Or: How gaming lost its live magic — and why maybe, just maybe, we need both chaos and control. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not here to stab a knife in the back of the Directs, Showcases, and other pre-recorded events, but when one is at a wedding with coworkers, one might reminisce about a ‘better’ time.
Let me tell you a story. There was a time when June wasn’t just another month — it was gamer Christmas. We had the E3, and the E3 was loud, messy, unpredictable, and deeply human. From botched live demos to unscripted cheers that became memes, E3 made gaming feel like a global celebration. Now? We’re stuck in the age of controlled marketing feeds. Sleek, safe, heavily-edited Direct-style showcases that are technically flawless — and emotionally flat.
But maybe, just maybe, there’s more to the story. Let’s take a moment to be nostalgic with me (and my coworkers).
E3: The Beautiful Chaos
We loved it because it was chaotic. Cringe-worthy presenter banter, teleprompter failures, that guy screaming “PEGGLE TWO!” like it was the second coming — E3 was a show. It wasn’t just about trailers; it was about moments. The kind that spread like wildfire online, the kind that made gamers feel like they were part of something unpredictable and alive. And we were there for it. A few years before I joined the Gaming Boulevard crew, the guys would hunker down in the homes of our writers and cover E3 live from Belgium. It was magical, or at least, that’s how they want to remember it.
Fast forward to the year I joined. I lived in Belgium back then, but I never got around to joining one of the writing events, so I covered some of the material from my apartment in Leuven. Fast forward again to what would be the final year of the E3, and we got invited to go to America. We got the opportunity to cover the messy, meme-in-the-making, dream of our inner child, showcased in America. Spoiler alert: We couldn’t go because of COVID-19 and the cancellation of E3. What did we get in return? Showcases.
Pre-Recorded Events: The Polished Revolution
Let’s be honest — pre-recorded events didn’t take over by accident. They work. Direct-style showcases, such as Nintendo Directs or Sony’s State of Play, are easy to digest, globally accessible, and developer-friendly. No technical risks, no live-stage pressure, and everything runs on time (shocking, I know). They’ve also made room for smaller titles to shine. Indie World Showcases, for example, give the spotlight to games that would’ve been steamrolled at E3. You might not scream at your screen, but you do walk away with 3–5 new wishlist entries.
And when done right (like a particularly hype Nintendo Direct or a sleek PlayStation Showcase), they’re fast-paced hype machines that deliver. But sometimes the hype doesn’t match the coverage. Let’s talk Pokémon Presents from July 22—you know, “the world’s longest snack commercial for mobile apps.” It clocked in at a whopping 24 minutes and focused heavily on updates for Pokémon Friends, Go, Unite, Sleep… anything that isn’t available in the Netherlands due to our gambling laws (well, not all, but it stings).
And yes, we got some new footage for Pokémon Legends: Z‑A (Rogue Mega Evolutions, Mega Dragonite, day/night cycles in Lumiose City). But the meat—real new content—was minimal, nearly buried under mobile fluff. And that’s sad. I wanted to see more of the beauty that’s going to become Z-A. Heck, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had added a few more Pokémon games to the Nintendo Switch Online service. Where were Pokémon Colosseum and XD? It was the perfect moment to announce at least a date for these. The internet was quick to conclude that this Direct was ‘The dictionary definition of ‘this meeting could have been an email.’
That right there is the symptom. A slick livestream so content-less that even devoted fans called it pointless. It wasn’t live, it was a choreographed obedience drill—with a teaser trailer tossed in. So, what can we do to save this?
🇩🇪 Gamescom: The Middle Ground
Enter Gamescom — the giant that somehow flies under the radar. It’s the most significant physical games event in the world, and unlike E3, it’s open to the public. That alone creates an entirely different vibe — one of celebration, fandom, and direct access.
Want to play the demo of that game you just saw announced? At Gamescom, you probably can. Want to get a picture with a life-size mech from a game launching next year? That’s normal. It’s part convention, part playable museum, part madness. Even Geoff Keighley’s Opening Night Live, while polished, tries to recapture some of the E3 spirit. It features live audience reactions and real-time world premieres. And while it’s a bit safe (read: a few too many “world premiere” logos and not enough raw gameplay), it still feels like an event. You know something’s happening — right now.
It’s still pretty high on my list to visit it once my kids are a bit older. For now, I have to make do with the coverage that Lander provides us with each year. He’s always packed with meetings from back to back, and that is what keeps this website alive. We need those contacts and relationships so we can give back to those who, like us, appreciate the games and content we write about.
What We’ve Lost — and Gained
Sure, E3 had drama. But it also had soul. We’ve traded that in for efficiency — and lost some collective magic in the process. Still, credit where credit is due: the modern system makes gaming news more global, more accessible, and a whole lot easier to control.
Live vs. Pre-Recorded: Both Have Their Place
| Live Showcase (E3, Gamescom ONL) | Pre-Recorded (Directs, State of Play) |
|---|---|
| Real-time energy and shared moments | Polished, compact, globally timed |
| Gameplay risks and spontaneity | Dev-friendly, stress-free presentations |
| Community atmosphere | Better pacing, minimal filler |
| Room for unforgettable chaos | Ideal for smaller studios and Indies |
The Ideal Future: Hybrid Hype
So here’s the real pitch: give us the hybrid format. Keep the pre-recorded showcases for Indie highlights, seasonal updates, and short-form announcements. But bring back at least one tentpole event every year that’s live, messy, and chaotic. Let Gamescom level up. Let Summer Game Fest stop being a trailer playlist and start being a show. Let developers get back on stage and fumble their lines. Let the audience cheer when something surprises us.
Final Thought
Gaming is at its best when it’s human — imperfect, emotional, spontaneous. So while we appreciate the slick video packages and algorithm-friendly pacing, we still miss the crackle of something going off-script. The dream isn’t dead. It’s just been overproduced. And maybe this summer, we stop choosing between chaos and control — and demand both. And maybe, just maybe can iicon save some of that E3 magic as well.
