Rediscovering Adventure: A Fresh Look at the Remastered Tomb Raider 4-6

Egypt, a day like no other. A young woman navigates towards the Tomb of Seth, joined by a silent companion wielding a flickering torch. As the woman gathers health packs and dispatches scorpions resembling tiny lobsters, her companion diligently illuminates every chamber they pass through. When he moves rapidly, there’s a sense that something exciting is about to unfold—you can practically feel it. But when he pauses, you realize that you must perform a clever or daring action to set him in motion once more. That’s simply how it is.

At this moment—in the present day—there’s nothing particularly remarkable about this. When discussing post-Uncharted 2 action games, we anticipate these interludes, shifts in pace, and dramatic sequences. However, in Tomb Raider: The Last Revelation, I remember the impact of this moment vividly. Sure, Tomb Raider 3 ventured into similar territory to a degree, but when it comes to openings, The Last Revelation’s is particularly stunning.

I claim I recall the significance anyway. Somehow, over time, I began to overlook much of this. I ought to have, as it’s returning to me now, and the memories are so fresh, so untainted. Each few days, something sparks my recollection of the original Tomb Raider or Tomb Raider 2. They are part of the eternal framework through which I view video games generally. But the Tomb of Seth? The last time I ventured through this peculiar tomb was during a break in my final university year. In fact, when I recently struggled with a puzzle while playing it again earlier this week, searching for the solution transported me back to the equally perplexed person I had been in July 2001. All of this has been buried beneath the earth and sand for two decades. Now it’s liberated once more.

In other words, welcome to the latest of the Tomb Raider remasters, gathering the fourth, fifth, and sixth titles in the series, otherwise known as The Last Revelation, Chronicles, and The Angel of Darkness. Historically speaking—and considering that Lara Croft herself is now a mythological figure—I feel the consensus on these three titles can be summed up as: somewhat pretty decent, passable, and infamously dreadful. That, however, matters less than one might think. The remasters are just as heartfelt as those of the initial three games, and while the rewards for your efforts may not yield three timeless classics this time around, they present something arguably just as fascinating. Herein lie curiosities, partial or complete failures, and titles that were perilously on the brink of being forgotten.

Anyway! The remastering itself continues to work wonders. Once again, there are tank controls or updated controls for Lara, each acknowledging that, while the former might take a bit of adjusting, the latter never truly feels quite right. If you ask me, it’s because Lara has always operated within a grid in the Core games, and the new controls feel somewhat out of sync with that grid. There have been tweaks, however. I discovered it significantly easier to execute Lara’s signature sideways leap here with updated controls than in the first three games. At the very least, after some adjustments here and there, all three titles are completely playable, all while preserving that shiny, exotic feel of the-way-we-used-to-do-things.

Quickly checking off some features: photo mode returns, and you can easily switch between original graphics and updated visuals with the press of a button. I do this continually while playing, as I like to see how this or that statue appears now, or maybe how it looked back then. The updated graphics do an admirable job of refreshing each game while still appearing genuinely antique. Caveat: I am 46 at the time of writing, so I view the world through 46-year-old eyes—they do make things quite dark. I have spent most of my time tackling the games’ most challenging sections in the original graphics, partly because they lean towards light and color, and partly because PS1 graphics now seem utterly captivating—strange, ethereal, abstract, and magical.

(Moreover, the original Tomb Raiders crafted stunning elements with what they had, features that have yet to be surpassed. I feel The Last Revelation holds the definitive Tomb Raider framework, for instance—the very one from which Lara retrieves her backpack. It presents the definitive god rays and the definitive water. I want to appreciate that in its original form. I also want to mention that The Last Revelation includes a bonus stage that was distributed with The Times newspaper, and it’s as peculiar as it sounds.)

With that settled, I can move on to the most interesting aspect here. How have these games aged?

I will always stand up for The Last Revelation. I can still recall the excitement when it was first released. It wasn’t just the fourth game; it was the first Tomb Raider to spend the majority of its time in a single location—and that location was Egypt. That prospect remains truly incredible, in my view, and I still find it profoundly evocative and transporting.

Core Design succeeded in making its tombs appear fundamentally rudimentary right here. As always, I find myself feeling quite isolated and profoundly immersed as I engage with the game, yet there’s also that invigorating sensation of maneuvering through an expansive mechanism that the best levels of Tomb Raider provide. The Final Revelation consistently delivers this experience. What if I set this room ablaze? What if I filled this space with sand? What if I’m captivated by every ghastly thing?

Chronicles is significantly harder to appreciate, despite the undeniable fact that I will likely remember myself, back in late 2000, asserting it wasn’t that subpar. It’s not that weak, but it’s also not consistently outstanding. It feels, more than anything else, like the result of a talented team that has been engaged in the same routine for too long and probably deserves a break. Instead of being immersed in a single extended narrative like The Final Revelation, we encounter multiple versions of Lara throughout her career, pursuing various distinct treasures.

That’s not a bad idea in itself, but my recollection of Chronicles is of frequently getting stuck on something frustrating. A key would be left on the ground, and the surface would have a design making it difficult to recognize. A vent in the underwater level wouldn’t reveal itself as a pathway I could actually traverse, leading me to spend days aimlessly wandering back and forth, convinced the game was broken. There are numerous moments of sneaking around dressed in dark attire and avoiding lasers, which is exciting, but there’s also a significant amount of shooting. As a gamer from the year 2000, I feel compelled to point out: we already knew shooting was never Tomb Raider’s forte back then. We were all aware!

That said, I’ve enjoyed revisiting Chronicles more than I anticipated, even though it’s the one of the three games I’ve replayed the least so far. What I now appreciate about it is something I’ve always loved about Tomb Raider but found difficult to articulate. Take the opening levels, which I believe drop you into modern-day Rome. Yes, it’s Rome, with its alleyways and buildings, but although the development team is exploring contemporary settings, it hasn’t altered its level design approach at all.

To put it another way, wherever you may find yourself in the original Core Tomb Raiders, you are in a tomb. It might resemble contemporary Rome or Venice, or even an oil platform or a sunken vessel—God, I adore Tomb Raider 2—but it’s still a tomb. You can see the sky overhead, but: tomb. You will be collecting fuses and tinkering with ancient machinery, but: TOMB.

This is fascinating because it makes the games truly, genuinely unique. Rome is filled with alleys that lead nowhere and gardens that become mazes. There are no inhabitants except for the occasional disgruntled dog roaming the streets, and not much noise except for the glass you’re shattering to snag another health pack. A building might contain nothing but a single room with a switch, the activation of which opens a trapdoor in a different building. None of this is a complaint. I love it. Games simply do not feel like