Marcel Winatschek

Even Mario Has His Dark Days

You grow up assuming video game heroes have it figured out. Unlimited respawns, treasure in every chest, a clear objective and a map to guide you there. The whole structure of the medium is designed to make you feel like a protagonist—chosen, capable, moving forward. Nobody in a platformer stops mid-level to wonder what any of it means.

Artist Christopher Hemsworth punctures that with his Dear Inner Demons—Retro Video Game Edition print series, which imagines the psychic interior of Mario, Sonic, and company as something considerably darker than the gameplay suggests. A pixelated hero confessing exhaustion. A character frozen not by an enemy but by something internal and nameless. The joke lands because it’s not entirely a joke—there’s something genuinely melancholy in these read-outs of 8-bit anxiety that resonates in ways a print on a T-shirt probably shouldn’t.

The best ones take characters whose entire identities are forward motion—Sonic runs, Mario jumps, Link quests—and give them the one thing the games never allow: pause. The irony works. It also works as a piece of internet-era art that understands its audience: people who grew up with these characters and are now adults carrying their own unexplained weight. We projected onto them then. We project onto them differently now.