Sequels Are Zombies.

The other day I picked up a copy of Dead Rising 2 for Xbox 360. I was excited for this release; I loved the first one. When it first came out in 2006, Dead Rising was an entertaining romp that attempted to explore just how many ways you could kill a zombie (my personal favorite: jamming a shower faucet into a zombie's head and watching the blood fountain everywhere). Since then, zombies have invaded popular culture from every angle: console and handheld games, movies, and TV (such as the new series The Walking Dead based on Robert Kirkman's comic book).

When I started up the sequel, déja vu flooded my mind almost immediately. Did I accidentally re-buy the original? The graphics, gameplay, and overall presentation felt identical to the first. I was disappointed. But why? I loved the original, it had provided so many hours of entertainment. What was wrong with more of the same?

Clearly the developers approached the game with a "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" mentality. If it was successful the first time, why completely overhaul it and risk failure? But though Dead Rising 2 carried over all of the things I loved about the first, it just didn't feel the same. I quickly grew tired of the gameplay mechanics I was already inherently familiar with. The Dead Rising series is not the only one guilty of repackaging a game, changing the setting, adding a new feature or two and calling it a sequel. There are a host of others. The Skate series. The newest Fallout. Halo.

What was it about the first iterations of these games that allowed them to attain so much popularity? The answer is simple. These games pushed the envelope. They were innovative. They set themselves apart from other games in the same genre by doing something different. It's what I loved so much about the first Dead Rising. Sure, there were many zombie games before it, but was I able to mow down the undead with a shopping cart in them? Could I level up? No, Capcom's game took the conventions of what a zombie game could be and turned them on their head. The games mentioned above did the same with their respective genres.

But with the success of these franchises, much like in other media, imitators appeared. In the years between sequels, many of the innovations of these games were lifted and put in other games. Eventually, it all felt a little too familiar.

By the time the follow-up was released, we had all gotten our full enjoyment out of the original games and their many imitators. So why bother play the same game again? The new features in Dead Rising 2 felt like something that would be put in an expansion pack rather than a sequel. In the four years between the two games, I had been exposed to all sorts of zombie-related media. I became a zombie aficionado without even trying. But because it was all so familiar, I couldn't enjoy it nearly as much as the original.

Don't get me wrong. I expect the fundamentals of the game to remain the same. I wouldn't want it to stray too far from its roots and risk eliminating what I loved in the first place. Dead Rising should always be about killing zombies in hilarious ways. There is, however, a healthy middle ground in between changing too much and changing too little. Take the Final Fantasy series. Each iteration maintains the core role-playing element. But with each sequel came a refreshed artistic style, overhauled gameplay system, and most importantly, a different feel from the last. There are plenty of other franchises that succeed in changing just enough to capture what was great about the original all while expanding and evolving it with new technology and innovation.

I hope that developers can continue to evolve their sequels beyond a carbon copy of the original. If there ends up being a Dead Rising 3, I'll pass. Unless they can really wow me. Until then, if I want to behead some zombies, I'll stick with the classic.