There were over 4000 games released on the PS1. That’s a lot of games, but sadly, even today, many of them remain unknown to Western audiences because they were never released outside of Japan. Now, decades later, fans are trying to change that.
The following is excerpted from the book The Console Chronicles, by Lost In Cult. This chapter, Twilight Translations, was written by Brogan Chattin. The book is available for preorder now.
For English- speaking audiences, the Sony PlayStation had a robust catalogue that offered experiences which its competitors struggled to compete against. It had excellent multi-disc RPGs with epic stories and demanding memory usage that a Nintendo 64 couldn’t rival. It had goofy platformers featuring Gobbos or sentient primates, and high production horror masterpieces that pushed their genre forward.
Sean Seanson is a Youtuber that covers obscure games and regularly returns to
the PlayStation library. Sean’s channel has dozens of hours of PlayStation videos alone, and his enthusiasm for the console is essential to the identity of his work. It’s infectious, whether he’s talking about Incredible Crisis or Gamera 2000.
Sean explained why the system is so special to him, remarking that “the PlayStation’s library is almost like a bottomless pit of creativity and strange ideas.There are over 4,000 unique games released for the platform which is an absolutely incredible amount when you think about it. And considering how popular and influential this console is, there’s still so much that people don’t know about it.” That is due to myriad factors, such as marketing and business decisions which dissuaded localisation efforts and often kept exciting catalogue titles away from certain regions.
The relationship between cultural sensitivity and market forces become delicately intertwined when it comes to localising a game for the West. As a result, many PS1 games are almost impossible to play now, simply because they’ve never been translated. If director Bong Joon-Ho was right about film subtitles being an infamous one-inch barrier to a wider appreciation of that medium, the same is perhaps true of games — the effort of localising and then experiencing that video game might just be a mountain for devs and players alike.
For years, an independent translator named Hilltop has been working on translating Sony titles for the PlayStation and PlayStation 2. They are one of many in a community of modders who translate games that were never localised (and sometimes, some that were). The motivation to take on these sorts of projects often stems from a combination of personal ambition, time, and passion. “I’ve been gaming for as long as I can remember,” Hilltop said. “Most of my earliest memories are about me and my family huddled around an NES playing Mario. I didn’t start doing translations until I found myself unemployed and with a lot of spare time during COVID, though.”
For Hilltop, what’s most exciting is the opportunity to show people something they’ve never experienced before. “These works may have not found great success at the time, but here in 2023, these games look and feel fresh, and we have a chance to give them a second life by bringing them to a new audience.” Hilltop’s translations include some unique picks. Dr. Slump is an adaptation of an Akira Toriyama manga with beautiful texture work and animation similar to Mega Man Legends. Aconcagua is an impressive cinematic effort that combines adventure game elements with Resident Evil and Parasite Eve fixed-camera gameplay. Harmful Park is a fun take on the cute-’em-up genre mostly
represented in cultural memory by Parodius.
These games aren’t novelties, though. They represent a large part of the system’s true identity. Playing b.l.u.e. Legend of Water and hearing its music for the first time feels instantly familiar, in an uncanny sense. It’s a deep sea diving game that may not break any barriers, but instead advocates for beauty and aesthetics clearly, making it an essential PlayStation experience.
One particularly interesting translation in Hilltop's catalogue is Racing Lagoon. This game, published by Square, combines standard role-playing and street racing. Its style and gameplay influences has cultivated a community to this day with people sharing builds on Discord servers. "Racing Lagoon is an absolutely fantastic video game and unique like a gemstone. Yet it was absolutely hammered by reviewers at the time who simply didn't 'get it. They thought a racing RPG was pointless, 'why wouldn't you play Gran Turismo or Final Fantasy instead of this middle ground?' But now that people have finally tasted it, it's almost like a curse. It gave them an itch that nothing else can scratch - Final Fantasy and Gran Turismo simply don't have it," Hilltop said.
Stories of influence and innovation can be found elsewhere in the canon of translated games too. In 1994, FromSoft made the first King's Field game, an early ancestor to the now-juggernaut Soulsborne genre. This first title was never localised officially, but as of 2006 John David Osborne provided a translation for the PlayStation 1 classic. It's an essential first-person dungeon crawling title if not because of how good it is on its own - for the legacy it carried onwards. Similar translations of classic dungeon crawlers such as the PlayStation versions of Ultima Underworld (translated by Gertius) and Sting Entertainment's Baroque (translated by one Plissken) continue to be workshopped and released. These hard-working translators are adding more PlayStation games for you to experience, unbound by time.
This sort of work is largely a team effort even when a single person does the majority of the work themselves. Exporters, debug tools, and other programs are essential for many of these projects. Hilltop credits a single document by Policenauts translator Slowbeef as a tool that allowed him to understand the work required for the Dr. Slump project… which was a game full of proprietary encryption algorithms and a whole bunch of other words that make heads spin. Hilltop has also worked with Cargodin before, who translates games and song lyrics on his blog. From SnowyAria to people who have been in the practice for actual decades such as Esperknight there's a rich community of translation personalities. and a history of fan development to explore.
But why do so many dedicate themselves to the PlayStation? Why any console, for that matter? "Don't get me wrong, I love the PlayStation 1," Hilltop remarked, "I love its games, its music, its aesthetics, the creativity in its burgeoning 3D titles, but it's not cool to like PlayStation, you know? It's almost a given, since it's so ubiquitous. On the other side, you have a lot of people who exclusively work on Nintendo titles because of how much their games have meant to them, and because SNES hacking in particular is friendly territory for a hacker trying to break in".
Hilltop cites practical reasons for translating any console game. How many tools and retractable footsteps are there for newer hackers? Is there an audience? The latter is a foregone conclusion. People are eager for new experiences and have gone far in supporting Hilltop and other translators in their endeavours. They playtest on real hardware and provide consistent financial support or ongoing feedback. The internet facilitates direct connections between artists and their audience.
It's a two-way street for Hilltop. "Having an audience I can connect with has helped tremendously. The entire time I've been doing this, I actually did not possess any convenient means to play my translations on real PSI hardware. Being able to reach out for testers has helped keep the patches hardware compatible. And of course, it's incredible to see the vast amount of people who come to these games not just to play them, but to create content and share them on social media."
This showcase of passion is one of the best ways to communicate the importance of art and preservation. It's easier to care about a game when someone has poured their enthusiasm into it and brought it to you, rather than just stumbling upon said game in isolation. It's like making a playlist for your best friend.
Sean Seanson's Youtube work embodies this - Sean has both a passion to learn and a passion to show. "So much of what I know about video games is thanks to the great work of writers and video makers, who helped to educate me about the history and wider world of video games. So my videos are a way to both satisfy my own curiosity and have a creative way to help teach others about them, because I think there's a lot we can learn from some of these older games. If they help to inspire creatives or even just give somebody a fun new game to check out, then I feel like I'm at least doing my part."
Sean, and creators like him, become the gateway for many curious enthusiasts who want to learn more about games history, so perhaps creators also shape the future identity of a console too. "I think when you see how the elements of [PlayStation's] visuals and sound are still popular today (PSX-style horror, PSX D&B/Jungle mixes), its influence on people goes further than just the games. The PlayStation is a vibe, as the kids would say, and I think it's something that will continue to resonate with fans both old and new throughout the years," Sean said.
These voices also showcase the importance of the internet and less-than-official channels for wider cultural understanding. "[I'd] go to a video game store, or rental place, pick out a game and that was that," Sean explained. "Across certain parts of Europe, Asia, and South America, they were getting games from family members and markets and ending up with all sorts of strange games from across the globe. So games that are maybe quite obscure and unusual to a Western audience might end up being a well-known classic to the kids who got all their games from the local market."
When a console's identity is only defined by how its parent company advertises it, we become region-locked. We think of Kirby's furrowed brow when we think of the Pink Puffball in the States, but Kirby's demeanour is quite different in Japan. Developers and publishers often decide that elements of their catalogue aren't worth the financial risk in certain parts of the world, or they craft various marketing schemes that change design intent to fit their target audience. There are two forces that ultimately determine a console's identity: the marketing machine and the fans who want to play. Each is deeply informed by the other, but often the gaming industry strives to control the conversation.
These companies have a financial incentive to dictate the image of the past, or to forget it entirely. This is why community-driven preservation is essential. "Please consider playing [a fan translated game)," Hilltop said as our conversation concluded. "And consider supporting the people creating them. It is no easy task to create a fan translation and they are no lesser than any 'official' work. The pool of games that never left Japan are some of the most interesting relics of the era and absolutely deserve your time and attention."
When Sony released the PlayStation Classic as a retro revival product in 2018, the game list was wildly different depending on the region. The US PlayStation Classic included the original American release of Revelations: Persona, along with all of its questionable localisation choices. I think of that title when I look at Hilltop's disdain for the word 'official.’ How many official translations of Symphony of the Night exist now? Games are collaborative works, and a translation in any medium requires its own artistic liberties. A console or game's identity has to live beyond the purview of marketing, in the hands of people willing to have a conversation. The very book you're reading in your hands is part of the effort to have this ongoing conversation. Consoles may die in the eyes of their manufacturers, but we ensure that their twilight remains eternal.
