal favorite. Loose carts run $80 to $120 depending on condition and label quality. It’s a sprawling adventure with one of the best villains in gaming, a massive ensemble cast, and a world that literally ends halfway through the game. The opera scene remains untouched as an example of what video game storytelling could accomplish on 16-bit hardware. Musically, Nobuo Uematsu’s score is his masterpiece.
The game is also one of the longest SNES RPGs, which means loose copies got played to death. You’ll see a lot of carts with label wear and faded shells. Prices reflect condition heavily here. A crisp, mint copy can push $150. A played copy with label creasing might sit at $60. Hunt for cartridge condition over label perfection. The game is engaging enough that a little wear tells a story of actually being enjoyed. Reproductions exist but are slightly easier to spot than Chrono Trigger fakes. Real cartridges have a specific shell color and weight.
[product slug=”final-fantasy-iii-snes”]
3. EarthBound
EarthBound is the hardest hit game on this list by the collector’s fever dream. Loose cartridges range from $200 to $400. Complete in box can hit $800 to $1,200. For a game that was bundled with other cartridges when it released and discounted heavily in stores, these prices are disconnected from reality. EarthBound is exceptional as a game. It’s funny, weird, touching, and genuinely unlike anything else on the SNES. Mechanically, it hasn’t aged as well as Chrono Trigger, and the experience includes some real grinding. But the soul of the game is unmistakable.
EarthBound is worth owning, but probably not at current asking prices unless you have the budget and patience. Prices have been climbing for three years straight as Nintendo nostalgia hit a new peak. If you’re buying loose, you’re paying top dollar for a cartridge that is genuinely fragile. The label wears easily. Cartridge shells are prone to cracking near the label cutout. Complete copies justify their price more because the box and manual add real value. If you want to play EarthBound, consider the Switch port at $15 and buy a loose cart when you find it under $200. You’ll enjoy the game just as much.
[product slug=”earthbound-snes”]
4. Final Fantasy II (IV)
Final Fantasy IV, called Final Fantasy II on the SNES, sits at $60 to $100 loose depending on condition. This is a bargain and you shouldn’t sit on this one. It’s the gateway to the “big three” and honestly underrated as a collecting target. The game has a tight narrative, better pacing than FF III, and some of the best boss fights on the console. The active-time combat is snappier. If you’re new to SNES RPG collecting and want something that won’t cost $150, this is the move. It’s excellent, prices are reasonable, and loose copies are findable.
Condition tends to be better on Final Fantasy II carts than on later FF games, probably because it was re-released in bundles and people grabbed it later when they already had other RPGs. Look for clean labels and working contacts. Reproductions are less common here than with the pricier titles, which makes it a safer buy for beginners. The game hasn’t appreciated much in five years, which means prices are stable. You’re not racing against the clock to buy it.
[product slug=”final-fantasy-ii-snes”]
5. Secret of Mana
Secret of Mana runs $60 to $90 loose. It’s a real-time action RPG with co-op, which made it special in 1994 when most RPGs were turn-based. The game looks incredible. The soundtrack is unforgettable. Play it today and you’ll have fun, but the experience is dated. Collision detection is sloppy. Boss patterns are patterns. The magic system is clunky. Despite all that, Secret of Mana is absolutely worth owning because the core experience is sound, and it represents a bold take on what an RPG could be on console hardware.
This is a game that shows wear. Most loose copies have label damage or fade. Prices reflect that. You can find copies in played condition for $50 to $70 pretty regularly. Cartridge durability is good. The shells are solid. Reproductions are less common than with the “big three,” but they exist. Verify the cartridge weight and shell color before buying a premium copy. Secret of Mana hasn’t appreciated much over five years, which means you’re not buying it as an investment.
[product slug=”secret-of-mana-snes”]
6. Lufia II: Rise of the Sinistrals
Lufia II is the game that people who’ve played it won’t stop talking about. Released in 1995, it flew under the radar compared to the Final Fantasy and Chrono Trigger juggernauts, but the community consensus is that this is one of the best RPGs on the SNES. Loose carts run $80 to $150, and prices have climbed steadily as more collectors discover it through recommendation threads and best-of lists. The game combines traditional turn-based combat with Zelda-style puzzle dungeons, which gives it a feel that nothing else on the console replicates. This one is in my backlog as I haven’t yet had a chance with it.
The Ancient Cave, a 99-floor randomly generated dungeon, is considered one of the best bonus challenges in any 16-bit RPG. The story is a prequel to the original Lufia, and fans generally agree it stands on its own without needing to play the first game. Cartridge availability is tighter than most titles on this list because the North American print run was modest. Reproductions are out there, so inspect carefully if you’re paying over $100. If you can find a clean copy under $100, that’s considered a solid deal in the current market.
[product slug=”lufia-ii-snes”]
7. Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars
Super Mario RPG is probably the most accessible game on this list. Square developed it in collaboration with Nintendo, and the result is a game that plays like a Final Fantasy title wearing a Mario costume. Loose carts run $50 to $80. The timed-hit combat system, where you press a button at the right moment to boost attacks and blocks, keeps battles engaging in a way that standard turn-based combat doesn’t always manage. I do remember this one, my friend played through it and I couldn’t take the concept seriously at the time. I understand that the writing is genuinely funny. Bowser joins your party. The whole thing has a personality that most RPGs from the era couldn’t match. This is another one I have yet to dive into and maybe the one I cross off my list after Chrono Trigger.
As a collectible, Super Mario RPG benefits from the Mario name pulling in buyers who don’t normally collect RPGs. That keeps demand steady. Carts are common enough that condition matters more than scarcity. Hold out for clean labels. The game saw a Switch remake in 2023, which introduced it to a new generation but didn’t tank the original cart price the way some remakes do. If anything, the remake reminded people the SNES version existed. Reproductions are less common here than with the “big three” because the price point doesn’t justify the effort for counterfeiters.
[product slug=”super-mario-rpg-snes”]
8. Breath of Fire
Breath of Fire is the original in the series, released in 1994 on SNES. Loose carts run $50 to $80. It’s a traditional turn-based RPG with a nature theme and decent monster designs. The story is thin. Boss fights are straightforward. I hear this one is easy by RPG standards. Breath of Fire has charm and the sprite work is nice. The world-building looks lived-in even, if the plot doesn’t go anywhere special. It’s the kind of game that rewards curiosity and exploration.
Prices are stable. Cartridges are plentiful enough that you’re not hunting rare stock. Labels wear normally. Reproductions exist but aren’t super common. You’re getting a solid, affordable SNES RPG that won’t break the bank. Breath of Fire deserves more love than it gets, probably because later entries in the series were better, which means the original stays affordable.
[product slug=”breath-of-fire-snes”]
9. Illusion of Gaia
Illusion of Gaia is an action RPG from Quintet, the same developer behind ActRaiser and Soul Blazer. Loose carts run $25 to $45, which makes this one of the most affordable quality RPGs on the platform. The game sends you through real-world historical locations like the Great Wall of China, Angkor Wat, and the Egyptian pyramids, which gives it a tone and setting that nothing else on the SNES attempts. Combat is real-time and straightforward. You’re not managing party members or inventories. You’re exploring, fighting, and following a story that gets surprisingly dark for a Nintendo-published game from 1994. This is one I hadn’t heard of until well after the generation was over and is, like many others on this list, on my backlog to experience for the first time.
Collectors tend to overlook Illusion of Gaia because it doesn’t carry the name recognition of a Final Fantasy or Chrono Trigger. That’s exactly why the price is so reasonable. Cartridges are plentiful. Condition tends to be good because the game didn’t get passed around and traded as heavily as the bigger names. Reproductions are rare at this price point. If you’re building an SNES RPG shelf and want something different from the standard medieval fantasy formula, this fills that slot for under $50.
[product slug=”illusion-of-gaia-snes”]
10. Wizardry V: Heart of the Maelstrom
Wizardry V is a dungeon crawler with a reputation for extreme difficulty. Loose copies run $30 to $60. The game is dense, complex, and genuinely hard. Modern players find it dated. Character creation is involved but arcane. Dungeon exploration is slow. But Wizardry V has a following, and that following respects the game’s commitment to old-school dungeon crawling sensibilities. If you like first-person dungeon crawlers and don’t mind visual simplicity, you’ll find something here. I’m told that if you’re expecting a story or character development, move on. So I did. If I’m missing out please let me know.
This is the value play on the list. You’re getting a genuine SNES RPG for under $60 that most collectors won’t own, which means it rounds out a collection with personality. Cartridges are common enough that condition is usually decent. Prices have been stable for five years. Reproductions are rare. This is a niche pick for experienced collectors, not a starter title, but it’s a smart one.
[product slug=”wizardry-v-snes”]
Where to Look and How to Verify
Finding SNES RPGs in the current market means checking multiple sources. Online marketplaces like eBay and PriceCharting are useful for price research, but they’re also where a lot of reproductions surface. Local Facebook Marketplace and Craigslist listings tend to be cheaper but require meetups. Game shops with brick-and-mortar locations offer the chance to inspect cartridges in person, which is valuable for high-ticket items.
Cartridge authenticity is critical. Real SNES cartridge shells have a cetain feel to them, PCB’s should be compared to known authentic images online, and sellers should always let you inspect them. If they don’t, walk away. Reprints and reproductions (repro’s) often use cheap feeling plastic, slightly off-color labels, and glob top PCB’s. For high-value purchases like Chrono Trigger or EarthBound, ask the seller for close-up photos of the cartridge back, the label edge where it wraps, and the PCB. Real cartridges show wear patterns consistent with genuine use. Reproductions often look too perfect or have visible glue lines where the shell halves connect.
Prices fluctuate seasonally. Summer and November tend to bring more listings and slightly lower asking prices as casual sellers liquidate. January through March see higher prices because holiday buyers are done spending and serious collectors start planning spring acquisitions. If you have patience, wait for price dips. If you find a cart you want at a fair price, buy it. Chasing hypothetical sales is how you miss out.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is the most expensive SNES RPG?
EarthBound in complete condition, with box and manual in good shape, can fetch $2,700 or more. Loose copies run $400. Chrono Trigger is second, with loose copies at around $250 and complete copies pushing $1,000 and higher. Both represent the ceiling of SNES RPG pricing. Prices fluctuate based on condition and market timing, so exact numbers shift monthly. *prices are per price charting in April 2026
Are SNES RPG reproductions worth buying?
No. Reproductions are cheap cartridges that play the game, but they don’t belong in a collection. They lack resale value, they’re not original hardware, and you’re not actually owning a piece of gaming history. If you want to play an SNES RPG and can’t afford the cartridge, use emulation or play a modern port. Don’t buy a reproduction cartridge and pretend it’s a collecting accomplishment.
Which SNES RPGs are still affordable?
Final Fantasy II, Secret of Mana, Breath of Fire, Illusion of Gaia, and Wizardry V all run under $90 loose. These are solid games that won’t drain your collecting budget. You can build a foundation of quality SNES RPGs for under $400 using these titles and one of the “big three” if you find a deal on Final Fantasy II.
How can you tell if an SNES cartridge is a reproduction?
Real SNES cartridges have a specific shell color, weight, and shell tolerance. Reproductions often use thinner plastic, slightly off colors, and noticeably lighter weight. The contact pins on real cartridges show consistent wear. Reproductions often have perfectly clean pins. Labels on real cartridges wrap around edges smoothly. Reproductions often have visible glue lines or label edges that don’t align. Ask for close-up photos before buying high-value cartridges, and weigh it in your hand if you’re buying in person.
Should I buy complete in-box copies or loose cartridges?
Buy based on your use case. If you want to play and enjoy the game, buy loose. If you’re collecting to display or preserve, buy complete. Complete copies hold value better and justify premium prices. Loose copies are cheaper and more accessible. There’s no wrong choice, but loose carts for games you’ll actually replay make more sense than complete copies you’ll never open.
The Final Word
SNES RPGs are worth collecting if you’re buying games you want to own and play. The “big three” justify their prices because they’re genuinely excellent and genuinely scarce. Mid-tier games like Final Fantasy II and Secret of Mana offer better value if you’re budget-conscious. Value plays like Illusion of Gaia and Wizardry V let you round out a collection without overspending. The key is knowing what you’re buying and why. Don’t chase hype prices. Don’t buy reproductions. Don’t assume every cartridge listed at $100 is actually worth $100. Do your homework, watch prices, and buy when you find the game you want at a fair price. Your collection will be better for it.
Every few months someone publishes a “most valuable NES games” list. Most of them include Stadium Events, Nintendo World Championships carts, and a bunch of titles that were never sold at retail. Those lists are fun to look at, but they don’t help anyone who is actually trying to build a collection.
This list is different. I filtered out Panesian carts, test cartridges, competition carts, and anything that wasn’t a standard retail release. This is the list for collectors going after a complete licensed set. The games real people are actually hunting for.
All prices below are loose cart values pulled from PriceCharting as of April 2026. These move. Check current prices before you buy.
The 10 Most Valuable Retail NES Games in 2026
1. Little Samson
Loose: ~$1,800+
The king of retail NES collecting. Little Samson was a late 1992 Taito release with a tiny print run, terrible marketing, and the worst possible timing. The SNES was already out. Nobody was buying NES games. The result is one of the rarest licensed carts in the library. It also happens to be a genuinely great platformer with tight controls and four playable characters. That combination of quality and scarcity is why it sits at the top and will probably stay there.
[product slug=”little-samson-nes”]
2. The Flintstones: The Surprise at Dinosaur Peak
Loose: ~$1,200+
This one was a Blockbuster Video rental exclusive. It was never sold at retail stores. That alone makes it one of the hardest NES games to track down. Most surviving copies still have Blockbuster stickers on the back, which is part of the charm at this point. The game itself is a solid platformer where you play as Fred and Barney. Nothing groundbreaking, but the scarcity makes it a trophy piece for set collectors.
3. Power Blade 2
Loose: ~$800+
Another late Taito release that barely made it onto shelves. Power Blade 2 is essentially a Mega Man clone, and a good one. It has solid level design and surprisingly polished graphics for a game nobody bought in 1992. The original Power Blade was already a tough sell. Making a sequel to an underperforming game on a dying platform is how you end up on a most valuable list three decades later.
4. Panic Restaurant
Loose: ~$700+
A chef fighting sentient food. That is the entire premise. Panic Restaurant is weird, colorful, and surprisingly fun. It is also another 1992 Taito release with a microscopic print run. You will notice a pattern on this list. Late Taito games dominate the high end of NES collecting because Taito kept publishing quality games for a platform that most publishers had already abandoned.
5. Bonk’s Adventure
Loose: ~$600+
Most people know Bonk as the mascot of the TurboGrafx-16. What most people don’t know is that Bonk’s Adventure was ported to the NES. Almost nobody bought it. The TurboGrafx was already a niche console, and porting its mascot game to the NES in 1994 was a decision that made zero business sense at the time. Collectors benefit from that bad decision today.
6. Kid Klown in Night Mayor World
Loose: ~$500+
A platformer from Kemco that arrived on the NES in 1993. By that point, the NES was two years into its slow retirement. Kid Klown is a decent game with colorful graphics, but its late release and limited distribution made it an instant rarity. It has quietly climbed in price over the last few years as collectors check off the easier titles and start hunting the harder ones.
7. Zombie Nation
Loose: ~$450+
You play as a giant floating samurai head destroying buildings across America. I am not making that up. Zombie Nation is one of the strangest games in the NES library and one of the most sought after. It was published by Meldac in 1991 with a very limited run. The bizarre premise and genuine scarcity make this a conversation piece on any shelf.
8. Cowboy Kid
Loose: ~$400+
A western-themed action game from Romstar that barely registered when it came out in 1992. Cowboy Kid mixes platforming with light RPG elements and a surprisingly ambitious world for an 8-bit game. It was overshadowed by everything else releasing at the time, and the small production run means clean copies are getting harder to find every year.
9. Bubble Bobble Part 2
Loose: ~$350+
The original Bubble Bobble is one of the most common NES games in existence. Part 2 is the opposite. Released by Taito in 1993, this sequel had a fraction of the original’s distribution. It is a perfectly fine Bubble Bobble game with updated graphics and new level designs. The price gap between the original (a few dollars) and Part 2 (hundreds) is one of the starkest examples of how release timing affects value in NES collecting.
10. Dragon Fighter
Loose: ~$300+
A side-scrolling action game from Natsume released in 1992. You play a warrior who can transform into a dragon. The game pushes the NES hardware with some impressive visual effects and large sprites. Dragon Fighter was one of many late-era releases that got buried under the SNES hype cycle. Collectors have been finding it in recent years and the price keeps climbing.
Price Versus Joy
Here is the thing about that list. I have handled thousands of NES games over the years at CastleMania. I know exactly what those carts are worth. But if you asked me which NES games I would actually sit down and play on a Friday night, the list looks completely different.
My personal top 10 for pure enjoyment:
Rygar
Castlevania III: Dracula’s Curse
Contra
Super Mario Bros. 3
Metroid
The Legend of Zelda
Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out!!
Final Fantasy
Batman: The Video Game
Mega Man 2
You can buy every single game on that list for less than the price of one loose Little Samson. That is not a knock on Little Samson. It is a reminder that the most expensive game on the shelf is not always the one that matters most.
Your list will be different from mine. It should be. That is the whole point.
How Collectors Actually Get the Expensive Stuff
If you are staring at that price list and wondering how anyone actually acquires a Zombie Nation or a Little Samson, you are not alone. Most collectors are not dropping $1,800 in cash on a single cart. Here is how it usually happens.
Trading is the most common strategy. Games like Contra, Super Mario Bros. 3, and Mega Man 2 are not rare. They are popular. Sellers love them because they move fast. A retro game store can sell ten copies of Contra in the time it takes to sell one Zombie Nation. That velocity has value. If you walk into a shop or a convention booth with a stack of popular, easy-to-sell games and offer a trade toward something expensive, you will often get a better deal than straight cash. The seller gets inventory they can turn over quickly. You get the grail cart. Everyone wins.
Conventions are where the deals happen. Bring a bit driver. Seriously. Open the cart up and look at the board before you hand over hundreds of dollars. Counterfeits are everywhere and they are getting better. The same goes for eBay. Always ask for pictures of the PCB board. If the seller won’t show it, walk away. We wrote an entire guide on this: How to Spot Fake Retro Games Before You Get Burned.
eBay is always an option if you are impatient. You will pay market price, sometimes more. But if a specific game is the last piece you need, sometimes you just want it done. Set up saved searches for the games you are hunting and check completed listings to know what things are actually selling for. Not what people are asking. What they are getting.
What Collecting Really Means
I think before you start chasing the expensive stuff, it is worth asking yourself what you are collecting for.
I am more of a curated collector. I find value in two things: memories and actually playing the games. I am not trying to fill every slot in a spreadsheet. I want a shelf that means something when I look at it.
For example, I have a copy of Milon’s Secret Castle. It is not a great game. Most people would tell you it is frustrating and confusing, and they would be right. But I played it at my aunt’s house every Thanksgiving as a kid. I can still feel the carpet on my forearms when I think about it. Laying on my stomach in front of her CRT, trying to figure out what to do next, not really caring if I ever beat it. Every time I see it on the shelf, I am right back in that room.
[product slug=”milons-secret-castle-nes”]
That is value too. And no price chart can measure it.
Build the collection that matters to you. Chase the grails if that is your thing. Play the games if that is your thing. Keep the ones that take you back to a moment you don’t want to forget. There is no wrong way to do this.
Just bring the bit driver.
Prices sourced from PriceCharting.com as of April 2026. All values are for loose cartridges in good condition. Prices fluctuate. Always verify before purchasing.
The retro game market has a counterfeiting problem. We wrote a whole article about how to spot fakes. But somewhere along the way, the conversation about counterfeits absorbed a completely different conversation about reproductions, and the two got tangled into one big mess of moral panic. They are not the same thing. In fact, there are multiple tiers here that deserve separate treatment. Let’s untangle this.
The Spectrum Nobody Talks About
Most people frame this as a binary: original or fake. The reality is more like a spectrum, and where something falls on that spectrum matters.
On one end, you have original pressings. Authentic cartridges manufactured during a console’s commercial lifespan. These are what collectors are after, and their value reflects scarcity and demand.
On the other end, you have counterfeits. Cartridges designed to deceive the buyer into believing they are purchasing an original. The label mimics the original. The shell color matches. The packaging is replicated. The entire point is to pass as something it is not, usually at a price that reflects authenticity. That is fraud.
In between, there are at least two distinct categories that get unfairly lumped together: authorized reproductions and unauthorized reproductions. They are different in important ways, and the community needs to treat them differently.
Authorized Reproductions: The Best Case Scenario
This is the part of the conversation most people skip entirely.
Companies like Retro-Bit Publishing have built a business around officially licensed re-releases of rare and hard-to-find retro games. These are not bootlegs. These are new production runs created in direct partnership with the original IP holders, with proper licensing agreements in place.
Take Metal Storm on the NES. The original 1991 release was a commercial underperformance despite critical praise, largely because it launched at the tail end of the NES lifecycle right as the SNES was arriving. That low print run turned it into one of the most sought-after NES cartridges in the collector market, regularly selling for well over $100 loose. Retro-Bit partnered with Irem to produce an officially licensed re-release based on the Japanese Famicom version, complete with a full English translation that had never existed before, restored story cutscenes that were cut from the original US release, and higher difficulty options. That is not a bootleg. That is a product that arguably delivers a better version of the game than the original retail release.
Then there is Undeadline. This is a 1991 Mega Drive vertical shooter from T&E Soft that was only ever released in Japan. Finding an original copy is expensive and difficult, and even if you tracked one down, you would be playing it entirely in Japanese. Retro-Bit licensed the game through D4 Enterprise (the current IP holder), produced the first official release outside of Japan, and had it professionally localized into English for the first time. This is not just preservation. This is a game being made properly accessible to an audience that never had the chance to play it.
Retro-Bit Publishing releases are officially licensed, individually numbered, and built with 5-volt chips to protect your console. This is what authorized reproductions look like.
Retro-Bit Publishing does two things consistently across their catalog. First, they re-release rare games that have become prohibitively expensive on the collector market, giving players access to titles that would otherwise be locked behind three-figure price tags. Second, they localize Japanese exclusives that never made it to Western markets during the original console’s lifespan. Both of these serve the community in ways that counterfeits never could.
Their production quality reflects the legitimacy of the operation. They use 5-volt chips to prevent console damage. The cartridge edges are beveled and rounded to protect console pins. Each release comes with a certificate of authenticity and an individually numbered commemorative slipcover from a limited production run. The PCBs are purpose-built, and the packaging includes full-color manuals, art cards, posters, and in some cases figurines. These are collector’s items in their own right, not disposable knockoffs.
CastleMania Games is proud to carry Retro-Bit Publishing titles, and we consider them one of the best things happening in the retro space right now. When the system works like this, with proper licensing, professional production, and transparent marketing, everyone wins. The IP holders get revenue from their back catalog. Players get access to games on original hardware at reasonable prices. Collectors get a legitimately produced product that adds value to their shelves.
The problem is that authorized reproductions like these represent a small fraction of the reproduction market. Most of what you encounter in the wild is unauthorized.
Unauthorized Reproductions: Where the Lines Get Blurry
Here is where it gets complicated.
The demand for playable retro games on original hardware far outstrips the supply of authorized options. Retro-Bit Publishing has released a solid catalog, but they cannot cover every title that the market wants. There are hundreds of expensive, hard-to-find games across every platform with no official re-release on the horizon.
Into that gap steps the unauthorized reproduction market. Individual sellers and small operations producing cartridges without licensing agreements, selling them through eBay, Etsy, and dedicated retro gaming shops. This market exists because the original manufacturers are not meeting the demand. Nintendo is not pressing new SNES cartridges. Sega is not restocking Saturn games. Until the day every retro title is available through official digital channels (and we are nowhere close), unauthorized reproductions fill a gap that the market created.
You can disagree with that framing. But the demand is real, the supply is real, and pretending it will go away if we shame it hard enough is not a strategy.
My position is that within this market, there is a clear ethical line, and it has nothing to do with whether a cartridge contains an unauthorized copy of a ROM. The line is deception.
A responsible unauthorized reproduction cartridge should meet three criteria:
Non-standard shell color. If the original game came in a gray SNES cart, the repro should not be gray. Use a clear shell. Use a colored shell. Use anything that makes it visually obvious this is not an original pressing.
“Reproduction” printed on the label. Not in fine print. Not hidden on the back. Right on the front label, clearly legible. A buyer, a collector, a friend picking it up off your shelf should be able to identify it as a repro within seconds.
“Reproduction” marked on the PCB. Labels can be swapped. If the board itself is marked, it becomes much harder for someone downstream to pass the cart off as original. This protects every future owner, not just the first buyer.
A reproduction that meets all three of those criteria is not pretending to be something it is not. It is a functional copy of a game on period-appropriate hardware, clearly labeled as such. You can debate the copyright implications all day, but it is not the same moral problem as a counterfeit designed to deceive.
A reproduction that fails any of those criteria starts sliding toward counterfeit territory, regardless of what the seller calls it.
The Everdrive Question
If you have already decided that playing ROMs on original hardware is something you are comfortable with, the cleanest path is an Everdrive or similar flash cartridge. One cartridge, one SD card, your entire library. No questions about individual cart authenticity. No risk of accidentally reselling a reproduction as an original years down the road.
I understand the appeal of individual repro carts. There is something satisfying about pulling a specific cartridge off a shelf and slotting it in. It feels more like collecting than loading a file off a menu. But from a pure ethics standpoint, the Everdrive sidesteps most of the gray area. You are not creating a physical object that could be confused with an original product at any point in its lifecycle.
The counterargument is that not everyone wants to spend $100 or more on an Everdrive for each platform they collect. A $25 repro cart of one specific game can make more sense for a casual player who only wants a handful of titles. That is fair. Just make sure what you are buying is clearly marked as a reproduction and not a counterfeit trying to pass as real.
And honestly, if an authorized version exists from a publisher like Retro-Bit, buy the authorized version. The price difference between a $25 unlicensed repro and a $45-70 licensed re-release is worth it. You get a better product, you support the IP holder, and you own something with legitimate provenance.
Where the Community Should Push
The retro gaming community spends enormous energy debating whether reproductions are acceptable. That energy would be better spent on three things.
First, support authorized reproduction publishers. Companies like Retro-Bit Publishing prove that the model works. They take community input on which titles to re-release. They license properly. They produce quality products at fair prices. The more successful this model is, the more titles get the treatment, and the less demand there is for the unauthorized market to fill. When you see a title you have been wanting get an authorized re-release, buy it. Tell other collectors about it. That is how the market signals that this approach is worth investing in.
Second, push for honest labeling in the unauthorized market. If you see a seller on eBay or Etsy marketing repro carts without clear “reproduction” labeling, call it out. Leave feedback. Report listings that are deliberately ambiguous about authenticity. Push for non-standard shell colors as an industry norm. The repro community has largely moved in this direction on its own, with clear and colored shells becoming common. Reinforce that trend.
Third, educate new collectors on the full spectrum. A lot of people entering the retro space do not know that authorized reproductions exist at all. They do not know the difference between a Retro-Bit Publishing release with a certificate of authenticity and an unmarked repro cart from AliExpress. Articles like our counterfeit spotting guide and resources like Game Verifying are how we close that knowledge gap. But we also need to talk about the authorized options, because those are the cleanest answer to the accessibility problem.
The Copyright Conversation
I am not going to pretend that unauthorized reproduction cartridges exist in a comfortable legal space. They do not. Reproducing and selling a copyrighted game without the rights holder’s permission is, in most jurisdictions, illegal regardless of how clearly you label it. That is the reality.
But legality and ethics are not the same conversation. And more importantly, the existence of authorized reproductions proves that there is a legal path forward for making rare games accessible. The more the community supports that legal path, the wider it becomes.
My position is not that unauthorized reproductions are legal. My position is that within a market that operates regardless of its legal status, there is a meaningful ethical difference between a product that is honest about what it is and a product designed to deceive. And above both of those sits a category that most people do not even realize exists: officially licensed re-releases that give everyone what they want without any of the ethical baggage.
The Bottom Line
Here is the hierarchy as I see it.
Authorized reproductions from licensed publishers are the gold standard. They give players access to rare titles on original hardware, they compensate IP holders, and they add legitimate products to the collector market. If one exists for a game you want, buy it.
Clearly-labeled unauthorized reproductions are a gray area, but an honest one. If the shell is a non-standard color, the label says “reproduction,” and the PCB is marked, you know exactly what you are getting. Nobody is being deceived. The legal questions remain, but the ethical ones are manageable.
Counterfeits are the problem. They deceive buyers, erode trust in the marketplace, inflate prices by making authentication harder, and make every transaction in the retro space more stressful. They deserve every bit of scrutiny the community gives them.
The retro community does not need to agree on where exactly the line falls between acceptable and unacceptable. What it does need to agree on is that these are distinct categories with distinct ethical implications, and that flattening them into one conversation helps no one except the counterfeiters who benefit from the confusion.
If you are buying retro games and want to make sure you are not getting scammed, read our guide on how to spot fake retro games. And if you want to go deep on verification for specific platforms, Game Verifying is the best resource available.
I didn’t fall in love with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers on my own.
We loaded up the car in no real rush, miles ahead of us and a soundtrack that seemed to stretch as far as the road. Along the way, with windows rolled down, we’d pass by wild (iron) horses, wind blowing through our hair. Hot, dusty desert air that somehow, on the road, felt cool and alive breezing and swirling through.
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Rush, Pink Floyd, the Grateful Dead. Music I might have never found on my own, but somehow became part of me. A soundtrack that was guiding and pointing me in the direction of who I would become.
There is something magical about a road trip that makes everything feel suspended.
At the Gorge
At the Gorge Amphitheatre everything felt bigger. The canyon opened wide under an endless sky, the Columbia River rushing through below, like it had seen it all before and would long after we were gone. The music carried differently there, like it had more space to breathe.
We didn’t just go for the shows. We camped out, hiking by day under the hot sun, and sitting by a crackling fire at night. The music still echoing long after the last set had ended. Those quiet moments after the sun sets, the cool of dusk gently blowing through the dark night air.
On a Seattle night, sleep awaited as Eric Clapton serenaded his captives with “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” the moment lingering like a dream. Surreal, haunting, a memory one hopes never fades.
Too young, too naive yet to accept the music would be all that could endure.
The Songs Stay With You
Long after the road trips ended, after the camping gear was packed away for good, after the version of us that existed in those places quietly disappeared, the music stays with you.
Tom Petty still comes on. Rush. Pink Floyd. Songs that once felt like shared memories now play in entirely different spaces. Like time travel, they live on now with my life partner, our children, and their young loves. And every time the songs play, they remind me of a version of myself I don’t quite recognize anymore, but haven’t completely let go of either.
They keep playing, hauntingly familiar, holding onto pieces of your life you can’t return to, but can still feel.
The songs still carry us through, and somehow still know exactly where to find us.
Written by Lisa Schlemmer. Co-Founder of CastleMania Games and CastleMania Entertainment. Lisa connects artists, entrepreneurs’ stories, and community through meaningful conversations and experiences.
I made a throwaway post the other day. Pretty simple. It said: if the next-gen Xbox hardware project Helix ships without a disc drive, it will be dead on arrival.
It resonated with a lot of people. And that told me something.
Not that my take was some brilliant revelation, but that a nerve is exposed right now in gaming. People feel it. Something is off. And it’s not one thing. It’s a slow accumulation of decisions being made above our heads that are reshaping what it means to be a gamer, and not in ways most of us asked for.
So I want to talk about what’s broken, why disc drives actually matter, and what I think we should be demanding from the companies that steward this industry. Consider this an open letter. I know there are devs and decision-makers who will see this. I hope they’re listening.
The MVP Problem
Here is what’s happening now: games ship in what I’m calling MVP state. Minimum viable product. It works. Is it complete? No. Is it the writers’ and developers’ vision for what this game was supposed to be? Not even close.
It used to be that patches were the exception. Something slipped past testing, and a fix came through. That was fine. Now the patch is the product. The game you buy on day one is a rough draft. Maybe a year later it becomes what it was always supposed to be. But by then, most of the player base has moved on.
If Resident Evil gets a substantial overhaul six months after launch, it could be years before I come back and see what changed. I already finished the game. That moment is gone. And instead of this being the exception, it’s become the standard.
Ownership Is Becoming a Memory
We are being asked to rent more and more of our lives from companies. Everything is temporary. Everything is fleeting.
Let’s say you’ve been on Game Pass for two or three years. You’re enjoying it. Then something happens. Life happens. You need to step away from that subscription for a while. You pause it, and you realize your console doesn’t do anything anymore. There is nothing on it that you can play, because you were renting the entire time.
Those of us who grew up in the 80s and 90s understand what it means to walk over to a shelf, grab a cartridge or a disc, and just play. No authentication. No server check. No subscription status. Just you and the game. That ability is disappearing, and most people won’t realize what they lost until it’s gone.
When you buy a digital game, you’re not really buying the game. You’re buying permission to access it. That permission can vanish. The store shuts down. The license expires. Your account gets banned. A publisher just pulls the game. We have already seen all of these things happen.
The Identity Crisis
There’s another layer to this that doesn’t get enough attention: console identity is evaporating.
Think about what each platform used to mean. Nintendo has always challenged itself to make the hardware part of the experience. NES to Super Nintendo was a massive leap. The Wii introduced an entirely new way to play. Every time we saw a weird controller and thought “what are they thinking,” it ended up feeling natural in our hands. Nintendo has identity in its characters, in Mario, Metroid, Zelda, Kirby, but also in the way their games feel to play.
PlayStation came out swinging as the more mature alternative. Xbox picked up where Sega left off, the arcade DNA, the online-first mentality, and then built its own pillars with Halo, Gears of War, and Fable. These were games designed for that controller, best played on that hardware, at home on that platform.
Somewhere along the way, those lines blurred. Now we’re going to see Halo on PlayStation. And look, I hear the argument. Accessibility is good. Not everyone can afford multiple expensive consoles. That’s valid. But the more you do that, the more you have to answer the question: what’s the point?
If Microsoft wants to be a third-party publisher, then they should commit to that. If they believe they’re a software company that delivers software best, that’s a legitimate path. But then what is Helix? What is it for?
Why Disc Drives Actually Matter
If we remove physical media from gaming, we lose three things: ownership, preservation, and choice.
I’ve already talked about ownership. But preservation might be the most important one, and it’s the one most people won’t think about until it’s too late.
Gaming history is disappearing faster than ever. When servers shut down, when storefronts close, when publishers go offline and rights get tangled up in corporate mergers, games simply vanish. Digital-only accelerates that. A disc is the closest thing we have to a permanent record. Twenty years from now, you can still plug in a retro console and play those games. The rights may have changed hands a dozen times, but the disc still works.
And then there’s backwards compatibility. Microsoft has actually been great about this, investing real money in making older games playable on newer hardware. They made that promise to us. So why would they ship a console that can’t read the discs those older games are on? If they don’t include a disc drive, what happens to that entire library?
Now, I want to address a couple of things that came up in the conversation.
“Discs are too small and too slow.” Agreed. I’m not saying games should read off the disc in real time. I’m saying the install files should be on the disc. You install from the disc to your system. If you need to delete it later to make room, fine. But you still have the disc. You can always reinstall. Multiple discs solve the capacity problem. We’ve done it before.
“PC gaming doesn’t use discs and PC gaming is fine.” True. But PC gaming is fundamentally different. It’s an open platform. You can mod games, maintain independent patch archives, access files directly, and choose from multiple storefronts and launchers. Console gaming doesn’t work that way. Consoles are closed ecosystems, and that’s exactly why physical media matters more on console than it does on PC.
The GOG Model Shows Us a Better Way
A lot of people brought up GOG, Good Old Games, and they were right to. GOG is proof that digital ownership can work when a company actually wants it to.
GOG sells games without DRM. You download the full install file. You can run it without the GOG launcher. You can back it up to a hard drive or any archive you want. It runs offline forever. Even if GOG disappears tomorrow, that file you purchased is yours.
Compare that to Steam, where your library is tied to your account, most games require authentication, and offline play comes with caveats that basically amount to “it might not work.” And the same applies to the digital storefronts on Nintendo, Sony, and Microsoft. What happens if your account gets banned and you’ve sunk thousands of dollars into that library? What do you do?
Microsoft is the largest developer and publisher on the planet. They could implement the GOG model tomorrow. They could give you true ownership over your digital purchases. They are choosing not to. That should tell you something about where their priorities are.
From Behind the Counter
I want to share something from the CastleMania perspective, because we’ve seen this from a side most people don’t.
Several years ago, we were offering new games at launch, day and date with every major retailer. We could do that because we had a relationship with a company called Ingram Entertainment. Most people have never heard of Ingram, but they were the largest U.S. distributor for physical media: games, movies, music. They supplied CastleMania Games. They supplied Best Buy, Walmart, Target. If you bought a physical game in America, odds are it came through Ingram.
In September 2023, Ingram announced they were shutting down distribution. Costs were exceeding sales. They gave the industry a year’s notice and wound down operations.
Here’s what that looked like on our end. A game retailed for $59.99. Our cost was something like $52.70. Amazon was shipping these things for free to Prime members. Big box stores had foot traffic and impulse buys to offset thin margins. For an e-commerce store like ours, it was often a loss leader. You carried new releases so people would find your store and maybe buy something else while they were there.
Was that sustainable? Not really. And that brings up an uncomfortable question.
Games cost $60 in the 90s. They still cost $60 in the early 2020s. An all-digital future never brought the price down for consumers, but was it quietly subsidizing what should have been a price increase on the physical side? Maybe. The economics were breaking long before Ingram pulled the plug.
But here’s the other side of that coin. Are these companies actively making it harder to release games physically? The minimum order quantities tell a story. Common knowledge in the industry is that Microsoft’s MOQ sits around 10,000 units while Sony’s was closer to 3,000. That’s a big gap, and it’s one reason companies like Limited Run started exclusively with PlayStation. Sony was simply more friendly to physical publishing.
What Digital Gets Right
I want to be fair. Digital distribution has done genuinely good things for gaming.
It demolished the barrier to entry for independent developers. Games like Stardew Valley and Shovel Knight broke through in an environment where physical publishing would have been cost-prohibitive. They went direct to the customer, and their games stood on their own merits. That matters enormously.
Digital also means worldwide access on launch day. It doesn’t matter what country you live in. That wasn’t always true when we were shipping physical product around the globe.
Is an all-digital future inevitable? Possibly. Can we do it better than we’re doing it now? Absolutely.
A Gamer’s Bill of Rights
So here’s what I’m proposing. Call it a Gamer’s Bill of Rights. Maybe that’s a dramatic name, but these are principles that the people stewarding modern gaming should get behind.
Ship complete games. Not MVPs. Not roadmaps. The game should be finished on launch day.
Put the game on the disc. The full install files. Not a download key. Not a launcher redirect. A game that is playable offline, today and in the future. If there’s a campaign, it goes on the disc.
Respect the purchase. We should own the version of the game we bought. If it changes after the fact, we should have access to the original. Version control isn’t a radical concept. The software industry figured this out decades ago.
Allow preservation. Let us back up and archive patches. Let us maintain access to the version of the game we feel is best for us as the consumer.
No forced online for single-player games. This one is simple. If I’m playing alone, I should not need an internet connection. Full stop.
Don’t build games around monetization. Microtransactions should not shape gameplay design. That model belongs on mobile. Keep it off the console.
Move beyond “everything is an Xbox.” We don’t want thin clients that are just login portals. We want consoles with purpose, with identity, with a reason to exist beyond running the same software as every other screen in the house.
Invest in daring stories. Studios are less willing to take risks when everything is expensive and everything has to make money. But the best games, the ones people remember for decades, were the ones that challenged conventions. Give creators the room to do that. Have a program, a green light initiative, something that says we believe in this even if it’s not a guaranteed blockbuster.
This is the start of a conversation, not the end of one. I want to hear from you. What am I missing? What are you seeing? What matters to you?
Because the people making these decisions need to hear it. Not from me. From all of us.
