I went and saw Star Trek into Darkness last weekend. (SPOILER ALERT! Do not read further if you haven’t seen the movie!) I thought it was great for a number of reasons, but the one that stood out the most was how well the original plot lines were reworked. The big picture stayed the same, but the details were nuanced and shuffled around. It wasn’t one of the ho-hum remakes that Hollywood has cranked out for the past 20 years. That got me thinking about all the rewrites we’ve had on D&D modules over the years.
Keep on the Borderlands was reworked a lot. Return to the Keep on the Borderlands was set in Greyhawk; it was revamped for 4E and set in the Nentir Vale; it was revamped again as playtest material for D&D Next. Considered one of the greatest adventures in D&D history (it ranked 7th), I found what it lacked in detail, it made up for in simplicity. I don’t think any of the rewrites necessarily improved upon the original, but your views may differ. Being an introductory module meant to showcase all the elements of roleplaying for new DMs and players is probably why it gets revisited so often.
Tomb of Horrors is another module reproduced over the years. First published in 1978, it was reworked in 1998 as Return to the Tomb of Horrors, then again in 2005, and then two different treatments were published in 2010. As the 3rd greatest adventure in D&D, it’s understandable that players would revisit it time and time again, as editions changed and rules evolved. While I own the rewrites, I’ve never had or played the original – my loss, I’m sure.
Pharoah, Oasis of the White Palm, and the Lost Tomb of Martek were combined into the supermodule Desert of Desolation, my personal favorite adventure, and the next on my list to convert to 4E after the Age of Worms adventure path. I personally did not care for the adventure to be set in the Forgotten Realms – I placed it in Greyhawk, where all my Prime Material campaigns take place – but I liked the expanded material and transitions from section to section. The recycled artwork was annoying, but the players were none the wiser for the lazy art department.
Steading of the Hill Giant Chief, the Glacial Rift of the Frost Giant Jarl, and Hall of the Fire Giant King were combined and reworked into Against the Giants: The Liberation of Geoff, which was an excellent supermodule. I loved that it was cemented in the Flanaess (Greyhawk), when so much other stuff had been shunted to the Forgotten Realms. Chris Perkins reworked the three adventures for 4E (and added a fourth!), and the results were admirable; you can check out Steading of the Hill Giant Chief, Warrens of the Stone Giant Thane, Glacial Rift of the Frost Giant Jarl, and Hall of the Fire Giant King online with a D&D Insider subscription.
The original G modules were also combined into the Queen of Spiders, strung into a massive campaign along with Descent into the Depths of the Earth, Shrine of the Kuo-Toa, Vault of the Drow, and Queen of the Demonweb Pits. Queen of Spiders was named the greatest module of all time, an affirmation with which I heartily agree. (Desert of Desolation is still my favorite, but the sheer magnitude of Queen of Spiders, the amount of ground covered in the adventure, the range of creatures, and the scope of work certainly qualify it for the title. I’m just more partial to Egyptian themes.)
There are other rewrites as well – Temple of Elemental Evil and Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Village of Hommlet for both 1E and 4E, and the list goes on. Why do we gamers keep recycling the same adventures over and over? Why don’t we leave the past in the past and focus on new and interesting stories, new adventures, and brand-spanking-new modules?
I think it’s the same reason that Hollywood recycles movies…there’s a new audience. NBC had a campaign for their reruns in 1997: “If you haven’t seen it, it’s new to you!” It’s true for gamers as well. Each new generation has their favorite adventures, and they hear the stories of the grognards proclaiming the divinity of the G series, or X1, or the S series. In many cases, it was almost impossible to find the originals. The fact that Wizards of the Coast (and TSR) kept their legacy alive by reworking them for future editions speaks to their appeal.
Of course, in most cases, the version you first experienced is probably your favorite. It’s the nature of the beast. I prefer Johnny Cash’s version of Hurt over the Nine Inch Nails original; I never heard of Nine Inch Nails until Cash’s remake hit the airwaves. I grew up listening to Banarama’s Venus, so I like it more than the original by Shocking Blue.
However, a remake can sometimes take you by surprise. Buffy the Vampire Slayer the movie was horrible; Buffy the television show was fantastic. Battlestar Galactica with Lorne Greene was great; Battlestar Galactica with Edward James Olmos was frakkin’ fantastic.
The same could be said for game editions. Each subsequent edition is a reworking of the previous one, and there are always those who proclaim the new edition inferior, a blight upon humanity, and an irremovable tarnish on the patina of the former game edition. I’ve never paid much attention to edition wars – each has its pluses and minuses, strengths and weaknesses, high points and low points. I try to enjoy each edition as an entity unto itself, an attitude I attempt to apply to other forms of media.
So that brings us back to Star Trek into Darkness. Do I consider it sacrilege? No. Do I consider it better than the original material? No. But nor do I consider it worse. It’s different, and it stands on its own. I appreciate that the writers paid homage to the original material but put enough twists and surprises in there to keep my attention from lagging. Some remakes (like Psycho) are too close to the original to stand on their own…and if something can’t be justified for its own merits, then it certainly can’t be a good interpretation of the original, whatever the intentions. Some remakes are too far afield to deserve to be called remakes (Hansel and Gretel, anyone?) That doesn’t make them bad, just poor examples of nostalgia marketing.
The purported goal of D&D Next is to appeal to all gamers of all generations and all editions. We all know it is destined to fail – you cannot be all things to all people. What D&D Next can be is a great edition of D&D on its own merits. It may have echoes of previous editions, nods to this class or that spell that grognards will recognize and discuss vociferously. But it cannot and will not be the messiah of D&D. It will be a new game. And I look forward to playing it.
Just like I looked forward to Star Trek into Darkness. You should go see it.
Keep on the Borderlands was reworked a lot. Return to the Keep on the Borderlands was set in Greyhawk; it was revamped for 4E and set in the Nentir Vale; it was revamped again as playtest material for D&D Next. Considered one of the greatest adventures in D&D history (it ranked 7th), I found what it lacked in detail, it made up for in simplicity. I don’t think any of the rewrites necessarily improved upon the original, but your views may differ. Being an introductory module meant to showcase all the elements of roleplaying for new DMs and players is probably why it gets revisited so often.
Tomb of Horrors is another module reproduced over the years. First published in 1978, it was reworked in 1998 as Return to the Tomb of Horrors, then again in 2005, and then two different treatments were published in 2010. As the 3rd greatest adventure in D&D, it’s understandable that players would revisit it time and time again, as editions changed and rules evolved. While I own the rewrites, I’ve never had or played the original – my loss, I’m sure.
Pharoah, Oasis of the White Palm, and the Lost Tomb of Martek were combined into the supermodule Desert of Desolation, my personal favorite adventure, and the next on my list to convert to 4E after the Age of Worms adventure path. I personally did not care for the adventure to be set in the Forgotten Realms – I placed it in Greyhawk, where all my Prime Material campaigns take place – but I liked the expanded material and transitions from section to section. The recycled artwork was annoying, but the players were none the wiser for the lazy art department.
Steading of the Hill Giant Chief, the Glacial Rift of the Frost Giant Jarl, and Hall of the Fire Giant King were combined and reworked into Against the Giants: The Liberation of Geoff, which was an excellent supermodule. I loved that it was cemented in the Flanaess (Greyhawk), when so much other stuff had been shunted to the Forgotten Realms. Chris Perkins reworked the three adventures for 4E (and added a fourth!), and the results were admirable; you can check out Steading of the Hill Giant Chief, Warrens of the Stone Giant Thane, Glacial Rift of the Frost Giant Jarl, and Hall of the Fire Giant King online with a D&D Insider subscription.
The original G modules were also combined into the Queen of Spiders, strung into a massive campaign along with Descent into the Depths of the Earth, Shrine of the Kuo-Toa, Vault of the Drow, and Queen of the Demonweb Pits. Queen of Spiders was named the greatest module of all time, an affirmation with which I heartily agree. (Desert of Desolation is still my favorite, but the sheer magnitude of Queen of Spiders, the amount of ground covered in the adventure, the range of creatures, and the scope of work certainly qualify it for the title. I’m just more partial to Egyptian themes.)
There are other rewrites as well – Temple of Elemental Evil and Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, Village of Hommlet for both 1E and 4E, and the list goes on. Why do we gamers keep recycling the same adventures over and over? Why don’t we leave the past in the past and focus on new and interesting stories, new adventures, and brand-spanking-new modules?
I think it’s the same reason that Hollywood recycles movies…there’s a new audience. NBC had a campaign for their reruns in 1997: “If you haven’t seen it, it’s new to you!” It’s true for gamers as well. Each new generation has their favorite adventures, and they hear the stories of the grognards proclaiming the divinity of the G series, or X1, or the S series. In many cases, it was almost impossible to find the originals. The fact that Wizards of the Coast (and TSR) kept their legacy alive by reworking them for future editions speaks to their appeal.
Of course, in most cases, the version you first experienced is probably your favorite. It’s the nature of the beast. I prefer Johnny Cash’s version of Hurt over the Nine Inch Nails original; I never heard of Nine Inch Nails until Cash’s remake hit the airwaves. I grew up listening to Banarama’s Venus, so I like it more than the original by Shocking Blue.
However, a remake can sometimes take you by surprise. Buffy the Vampire Slayer the movie was horrible; Buffy the television show was fantastic. Battlestar Galactica with Lorne Greene was great; Battlestar Galactica with Edward James Olmos was frakkin’ fantastic.
The same could be said for game editions. Each subsequent edition is a reworking of the previous one, and there are always those who proclaim the new edition inferior, a blight upon humanity, and an irremovable tarnish on the patina of the former game edition. I’ve never paid much attention to edition wars – each has its pluses and minuses, strengths and weaknesses, high points and low points. I try to enjoy each edition as an entity unto itself, an attitude I attempt to apply to other forms of media.
So that brings us back to Star Trek into Darkness. Do I consider it sacrilege? No. Do I consider it better than the original material? No. But nor do I consider it worse. It’s different, and it stands on its own. I appreciate that the writers paid homage to the original material but put enough twists and surprises in there to keep my attention from lagging. Some remakes (like Psycho) are too close to the original to stand on their own…and if something can’t be justified for its own merits, then it certainly can’t be a good interpretation of the original, whatever the intentions. Some remakes are too far afield to deserve to be called remakes (Hansel and Gretel, anyone?) That doesn’t make them bad, just poor examples of nostalgia marketing.
The purported goal of D&D Next is to appeal to all gamers of all generations and all editions. We all know it is destined to fail – you cannot be all things to all people. What D&D Next can be is a great edition of D&D on its own merits. It may have echoes of previous editions, nods to this class or that spell that grognards will recognize and discuss vociferously. But it cannot and will not be the messiah of D&D. It will be a new game. And I look forward to playing it.
Just like I looked forward to Star Trek into Darkness. You should go see it.
