A friend of mine recently threw a party where we had the Dreamcast on in the living room. Most people politely tolerated the console's presence; they would come in, watch 5 minutes of a game, ask how old it was, and then leave.
But as soon as we switched to SoulCalibur, something changed. Everyone's passing curiosity turned into WWE arena levels of emotional investment. We passed the controllers around to would-be champions. We yelled. We cried. Complete strangers complimented my Lizardman's blocking ability. It was beautiful.
While I'd annoyingly argue that SoulCalibur II is the peak of the series, SoulCalibur (1?) remains one of the most transportive games on the Dreamcast. Sega's pitch of having the arcade at home feels fully crystalized when choosing your champion over the iconic orchestral character select theme.
While it's hard to remember the days when 3D fighters were being pitched as the next big thing, when you're playing SoulCalibur, that nostalgic excitement for a prospective future remains.
But as soon as we switched to SoulCalibur, something changed. Everyone's passing curiosity turned into WWE arena levels of emotional investment. We passed the controllers around to would-be champions. We yelled. We cried. Complete strangers complimented my Lizardman's blocking ability. It was beautiful.
While I'd annoyingly argue that SoulCalibur II is the peak of the series, SoulCalibur (1?) remains one of the most transportive games on the Dreamcast. Sega's pitch of having the arcade at home feels fully crystalized when choosing your champion over the iconic orchestral character select theme.
While it's hard to remember the days when 3D fighters were being pitched as the next big thing, when you're playing SoulCalibur, that nostalgic excitement for a prospective future remains.