Can a 19-Year-Old Crush in Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion Still Spark Excitement? | Games

fDuring the 10-day span of summer 2006, I handed in my resignation from my first job at a gaming magazine and returned to Scotland to start college. My life revolved around eating, sleeping, and losing myself in an Xbox 360. That was my entire existence. I played as a Khajiit thief, resembling a dark Mankilion in sleek black leather armor, boasting impressive pickpocketing skills. One afternoon, I decided to attempt stealing every item in the quaint town of Bravil, only to be apprehended by the guards for hours. I found myself running around, dropping random planks, cheese wheels, and trails of doublets.

Many of you may share similar experiences in Bethesda games—if not forgetting, perhaps in Skyrim or Fallout 3. Explore as you wish! Experiment with bizarre spells and test your luck against thieves! Venture into caves to battle necromancers, only to be ambushed by vampires! While open-world games like these may seem exhausting now, Forgetfulness was my introduction to gaming. Following Bethesda’s surprise release of a remake last Friday, I’ve been indulging in it nonstop.

It was indeed a surprise. The Oblivion Remake/Remaster is one of the industry’s worst-kept secrets, second only to the Switch 2, and I’ve been eagerly anticipating it for months. Over the last 20 years, Oblivion has gained notoriety for its technical quirks and amusing glitches, alongside its groundbreaking design. I was relieved to discover that Bethesda chose not to fix these quirks. Characters remain stuck in walls, reciting Asinine’s dialogue repeatedly. The facial animations still miss the mark. The game crashed mere minutes after Patrick Stewart’s opening line as the Emperor of Cyrodiil, and I found myself falling through the world, twice. Oddities happen so often that they’re rarely intentional. They are preserved in the Notorious voice-activated blooper, a perfect time capsule of ’00s accidental gaming comedy, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

While Cyrodiil felt vast and picturesque, adorned with gentle, mystical ruins and rivers reflecting the light, by 2025’s standards, it feels quaint, resembling perhaps just the opening section of a much larger game map. (I’m particularly reminded of Avowed. It’s akin to a recent Elder Scroll offering from Microsoft Studio Obsidian.) The grand imperial city at the center feels more like a small village with interconnected districts housing around 30 characters. I still don’t understand how I spent over 100 hours in such a compact space as a teenager, but during a recent playthrough, I was astonished to find I remembered many details and had encounters with new characters from quests I’d not thought of in years.

In Oblivion, character development hinges on your actions. There’s no need to strictly choose between magic, stealth, or strength. Simply pick up a Great Sword and start using it. (The trick back then was to crouch in sneak mode, use a rubber band to hold the analog stick on the controller, and spin it until your stealth stats maxed out.) This mechanics creates a buffet-like experience where you can become a Battle Arena Champion all at once. It’s a game of choice without consequences, both forgiving and abundant, where a compact world unfolds around you.

I theorize that Bethesda RPGs offer only one immersive experience. You savor one life with Elder Scrolls, and each subsequent playthrough feels like an echo of the previous one. I spent numerous years playing Skyrim and Fallout 3, yet neither was completed. It turns out that Forgetfulness remains my game; newer, more refined open-world titles can often overwhelm me and push my patience to the limit. I still cringe at the hellish landscape of Forgetfulness, where battling the devil can feel like an eternity in a tower adorned with a flaming corpse. Its atmosphere recalls ’00s metal album art. Yet, the beauty of such a game is its ability to let you abandon the plot and explore carefree.

The Oblivion Remaster illustrates that older games don’t always need fixing—they may look different, but they retain their original soul. I believe my teenage self would agree.

What to do

If you haven’t yet played Blue Prince, stop what you’re doing and download it immediately. You play as a teenage heir to a sprawling mansion, but there’s a catch: to keep it, you must uncover the secret 46th room. The mansion resets each time you sleep, making the routes different each day, and you’re left to discover randomly generated rooms you’ve never encountered before.

I played this with my eldest son. Memo Taker is the most captivating puzzle game I’ve experienced. Even upon discovering Room 46, there remains a deep mystery to explore. Several acquaintances I know have become completely engrossed in it. Its calming pace and intellectual challenges make it perfect for when you’re recuperating. Your reward for playing is always greater knowledge.

Available on: PC, Xbox, PS5
Estimated playtime: Over 30 hours

What to read

• Sydney Sweeney stars in the film adaptation of the Hazelight cooperative game Split Fiction. What do you think? Are you planning to work on it? My partner and I are currently midway through the game, and it’s a blast—odd and enjoyable, yet the plot and character development are… not particularly complex.

• According to Video Game Chronicle, in October they shared details about The Ghost of Yotei, a sequel to the visually stunning, yet bloated, Ghost of Tsushima. “Players will pursue Yotei Six, a group of warriors responsible for devastation in Japan,” they reported. “As players hunt them down, the sash worn by the main character Atsuu will present the names of the Yotei Six being sought,” reminiscent of Arya Stark.

• Call of Duty’s Warzone has gained fame for its quirky celebrity appearances, enabling players to take down a host of famous figures, including Nicki Minaj and Lionel Messi. The latest addition? Seth Rogen, as part of the new (Heaven help us) “Weed-themed Content Package.”

• An important essay from Gizmodo raises a pertinent question: Is it time for a Predators game?

What to click

Question block

This week’s question comes from reader Toby:

“All video game movies and TV shows seem cursed, and I want to understand how adaptations of Our Last of Us Part II turn out in the end. I really feel that the interactive medium enhances that sentiment and theme. Can a story still carry the same impact when adapted to a passive medium? Which great video game narratives do you think cannot be adapted effectively into movies or shows?”

Having just watched the third episode of Season 2 of Our Last of Us, it’s evident that this season deviates more from the game’s plot compared to Season 1. As you’ve noted, the emotional depth of the game hinges on experiencing it from multiple perspectives, thus necessitating a different approach. Nevertheless, the first game’s emotional weight came from Joel’s actions, whether you agreed with them or not. The series couldn’t replicate that dynamic, so they introduced fresh perspectives and expanded on existing narratives, showcasing the practical, even if less engaging, aspects. I’m particularly drawn to the remarkable episodes featuring Bill and Frank. This embodies the essence of adaptation: offering something novel.

Based on this: No great video game stories cannot be transitioned to film or television by a skilled and insightful writer. The critical terms here aren’t simply related to literal translation; movies and shows need to provide new interpretations and viewpoints. However, many games with weak narratives could make engaging TV shows or films, given that a true visionary is at the helm.

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