I wonder if it's really about the graphics though, or if it's more about the mystery of what's possible. Let's imagine something called the "possibility space", which is just roughly the set of things you can do in the game. Minecraft has a really large possibility space (build stuff, mine, survive, etc), Quake has a much smaller one (shoot things, navigate). Gameplay is largely about discovering what's possible, and then using that knowledge to achieve mastery over the system.
When you're young and you see a vista like that in ninja gaiden, you're intrigued by the possibility of what could be out there and what you can do with it. As you play, you discover the system, and in doing so, you also discover the limits of the system, and eventually as the space of possibilities becomes sharply defined, it eventually becomes uninteresting.
When you see a new game with prettier graphics, what the graphics imply is a new possibility space; a sense that more can happen here and the universe of possibilities is expanded.
The thing is, the graphics are secondary to what they imply about expanded gameplay. Graphics are feedback. Feedback is essential to gameplay, but it has to be evaluated in terms of a larger system.
I think this is largely why modern games seem a bit less magical than the old ones. They imply a lot of possibilities, but they rarely deliver; in fact, to support that level of graphics and polish they have to sharply reduce the space of what's possible. To display beautiful lighting you have to prerender a lot of it, or to show a greatly scripted cutscene you have to ensure that the player can't do something that would make that scene no longer make sense. But all of that reduces what the player can do, and how the world can respond to it.
It's not only the graphics. I am a few years older than the original poster and I very vividly remember the game that blew me away when I was (about) the same age: Thanatos.
This game was simply a masterpiece, in every way. For a 12 year old, it was an unbelievable experience. The graphics were amazing, the animation free-flowing and beautiful, the stage where the drama was unfolding an almost infinite, dark world and the music so much unlike anything else that my trusty Amstrad's little speaker has ever sounded. The whole game had an eerie atmosphere, like a dream. Even the gameplay had original elements: your dragon did not seem to have hit points or an energy bar. Instead, the faster its heart was beating, the closer it was to death. Yet, you never knew exactly how close. Just like real life, that was the point. Being Greek, even the name had an impressive, majestic quality to me: Thanatos (the dragon's name) means Death.
Thanatos managed to create a completely immersive experience (at least to a 12 year old) through graphics, animation, sound, story, atmosphere and gameplay elements.
> If a game is actually trying to create a breathtaking sense of presence, of “being really there,” then more believable graphics are certainly going to help.
Minecraft, DwarfFortress, any of the Roguelikes are counter examples.
Graphics are important. Really awful graphics could kill a game. But amazing graphics on a rubbish game ("Rise of the Robots") don't help.
The extreme drive for realism in game graphics have always put me off. My brain just doesn't work well with them it seems.
There is this uncanny valley thing where the scenery becomes so realistic that the very small incorrect details really start to jump out and become distracting. Sometimes even annoying to a point where I can't stand playing a game any longer.
It's strange really, but when a game goes for extreme realism, it feels as if my brain is expecting the game world to be a carbon copy of 'the great outside'. It's only in these situations that any tiny discrepancy really jumps out at you. This is not the case with art which is obviously stylized.
edit: What makes this even stranger is that I have very poor eyesight (congenital Glaucoma). I can't see the difference between DVD's of olden days and stuff made and displayed in 1020p HD. While this saves me from having to invest in preposterously expense TV's, it does give me a very skewed view of what 'realism' means.
I agree, and an interesting corollary is that as details increase, the apparent AI level decreases. The monsters in Doom (the original) felt more intelligent to me than opponents in modern games.
I guess it's similar to how the vision interpolates in the blind spot -- the brain is really good at making this information up if it's convinced it's being served low-resolution material. The ghosts in Pacman seem convincing because they move around more or less like you do.
I think your eye condition may exaggerate the effect. Even the most highly-realised modern games are still noticeably unrealistic, but we're certainly heading in that direction. As we get closer and closer to realism, I'm sure more and more people will start to experience what you describe.
I don't think Minecraft is a good example. Many users use modifications that create more "realistic" graphics and they feel they make the game even better. Minecraft's graphic style isn't terrible, but better graphics don't hurt the game. The assertion that "more believable graphics are certainly going to help" is absolutely correct.
Example: http://i.imgur.com/shM90.jpg vs stock Minecraft, most people much prefer the linked image and find it more immersive.
Yeah, I would say a certain internal consistency is more important than "realism" per se. Cartoons can be quite immersive, but I haven't seen a cartoony look in games pulled off at the level that animated films have reached.
I completely agree with your internal consistency assertion and would like to point out that there are always really standout games of each generation of hardware. The capabilities of the hardware are largely irrelevant compared to how well you utilize them.
Also, I would argue that most really successful games outside sports and racing games have unrealistic graphics. I think its actually stupidly limiting to try to use true to life models in your games.
.... I had a huge list here of games that I felt were beautiful that matched up with this aesthetic but really I just need to link one game. Limbo
Okami did; it was immersive and beautiful. Search for "okami screen shots" on Google images (the URL is longer than this sentence, including this parenthetical statement).
When you're young and you see a vista like that in ninja gaiden, you're intrigued by the possibility of what could be out there and what you can do with it. As you play, you discover the system, and in doing so, you also discover the limits of the system, and eventually as the space of possibilities becomes sharply defined, it eventually becomes uninteresting.
When you see a new game with prettier graphics, what the graphics imply is a new possibility space; a sense that more can happen here and the universe of possibilities is expanded.
The thing is, the graphics are secondary to what they imply about expanded gameplay. Graphics are feedback. Feedback is essential to gameplay, but it has to be evaluated in terms of a larger system.
I think this is largely why modern games seem a bit less magical than the old ones. They imply a lot of possibilities, but they rarely deliver; in fact, to support that level of graphics and polish they have to sharply reduce the space of what's possible. To display beautiful lighting you have to prerender a lot of it, or to show a greatly scripted cutscene you have to ensure that the player can't do something that would make that scene no longer make sense. But all of that reduces what the player can do, and how the world can respond to it.