The unlikely comeback of physical media among younger gamers has brought the humble VHS tape back into focus as an unexpected archive of gaming’s evolution. For those of a certain age, the format stirs deep nostalgia, prompting one writer to buy a VHS recorder and a 32-inch CRT television at auction. The aim: to revisit the fragile, low-resolution treasures of a pre-internet era.
The 1980s and 90s saw the games industry and home-video business boom in tandem, crossing paths in intriguing ways. Classic game-inspired films such as The Last Starfighter, The Wizard and WarGames are sought-after items, alongside notorious flops like Street Fighter: The Movie and the 1993 Super Mario Bros. movie. These tapes, once rented from local video shops that also sold budget-priced Mastertronic games, now represent a crossover between two entertainment formats.
Rarer still are the tie-in cartoons that flooded VHS shelves as TV channels recognised gaming’s appeal. Tapes collecting the disastrous Pac-Man and Pole Position cartoons, the mixed live-action and animated Super Mario Bros. Super Show!, and the notoriously bad Captain N: The Game Master are all on the radar. There are also decent anime adaptations of Street Fighter and Tekken, proving the format wasn’t all duds.
Before the internet, videotapes served as promotional tools for arcade giants like Konami and Irem, who sent demo reels to distributors. Capcom’s Japanese fanclub posted videotapes with trailers and developer interviews to members. Many of these rarities still surface on eBay or through Japanese auction proxies. UK gaming magazines also got in on the act, covermounting VHS tapes with demos and previews. The first issue of DC-UK in 1999, for instance, included a demo video that was a nightmare to produce. Meanwhile, Mean Machines’ Sega Preview Tape featured Sonic the Hedgehog 2 alongside notoriously awful footage of the scrolling platformer Greendog: The Beached Surfer Dude!
This nostalgia extends beyond older generations. Gen Z, weary of smartphone-fed content, are embracing physical media – vinyl led the way, followed by old digital cameras, DVDs, and now VHS and even Betamax. The appeal lies partly in the ritual of renting, playing and rewinding, and partly in the tactile pleasure of chunky boxes and printed art. The glitchy, low-resolution imagery mirrors the visual signature of classic games, lending a patina that streaming cannot replicate.
Preserving these tapes is not without effort, as mould can infect old cassettes. Yet the reward is worth it: they reveal a nascent medium tentatively connecting with other screen cultures. With the games industry having been notoriously poor at archiving its own history, every bid for a battered VHS tape becomes a small act of rescue.
