Doom was the father of the first-person shooter genre, and it completely changed the landscape of video games. It introduced fast-paced, intense gameplay, and its level design was revolutionary. The modding community around Doom was also groundbreaking, with players creating their own levels and content to share with others. Doom set the standard for FPS games to come, and its influence can still be seen in the genre today.
Each of these responses highlights the diverse ways in which video games can have a profound impact on individuals. Whether it’s through storytelling, atmosphere, character representation, or gameplay mechanics, the influence of video games can be far-reaching and long-lasting. As the Bafta survey shows, there is no one definitive answer to the question of the most influential video game of all time – it ultimately comes down to personal experiences and connections with the medium.
Doom defined the first person shooter and set the stage for what is gaming’s most popular genre. At the same time, it introduced deathmatch and online multiplayer to a wide audience. All FPS games truly owe their DNA to Doom.
Doom was created to be moddable, and that decision is part of the reason why the community is still active almost 32 years later. I don’t know of a single game developer who was not taken aback when Doom hit. It was mind blowing and a cultural shift for both games and game culture. At the time, consoles really dominated, and Doom sold the PC hard.
From a design perspective, Doom introduced the abstract level design philosophy, the style for which John Romero is still known. As a designer, the non-linear and non-standard level design was a big break from the way things were done at the time. I have heard others say that everything about those early levels was a masterclass in game design. Not a week goes by where a well-known game developer doesn’t credit Doom for inspiring them and starting their career. And it’s still going, now playable on everything from pianos to ATMs and pregnancy tests.
Iain Cook, musician, producer and composer
Mile melter … A Nintendo 64 with a Mario Kart 64 cartridge. Photograph: Sam Stephenson/Alamy
I had mostly kicked my video game addiction for the only period in my life between 1997 and 1999, but fell off the wagon hard when the PlayStation 2 was released. The next-gen allure of Metal Gear Solid 2, Silent Hill 2 and Gran Turismo 3 convinced me that I was missing out on something revolutionary. But in 2001 I was suddenly in the recording studio and on tour in Europe and America with my first proper band, Aereogramme, and there was a lot of downtime to fill. Eight-hour driving days in the back of a smokey van; endless post-soundcheck afternoons, waiting anxiously to go on stage. Not that I didn’t succumb to other vices, but video games made the hours melt away. Advance Wars was a huge hit with me and my bandmates; the pass-and-play turn-based strategy really worked to engage the brain in between service station piss stops and weed-induced naps. But it was Mario Kart (1992-present) that really got the heart pounding.
In time trials on 2001’s Super Circuit I would spend an hour or more trying to shave a tenth of a second off the previous best three laps laid down by the fastest racer in the band. Once we’d dialled in on a new course, identified the shortcuts and mapped out the best racing line, you had to stitch all of those things perfectly together in a single run. Mess up and there’s no point in continuing. Restart. Deep breath. Palms sweating. You needed total focus as well as muscle memory. The mounting anxiety explodes in expletive-filled euphoria when you cross the line. This game has brought me together with some amazing people. I’m now part of a WhatsApp group where my friends and I compete with other bands and video game industry people, setting a new course every couple of weeks, posting screenshots to validate authenticity. I know for sure that when Mario Kart 9 drops, my productivity is going to drop sharply again.
Sam Barlow, game designer and founder of Half Mermaid
Way to go … Super Mario Bros. Photograph: Nintendo
Super Mario Bros (1985). What more to say? You move a character – he looks like a human, and a characterful human. There is a world: the one in the background, evocative landscapes and skies; and the one in the foreground that you run and jump over. The imagery! Natural landscapes mashed up with Alice in Wonderland. The physics and the controls allow expression – you can go fast, slow, cautious, bold … it’s the way in which we exist as a primal level as a biped that walks through the world, condensed down into a game. Challenge, exploration, expression. We go left to right, and there are levels and goals and bosses … and secrets! This game laid down the structures and the ideas that we’ve been using ever since – but also showed that masterful execution is the heart of a video game.
Shuhei Yoshida, former head of PlayStation Studios
Sentimental … Journey. Photograph: Sony
My most influential game of all time is Journey (2012). Journey moved players deeply; they had tears in their eyes at the end. It was proof that a game, like movies and novels, could affect people emotionally.
This game, which was developed by a small team of 18 people and could be played in three to four hours, swept most of the industry’s highest game of the year honours, competing against AAA blockbuster titles. I believe it was the first time that had happened in the industry.
Meghna Jayanth, writer and narrative designer
Sim sensation … Princess Maker 2 Refine. Photograph: CFK Co/Bliss Brain
The Princess Maker series (1991-2007). You are tasked with raising a fairy princess disguised as an ordinary human girl, managing her time between learning important skills, pursuing her interests, adventuring and dating. This early social simulation game is surprisingly crunchy and punishing; it’s extremely possible for your “daughter” to die or be exiled during the various social and political trials that mark her coming-of-age. Each instalment varies, but it’s not uncommon to have 50+ endings as well as branching dialogue and narrative events conditional on your princess’s particular stats and attributes. As a narrative designer this game was a revelation, and apart from in my own work, I think you can see its influence in everything from the wildly successful Persona games to last year’s intriguing indie meditation on capitalism Final Profit to any of Hanako Games’ niche but satisfying offerings. In fact, I see a genre through-line all the way to the ambitious and genuinely brilliant design of indie game Closer the Distance, one of this year’s Independent games festival narrative nominees. Oh, and it was unashamedly marketed to and interested in girls. I wish more publishers and executives would pay attention. Este es un juego que desearía que fuera aún más influyente.
Keith Stuart, corresponsal de videojuegos de The Guardian
Foto: Atari
En la década de 1980, la mayoría de los juegos que jugaba eran extremadamente abstractos: eras una nave espacial luchando contra alienígenas, o eras un círculo amarillo hambriento perseguido por fantasmas. Pero en 1985, Atari lanzó Paperboy, un juego en el que eras un niño repartiendo periódicos. Este clásico de arcade fue revolucionario en el sentido de que presentaba un trabajo de la vida real, además de presentar un mundo lleno de detalles y experimentación, en el que a los jugadores se les recompensaba activamente por hacer travesuras. ¿Qué pasaría si lanzaras un periódico a una ventana o a un transeúnte? Obtenías retroalimentación. Las ventanas se rompían, la gente te perseguía. Como escolar con una ruta de reparto de periódicos real, se sentía extrañamente terapéutico hacer mal el trabajo, pero en términos de diseño de juegos también enseñó a una generación de creadores que el mundo cotidiano es un lugar emocionante, divertido y desafiante para ambientar un videojuego. Y como un juego que recompensaba la travesura, fue el GTA una docena de años antes.