Watch to play: the rise of the video game adaptation

“A complete waste of time and money,” said Roger Ebert of Super Mario Bros (1993). “A dreary, overstuffed hodgepodge of poorly edited martial arts sequences and often unintelligible dialogue,” said the New York Times of the following year’s adaptation of Capcom’s Street Fighter. The 1995 film version of tabloid-botherer Mortal Kombat fared only slightly better, with Gene Siskel calling it “the only half-way decent video game turned into a movie”. 

For decades this trio were held up as examples of everything that could go wrong when adapting a video game into a film, and it was Gene Siskel’s insightful comments on Super Mario Bros. that revealed what these early adaptations were missing. Siskel said the film was “boring compared to the urgency of a real video game where you’re under constant pressure of time and your quarters running out”. He suggested that narrative and characters are only part of a bigger story when it comes to an interactive medium. The essence of a video game is intangible if the audience has no opportunity to experience what it feels like to play.

Video game adaptations are in a very different place today. Sega, Nintendo and PlayStation have their own Marvel-style logos on the opening credits of multi-million dollar blockbusters. They proudly showcase their rich history not only as iconic game developers but also as the guardians of a bountiful back catalogue. Video game franchises are officially hot property, with almost every studio getting a piece of the action. A24 alone are producing Alex Garland’s vision of the epic Japanese role-playing game Elden Ring, alongside a big-screen version of Hideo Kojima’s genre-defying Death Stranding. Sega’s Sonic the Hedgehog series and Nintendo’s The Super Mario Bros. have made the companies millions by translating the breezy kinetic joy of platforming classics on to the big screen. A Minecraft Movie (2025) became a phenomenon infamous for sending its die-hard repeat audience into an uncontrollable frenzy in a way not seen since the heyday of The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975). 

Game stories have also been successfully translated to television. HBO’s The Last of Us (2023–) has won over 100 awards and has been praised for following the emotional arc of the game while keeping the core survival horror experience intact. Amazon’s adaptation of post-apocalyptic role-playing franchise Fallout has won plaudits from critics and fans of the game series alike for telling a fresh story in a recreation of the world that is authentic down to each individual bottle of Nuka-Cola. We might have finally reached the point where video game adaptations are no longer immediately dismissed as cash-grabs. 

Modern adaptations have succeeded where there has been failure in the past precisely because they have unashamedly embraced the source material. Super Mario doesn’t need a journey of redemption in a gritty cyberpunk world; Shigeru Miyamoto’s legendary game series radiates ceaseless innovation and infectious energy in lieu of a complex narrative. Hollywood has finally learned that when they fully integrate the feel of a game’s gameplay into a film or TV show it is possible to hit the jackpot.

Success hasn’t just been confined to blockbusters, though. In the indie sector Genki Kawamura’s Exit 8 (2025) – one of the first game adaptations to screen at the Cannes Film Festival – takes the looping gameplay of the viral horror hit and translates it into a liminal cinematic nightmare. Explicitly obeying the confusing rules of the original game (if you do not find any anomalies, do not turn back), the film traps the audience in the never-ending Tokyo subway tunnel in a way that perfectly replicates the claustrophobic feeling of playing the game. Apple’s exploration of the timeless puzzler Tetris takes a completely different route, exploring an exaggerated version of the international origins of the game. A film exploring the creation of a milestone in gaming can be a story worth telling in itself – just as the creation of a legendary film or classic piece of literature has inspired filmmakers for generations. 

Cult auteurs aren’t above tackling a strong video game story either, as Takashi Miike showed with his confidentially wacky film based on Capcom’s courtroom simulator, Ace Attorney. A common complaint levelled at video game movies is that they can feel like cosplay, but Miike dials the artifice up to maximum to give us a vision that embraces the charming absurdities of the source material while also delivering the jaw-dropping courtroom revelations and anime twists the game is beloved for.

The Asylum, the prolific, low-budget studio responsible for Top Gunner: Danger Zone, Immortal Combat and the Sharknado series, recently produced a short film based on downloadable content for Mintrocket’s indie gem Dave the Diver. Against all odds, the short captures the knockabout irreverent tone of the game while also injecting a healthy dose of the Asylum’s trademark computer-generated animal attack mayhem. This unlikely project is proof that there isn’t just one road to successfully adapting a video game in 2026.

Games have also proved to be valuable inspiration to projects beyond direct adaptations. Grand Theft Hamlet (2024) is a fascinating lockdown documentary made exclusively within the world of Grand Theft Auto Online, as a group of friends hatch a plan to perform the whole of Shakespeare’s Hamlet in the chaotic virtual city of Los Santos. Quentin Dupieux’s Le Vertige (2026) is a satire about a man who is convinced he is trapped in a simulation, a suspicion which may be proven correct, since the entire film is presented in the low-polygon graphical style of an early PlayStation 1 game.

Some of the best examples of films that recreate the feeling of playing a game are projects that aren’t based on an original game at all. Doug Liman’s Edge of Tomorrow (2014) borrows the fundamental video game mechanic of death and resurrection and fuses them with an enthusiastically generic plot that wouldn’t feel out of place in an Xbox 360 third-person shooter. The film successfully captures the ‘one more go’ feeling of trying to beat a troublesome level or boss fight, allowing the audience to share in the achievements and victories of the main character. Kenta Fukasaku’s berserk 2007 horror-mashup X-Cross injects a healthy dose of the character-switching-mechanics from Resident Evil 0 into a movie. You almost expect to be able to move the main characters in the film using a controller. X-Cross is arguably more authentic to the old-school survival horror experience than any officially released Silent Hill or Resident Evil adaptation. 

Resident Evil would seem like the perfect fit for the big screen, but it has messy baggage to contend with. Over 30 years the zombie horror classic has spawned sequels, comics, novels, live-action films, animated films, a TV series and even a musical stage play. Each new entry adds more lore to this complex web, meaning every adaptation for the screen (both big and small) has struggled in successfully translating the beloved yet bloated jumble of virtuous heroes, cackling villains and mutated monstrosities. The game series alone runs the gamut from claustrophobic Texas Chain Saw Massacre-inspired backwoods horror through to full-throttle action spectacle complete with collapsing skyscrapers and motorcycle chases. Where’s a director supposed to begin?

Weapons (2025) director Zach Cregger is the latest to wrestle with this conundrum. His Resident Evil film is due out in September, and for him it’s the tense survival horror gameplay that’s the dark heart of the series. “I have to go down this long dark passageway. I have two shotgun shells. I know there’s a lot of shit in there waiting for me, and it’s all really bad, but I have to go,” he has said.

His version tells an entirely new story based around Bryan, an average joe caught up in a pivotal moment from the game series – the outbreak of the T-virus in zombie-infested Raccoon City. His focus is on translating how it feels to play Resident Evil instead of recreating the story and lore already familiar to the gaming audience. He also understands that video games have a visual language distinct from film, and there is power in leaning into this. “I’m using video game language to always kind of be behind [Bryan] and swirling around and paying attention to what he’s paying attention to,” Cregger said. “Sometimes I jump to first-person, sometimes I use standard coverage if he’s having a conversation with someone. But I really wanted to embrace that immersive feel that I get when I play the games.”

There’s an absolute tidal wave of viable video-game-based film projects on the horizon. Nintendo’s The Legend of Zelda will finally hit the big screen next year, Amazon is looking to strike gold again with their series based on Sony’s brutal God of War franchise, and even Tetris is returning as an animated series in Tetris: World Builders. Then there’s upcoming adaptations of Streets of Rage, Broken Sword, Street Fighter, Sonic the Hedgehog 4, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, ToeJam & Earl, Sea of Thieves, and Tomb Raider. 

Does Alex Garland have any hope of turning the infamously obtuse and cryptic narrative of Elden Ring – a game where even friendly faces speak in riddles – into a mainstream film success? In 1996, chances would have been slim. In 2026, nothing is off the table.