(SeaPRwire) –
By: Silas Sterling
Eidos didn’t care that Lara Croft’s creators cringed at “Game Babe of the Year” honors. Back in 2001, the publisher milked her sexual appeal for all it was worth. It let unofficial fan art circulate online, leaned into her form-hugging outfit in ads, and drew the line only when Playboy tried an unlicensed feature. Meanwhile, a Prima Games book dissected her “voluptuous breasts” and “luscious rear end” like they were game mechanics. The open-source gaming community split then—some praised Tomb Raider’s 3D adventure innovation, others showed up just for the eye candy. That summer’s movie would mark the apex of Lara’s meteoric rise as a cultural and sexual symbol.
2001 was a make-or-break year for gaming hardware. PlayStation 2 was already on shelves. Dreamcast was dead and buried. GameCube and Xbox would land by Christmas. Franchises had to pivot or fade. A year before Angelina Jolie strapped on dual pistols, Tomb Raider: Chronicles hit franchise lows in sales and reviews on old-gen consoles. The movie, released that summer, wasn’t even the year’s top archeology flick—that honor went to The Mummy Returns. But it raked in nearly $275 million and took 14th place at the domestic box office. It set a record for video game movies that wouldn’t be broken until 2010. The next entry, 2003’s Angel of Darkness, would flub the PS2 transition. It forced the series to switch developers and undergo its first major reinvention.
The Tomb Raider movie was a product of its chaotic time. It copied The Matrix’s slow-mo and edgy vibe. A shower scene was crammed in by the seven-minute mark. The soundtrack mixed Fatboy Slim, Missy Elliott, a U2 remix, and “Where’s Your Head At.” The plot was pure nonsense: Lara fought an evil robot, took on the Illuminati, and tried to stop them from seizing a time-travel artifact. She even dropped a “time storm” line like it was common knowledge. Roger Ebert called it too ridiculous to criticize. Most critics weren’t so kind. IGN slapped it with a zero, nitpicking every detail despite “Angelina’s Amazing Physics-defying Boobies.” Retroactive reviews now call it a passable flick from a questionable era.
Today, the franchise is shedding its old skin. After a gritty 2010s reboot, Amazon is overseeing a new TV series starring Sophie Turner and two games slated for 2027. Gaming communities don’t tolerate the old sexualized marketing anymore. EW won’t lead coverage with the star’s cup size. Ads won’t feature fans asking girlfriends to dress as Lara. An edgy U2 remix near any new product would spark immediate backlash. The community has spoken—Lara is an action star, not a marketing gimmick.
Gaming’s so-called maturity has stripped away the unapologetic absurdity of 2001’s Tomb Raider. But it’s also buried the exploitative tactics that reduced a groundbreaking character to a punchline. We’ll never get another bungee-fu sequence or a plot centered on a man-crushing orrery. And that’s the cynical truth: user sovereignty in gaming means trading chaotic charm for safe, sanitized content that doesn’t ruffle any feathers.
Author bio: Silas Sterling, veteran kernel contributor and editor-in-chief of an open-source security digest, covers gaming subculture and tech nostalgia.