The Oblivion Remake Should Resist Making One Obvious Change

There are few things more entertaining than the jank of The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. Don’t get me wrong; Oblivion was a watershed moment. It was the first RPG of its size that was approachable and readily available on console without compromise. It was an immersive, high-fantasy epic for wider audiences. It was and still is the blueprint for the modern action RPG the industry continues to obsess over.

But production values have made so much progress in video games that it’s hard not to chuckle at the cracks in the armor: the campy, melodramatic voice acting, the hilarious results when NPC pathing gets screwed up, the unpredictability of its complex physics. It created a unique blend of lovable jank that later Bethesda games, despite having their own glitches, mostly ironed out.

So as we inch closer to the definitely real remake of one of gaming’s most important titles, it’s left me wondering how developer Virtuos will approach this now crucial part of Oblivion’s legacy. Does it remove the charm of one of the most unintentionally funny games ever put to disc? Or does it clean it up for a definitive version that presents the game as players remember it?

There’s a no-brainer case for the latter. Oblivion is one hell of a world to live in, and the fond memories I have of venturing through Cyrodiil’s forests, hills, and caves as I fight beasts and join guilds are unmatched. It’s an experience I still hold up as the standard bearer of immersion nearly two decades later. I’m actually jealous of the players who will experience Oblivion for the first time in (presumably) glorious 4K.

Considering the next Elder Scrolls game, Skyrim, handily outsold Oblivion, the majority of those jumping into this remake will be doing so for the first time. Cleaning up its goofiness is the much wiser decision. I imagine that few newcomers will want to walk through the streets of the Imperial capital only to catch a friendly guard struggling with a door.

On the other hand, separating Oblivion from its many quirks could feel borderline unfaithful to the original experience. There’s a very specific way the camera zooms into the splotchy, moonpie faces of Oblivion’s NPCs that will always make me laugh. A remake provides the perfect opportunity to add a bit of variety to the game’s limited voice cast, but the stilted, children’s book-like delivery of the game’s lines have become iconic in a way that makes me love Oblivion all the more.

None of Oblivion’s eccentricities ever took away from it being fun. My days earning coin in the deadly Imperial arena and my time with the Thieves Guild are still vivid in my mind, and I look forward to seeing how first-time players react to their sinful descent into the Dark Brotherhood. I suspect these now-venerated moments will still hold up in the remake, as it all represents some of Bethesda’s finest work. However, the peculiar strangeness of Oblivion has only helped it stand the test of time. It’s a product of its era, and its funniest elements are practically a shared language among fans.

The tension between what would clearly serve this remake better and what I remember so fondly about the original will only apply to a fraction of the game’s audience. When production started on this remake years ago, Virtuos and Bethesda probably didn’t even consider keeping the jank. But in an era where films can make close to a billion dollars catering to the meme culture that’s corrupted the internet beyond recognition, there’s a genuine case for leaving those charming, ultimately superfluous shortcomings in.

I fully intend to play the Oblivion remake when it finally releases. Assuming it cleanly updates the groundbreaking original, it’s sure to be one of the year’s best RPGs. But if the fearless leader of the Fighters Guild isn’t inexplicably swinging his bow like a sword as if his life depends on it, part of me will wistfully mourn for the zany Oblivion I once knew.