18 items
Every morning is Sunday, October 13, and every morning Henry has to make Lucy fall in love with him again. Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore's Hawaiian reunion gave 2004 the Good Morning Lucy tape, Ten-Second Tom, a walrus named Jocko and 311's reggae-tinged cover of The Cure, and left a trail of remakes from Telugu to Japanese.
Kratos, a Spartan warrior betrayed by Ares, tears through Greek myth with chained blades and rage. Santa Monica Studio's 2005 PS2 epic scored a 94, sold millions, and turned the quick-time finisher into an industry standard.
The Real Driving Simulator — and it meant it. Gran Turismo made PS1 owners grind license tests, obsess over gear ratios, and fall in love with a used Nissan they tuned into a monster. Suddenly a racing game wasn't about power-ups; it was about the cars.
Betamax vs. VHS, replayed for the HDTV age. Toshiba's HD DVD was cheaper; Sony's Blu-ray held more and came inside every PlayStation 3. Two years, one Warner Bros. press release, and it was over.
Sir Daniel Fortesque, a one-eyed, jawless skeleton hailed as the Hero of Gallowmere after dying to the first arrow of the battle, gets a second chance when the sorcerer he supposedly killed returns a hundred years later. Sony's 1998 PlayStation hack-and-slash looked like a Tim Burton Halloween special and let Dan rip off his own arm to club things with.
Sony's 1992 answer to the cassette: a recordable digital disc in a plastic shell that let you name tracks, shuffle them around and copy a CD without a hiss, and that played on through a bump thanks to a memory buffer. Japan bought it for twenty years. America shrugged.
John Hughes High, the slow clap, the makeover that takes off her glasses and ponytail, and conjoined twins for prom queen. The 2001 spoof put two decades of teen movies in a blender, cast Chris Evans as the jock, and led its soundtrack with Marilyn Manson's "Tainted Love."
A paper-thin dog raps his way through karate class, a driving test and a bathroom line to win over a flower-like girl named Sunny Funny — "Kick! Punch! It's all in the mind!" Sony's U.S. arm had a rule against 2D games and released it anyway, and it set the template for a whole genre.
The grey box that took gaming off the cartridge and onto the CD — and took it away from Nintendo and Sega while it was at it. Sony's first console arrived in Japan at the end of 1994 and in America the following September, and it made a generation fluent in memory cards, load screens, and demo discs. It started as a Nintendo project that Nintendo walked away from.
![Video thumbnail — Playstation 9 - 2000 PS2 Commercial [High Quality]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/NyvD_IC9QNw/maxresdefault.jpg)
The black rectangle that invaded living rooms worldwide as an affordable DVD player and happened to pack the best game library ever assembled. With over 155 million sold—the best-selling console of all time—the PlayStation 2 didn't just dominate gaming; it became the era's default home entertainment hub.
Before downloads, trying a game meant a silver disc: the sampler that came in the console box, PlayStation Underground in the mail, a Jampack from the store — or the legendary discs handed out with Pizza Hut orders in 1999. You played the same three demos a hundred times and loved every second.
Sony's widescreen handheld that made your backpack feel like contraband. The PSP played UMD games and movies, had actual graphics, and let you game or watch on the go—turning every school lunch period into a gaming session. It felt like the future until the future moved on.
Sixteen giants, one horse, no other enemies and barely any dialogue. Team Ico's October 2005 PlayStation 2 game sent Wander across an empty forbidden land to climb and kill colossi for a dead girl's sake, and every victory played like a funeral. It became the standard exhibit whenever anyone argued that games could be art.
A raccoon master thief, a turtle who does the planning, a hippo who drives the van, and a stolen book of family heist techniques to get back. Sly Cooper and the Thievius Raccoonus (September 2002) landed between Jak and Daxter and Ratchet & Clank to form the PlayStation 2's cartoon-platformer trinity, and did it in cel-shaded noir with a stealth rule of its own: one hit and you're out.
A $2,500 robot dog that learned, played, and had moods — and people loved theirs like family. Sony's AIBO was the actual future, briefly for sale — Japan's entire first batch sold out over the internet in twenty minutes.
The PlayStation car-combat game where drivers in armed vehicles hunt each other through Los Angeles for one wish from the mysterious Calypso, and a clown drives an ice cream truck called Sweet Tooth. It was conceived in a traffic jam on the 405.
Sony's cassette player made music something you carried: foam-pad headphones, a belt clip, and a pocketful of AA batteries it drained by the week. Born in 1979, it was such a default fact of 90s life that 'Walkman' had long since stopped meaning Sony and started meaning the whole idea.
A black box from Sony or Philips, a wireless keyboard on the couch, and the whole World Wide Web squeezed onto the living-room television at 33.6k. For $329 plus $19.95 a month, WebTV put Grandma online in 1996, and Microsoft paid $425 million for the idea.