I distinctly remember my first experience with Shenmue... it was not a good one. I was playing the much-anticipated game on my Dreamcast and was about two-thirds through the main story when my Virtual Memory Unit went kaput. The VMU was Sega’s proprietary memory device and the company touted it as the coolest thing since Sonic the Hedgehog popsicles. The plastic casing actually had a loophole so that hip kids could wear them around their neck as pendants. No one did this.

In addition to being a fashion dud, Sega’s VMUs were also rather unreliable, and when my VMU died unexpectedly, I lost all of my Shenmue progress. All those hours spent searching for sailors in seedy dive bars and taking fighting lessons from hobos... vanished in the blink of an eye. At that point I wanted to wrap a VMU around someone’s neck. Thankfully VMUs are out these days and cloud saves are in, so what better time to revisit a lost classic?

For those who weren’t gaming back in 1999, let me tell ya; Shenmue was a big deal. It was actually the most expensive video game ever produced at the time, reportedly costing in upwards of $70 million. The game took up three (count 'em, three!) discs and came with a bonus Passport disc that acted as a fan service kiosk. Years before Rockstar's Grand Theft Auto III came along and completely revolutionized the industry with its innovative open-world gameplay, Shenmue offered up a similar—although more linear and MUCH more honorable—experience. Players were mostly free to wander through a region of rural Japan, complete with day and night cycles, side quests, and a host of quirky-yet-charming NPCs. It's taken for granted that modern games deliver this experience, but in 1999 this was very special. As far as gaming experiences go, it felt like stepping into a different part of the globe.

Gameplay innovations aside, Shenmue is a thoroughly Japanese experience, and I’m not just talking about the Yokosuka setting. There is a popular style of narrative in anime and manga called slice-of-life, which focuses on life’s more subdued moments. This style dates back at least to the postwar era, when Japanese readers were starved for cheap, escapist entertainment that promoted a degree of normalcy. Unlike shonen manga, which features any number of superheroes rising to the occasion against the latest threat to our galaxy, a typical slice-of-life storyline may feature an emphasis on cooking, fishing, even daily school life. The concept seems anti-climactic, but the uniquely Japanese talent of elevating normal everyday functions into the melodramatic makes it work. Case in point, my current favorite manga, Way of the House Husband, which follows the comedic exploits of an ex-yakuza on his mission to become the best homemaker in Japan.

Slice-of-life is a massive part of Shenmue’s appeal. At the heart of the story is Ryo Hazuki’s bare-knuckled quest for revenge, but it’s the mundane encounters that gamers remember most fondly, be it feeding a stray kitten, helping an elderly lady locate a street address, chatting up patrons in arcades and dive bars, or dropping yen into a gashapon dispenser. A major portion of the story has Ryo working as a forklift operator, delivering crates to warehouses and picking up a paycheck at the end of the day. These ordinary instances may seem like uninteresting diversions, but it’s precisely these moments that give the game its distinctly quirky charm; Shenmue wouldn’t be Shenmue without them.

The game doesn't just encourage a slower, calmer pace, it literally enforces it. Checkpoints and events that are scheduled around an in-game clock, as a result you'll find yourself with time to kill as you wait for a shop to open or an NPC to show up at their home. Similarly, certain conversations are unskippable, so even if you're on your fifth playthrough you'll still have to sit through the same dialogue you've probably memorized by now. Shenmue may be a speedrunner's worst nightmare, but the snail's pace has its benefits. Because there's no need to sprint from Point A to Point B, players can simply roam the streets, taking in the sights and sounds. It also gives players plenty of time to interact with the interesting townsfolk, including Tom the hot dog vendor, Mark the shift foreman, and a possibly inebriated Santa who appears around a certain holiday. I've never bothered with the English dialog, but some of the Japanese voice acting is particularly corny by modern standards, especially the tough guy banter. But hey, it's all part of the Shenmue experience.

Sega has re-released Shenmue (along with its sequel, Shenmue II) for modern platforms, giving those who never owned a Dreamcast console the opportunity to play this landmark video game. The PS4 remastered edition leaves the original game mostly intact, and the result is a mixed bag. Graphically, Shenmue's visual updates are uneven and feel unfinished. For instance, the team smoothed out Ryo's facial texture but left his iconic bomber jacket a pixelated mess. The result is jarring, especially since that jacket is onscreen for the majority of the game. It's worth noting that the PC version (accompanied by some stunning texture mods) is vastly improved, to the point where—with the aid of numerous dedicated fans—it actually looks like a proper remaster.

Gameplay-wise, Shenmue still feels very much like a Y2K-era action game, which means finicky camera control and collision detection, QTEs, and a fighting system that plays out like a rough version of Virtua Fighter 2. The in-game fisticuffs are kept to a minimum so the brawling bit isn't too bad, but I do wish they'd put some effort into fixing the awkward camera and collision issues. In the gaming world, nothing screams "dated" like having to be perfectly aligned just to start a conversation, climb a flight of stairs or open a door.

I’m really glad I revisited Shenmue, warts and all. It’s rough in areas and hasn't aged well in others, but at the same time the game has lost absolutely none of its subtle slice-of-life charm. I definitely see myself coming back once a year to replay it. Spiritual successors include Sega's Yakuza and Judgment series, and while they are both brilliant franchises in their own right, neither reaches for the laid-back atmosphere of Yu Suzuki’s original open-world classic. It's not for everyone, particularly those who aren’t willing to strap on the nostalgia goggles to a certain degree. But if you're up for a cozy, slower-paced RPG that is regarded as one of the essential cornerstones of gaming history, Shenmue cannot be denied.

Note: The review was originally written for the PS4 version of Shenmue I.