Games were getting too big, and floppies too unreliable. A 35-inch floppy could hold a megabyte and a half, and it wasn’t uncommon to get five or six of them for a game. Any one of them could be duff, making picking up a new game as much of a gamble as an investment. And even if they worked when you bought them, you never knew what might happen when u https://SlotsPalace.id https://dafabets.id https://1xbets.id https://Bk8bet.id https://tgcasino.id https://pokerist.id https://Cobrabet.id https://slotstemple.id https://bets365.id https://Betinasia.id you came back to it later.
CDs were a game-changer; literally. As well as giving developers more space than they could ever hope to fill – cough cough – they were seen as expensive enough to be pirate-proof; to the extent that the CD version of games would frequently remove the copy protection that forced floppy disk players to keep searching for keywords in manuals and other such tedious honesty checks.
The main push, however, came from games’ sudden obsession with production values. Freed of space constraints, and desperate to be Hollywood producers, orchestral audio, fully-spoken text, and those dreaded words Full Motion Video raced into the industry, and things haven’t been the same since. Interactive movies harnessed blue-screens and cheap actors to create some of the worst pieces of cinematic slurry in history.
Gameplay became a dirty word, with action turning almost entirely into multiple choice situations where two of the three options meant instant death, or bizarre ‘My First Funbook’ level puzzles, all wrapped in a desperate urge to be a horror epic (The 7th Guest) or Star Wars (Wing Commanders and 4), or simply gather souls for Satan (Plumbers Don’t Wear Ties). The number of genuinely good interactive movies can be counted on the fingers of two insulting hand gestures. Gabriel Knight 2,The Pandora Directive and Spycroft. That is all.