Crash Bandicoot is an icon,
and I’m not just saying that because Crash Bandicoot is sponsoring this video.
Although that, again, is what is happening.
The folks at Activision are publishing "Crash Bandicoot 4: It’s About Time."
And some might say it’s about time for me to make an Unraveled about this funky Australian… marsupial?
Is that what he is?
Look, in all honesty, I know very little about Crash.
What he is, what he does, why he’s orange.
And the reason for that is because the original Crash Bandicoot came out in 1996,
when I was two years old.
This little nerd was too busy trying to balance with a giant lightbulb for a head
to be able to play these games.
The pedantic among you might say, “Brian, why not just play the games now?
There’s an HD Remaster out.
I’ll send it to you.
What's your address?”
But that’s a cop out.
The original Crash Bandicoot trilogy was a crystallization of pure, unfiltered, late-’90s energy
that burned itself into the memories of those lucky enough to grow up with the games.
I did not grow up with these games.
I was born too late to Crash.
I have been robbed of the nostalgia so many lucky gamers feel.
And sadly, that nostalgia is impossible for me to obtain now.
JUST KIDDING, I HAVE SPONSOR MONEY!
NOTHING IS OUT OF MY REACH!
My hypothesis is that if I purchase all of the required food, decor, and technology available
in a 1996 to 1998 American household, I can essentially create a pocket dimension,
which will allow me to speedrun the late ‘90s, enhancing my enjoyment of Crash Bandicoot 4.
Today, I am changing the timeline of my life by playing Crash Bandicoot the way Crash intended.
I am opening a portal to the Crash dimension.
*exciting '90s dance music*
Wow, these titles are getting really convoluted!
By creating a perfect replica of the years 1996 through 1998,
I can spend one day in each year playing the temporally accurate Crash Bandicoot,
and within three days, I’ll be done.
Which is good, because Activision has me on a pretty tight turnaround for this video.
You might be wondering why I don’t spend some time on the other Crash Bandicoot games,
and my answer to that is…
What are you talking about?
This is Crash Bandicoot 4.
There’s only four Crash Bandicoot games.
*eerie music*
Making a pocket dimension within my living space might seem like a difficult task,
but in reality, developing an apartment-specific-multiverse only requires four simple considerations:
Electronics, Environment, Envelopment, and Anti-Anachronism. Or as it’s better known:
Eeeaa!
Electronics are the foundation. I need the tactile experience of plugging a PS1 into a CRT television.
I need to smell the instruction booklet.
I need to bask in the warm glow of the TV tubes,
and then spend 20 minutes trying to figure out which channel it’s coming through
before realizing that I plugged the yellow wire into the white component.
So I spent hours on eBay, compiling the necessary items to technologically travel back in time,
including era-appropriate recording equipment.
And that’s all I need in order to play a video game and make a video about it,
but it’s not enough to make a new dimension.
The environment in which these games were published was drastically different than our current reality,
and to experience the games correctly, I must live in that world.
I need the food, the fashion, the music, and I need to be fully immersed in it.
Envelopment. This means living in the Crash dimension
until I complete the original trilogy and the new game.
And what’s more, I must act the part.
I might have been two years old in 1996, but now, I have the chance to become a true ‘90s kid.
A character I’m calling “David Brian Gilbert.”
What's great about David Brian Gilbert is that he’s essentially me,
but with cool parents who let him have caffeinated drinks and watch R-rated movies.
I scoured the internet to find the food and decorations that I never got to enjoy as a child,
including this blow up chair and a frighteningly sun-bleached case of sour spray
that was probably purchased from a Blockbuster.
It says the expiration date is next year, so I’m probably fine!
As for clothing, I wanted David Brian Gilbert to follow fashion icons of the time period.
And who could be a better late ‘90s fashion icon than the Backstreet Boys’ Brian Littrell.
After downloading and printing out and examining a totally appropriate amount of reference photos,
I purchased those ‘fits for myself.
And when I say fits, I mean everything is two sizes too large.
And speaking of the Backstreet Boys,
I also purchased a few of their albums along with a CD player, a few 1990s history books,
and a VCR so I could finally experience a classic film my parents never let me watch:
Wild Wild West.
Because even when I’m not Crashing, I need to stay immersed in the high culture of that time period.
But there was a hiccup:
When Wild Wild West finally arrived, I realized that it was released in 1999.
Anti-anachronism. It is not enough to just purchase the required items.
I must also actively cut out all anachronistic content.
So while I would love to watch Wild Wild West and listen to the Backstreet Boys’ Millennium,
I cannot.
So I purchased a clear lock box that I labeled using Lisa Frank stationery,
and I will place all dimensionally inappropriate objects inside that box,
not to be opened until I complete my task.
To hold myself accountable, I also installed a surveillance camera which will make sure
I am maintaining a radical ‘90s lifestyle.
The only anachronistic content I can bring with me through the portal is a PS4, and Crash 4.
But even those must be played on the CRT television.
With my considerations considered, I began piecing together my pocket dimension
in the small space next to my desk.
And as the pièce de résistance, I asked Activision if they could send Crash Bandicoot to my house.
Sadly, they were a little confused at first.
They said that the Crash “suit” couldn’t fit into my small New York apartment, and
I explained, I don't want the suit, I just want Crash Bandicoot.
Uh, but, they said it just wasn’t gonna work out, so...
What’s the point of getting sponsored if I can’t slam a pouched juice with Crash Bandicoot?
With my build complete, I donned the first outfit from the Brian Littrell lookbook
and fully adopted the David Brian Gilbert persona.
“Sup dudes, you want to play… pogs?”
“No way, I love rollerblading!”
“Let’s get to the airport like 30 minutes before our flight.
Security shouldn’t be an issue.”
It was time for me to say goodbye to life as I knew it, and dive into the Crash dimension.
"WHOA!!!!!"
Basically feels the same.
I had made it through the portal, and after locking the anachronistic box,
I booted up Crash Bandicoot 1.
And I wish I could say I was “Set Adrift on Memory Bliss”
(that’s track number 8 on Backstreet’s Back)
but actually, I was having a bit of a difficult time adjusting to this new dimension.
My VHS camcorder didn’t have a functioning viewfinder, so I had to check my recordings
in the VCR every now and then.
And to make matters worse, the original Crash Bandicoot is actually kinda tough.
Whenever I'd get a little frustrated, I’d have to take a break,
crack open an ice cold box of toddler’s charcuterie,
and read some 1996 history while listening to the boys.
“Oh hey, they caught the Unabomber!”
I tried my best to enjoy every experience 1996 had to offer.
Tried.
"Ugh, thank you!"
"Oh."
"Okay, I figured we'd try a warhead. Here we go."
"Ohhhh."
"Ahhh."
*spraying sour spray* "Oh why did I do that?"
"Why did I think that would make it better?"
I learned very quickly that, while every ‘90s experience was different,
they were all defined by a singular in-your-faceness.
And though it was a shock to my system to jump in head first,
each turbulent mouthful of sour spray got me that much closer
to becoming the David Brian Gilbert Crash Bandicoot needed me to be.
"Yeah!"
You see, at first I was appalled at his brazen, extreme antics,
but by the time I could pop five lemon warheads into my mouth without making a face,
me and Crash were on the same wavelength.
"I am unstoppable!"
I blasted through the first game,
and when I dipped my toes into Crash Bandicoot 4, I realized my experiment was working.
Even on a 13-inch screen, I felt a blossoming kinship with these cool dudes.
After a quick dinner of what I can only assume was completely naturally colored cheese-and-peanut-butter crackers,
I tucked myself in on the city map rug and fell asleep under a canopy of glow in the dark stars.
My year in 1996 was complete.
I woke up in 1997, and honestly, it’s probably the best morning I’ve had in a long time.
I had no emails to respond to, no text messages,
and my morning routine only consisted of me pouring a heaping bowl of soon-to-be discontinued cereal.
"It's so good!"
Crash Bandicoot 2: Cortex Strikes Back went in much the same way as Crash 1,
but after spending a full day in this dimension, I was much better equipped to crush this game.
I ended up finishing it pretty quickly, and I took the late afternoon off
to check in on those Welsh Royals I had grown so fond of just the day prior.
"OH NO!"
Sadly, I was interrupted at one point in my day when my apartment buzzer rang, and I had to go sign for some mail...
Which I now realize I shouldn’t have done.
It was a blatant escape from my pocket dimension.
In the Crash Dimension, David Brian Gilbert shouldn’t be worried about paying bills,
or whatever this email is about.
Those are responsibilities for an adult, and therefore, anachronistic.
So with a quick alteration to my signage, I locked those responsibilities away,
and I went back to my gaming.
Considering I’d be finishing the Crash games the next day, I realized that I was spending
my final night in the ‘90s.
Just a few nights prior, I couldn’t imagine a life other than the one I had.
But this pocket dimension was so real, so accurate, that I could scarcely remember the realm I had left,
and the person I was before Crash Bandicoot.
And honestly, I liked David Brian Gilbert better.
I woke up in 1998, and I donned a Littrell outfit I’m calling “AJ Adjacent”.
I was reluctant to push on, but committed to my mission.
I was so acclimated to the extremes of this dimension that I had to flavor blast my breakfast
before jumping into Crash Bandicoot Warped.
And to be real with you, it was kind of a buzzkill.
NOT!
*RADICAL GUITAR SOLO* It was cooler than Leo’s middle part!
Could these graphics BE any better? As if!
"And my mom said I’d never get ANYWHERE with these games!"
But as I got closer to finishing Crash 3, I realized that my time in this perfect dimension
would soon be coming to an end.
I'd have to deal with the disappearance of Surge, and all-denim outfits going out of style,
and Y2K, and I'd have to go to high school, and college,
and I'd have to get a job, and pay rent, and I’d have to deal with all those bills,
and the emails from Activision asking me where I’ve gone,
and I’d have to deal with all-denim outfits coming BACK into style!
I just threw ‘em out!
But what if…
I never leave?
If you’ll recall, the rules of this nostalgia speedrun dictate that I must stay in the dimension
until I complete all four Crash Bandicoot games.
And I haven’t completed them yet.
And honestly, part of what makes Crash 4 so exciting for fans of the series
is that they had to wait 22 years for the next installment.
So it just makes sense for me to stay here for the same amount of time.
A nostalgia slowrun.
No no no, this isn’t nostalgia.
Maybe in 22 years, David Brian Gilbert would be nostalgic for this time, but right now,
David’s just having a wonderful day.
In fact, the only thing that wasn’t wonderful was that David had just run out of pizza bagels.
Luckily there were some Pizza Rolls in the freezer.
But this new pizza-made-portable-snacking-option was unknown territory.
I spent the past two years snacking on open-face pizza treats,
and now you want to put me in a pizza cage?
That’s a major change.
And what if it sucks?
I know that pizza bagels don’t suck.
So with another quick change to the box, I locked them away.
So I kept playing and replaying and replaying and replaying the games.
I listened to Backstreet’s Back on repeat and I warmed myself in the radiation of the lava lamp.
But I was running low on sustenance, and the amount of sour spray I was consuming
was having a detrimental effect on my pH levels.
At least I wouldn’t get scurvy.
Every now and then, I’d think about playing Crash Bandicoot 4.
But how could it ever live up to the experience of playing the first three games?
That’s a major change.
And what if it sucks?
I know that the first three games don’t suck.
I decided that I didn’t have to complete Crash 4.
Because if I completed Crash 4, I'd have to leave the Crash dimension.
I can’t go back to Brian David Gilbert!
He’s mega lame.
So I did the only thing that would save David Brian Gilbert.
I locked the game in the box.
*SLAM*
"Oh my god, Crash Bandicoot!"
"Yup. It’s me. Crash Bandicoot. And I’m here to help you with your video!"
"B-b-but they said you were busy! Here, have a pouched juice!"
"No time!"
"The only way I can help you is if you go stand in that corner with your eyes closed for about 30 minutes."
"Ha! Anything for you, Crash!"
Okay, Crash, it’s been thirty minutes!
I'm ready to see what...
*sad classical guitar music*
After reviewing the footage, I realized that when Crash Bandicoot said he was going to help with my video,
what he actually did was systematically disassemble my pocket dimension and disappear.
The only things he left were Crash 4 and the pizza rolls.
Crash had taken everything from me. My perfect youth, evaporated.
Now there was nothing but the cold hard truth of modernity.
Why would Crash do this?
Would Crash betray me?
Was he really willing to destroy David Brian Gilbert’s world
just to collect a contractually obligated sponsored video?
Or was he teaching me a valuable life lesson?
Crash had left me no choice but to face the future.
And so I sat on a non-inflatable couch and I played Crash Bandicoot 4.
And the game is just so much better on a screen that isn’t like 20 inches from your face.
I even cooked up those pizza rolls,
and it turns out that cheese and pepperoni and sauce and bread in any form is pretty frickin’ good.
Pizza Rolls might not be my beloved Pizza Bagels, and Crash 4 isn’t the original trilogy,
but sometimes a little twist on a thing I already love is totally fine.
The nostalgia cocoon I made with the Crash dimension was reassuring,
but it was also stagnating.
And I’m grateful that a good friend...
no, the best friend I've ever had in the whole world...
taught me to crash out of my comfort zone.
And as much as I wish that Crash Bandicoot would’ve hung out and watched Wild Wild West with me,
I’m sure that wherever he is, he’s putting all my stuff to good use.
*LOUD CLANKING*
Thanks Crash.
*happy '90s dance music*
*Eating a spoonful of French Toast Crunch with a Warhead in it*
"That might be the worst thing I've ever tasted."
"I've tasted a lot of bad things but that one might be the worst thing."