Fuku-San!

There was a time where I didn't play video games. That time existed in high school and lasted a few years. I had played video games my entire life, and yet, I wasn't into them anymore. I started with simplistic computer games, moves onto an Atari (my brother and sister's Atari, mind you), then it was Nintendo, Sega Genesis, Super Nintendo, Playstation, Nintendo 64. It was around this time, the Playstation 2 dropped and I lost interest.

I can't say why exactly. It just seemed silly to me at the time. Video games were kids' stuff, right? It was 1999 or so, and I didn't give a damn anymore. Sega was about to unleash the greatest video game system of all-time on our collective asses, on 9/9/99, no less, and I still didn't care.

At this time, I coming into my own with my literary and film-land heroes. David Lynch and Bret Easton Ellis were taking up my brain space and names like Hideo Kojima and Shigesato Itoi didn't mean much to me anymore.

At a friend's house one day, when the Dreamcast was on it's way out, sometime in 2001 (pre-9/11, mind you), I played this famous Sega system. The game was Crazy Taxi, a masterwork of racing and excitement that still gets my blood pumping when I happen to flip the Dreamcast on and play it, hearing Offspring blasting through my television speakers. I even dyed my hair green, that's how obsessed I became with this game. It's hero, Axel, was like a god to me. I don't know why. He would be my first video game man-crush.

The Dreamcast was my reintroduction to the world of gaming. The system was dying, however; and would soon see its games drying up, as well as seeing third-party support vanish. A shame, really, because the system did every genre justice. The 2K sports games were revolutionary on the Dreamcast, as were so many 2-D fighting games, like my all-time favorite, Street Fighter.

In reality, though, it was one game that would become one of my three all-time favorites. That game was called Shenmue. There wasn't a single thing wrong with the game, though, of course, many would find faults with it years after release. The game was cinematic in a way no other game has been since. The music was pure magic. I make this promise now, should I ever be given a sum of money to make any kind of film or piece of entertainment I desire, I promise it'll be a Shenmue film.

The story is simple, really, a young kung-fu expert's father is murdered by a mysterious assailant, who is seeking some kind of "mirror" that will be used to give him mystical abilities to make himself nearly immortal. That's the basic gist. Along the way, your lead character, Ryo, uncovers mysteries, gets into fights, gets a job, and swears vengeance for the death of his father. A simply perfect revenge story where the game ends on a massive cliffhanger.

A sequel was released on the XBOX, but I never beat it. I don't know why. I'm a fool, I know.

Maybe one day, we'll get the final installment to the Shenmue franchise, Maybe Ryo will avenge his father. Maybe he'll become a victim, as well, in a beautiful twist of fate by Yu Suzuki, creator of the game.

So, thanks to Shenmue, my thirst for video games was renewed. An epic, cinematic journey from a small city in Japan to China. I promised myself that one day, I would visit the real region that Ryo Hazuki is from. I would set foot in a traditional dojo. I would attempt a move he makes. Any move. It doesn't matter which.

I'm such a geek for this game, it's unbearable. I'd even want the hero's leather jacket, if I could get it.

I could always make one, like this dude.

Oh Shenmue, you ruined me.