Video games: the industry that out-earns cinema yet squeezes its customers

Video games: record revenues, record complaints

The video game industry moves more money than cinema, music and literature combined —according to the industry's own figures— yet gamers have never felt more ripped off. The business model has shifted from paying once for a finished product to a system of perpetual drip-feeding: 80-euro games + microtransactions + battle passes + DLC + content deliberately cut out. And patience is running out.

The kids' casino that AAA games have become

Prices have climbed from the 50-60 euros of the PS3 generation to today's 70-80, but the increase doesn't come alone. It arrives with a battery of microtransactions designed to maximize recurring spending. Many titles require a permanent connection, and when the servers shut down, the game —and everything paid for— disappears. This isn't a perception: it's the service model the big publishers (Activision, EA, Ubisoft) have invested in. The consequence: resounding flops like Suicide Squad, which tried to be a live-service game and crashed, while Helldivers 2 —an honest co-op with no trickery— is a smash hit. The market punishes greed, at least for now.

Indies vs. AAA: creativity against budget

Against the AAA machine, independent development remains the last stronghold of experimentation. Titles like Slay the Spire, Baba is You or The Age of Decadence prove that with a clear idea and no marketing committees, innovation is possible. But there's a catch too: indies lack the financial muscle to polish and scale, and when they try to emulate the big players, they lose their reason for being. The paradox is that the industry needs both worlds, but the money —and the attention— goes to those who abuse players' wallets the most.

Nintendo and the quiet lesson

While Sony accumulates criticism over a drift some call an "ideological agenda" and losses in its services division, Nintendo is approaching the all-time sales record with the Switch: 150 million units, on par with the PlayStation 2. And it does so without fanfare, with games that prioritize gameplay over monetization gimmicks. The conclusion analysts draw is blunt but effective: people aren't stupid, and they vote with their wallets.

An industry that can't stop

The global sales figures don't lie: in 2024 video games are still selling by the bucketload. The problem isn't demand, but the abuse of a model that squeezes every last drop of profit. With each spectacular failure (Suicide Squad, Babylon's Fall) and each unexpected success (Helldivers 2, Baldur's Gate 3), the message repeats: players want quality, not a casino. How many more stumbles does the industry need before it listens?