Video games these days are lauded for their epic vistas, realistic character models, and movie-quality lighting. Technology has given visual fidelity the power to reach once-unimaginable heights, and graphical prowess is now a marketing tool in many studios' arsenals. However, some of the most fondly remembered and impactful games of all time were successful for reasons beyond their visuals, in some cases, despite them. One game, or rather, many of them, demonstrates quite emphatically that graphics aren't the be-all and end-all of gaming. What's important is design, creativity, and the feelings a game leaves in its wake.
Do Graphics Matter?
Nikita Kachanovsky on Unsplash
Better visuals are inherently more immersive. A realistic-looking world, filled with deep lighting and abundant detail, creates a natural tendency for players to feel more immersed within it. Modern engines can convincingly mimic the way sunlight pierces through fog, how particulates get whipped across a battlefield, or even detailed facial animations that help bridge that uncanny valley between NPC and friend. That level of polish can make a player feel present in a way older games can only hope for.
So players naturally expect this kind of constant graphical improvement, and they often equate graphics with quality. It’s a stigma that the industry itself only strengthens as they continually unlock new graphical bells and whistles with huge budgets every console generation. But gameplay, mechanics, narrative innovation, and player agency generally have a much larger effect on longevity; look at certain classics and you’ll see why.
Minecraft
Think of a global phenomenon that was made entirely of cubes: Minecraft. Childlike, low-resolution, blocky graphics that belie the complexity of its design. The freedom to explore a procedurally generated landscape, craft tools, construct buildings, and shape the environment to the player's wildest fantasies has resulted in an entirely new form of emergent gameplay.
It did not need fancy shaders or realistic textures to hook people. It needed freedom. It inspired players to build cities, functional computers, art, and stories, some of which have gone viral. Modders have taken the visuals far past the original game's aesthetics, but even in its roughest form, the game's experience is still engaging. This is because it is powerful in its systems, not its spectacle.
GTA
Long before massive open worlds, motion-captured performances, and Hollywood-caliber missions, there was a tiny top-down game that barely held itself together visually. That was GTA. Textures were muddy, perspectives were awkward, and some environmental details didn’t even map properly. But the gameplay was fast, chaotic, and shockingly fun.
Despite its crude presentation, the thrill of stealing cars, outrunning police, and causing mayhem made it unforgettable. That simple blueprint eventually evolved into one of the largest entertainment franchises on the planet. Its earliest form proves that even an empire can begin with something visually unimpressive but mechanically irresistible.
Undertale
Toby Fox and/or Temmie Chang on Wikimedia
Then there’s the emotionally gut-punching adventure told through deliberately retro pixel art: Undertale. The graphics recall old-school RPGs, with limited animations and sparse environments. It looks like a deliberate callback to the games of yesteryear. But hiding behind that façade is one of the most innovative morality systems in recent games, challenging boundaries by allowing players to choose empathy over violence, and holding them accountable for their decisions.
Its humor, music, branching endings, and philosophical undertones struck such a chord with players that it became a cultural phenomenon. It didn’t need cutting-edge visuals to make people cry, laugh, argue, or build entire communities around its characters. The art style sets the stage, but it’s the writing and mechanics that make it timeless.
