Miyamoto Is Right About Remakes, But He's Wrong About Why

I read the Famitsu interview. Miyamoto said the quiet part out loud, and then immediately covered it back up with a blanket labeled "for the children."

Here's what he actually said: Nintendo makes remakes because they work. Not because young players need to discover Ocarina of Time. Not because preservation matters. Because remakes sell, and they sell for the same reason rereleases of Super Mario 64 sold on the DS — adults will buy something familiar if you polish it enough.

I'm not mad about this. I'm just saying let's be honest about what's happening.

The real audience

Miyamoto's framing is that remakes introduce classic games to a new generation. That's true in the same way that putting a fresh coat of paint on a house introduces it to new neighbors. Technically accurate. Practically misleading.

The people buying Ocarina of Time on Switch 2 aren't ten-year-olds. They're thirty-year-olds who played it on the N64. They're people who want to feel something specific — the weight of the Master Sword in their hands, the moment Hyrule Field opens up, the sound of the ocarina notes lining up in the right order. They want that feeling again, and they'll pay sixty dollars for it.

And here's the thing: that's fine. That's a valid reason to buy a game. But let's not pretend it's about education.

Where Miyamoto is actually right

He's right that remakes serve a purpose beyond nostalgia. I'll give him that. When I played the Link's Awakening remake on Switch, I wasn't just revisiting a game I loved. I was seeing it through eyes that had played Dark Souls and Breath of the Wild. The design philosophy of the original hit differently. The limitations of the Game Boy hardware became visible — the way the screen scrolled in chunks, the way enemies appeared at specific trigger points. Younger me solved the puzzles. Older me saw the architecture.

That's real value. A good remake isn't a replacement. It's a conversation between the original developers and the current ones, with the player in the middle.

The unexpected connection

This is where it gets interesting. Nintendo's remake strategy reminds me of something else entirely — the way Capcom handled the Mega Man Legacy Collection. That collection didn't remake anything. It just put the original ROMs in a wrapper with save states and a museum mode. And it worked because Capcom understood something Nintendo sometimes forgets: preservation and remakes serve different needs.

A remake is a reinterpretation. A collection is a time capsule. Nintendo keeps making remakes because they want to own the interpretation. They want to control how you remember the game. Capcom just handed you the ROM and said "here, remember it yourself."

Both approaches are valid. But one of them is cheaper and more honest about what it's doing.

Who this is for

This remake debate is for people who have been playing long enough to have a memory worth remaking. If you started with Breath of the Wild and never touched an N64, Ocarina of Time on Switch 2 might genuinely be a new experience for you. That's great. You're the audience Miyamoto is talking about.

But if you're reading this and thinking "I already played that game twenty years ago and I'm still going to buy it," you're the audience Nintendo is actually serving. And that's okay. Just don't let them tell you it's altruism.

The bottom line

Remakes aren't the problem. The problem is pretending they're something they're not. Miyamoto wants to frame this as generosity. It's commerce. Good commerce, thoughtful commerce, commerce that respects its own history — but commerce nonetheless.

I'll keep buying them. I bought Link's Awakening. I'll buy Ocarina of Time. I know what I am. I just wish Nintendo would admit what they are too.