Atari 50: The Games They Couldn’t Include – The Definitive Review (Part Two)

Update – Summer of 2025: Atari is working out the kinks and getting some of the more complicated licenses into Atari 50 as DLC, but I’m leaving these features up. When I finally get around to doing the full Atari 50 Definitive Review of the retro games (the new games created for Atari 50 are reviewed here), I will redo all reviews in The Games They Couldn’t Include. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Welcome to Part Two of the ongoing Indie Gamer Chick Atari Saga! And it really is set to be a saga at this point. In addition to the massive 100+ game Atari 50: The Anniversary Celebration review, which will be posted this month to Indie Gamer Chick, it looks like I’m set to do at least six installments of The Games They Couldn’t Include for Atari 50. There’s a LOT of Atari history to cover, and I really have enjoyed this whole voyage through the history of the company who “Took Fun Seriously” long before I was born. Which, by the way, “We Take Fun Seriously” is a great slogan for a video game company. The Atari that exists today should bring it back. It’s wonderfully whimsical.

I might actually buy an Atari 5200 off eBay just to authentically experience the historic badness that is its controller. It looks fine, doesn’t it? But, nothing centers that joystick. You have to manually bring it back to the center. TOOPID!

Atari 50: The Games They Couldn’t Include is quite the endeavor. Part One contained the first thirty games. My review for the infamous E.T. for the Atari 2600 got so bloated I moved it to its own post. Part Two, which you’re reading now, contains a whopping fifty-two games for the Atari 2600, Atari 5200, and Atari 7800. These games are all titles that would require some kind of licensing agreement to include in a collection like Atari 50. While I wish the rights holders to these titles would tip their hats to gaming’s past and grant the modern Atari a reasonably cheap license without any strings attached, let’s face it.. it’s not happening. There’s so many games for those vintage Atari consoles that there’s no way I could ever hope to review them all. In selecting the lineups for The Games They Couldn’t Include, I wanted to choose notable games, some of which have odd, amusing, or even frustrating histories behind them. A few of these were never released at all, and others are ones you might never have heard of. I hadn’t. Not until I started this project. I have a pool of over ninety Atari 2600/5200/7800 games left to create The Games They Couldn’t Include Parts Three & Four from, which I’ll leave in a comment below. If there’s a game missing I haven’t done yet that you want to see me review in part three of four, leave a comment! No, I’m not reviewing that one game that rhymes with Mustard’s Stonehenge. Not happening.

I’m still leaving out Activision, as I fully expect the Activision Anthology franchise to return in the near future. That’s also why I left games by Imagic, the other big Atari third-party, out of the mix. Activision owns all their work. As for modern “homebrew” games, (1) I hate that name, so instead I’ll be calling them Indies on Atari and (2) I will be doing them as a separate feature at some point in 2023. I did choose many third party games this time around. In addition to the works of Atari themselves, you’ll be seeing games by Coleco, Parker Bros., Mattel, Xonox, Spectravision, Data Age, and Fox Games in this feature! In Part Three, even more third parties will be covered. My dear friend, the great Al Nilsen, made a wonderful suggestion that I totally agree with: cover as many games by individual designers as possible. So many of these games were led by unknown designers, but by golly, I’m going to try to get in a game by every known classic Atari designer.

“Where are all the Lynx games?” Part Five will be entirely licensed Atari Lynx games. “‘Jaguar?” I might not do Jaguar as much, but I promise I’ll do at least one game for it eventually. You can probably guess which one. “What about the Atari 8 Bit computers?” Coming, but, if I did the Atari 5200 version, I don’t really see the point in doing the 400/800 ports. For anything that doesn’t include, I haven’t figured out when, but I’ll do them at some point.

Before we get to the reviews, I want to once again give a shout out to three websites who provided such incredible information for this project: Atari Age, AtariMania, and AtariProtos. Without them, this wouldn’t have been anywhere near as fun. And, I also want to thank the entire Atari community. Gaming has a reputation for gatekeeping, but honestly, the Atari community has never once made me feel like a party crasher. I’ve even made a few new friends from this project. While I’m not going to enjoy all your childhood favorites, I’m not hunting these games for sport. I’m only asking whether or not games hold up TODAY, in 2023, without any historic context. Maybe not, but there’s dozens of people who have the nostalgia goggles on when they write reviews. Someone ought to ask “are they still fun today?” I can’t review YOUR nostalgia. I wasn’t even born yet when these consoles were released. But, I do respect what these games meant to you, even if I might lightly tease you over them. Yea, a few people have taken my dislike of their favorites too personally, but they’re outliers. The Atari community has been amazing, and from the bottom of my heart: THANK YOU! You all helped make this so much fun! I’ve had a blast! Let’s do a hundred more! ON WITH THE REVIEWS!

GAME REVIEWS

For those not familiar with my way of thinking of how retro games should be reviewed, I take NO historical context into account. I don’t care how important a game was to the industry, because that doesn’t make a game worth playing today. The test of time is the cruelest test of all, but every video game must face it. I might not be here if not for Pong’s success, but I wouldn’t want to play it today. Not when there’s better options. Therefore, when I review retro games, every game gets either a YES! or a NO!

YES! means the game is still fun and has actual gameplay value when played today and is worth seeking out.

NO! means the game didn’t age gracefully and is not worth seeking out, and certainly not worth spending money on.

Adventures of TRON
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Hal Finney
Published by Mattel

Either Atari or AtGames co-owns the rights to all the games from Mattel I’m showing here. I’m not entirely sure who, but M Network games have shown up in collections before.

Tron is yet another property that Warner Bros. executives were shell shocked they let slip through their fingers. It’s the same situation as Donkey Kong: Disney wanted to work with Atari and said “just match Mattel’s offer. Not beat the offer. Just match it!” Ray Kassar refused, because they wanted something like a $2 royalty per unit. We’ll never know what Atari would have done, but Mattel put out a pair of games for their Intellivision, then loosely ported them to the Atari 2600. Adventures of Tron is one of the most simple games on the VCS. You start at the bottom of the screen and must hop over enemies and zig-zag your way up elevators. The object is to jump up and grab the items that float above your head. The only challenge comes from not allowing you to keep riding an elevator upward. You can only go up one floor before you have to cross the screen to get to the other elevator, forcing you to leap over baddies. Maybe it was a big deal back when jumping was new in games, but this aged badly. It’s not that hard. Besides having some of the sprites look similar to the film, this has nothing at all to do with TRON, and captures NOTHING from the movie. It’s a really dull concept that has no longevity. WAIT, I take back what I just said. It perfectly captures the TRON viewing experience.
Verdict: NO!

Hey hey! One review down and I didn’t even need multiple paragraphs! Take that, Part One!

Alien
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Doug Neubauer
Published by Fox Video Games

You know the famous story about how Steven Spielberg wondered why E.T. couldn’t be like Pac-Man? I wonder if Fox Video Games caught wind of that story and this is a “shots fired” situation?

Yes, this is based on the movie. Don’t those aliens in the picture above look just like xenomorphs? No? Nothing like them at all? Well, I suppose it’s the thought that counts. Alien really is just a fairly generic maze-chase. It’s not completely shoehorning the Alien IP onto an unrelated game. You can tell because, occasionally, you’ll get a flamethrower, just like in the flick! You can’t actually kill the aliens with it, though. In fact, all it seems to do is make them wiggle back and forth for one second before they resume chasing you. The only scenario I can imagine where it’s useful is if you’re committed to one direction and an enemy goes to cut-you-off. You can spray it with the fire to buy yourself enough time to turn around. In theory, at least. Such a situation never came up. I even tried to deliberately set-up the circumstances for it, and I actually couldn’t, or at least never in a way where the flamethrower was useful at all. It’s kind of remarkable. A flamethrower.. the coolest use of fire on God’s green Earth.. made completely worthless. How is that even possible, short of arming a security guard at a firework factory with one?

After each maze is cleared, there’s a Frogger-like cross-the-road bonus game that, once or twice, I beat without having to pause for even a second to watch for traffic. What a bizarre use of the Alien license.

So, what you’re left with is a completely generic Pac-Man knock-off, albeit one that has the movie poster for Alien stuck to the cartridge. It even sounds just like the arcade Pac-Man when you’re not collecting the dots. That idle WUUU-WUUU-WUUU sound? Yea, that’s really here! Weird. But, despite the complete soullessness of all this, and despite having the single most worthless weapon I’ve seen in a video game, it’s actually not a bad little Pac-Man wannabe. As always, the chase matters most, and here, you can adjust the difficulty to make the aliens more aggressive. There’s only three aliens chasing you, but it works great with the design of the maze, which has a hidden elegance to it. I like how the exits (another element stolen shamelessly from Pac-Man) stick out from the wall, so if you’re grabbing the dots in the corner, you actually have to do so with enough room to shimmy to the side if you want to utilize them. Alien has one of the better mazes the genre saw on the Atari 2600. The power pellets.. yes, those are here too, and yes, they work just like in Pac-Man.. only appear one at a time in pseudo-random spots, but that works in service to the chase. When I turned-up the difficulty, I found Alien to be a perfectly decent, if not outright good, version of Pac-Man that has been historically trounced because it’s a Pac-Man knock off that uses the Alien license but features aliens that look nothing like Alien’s alien. Who cares? The game’s fun. That’s all I ever cared about.
Verdict: YES!

Burgertime
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Ron Surratt
Published by Mattel

Mattel could make pretty generic, lifeless Atari 2600 games. But when they put in the effort, they did pretty good.

If there’s one game from the Golden Age that consistently confounds me, it’s Burgertime. It sure seems like something I should love, since it’s such a layered game.. no pun intended. It’s a maze chase that thrives on close-calls and near misses, which is that sweet spot I crave so much. Additionally, no maze chase incorporates the “turn the tables” style of gameplay into the actual pursuit better. The closer you keep the enemies to you, the more likely you are to take them out when you drop the burger parts. I should LOVE Burgertime, but I never have. I don’t hate it or anything, either. It’s just never been one of my favorite games. After multiple attempts across multiple platforms, I’m still waiting to play one where I don’t spend most of the play session frustrated by the movement physics. It’s those damn ladders. No matter which port I play, I’m constantly getting hung-up on them. So, it’s not like the Atari 2600 version is uniquely problematic.

Although the slow movement makes it feel like a Burgertime that takes place waist-deep in invisible quicksand, it’s unquestionably a well-done port.

In fact, I honestly was stunned by how well Burgertime on the VCS plays. I’ve never heard anyone bring it up, possibly because it’s an M Network game, but this is genuinely one of the best arcade ports I’ve played on the console. Sure, it’s ugly and the enemies mostly look like squares chasing you, but there’s no question this is authentically Burgertime. It’s an impressive effort that carries over all the mechanics that matter. Dropping the stacks into enemies? Here and works. Salting enemies to run past them? Here and works. It’s slow, but Burgertime was never fast-paced to begin with. The ladders are still the bane of my existence, but I honestly dealt with them better here than I did in other versions. Huh. You know what? Burgertime 2600 proves that Mattel didn’t half-ass their Atari efforts in order to make their own Intellivision look good. I might not be the biggest Burgertime fan, but I don’t hate it either. In fact, I’m genuinely happy for Atari fans that they had access to such a shockingly accurate port of a beloved coin-op that, on the surface, seems like it would be too complex for the platform. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.
Verdict: YES!

Carnival
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Steve Kitchen
Published by Coleco

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I consider Carnival to be the very best gallery shooter that was released in the wake of Space Invaders. Well, the arcade version, at least. Coleco snatched-up the rights to it, and one of these days, I’ll get around to doing Colecovision: The Definitive Review. But, the Atari 2600 port isn’t too shabby. Sure, the pipes are a lot harder to hit (how is that even possible?) and the B-O-N-U-S letters are missing, as is the bonus round between stages. Oh, and only one duck attacks at a time, which really nerfs the difficulty. I wasn’t sure if the game had been reduced to just pinging targets, but there are still some tiny little details in this one. For example, the more moving targets you shoot before you hit the pipes, the more ducks appear. The pipes themselves don’t break one piece at a time like in the arcade, making it essentially one big target that takes damage. There’s still a twist attached to it: it changes colors, and you get a bonus for shooting it when it’s the same color twice in a row. And.. actually that seems to be it as far as the idiosyncrasies of the game go. Carnival is still an okay port, except for when the targets just randomly speed up (I couldn’t figure out what was causing that), the intensity is almost completely lost. Oddly enough, a game that I felt was THE Space Invaders killer in arcades is actually slain by the Atari 2600 Space Invaders port, which has more options, and is just straight-up better effort. Carnival’s options are “one player or two?” Still fun? Yea, but I actually had to think about it, and I wasn’t expecting that. Carnival 2600 is like a nutritious food that has all the nutrients deep-fried out of it.
Verdict: YES!

Chase the Chuck Wagon
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Mike Schwartz
Published by Spectravision

If you want to test the credibility of someone talking about the Video Game Crash of 1983, see if they cite Chase the Chuck Wagon as one of the examples of why the bottom fell out. The way some “journalists” make it out to be, consumers saw a game designed to advertise.. I swear to God I’m not making this up.. Purina’s Chuck Wagon branded dog food, and said “this video game stuff is getting lame. Let’s buy something else instead.” In reality, it’s not even possible consumers saw Chase the Chuck Wagon on store shelves at all. You had to buy a 25lb bag of Chuck Wagon dog food, then clip the UPC and include a check for $12.95 to get it via mail order. This might not be the worst idea, either. You see, dog food is famously one of the hardest products to market, so, in theory, creating a promotion based around a low-cost video game tied directly to a specific kind of food is a savvy way to get children to pester their parents to switch from Alpo or Kibbles & Bits (note that changing diets like that is unhealthy for dogs). Like most Atari games sold through mail order only (including many Atari-published titles such as Quadrun or SwordQuest: Water World), this is one of the rarest games on the VCS. It’s rated an 8 out of 10 by Atari Age. I wasn’t sure what this meant, but according to my collecting friends, it means the game is so exceptionally rare that, excluding online sources like eBay, a person who actively travels around to garage sales, second hand stores such as Goodwill or Salvation Army, or flea markets would be lucky to find any 8-out-of-10 game even once, even after decades of searching.

Not all games that were mail-order were rare. Kool-Aid Man (reviewed below) was a mail-order game too, but it could also be bought in stores. This couldn’t be.

So, it’s weird that this is held up as this canary in the video game coalmine. Games have always been used for marketing. Chase the Chuck Wagon didn’t start it, and the practice continued to long after the crash, whether it was for Domino’s Pizza or Skittles or McDonalds or 7 Up. Chase the Chuck Wagon just so happens to make a convenient scapegoat, because it’s a terrible game nobody in their right minds would defend. A simple maze chase with one of the most brain dead AI pursuers. The biggest challenge of Chase is getting hung-up on walls as you try to fit yourself through narrow passages and turn corners. There’s also an object that ricochets around the level, and if you touch it, you freeze in place for a few moments. Sometimes it might pass over you multiple times, but since the AI chaser seems to mirror your moves, it poses almost no threat to you. Some of the mazes are so easy that you wonder if this was really meant to be the first video game created to be played by dogs, but my little deaf fur-friend, Kunoichi, would find this too stupid and simple. How did THIS become the “gaming is out of hand” mascot? Sure, that it exists at all is such an obviously soulless, arbitrary promotional tactic that it makes for a great villain. I don’t get it. It’s rare, but not as rare as game collectors make it out to be. Bad, but not so bad that it contributed in any way to the evaporation of the game market. Chase the Chuck Wagon should be a non-entity historically. Instead, it lives in infamy. Its notoriety comes entirely from being a game based on a dog food commercial that was released as the market was collapsing around it. The poster child for all of gaming’s ills during this era, even if almost nobody owned it or even knew about it. No game deserves to be less infamous. Said the girl who just gave it two paragraphs of coverage.
Verdict: NO!

Crazy Climber
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Alex Leavens

I want to play as the people trying to knock the guy off the building. It seems like that would be more fun. Also, I might be evil.

Hey, speaking of rare games that could only be purchased through mail order, Crazy Climber is a “holy grail” for many Atari collectors. The object is simple: climb a building by pumping the controller up and down. It’s nowhere near as complicated as the arcade game, where you had to move your arms independently of each-other with a dual joystick layout. Here, you just have to move up and down. Hypothetically, it works, and the challenge comes from avoiding the various stuff that’s thrown down at you, along with watching to make sure the windows aren’t slammed on your fingers. So what’s the problem? Well, the whole point of the arcade original is lost completely with this new control scheme. The coin-op’s controls have a sharp learning curve that’s really the whole basis for the gameplay. It’s a game that challenges you to get used to a very difficult-to-master setup. Take that away, and you have a really boring, lifeless game. Even the parts where you have to wait for a window to open so you can proceed are made worse here, because you don’t ever have to think about what movements are required next. I don’t like Crazy Climber’s arcade version either, but I totally get why Atari decided against a wide release for this. I have no clue why they didn’t utilize a dual-stick layout, like Raiders of the Lost Ark proved the Atari 2600 could handle.
Verdict: NO!

Dig Dug
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Doug Macrae

Mechanically impressive, and yet totally wrong.

Like many of General Computer’s Atari 2600 efforts, Dig Dug is actually impressive, given the limitations. If you were a fan of the coin-op and had an Atari 2600, you were in luck. I mean, look at this! Sure, the dragons look more like obese toads and it’s nowhere near as satisfying to burst the enemies. There’s no death sprite, so enemies just vanish when you explode them. But, it’s still Dig Dug. It even does the bit where if you stand right next to a teeny-tiny sliver of wall, your hose can pass through to the gap on the other side, just like in the arcade. So, what’s the problem? Well, Dig Dug 2600 is a completely toothless experience. It took me a while to figure out why. I had to keep swapping back and forth between the arcade and VCS versions. I believe the game is nerfed because, on Atari, enemies have fewer frames of inflation. The Atari 2600 version only has two, while Dig Dug Arcade has three (four counting the final explosion) so when you attack, enemies can die much faster. That one extra frame means it doesn’t matter if enemies gang-up, because you can still kill them much faster, even without the multiple-pump trick. Plus, they’re not aggressive enough, and the only adjustable difficulty is to make the game even easier with the kid’s mode. It’s always better for a game to be too easy instead of too hard, but Dig Dug 2600’s total lack of tension and challenge makes it a bore.
Verdict: NO!

Dig Dug
Platform: Atari 5200
Year: 1983

$600 for a marginal graphical upgrade and an analog stick that doesn’t self-center. Imagine playing ANY PlayStation, Xbox, or Switch game with an analog stick that you had to manually hold in the center yourself. Well, that’s the entire Atari 5200 experience. Thankfully, that’s a non-issue for us whippersnappers on an emulator. A reminder to you purists that my generation has it better than you did.

I have to take time to remind myself that the Atari 5200 was, adjusted for inflation, more expensive than today’s consoles. Was it worth being that? Not at all. Most of the games are really ugly, but not in that charming Atari 2600 kind of way. Most also have this spooky slowness to them, like a recently deceased zombie where the decay hasn’t quite started setting-in. Dig Dug is right there with them. It looks better than the 2600 version, but it’s not even close to arcade accurate. The graphics are still pretty ugly, with different sprites missing from the act of blowing-up enemies. The timing is better, but Dig Dug 5200 is missing nuances. The “hose goes through a sliver of the wall” thing is here, but it doesn’t work consistently. In fact, I couldn’t figure out why it worked sometimes, but not every time. It seemed to have nothing to do with distance from the wall. It was weird. So was the “quick burst method” where, again, sometimes it worked and I could quickly explode enemies, and sometimes I couldn’t. It usually worked if I was walking towards the enemies, but it wasn’t a guarantee. Dig Dug is so oddly inconsistent that I often questioned how much testing it got.

Well, at least the exploded enemies don’t just vanish from the screen, I guess.

Actually, the only element of Dig Dug 5200 that was ever-present was poor play control. Even with my PlayStation 5 controller’s D-Pad (which was my primary controller for all the games in this feature), this was a miserable experience. Cornering was brutal. Turning around was worse. I lost most of my lives when I was trying to scratch-out distance between me and the enemies and instead watched in horror as I steered right into the bastards. My heart aches for those sad sacks who had an actual Atari 5200 and had to play this thing with THAT controller. That non-self-centering analog pad that seems like it was a plot to make children lose interest in video games. I’ve noticed that a lot of Atari 5200 games have similar “changing directions is a pain in the butt” control issues. If not for friends of mine assuring me these problems are still present on authentic hardware, I’d have sworn they were some kind of bizarre attempt to compensate for the controller that ironically ruined the experience for those using an emulator. That obviously isn’t the case. Dig Dug 5200 has other little issues, like the Fygars not giving any flashing warning before they fire upon you, and the enemies seemingly gravitating towards the top of the playfield until the “too much time” warning sounds. An improvement over the Atari 2600 version? Sure. Fun? Not really. Even with the audio-visual upgrades, the charm is still gone. In fact, I think this is about as soulless and unlikable as Dig Dug gets.
Verdict: NO!

Dig Dug
Platform: Atari 7800
Year: 1986

I think this was the most enemies I’ve ever dropped a single bolder on in any Dig Dug. I literally cheered!

I learned a valuable lesson during this chapter of The Games They Couldn’t Include: a little Dig Dug goes a LONG way. This was the final review I wrote for Part Two. Well, it would have been, except I forgot to include Frogger 5200, and since fifty-one games was a lame number to end on, I added one more in Carnival 2600. But, I intended for this to be the last game, because by time I reached this point, I was Dig Dugged out. I almost wish I had done the games in reverse order, because Dig Dug 7800 was a really decent experience. While it decidedly looks off, with pixels that seem to bleed into each-other, it plays just like the arcade game. The timing is right. The amount of frames enemies need before bursting is right. The only thing off is the sound. In case you didn’t know, the Atari 7800 uses the exact same sound technology the Atari 2600 did. So, yep, Dig Dug 7800 literally uses all the same sound effects as the 2600 version, along with that annoying “dolololodolododolo” movement music that sounds more like a canary in its death rattle. BUT, if you had an Atari 7800 instead of an NES (which didn’t get Dig Dug in the United States.. only the much crappier Dig Dug 2), you were in luck! You got yourself a pretty good port of a game that’s fun. In small doses, at least.
Verdict: YES!

Donkey Kong
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Garry Kitchen
Published by Coleco

Garry will kill me for this, but I’m going to reveal the dark secret of Donkey Kong 2600: he actually took a bribe under-the-table from General Mills to add subliminal advertising for Cookie Crisp cereal. WAS IT WORTH YOUR SOUL, GARRY?

Okay, so I might have made the Cookie Crisp story up, but making up stories about Donkey Kong for the Atari 2600 seems to be the order of the day. The long-standing urban legend is that Garry Kitchen was under strict orders from his bosses at Coleco to make a less-than-quality Donkey Kong game in order to make the more authentic Colecovision DK pack-in more desirable. This legend actually evolved from a prior legend about the Intellivision port being sandbagged. Neither is true. Now, in the interest of full disclosure: Garry is one of my favorite people and a good friend, but that doesn’t factor into this review at all, as I’m sure you’ll guess from what my verdict is. But, having gotten to know Garry and learn about what went into the making of Donkey Kong, he has my sympathy. This is a historically villainized port, and I don’t think it deserves to be that. While sympathetic gamers of all stripes bend over backwards to excuse E.T. on the grounds of having an unreasonable production deadline, Donkey Kong 2600 (as well as Donkey Kong on the INTV) had deadlines straight out of a nightmare too. And, given the circumstances, I think it’s impressive that the final product doesn’t feel like a cheap bootleg of the advertised game, like Atari’s Pac-Man did.

I think the hammer lasts too long in the second level, especially since you can’t let go of it, nor do the enemies respawn. You’re just stuck there, doing nothing, waiting FOREVER for the thing to disappear. If you’re interested in more about the history of these games, head over to the Video Game Historian’s feature on these titles.

Not that such a distinction helps it survive the test of time. I wouldn’t want to play Donkey Kong 2600 today. Well, except as part of a project like this one. Although it does an admirable job of feeling Donkey Kong-ish, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the original game to begin with. The two stages are also stripped down in terms of challenge. Garry’s biggest struggle was getting the stages to slant downward so that the game would be authentic, but that didn’t leave time for Garry to program the items into the rivet stage. There’s no fireballs in the first stage, and enemies don’t respawn in the second or climb up the ladders. Speaking of which, I was constantly getting stuck on the ladders, even using a modern controller. Do I think Donkey Kong is a lot better than anyone gives it credit for? Yep. It has some of the better jumping mechanics on the Atari 2600. But Donkey Kong was meant to be an at-home solution for Atari 2600 owners in 1982, and not something that would retain gameplay value for forty years.
Verdict: NO!

Donkey Kong
Platform: Atari 7800
Year: 1988

Legit question here: what exactly is keeping the left side of the structure up? If I removed all the rivets from that side, shouldn’t I have collapsed Donkey Kong? It should have been.. like.. a slide. A really big slide. Well, then again, Pauline seems to be on a platform that’s floating in air.

Had the Atari 7800 launched in the Fall of 1984, like the plan had been, Atari would have had a hell of a crowing point with Donkey Kong. It looks and plays better than any previous port.. that was released in North America. By this point, the Famicom had hit Japan, and along with it, Donkey Kong. Or, rather 75% of Donkey Kong. The cement factory, AKA the pie factory, is missing from that version. Guess what? It’s gone here as well. It was also missing from the Colecovision version. Imagine being a Donkey Kong purist and buying every new console DK showed up on, excited that THIS TIME FOR SURE you’re getting all four levels, but it doesn’t happen. Hell, Nintendo themselves did it TWICE with Donkey Kong and then with Donkey Kong Classics, which packed Donkey Kong and Donkey Kong Jr. together. Apparently the cement factory was axed to save space on cartridges. Which doesn’t explain why Nintendo keeps re-releasing versions of Donkey Kong that don’t have it. STOP IT!!

I’m hardly an expert at this game, but this ain’t a bad version of it or anything, assuming you really like Donkey Kong and don’t mind playing 75% of it. One thing I did notice was that, even on expert mode, only one of the springs came out one at a time. In the arcades, they come out in continuous streams after a few cycles.

As for the Atari 7800 version, well, it’s fine, honestly. And missing 25% of the game SORRY I’M NOT LETTING THAT GO! It’s not even that good a level, but neither are the swimming stages in Super Mario Bros. Yet, it would be weird if they were cut for space, wouldn’t it? But seriously, this is a perfectly decent port of Donkey Kong. Oh, it sounds terrible, like all Atari 7800 games do. I mean, that noise that Mario’s walking makes is grating as all hell. It could replace Jim Carrey’s “want to hear the most annoying sound in the world?” bit from Dumb & Dumber and nobody would notice. But, if you mute the game, it’s fine. Of course, this didn’t come out in 1984. It came out in 1986, after the NES. If your family could only afford the Atari 7800 and you were a huge Donkey Kong fan, you weren’t totally screwed, even if it doesn’t look exactly like the arcade version. I’m not entirely sure such a kid existed (and judging by the 7800’s sales, they didn’t), as by that point, they probably all wanted Super Mario Bros. and Donkey Kong was yesterday’s news. I’m sure Donkey Kong was groundbreaking in 1981. 1986 was just a bad time to launch this. Too old to be relevant. Too young to be nostalgic. And if you were nostalgic, there was a better option you could get just by saving an extra $30 or so and springing for an NES. In 2023, I’m not recommending it, as I don’t think it holds up to the test of time. Don’t take it personally, Atari fans. The arcade version got a NO! as well, and the NES version will eventually.
Verdict: NO!

Donkey Kong Junior
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Harley H. Puthuff Jr.
Published by Coleco

The Game & Watch did a much better job. That’s saying something.

Junior’s VCS conversion is one of the worst on the Atari 2600. Yes, this is another example of an unreasonable time crunch, but unlike Garry Kitchen’s Donkey Kong, this one does feel like a knock-off instead of an officially-sanctioned port. The vine climbing mechanics seem close enough at first. Climb faster when holding two vines at once, then slide down a vine faster using only one vine. Great! It’s there! Well, in the first stage. In the second stage, apparently they forgot to program in the “move faster going down on one vine” part. Also, there’s no fruit, meaning no way to kill enemies, meaning this is purely an avoider-type game. It would be like doing the original Donkey Kong without the hammer. You HAVE to have that in the game, or it’s not Donkey Kong. And you have to have the fruit, or it’s not DK Jr. Even the Game & Watch had them, but this doesn’t? Are you kidding me?

This is the third level, and I think they made it as such because it’s broken. You can’t move all the way over to the wall, but the game is also really fickle about where you can let go of the vines.

There’s lots of weirdness too, like enemies will just end up stuck in place on the floor and you have to wait for them to vanish to move. The game is anal about getting off the vines, and on the third stage especially, it becomes nearly unplayable as a result of it. The second level is probably the best, since it retains the “push the keys into the lock” gameplay of the arcade game, albeit with only three keys to score. That’s assuming you don’t get immediately spawn-killed by a bird that is literally right there to kill you as soon as you press the button to begin. Ultimately, this is Donkey Kong Jr. with all potential for fun removed, and it doesn’t even have that typical Atari 2600 charm taking its place. Donkey Kong had charm. This feels like a game that can’t believe it exists.
Verdict: NO!

Donkey Kong Junior
Platform: Atari 7800
Year: 1988

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Wait.. how come Donkey Kong is always missing a level but Donkey Kong Jr. isn’t? Hardly seems fair, not that I’m complaining or anything. All four levels are present here, and if you’re a huge fan of the arcade game, they seem to be pretty accurate. Much like the arcade game, I’m THIS CLOSE to recommending Donkey Kong Jr. for the Atari 7800. And, much like the arcade game, I’m ultimately not. I’ve always found Donkey Kong Jr. to feel too limited and not offer enough flexibility. Despite the fact that I don’t really like it and I just get really bored quickly playing it, I’d actually love to see this specific gameplay expanded. Make a game with Donkey Kong Jr., with the vine and fruit mechanics, but make the levels bigger than the screen. I really think there’s a potentially great game inside there. Yea, some of Donkey Kong for the Game Boy’s levels were like that. Well, I rest my case, really. That’s a great game! I reviewed it, and despite being shooting-gorillas-in-a-barrel levels of easy, it’s a very enjoyable game. Meanwhile, this 7800 port does have weird-feeling jumping, but since you almost never use that, it doesn’t take long to get used to it. Everything I said about Donkey Kong 7800 could apply to DK Jr. Whatever advantage it would have offered Atari in 1984 was gone by 1986, but this is the better game, at least. Despite having awful sound, this is just a slightly uglier version of Donkey Kong Jr. For better and for worse.
Verdict: NO!

Dumbo’s Flying Circus
Platform: Atari 2600
Unreleased Prototype
Designed by Peter Niday

Eh, still didn’t butcher the movie as bad as Tim Burton did.

Created as part of the Atari-Disney partnership, Dumbo’s Flying Circus is a 100% completed prototype that never was released. It wasn’t the only Disney game that got canned, as completed (or close enough) prototypes exist based on Donald Duck and Snow White, along with a Goofy Sports game for the Atari 5200. Sometimes, I’m completely floored when I play an unreleased Atari game. Take Saboteur, which I love. But, in the case of Dumbo’s Flying Circus, it’s not hard to see why it never saw the light of day. Like the other Disney games (see Sorcerer’s Apprentice from Part One) Dumbo was meant to be marketed to little kids. What kind of game is it? A simple flying game where you have to maneuver agilely, collecting balloons, shooting bombs, and catching clowns. Every balloon you miss lowers the ceiling more and more, until you have no room left to maneuver. Hey, that actually sounds like a great game for small children! A nice, simple concept to ease young ones into video games. So, how does Dumbo control? Heavy. Sluggish. Unresponsive. Inconsistent, too. Sometimes it feels like turning around takes longer than other times. When clowns rise up from the bottom of the screen, you’re supposed to shoot the balloon THEN swoop down and catch them, but they didn’t make a game designed with tight turning controls. You can collect the balloons manually, but you can also shoot them with (presumably) peanuts fired out of your trunk. Also, you can’t just collect the balloons that carry the clowns. But you don’t have precise controls and the targets are relatively small.

Come to think of it: the lowering of the ceiling bit is weird too. You have LIVES. That should be the fail condition. Presumably the lowering ceiling was to prevent kids from lasting forever. Oh trust me, in a game like this, they won’t last very long at all.

I guess the thought process with creating the movement physics and wet-cement-like play control was “well, it’s an elephant. It should be hard to control!” #1: That’s stupid. #2: It’s a baby elephant. #3: THAT’S THE JOKE! Elephants can’t fly! They’re big and slow! That’s why it’s a fantasy! And hey, wait.. doesn’t Dumbo fly gracefully in the film? (checks) HE DID! So then, what exactly was the inspiration for having him fly like a shopping cart with wings.. that uh.. lost its wings? Good lord, and I thought Bugs Bunny was a dumb idea in part one. A few cancelled Atari 2600 games are good enough to break your heart. This one warmed my heart. A reminder that, despite being the console that birthed Pac-Man 2600 and E.T., Atari DID have quality control at one point. I mean, not so much that a game this obviously bad wasn’t smothered in the crib, but at least it never was actually released. It shows even Atari wasn’t so soulless that they’d put this in stores and allow parents to think THIS was a quality children’s game. Dumbo is dumb, yo.
Verdict: NO!

Elevator Action
Platform: Atari 2600
Unfinished Prototype
Designed by Dan Hitchens

When I started this project, I told myself “no incomplete prototypes.” But, what was already done with Elevator Action was so impressive I just had to talk about it.

At only 75% complete, Elevator Action is the least finished prototype I will cover for Atari 50: The Games They Couldn’t Include. While it’s highly playable, it’s buggy as hell and has no sound or music. The jumping isn’t complete, in the sense that the game hasn’t created the actual physics for it, so as long as you hold up, you don’t come down when you jump. If you time this right, you can fly horizontally. But, if you show self-restraint, you can ignore this ability, since it was going to be coded-out of the final game anyway. What’s left is potentially one of THE great Atari 2600 arcade ports. It’s actually remarkable how this plays like the Elevator Action, which I’ve always enjoyed to begin with. All the personality is retained, and the charm too. WOW! Okay, so you don’t have to walk through doors to grab the briefcases, but hey, close enough!

This is as far as I made it. AtariProtos.com insists the elevators will eventually come to this floor, but I waited fifteen minutes and they never showed up.

It’s hard to criticize an unfinished project since you can’t know 100% for sure what the final product would have looked like. Presumably the elevators themselves would have been fixed. I’m almost certain I’ve previously tried this prototype and never even got to start the game because the first elevator never went up high enough to get me, and the two sessions I attempted here never had the elevators come and get me on the ninth floor. So I’m not rendering a verdict on Elevator Action. This is more about how I wish stuff like this COULD be included in collections like Atari 50. Do you know how many prototypes of games that were never released, finished or otherwise, are out there? Go look at the list for just the Atari 2600! It’s a lot. I wish everybody could have legal access to them. Not only them, but access to unfinished prototypes of games that did release. The educational value for developers would be through the roof. Finally, I’d like to make a plea to game collectors who have gotten their hands on one-of-a-kind prototypes from this era: don’t be a hoarder. These prototypes are reaching the age where they will fail. Prototypes are not hard-wired into the ROMs. They suffer from this phenomenon known as Bit Rot (read about that here). It’s rare when people are in a position to give a gift to the entire world FOREVER, but if you have a one-of-a-kind gaming prototype, you’re in that lucky position. You can either be the villain who let an irreplaceable piece of gaming history die, or you can give back to gaming for all it has given you.

Frankenstein’s Monster
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Published by Data Age

This one hurts. Quite a lot. I try to act the tough girl, but the more I learned about Data Age, the more I started choking-up and wiping tears away. Historically bad timing, one REALLY bad management decision, and a slew of mediocre starting titles killed them right out of the starting gate. And yet, they proved they had a LOT of talent with this, one of the best games on the Atari 2600. Damnit (wipes tears) this job ain’t always fun. It’s never fun to see talent rot on the vine.

Data Age is one of the tragedies of the Crash of 1983. They had just gotten their start. I mean, their office probably still smelled like fresh paint when they debuted their opening library in October of 1982. While their initial lineup was considered wildly inconsistent, if not outright mediocre, they proved with Frankenstein’s Monster in March of 1983 that they actually had real talent, gutsy ambition, and a vision. Unfortunately, they’d already bet the farm.. and lost.. on the significantly less ambitious, but theoretically more viable Journey Escape (see below for that review). By the time this came out, their backers weren’t paying up to advertise Frankenstein’s Monster, one of the very best third party games on the Atari 2600 that wasn’t by a company whose name rhymes with “Smacktivision.” This is one of the more high-concept VCS games. It’s a race against the clock as you have to zig-zag your way up and down an obstacle course to collect a brick, then return to the top floor, where that brick forms a barrier. The object of the game is to return enough bricks to form a complete barrier around the monster before the green fills his body, symbolizing him fully energizing.

The weak link of Frankenstein’s Monster is the segment with the bats. The further you advance, the less any perceptible pattern shows itself. The bats don’t harm you, but they push you backwards. Data Age had already made Journey Escape, a game built around this concept, that just plain isn’t any fun. In Part Three, I’ll take a look at a couple more games of theirs.

Frankenstein’s Monster is perhaps the best controlling platformer on the Atari 2600. There is a learning curve to the jumping angle/physics that might take a full round or two to get the hang of. Once you do, you should be able to instinctively judge distances and know your limitations. Unlike so many VCS games, there’s no infinite gameplay loop to Frankenstein. The game ends when you build the barrier, and the challenge comes from avoiding the enemies (which stun you) and completing the game in the quickest time for a high score. There’s only one level, plus an annoying challenge that feels like it belongs in one of the SwordQuest games or something. The only knock I have on it is that it doesn’t do more. Even one more level would have been nice, especially since few Atari games do so much right: controls, collision, and a novel concept. Hell, this is even an early example of successfully incorporating horror elements. It’s not AMAZING or anything, but I kind of wish someone would remake this with more levels. The idea is dead, but.. like.. it’s Frankenstein, yo! Coming back from the dead is what it does!
Verdict: YES!

Frogger
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Ed English
Published by Parker Bros.

I was stunned this took as good a screenshot as it did, given how much flicker this had.

Frogger was the best-selling video game ever published by Parker Bros., the 4th-highest selling Atari 2600 game, almost the best selling third party game on the VCS (coming less than 200,000 units shy of Donkey Kong’s record), and oft-cited as one of the best arcade translations on the entire platform. And.. yea, it deserves all that recognition. Frogger is (almost) always fun, and it’s so hard to botch that it became one of the best LCD games I’ve reviewed as well. With the exception of the brutal, non-stop flicker, this is pretty dang accurate. If anything, I think this might play slightly better than the arcade version, since there’s no animation in the movement. This is one of the rare times that works for you. You automatically teleport from space to space, like an LCD game. It renders any potential timing issue, including hopping on-and-off the sinking stones, a non-factor. Really, the only thing missing from the arcade version are the otters. They never really added anything to the game, anyway.

Is Frogger the best arcade translation for the Atari 2600 released during the natural life cycle of the VCS?

Yes. Yes it is.

Verdict: YES!

Oh, but not THAT Frogger. No, the Parker Bros. one is great and the second best arcade translation on the VCS.

But, there’s actually another..

The Official Frogger
Platform: Atari 2600 – Starpath Supercharger
Year: 1982
Designed by Stephen Landrum
Published by Starpath

Yes, indeed.. Atari 2600 games COULD look and play this well in 1982. Whoa!!

In recent times, homebrewers.. a term I hate, so I’ll call them indie developers.. have been able to ignore the types of file size and various other limitations common to the Atari 2600. So, for example, Donkey Kong can now look and play like this. Go ahead, go try it. Neat, huh? That was cost prohibitive in 1982, unless, say.. you used a special device that worked with games stored on standard audio cassettes. In theory, such a device could store a lot more data at a lot less cost. Enter the Starpath Supercharger, which could plug into any audio tape player. The Supercharger gave the VCS an extra 6KB of RAM, which doesn’t sound like a lot, until you remember that the console only natively had 128 BYTES.

I’ll be doing more SuperCharger games in parts three and four.

With that nearly fifty-fold increase, you could do games like The Official Frogger. It still has some flicker, but it also looks terrific, plays terrific, and even adds everything missing from the also sublime Parker Bros. port. The otter? It’s back. The music? While I’m not entirely sure what Yankee Doodle has to do with a frog crossing the street, it’s back too. Plus, the graphics look much closer to the arcade original. Oh, and that LCD-like “teleport seamlessly from space-to-space” quirk that might actually make the Parker Bros. port easier than the arcade version? Even that’s here. Most importantly: Frogger is just plain fun. So is the Parker Bros. version, but this one really stands out. This is certainly the best arcade translation ever released for the VCS during its natural life cycle. It almost feels unfair to name it as such, but it’s technically accurate. As Futurama taught us, that’s the best kind of accurate.
Verdict: YES!

Frogger
Platform: Atari 5200
Year: 1983
Designed by Steve Kranish

The advanced Atari 5200 is doused in gasoline and lit ablaze by an accessory that stores games on cassette tapes. And if you think THIS is a bad effort, just wait until you see Q*Bert 5200!

Frogger for the Atari 5200 makes you wonder why Atari didn’t just license the SuperCharger and call it their next generation console. This Parker Bros. port looks like a downgrade over the StarPath SuperCharger’s Frogger for the Atari 2600, and the gameplay is right there with it. Going into this port, I wondered “how exactly would you even play Frogger with a controller that doesn’t self-center?” The answer is you have to press a button BEFORE you use whatever directional controller you’re using. Wow. Yea, I mean.. that’s one way of doing it, I suppose. Parker Bros. could have made themselves the hero of Atari 5200 owners everywhere by just making a new, non-sucky controller and bundling it with the highly-desirable Frogger, which was the fourth best-selling Atari 2600 game. People wanted it. Lots of people. This port doesn’t offer much over the VCS version they did. It doesn’t even have the otter. Just the typical slow and sloppy 5200 gameplay I’ve come to expect and weirdly greenish-red graphics that IN THEORY are an upgrade over the 2600, but they’re so unpleasant to look at. Honestly, I’d rather play the 2600 Frogger.. hell, I’d rather play Coleco’s LCD Frogger, and instead drown this one in a pond next to a busy freeway.
Verdict: NO!

Ghost Manor
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Published by Xonox

Ghost Manor and Spike’s Peak are both among the most ambitious and multi-faceted games on the Atari 2600. Each game is broken up into multiple different segments that look and play differently. I didn’t expect the people who hocked useless kitchen appliances to stoners at 3AM to be among the more ambitious Atari 2600 designers. This console keeps surprising me.

In searching through the entire Atari 2600 library, I encountered these bizarre double-ended cartridges by a company called Xonox. Who are they? Well, this is actually kind of funny. Xonox was created in 1983 as the publishing wing of K-tel, a multinational that, like so many others, lost billions in the Dot Com Bubble. K-tel makes its money today through the 200,000 songs it owns the distribution rights for. BUT, in 1983, they were the market leaders in infomercials, with their #1 earning product being.. not kidding.. the Veg-o-Matic. So, yea, even the Veg-o-Matic people saw the Atari 2600 and said “what about me?” In order to stand out in the crowded field, they created double-ended cartridges, letting consumers get two games for the price of.. well, one-and-a-half, since Xonox carts were about $15 to $20 more than average carts. Whether this was the wisest idea or not is debatable, especially considering that they’d mix-and-match the same games in different order. For example, there were FOUR carts where Ghost Manor was one of the two games. Logically, it would always be packed with one game, and the other two games would be bundled into a single configuration. This model was disastrous, and after a handful of double carts, Xonox briefly tried solo carts of the same games before it abandoned game development as the industry collapsed. The Ghost Manor/Spike’s Peak double cart was their best seller, so I figured I’d take a look at them.

According to the instruction book, the Jason-like killer is actually supposed to be a mummy. I’d accept “the grim reaper” but to me it felt like a slasher movie killer. Whatever.

Spike’s Peak is down below, but as for this game? Ghost Manor is quite ambitious, as far as Atari games go. A genre smörgåsbord consisting of four challenges that are.. less than ideally thought-out, though you can choose whether you want to be a boy rescuing a girl OR a girl rescuing a boy. That’s pretty progressive for this era. In the first part, you have to play tag with a friendly ghost (or skeleton, depending on your dip switch configuration). This is a no-fail time waster. You just have to run alongside the ghost as it scurries in the same pattern across the tombstones. Once you get twenty-five “hits” doing this, you move to the second section. This is a shooting gallery with a Jason Voorhees-like slasher with a hockey stick and seven targets flying back and forth across a castle. You have to avoid Jason’s hockey stick attacks and shoot down all seven targets with the twenty-five bullets you got in the graveyard. Once you shoot all the targets, you can finally shoot the slasher and move to the third challenge, which is a maze. The maze has a bar that moves back and forth, and the object is to not be crushed. It offers about zero challenge, except for the coffins. You can search the coffins to get extra points and crosses that you use to repel the vampire that bears more than a passing resemblance to Lon Cheney Sr.’s get-up in London After Midnight.

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The mazes are where Ghost Manor falls completely apart, as it becomes apparently most of the game is really sloppily coded. You don’t know WHERE exactly on them you have to press up against to search them, and you have to press the fire button too. There’s a god awful ringing noise when you finally find the sweet spot, but it’s just really awfully done. It’s made even worse by the fact that you don’t even need to do this. You get a cross just by making it to the final room in general. The cross DOES wear off and the final boss is also coded badly, so it helps to have more one in the final room into a jail cell in the final room. In that final room, Lon Cheney stalks you, matching your vertical movement but just a step behind you. There’s an empty jail cell to the far right of the screen, and to win, you just have to wait for him to get close, then dash to the bottom of the screen so that you get below him, then hit the fire button and repel him into the cell. Sometimes it works, and sometimes he just clips right through the screen, eventually returning to the playfield. It’s never consistent, and I couldn’t find a specific spot where it works every time. When you finally do succeed, your partner is released and then you just have to wait for them to slowly walk to the stairs. I can’t fault Ghost Manor for trying to do more than most VCS games, but the first level is just stupid, and levels three and four are badly programmed. The shooting gallery is the best part, and it’s been done better in dozens of other games. Feel free to ghost this one.
Verdict: NO!

Halloween
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Ed Salvo and Timothy G. Martin
Published by Wizard Video Games

A fun note about my Atari 50 marathon: I made rules for myself that I felt would help bring strengths and weaknesses of each game into a clearer focus. One of those rules is that I don’t read the instruction books for any game to start. It’s my way of seeing how intuitive the gameplay is, and how self-evident the object and rules for a game are. For Halloween, I kept checking the book to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. It’s so simple. (UPDATE: I read the instruction books from the start now. It creates a more fair experience.)

Where do I begin with this one? There really was no Wizard Video Games. There was just Wizard Video, who movie aficionados will recognize as the distributor of such horror films as Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Zombie 2 (a VHS cover that messed me up very badly when I saw it at a young age) and I Spit on Your Grave. Wizard created a label to release two, and only two, Atari 2600 games based on movies they had distribution rights for at the time. One was Texas Chainsaw Massacre (which I’ll review in Part Three), and the other was Halloween, which they didn’t even distribute on VHS in the US. These were the first truly violent home video games, and many stores refused to carry them (in part because of shoddy packaging that might include using hand-written labels). The majority of those who did would keep the game under the counter and only let customers know they had it upon request. Without social media or a large marketing budget, how did anyone know these even existed, especially since video game magazines weren’t very big in 1983?

In 2023, this is tame. In 1983? It was the Big Bullsh*t Fake Outrage of the Day™, even though Halloween, along with Texas Chainsaw Massacre (reviewed below) is rated a 7 out of 10 in rarity by AtariAge. Hell, the one with a handmade label is even rarer at an 8 out of 10. In other words, almost nobody owned either game, or even knew they existed.

As far as the game goes, it’s a fairly simple point-grinder. You play as a babysitter who must locate children and escort them to either of the safe rooms, which are located on the furthest rooms on the left and right inside the house. The house is divided into two floors and two “sides” that you can move between using doors. The children will always run along the bottom of whatever floor they’re on, even when you’re guiding them. When you press the button over them, they start to follow you. The twist is that you never know when Michael Myers, complete with iconic theme, will show up, or what direction he’ll come out of. It does actually make for a chilling atmosphere, which I found genuinely impressive. Early on, I figured out that I could easily just run past him as long as I zig-zagged. If a child is in the room, Michael will always go after them first, but I could still often run right past him and keep both safe. BUT, just when I thought “well, this is too easy” I started to realize Michael had gained speed. Yep, it turns out that he gets faster every five kids, and suddenly I was doing the Scooby Doo Run. You know.. the Scooby Doo Run! Where you run one direction, then crap yourself when the monster is there and turn around and run the other? Yea, I did that a lot.

You can’t really see it here, but I’m stabbing Michael with a knife I found. It appears randomly, and it allows you to stab him for points, and he’ll also harmlessly run away if you score the hit. Two knife hits is the equivalent of rescuing five kids and levels-up the game.

So, Halloween provides genuine scares, still today, in 2023. A YES! then, right? Well, unfortunately, it only takes about five minutes worth of thinking it through to realize how absurdly clockable a game Halloween is. For example, if you’re moving left, sometimes Michael will keep coming out the right side and forcing you to double back. OR, instead of running away, you can stand close (but not too close) to the edge of a room to “tempt” Michael to come out the side closest to you, and then just sprint across to the direction you wanted to go when he does appear. You can also use the fact that Michael always goes for the child first to your advantage. If he appears when you’re nearly halfway across the room, you can just keep moving towards him. He’ll walk down at the kid, even if you’re the closer target, and you’ll both safely run right past him. This usually works even after he gains speed. And hell, you don’t lose a life or points or anything if he kills one of the kids. Since there’s no ending and the game just keeps spawning kids until you run out of lives, there’s no pressure to keep them alive. Also, sometimes it’s a chore getting the kids to follow you, so it’s fun to let Michael skewer the little bastards. Sigh. It’s almost tragic, because Halloween was this close to being the first genuinely fun survival horror game, and a title that did more to advance the genre. I thought I might like this even more so than Atari’s Haunted House, but at least Haunted House offers more things to seek out. History hasn’t been kind to Halloween 2600, and that’s not fair. It was so very, very close to winning me over.. but there’s just no stakes here.
Verdict: NO!

Journey Escape
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Published by Data Age

The cop-looking things are “shifty-eyed managers” and the hearts are “love-crazed groupies.” Yea, this game is bonkers.

A few weeks ago, I reviewed Bally’s minigame mash-up Journey, a game with a behind the scenes story that’s memorably insane, but the game itself is just really dull. Well, that seems to be the running theme with this band and video games. Journey Escape killed ambitious start-up Data Age right out of the starting gate, and became a typical cautionary tale for a 1982 pre-crash release. Data Age, still in start-up, put-up a whopping advertising budget of $4,500,000 in 1982 dollars, which is between $13.5 to $14 million dollars today, in 2023. But, it’s even worse than it sounds. You see, despite having fewer TV channels and a lot less commercial airtime for sale, advertising got you a LOT more bang for your buck in 1982 than the same money, even adjusted for inflation, gets you today. Using the Super Bowl isn’t entirely fair, but it’s the easiest example. In 1982, a thirty-second Super Bowl spot would cost you $300,000, give or take, which is about $900K to $1,000,000 in 2023. But, for Super Bowl LVII in 2023, that same amount of time costs $6M – $7M. Print ads were cheaper. Magazine ads. So, that $4,500,000 budget, for a game publisher’s very first ever release? Kind of nuts. Granted, Journey was hot at the time, but Data Age should have been focused on establishing their brand, so that consumers understood they were making games for the Atari console.

See the little Kool-Aid Man looking thing? It’s really the “Mighty Manager” and it’s the most overpowered item on the Atari 2600, because it allows you to run through every single obstacle without losing points or being pushed backwards. How long? For the rest of the stage. Wha? I’d say that it would make more sense if there was a temporary version of it, BUT THERE IS! These little green aliens (that are supposed to be roadies) do that. Weird.

Then you get to the game, which has been historically lambasted, but.. it’s not THAT bad, people. Sure, a big part of my entertainment came from reading the instruction book at AtariMania. The idea is you have to navigate all five band members to the band’s spaceship, but along the way, there’s four types of obstacles that you will bump into. Scoring is interesting: you start with $50,000 and every time you collide with something, you lose money. It’s where the game makes the band sound like they have some kind of persecution complex. Run into a shifty eyed promoter? $2,000. The flashbulbs of the paparazzi? $600 to “secure the negatives.” I swear to God, the instructions say that. Run into a love-crazed groupie? It costs you $300, which is presumably the cost of a visit to a walk-in clinic and a bottle of antibiotics. You know, in 1982 dollars. While I had fun cracking-up my family saying “oh sh*t, watch out! That one has syphilis!” honestly, Journey is really very empty on gameplay. You just dodge out of the way of things that fly onto the screen in different patterns. If you touch them, you lose money and get pushed back. You have to scroll the screen upwards and touch your spaceship before time runs out. It’s kind of like Frogger without parameters, and while it’s not an abomination or anything, it gets dull fast. It’s especially weird that the game only has one challenge element, and there’s an item that eliminates that lets you just skip all that for the length of a level. $4,500,000 to advertise such a nothing game, which is especially painful given that they had the high concept Frankenstein’s Monster releasing roughly four months later. Huh. Yea, I can’t imagine how the bottom fell out of the game industry in 1983.
Verdict: NO!

Joust
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Kevin Osborn and Mike Feinstein

It looks the part, but like so many conversions on the Atari 2600, Joust is missing the little idiosyncrasies that ultimately make the game work.

I’ve never been the biggest Joust fan. Of course, I said that in my Vs. Balloon Fight review and I gave that a YES! so, hey, nobody can accuse me of being close-minded. I was even open to liking this Atari 2600 version. I wanted to. Joust is charming. Flying ostriches and fencing lances and pterodactyls, all taking place on top of lava? I kind of hate myself for not enjoying the arcade version. The Atari 2600 I have no such problem with. The object is to come crashing down an opponent. In the coin-op, you have to have sufficient height, or your bird squeals as you clank into each other. Here, there’s no clanking. If you and an enemy hit each other in the front, one of you is dying. It dramatically changes the dynamic of Joust and takes all the intensity out of it. In this formula, the most nail-biting, exhilarating moments are where you and an enemy are bouncing off each-other, each jockeying for position. Remove that, and it just becomes a game of Tag with birds. I got a chuckle out of how the eggs fly through the sky like feathers, but Joust for the 2600 is just awful.
Verdict: NO!

Joust
Platform: Atari 5200
Year: 1983
Designed by Steven Szymanski, Allen Wells, Mike Horowitz, & Pete Gaston

Yep, that sure is Joust alright.

One thing about being a good video game critic is you have to be open to the possibility of liking any game, but be totally honest when a competent game just doesn’t “do it” for you. That’s the case with Joust in general for me. I don’t get it. I don’t think it’s fun at all. And yes, I’ve played it with two players and tried to kill my partner. It’s funny the first time you betray them, but less funny once you both expect it. If you’re both trying to kill each-other, the game will inevitably devolve into both of you flying at the top of the screen, bouncing off of each-other, waiting for one or the other to get tired. At least Balloon Fight has different arenas. Joust becomes a grind to play, but if you do like it, the Atari 5200 port seems decent enough. Yes, you clank this time. Yes, the birds screech in pain when you do. Yes, you can kill the pterodactyl just like in arcades (if anything, I think it’s much easier).

This is one of those “fundamentally different” moments, since the eggs don’t work like they do in arcades.

Actually, it’s not entirely perfect, as the eggs just hatch into combat-ready enemies instead of soldiers who have to wait for their mounts, giving you a few seconds to pick them off. Oh, and flying requires a lot less button mashing than the arcade game does, and it might actually shoot the moon and become too floaty. The timing never felt right to me, and I found myself overshooting enemies. When playing the arcade game, there were many instances where I could just walk off a ledge and crash down on an enemy, and I could flap once to overcome any timing issues on my part. That wasn’t the case here. Flapping once just launched me too high. Not that any of this would have mattered. I gave the arcade version of Joust a NO! and, having just played it again to check this version’s physics over the arcade one, I still don’t like it. If you were a BIG Joust fan in 1983 and owned an Atari 5200, lucky you. You got a decent enough port of an overrated game that I’ve never understood the appeal of.
Verdict: NO!

Joust
Platform: Atari 7800
Year: 1986

If the 5200 is the “everything is Eye-Sore Red and Sickly Green” Console, the Atari 7800 is the “Graphics that Bleed Into Each-Other” console. It’s not that it’s bad looking, but colors just feel like they overlap too much. I don’t know how else to put it.

Joust for the 7800 is basically an arcade-accurate port with ugly graphics. Take all the improvements that Atari 5200 version added over the Atari 2600 version, and add the “eggs hatch into soldiers” bit where you still have a chance to kill them if you can beat their mount to the hatchling. So, that part is nice. There’s also more classes of enemies. And yes, you can kill the pterodactyl. I actually forgot to check to make sure you could, so I went back and scored one final highlight for this feature: killing three pterodactyls in a six-second span. My Dad was watching and the two of us exploded in jubilation. Too bad the rest of the game just isn’t that fun. Joust just isn’t a game I’ll ever get, and I’ve now played enough versions across enough platforms to know that it’s just not for me, so take this review with a grain of salt because I just find the format boring. The setting, theme, and larger levels barely saved Vs. Balloon Fight for me, but that won’t take here. It’s just not interesting enough. Also, the light flapping is back from the 5200 version, but actually, I don’t think it’s that bad here, which makes Joust 7800 probably the best version of Joust I’ve ever played. If this version didn’t get a YES! it’s unlikely any version will. But hey, my fingers are crossed for the NES port!
Verdict: NO!

Jungle Hunt
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by John Allred and Michael Feinstein

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Originally called Jungle King in arcades and based on Tarzan, at least until Taito got a cease and desist order, the rechristened Jungle Hunt is one of the more impressive arcade translations for the Atari 2600. It looks great, considering all the limitations. It plays pretty similar to the arcade version. There’s no missing elements, with only a minor alteration to the fourth segment’s structure, where instead of jumping over two.. um.. less than politically correct enemies, you have to jump over one at a time. Besides that, probably the most notable alteration is that the boulder-dodging section takes place on a flat surface instead of running up a hill. The game also dumps straight from one level to the next, with no victory animations between them. You can’t even say the charm has been stripped out, because Taito already removed things like the Tarzan yell to avoid a lawsuit. No, this is a really accurate take on the arcade experience.

Alright, let’s talk about the racism. It was 1983, and Jungle Hunt had an explorer theme.. in a jungle setting.. and.. this sort of feels inevitable, doesn’t it? But, you know what? It actually makes me really proud. Just forty years later, stuff like this rightfully wouldn’t fly in 2023. That’s cultural progress you can measure, without any ambiguity.

But.. to be honest, I don’t think Jungle Hunt is all that. I didn’t like the arcade game, and so being accurate to that isn’t going to help it all that much here. And that’s not to mention the Atari 2600 version being significantly easier. After one cycle, the boulder section becomes difficult, to the point that the ability to duck seems functionally useless. But, the rope swinging section is completely nerfed, and I never came close to dying in the swimming section or the final challenge, where the.. stereotypes.. don’t even raise their spears up like they do in the arcade game, which eliminates the entire challenge. Look, don’t get me wrong: Jungle Hunt had big fans in 1983, and I’m really happy for them that they had such a surprisingly accurate.. and even good looking.. Atari 2600 port. But, this is about the test of time, and Jungle Hunt didn’t stand a chance at it. Games today do all these same elements together, in single stages. What was innovative in the early 80s is old hat now.
Verdict: NO!

Jungle Hunt
Platform: Atari 5200
Year: 1983
Designed by Alan Merrell

The monkey is like “hey, weren’t you Tarzan a few months ago?” And the explorer is like “bruh, it’s a long story.”

Golly. I know I sound like a broken record but the Atari 5200 is SLOW. I don’t even like Jungle Hunt, but each of the four segments have a precise rhythm to them. Well, three of the four. The swimming section feels like it belongs to an entirely different game. The other three challenges are leaping-based, and they suck here. I mean.. they suck in the arcade game too. Why would you be able to fly so far forward when the vine is swinging backwards? I feel like Newton would have an aneurysm seeing someone play Jungle Hunt. But, stupid as that is, there IS a beat to it, and the 5200 port feels like it doesn’t quite get it. Is it fun? Well, not really, because the original arcade version isn’t that fun. I seriously don’t get how anyone in 2023 can say this is still fun. It’s just so limited.

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But, while I might not like Jungle Hunt in arcades, at least it zips on by at a lightning pace. You can’t say that about the Atari 5200 version. It’s just not possible to get into a rhythm. It’s slow, but not consistently so. It feels clunky. Oh, and after one cycle of levels, you have to deal with monkeys on the vines, and the timing of when to let go of the vine to go to the next becomes especially fickle. Even when I used rewind, it sure seemed like jumping from different segments still took me to the exact same spot that was killing me. Sigh. Well, at least you can duck the boulders on stage 3, and hey, sometimes it even works! Sometimes. Most of the time you still die even if the boulder doesn’t look like it touches you. I suppose if someone were a huge fan of Jungle Hunt in 1983 and somehow wouldn’t get bored playing it after like ten minutes, this is a port they could sink their teeth into. It’s close to the coin-op, only unclockable. Maybe in that sense it makes it more interesting than the real deal . I guess. I mean.. feels like a stretch to say that. That’s really the Atari 5200 experience in a nutshell: being forced to gaslight yourself into believing you’re better off with it.
Verdict: NO!

Kangaroo
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Kevin Osborn

The new third stage. It’s such a simple looking game, isn’t it? In comparison, remember Jungle Hunt for the Atari 2600 from above? It was released on the exact same day as this, and it looks great! This looks like someone won a minimalism bet.

Having just reviewed the coin-op Kangaroo, I’ll say that the Atari 2600 game isn’t a completely awful approximation of the arcade experience. I mean.. the Atari game sucks, but the original game sucks, so there really wasn’t all that much to lose in translation. On the VCS, the first two levels from the arcade game carry over. The stage where you punch the stack of monkeys is not here, nor is the ladder maze fourth stage. To Kevin Osborn’s credit, he designed an original third stage. Unfortunately, it’s just as nonsensical as the second stage. Broken ladders? Ladders that don’t go anywhere? Huh, why, that’s something Donkey Kong did too! Actually, in fairness, Kangaroo 2600 is probably better than Donkey Kong 2600, but only barely so. This port comes with its own problems. After two complete cycles, the enemy projectiles rain down on the ladder you need to climb up so frequently I’m not even sure how I’d get past them. Even after rewinding multiple times and trying to “lure” the fruit away, I couldn’t do it. Regardless of that, Kangaroo just plain isn’t fun. It’s simple and lacks what little minuscule charm the coin-op had.
Verdict: NO!

Kangaroo
Platform: Atari 5200
Year: 1983
Designed by Allen Wells

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Well, the monkey stack level is back. So, Kangaroo 5200 at least replicates all four levels from the arcade version. The jumping physics are completely different. You don’t get the height you used to get, so now you have to get right up to edges to jump over even small gaps. Weirdly, you still have to press UP to jump instead of a button. There’s seriously like fifty buttons on the crappy Atari 5200 controller and you still have to press a direction to leap. That’s Bill Laimbeer’s Combat Basketball levels of objectively stupid design. Otherwise, eh, this isn’t far off from the janky arcade game. The monkey stack is more frustrating to deal with. The already fickle collision is even worse. I’ll give Kangaroo this: it makes a better Atari 5200 game than an arcade game. The arcade game is, frankly, stunning in how haphazardly designed it was. You expect that from home games from this era, but not from coin-ops. There’s probably a good game buried in Kangaroo somewhere. It’d make a good candidate for a modern remake, as long as someone.. you know.. took the time to design levels that don’t make you stare blankly at the screen and wonder what they were thinking when they came up with these layouts.
Verdict: NO!

Kool-Aid Man
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Steve Tatsumi & Jane Terjung
Published by Mattel

Despite being developed and published by Mattel, this has no relationship with the Intellivision game that looks more like a Keystone Kapers ripoff.

I had to stop and think really, really hard if I’ve ever even drank Kool-Aid. I don’t think I have, but, when I was a very little kid.. like, four or five years old.. my Dad brought home popsicle molds and a couple packets of Kool-Aid mix, hyping-up that me and him were going to make homemade popsicles! Yes, I have a cool Dad. The best. I’m very lucky, but I wasn’t so lucky that night. I spent the rest of the day waiting.. FOR HOURS.. staring at the freezer, with all the anticipation of a birthday and Christmas morning rolled into one, bugging the poor bastard every two or three minutes with “are they done yet?” When they finally were, the end result was so bland. I distinctly remember him making a face like “that doesn’t seem right” and chomping the concoction and finally sighing, “I think it needed more sugar.. or less water.” It turns out it was less water, as you don’t make the popsicles the same way you do the beverage. Dad, still being awesome, said “how about we go out and get some ice cream, Ninita (little girl)?”

They made a Kool-Aid Man game that doesn’t involve crashing through walls? Seriously?

That had NOTHING to do with the Kool-Aid Man game, but hey, you try to make an interesting review out of this thing. It’s a really simple premise: you’re a pitcher of Kool Aid who must stop enemies from drinking all the water out of a what’s supposed to be a swimming pool. Yea, that’s exactly the water source myself and everybody else wants to create their sugar water out of. I say let the enemies win, and if they don’t get sick from drinking sweat and piss, the chlorine will give them bowel cancer. But, the game doesn’t let you win that way. You have to avoid the enemies when they’re just traffic, but when they stop to drop their straw, you can touch them to eliminate them. If they touch you, you go ricocheting around the playfield and need a few seconds to regain control. This also happens if you touch the wall or ceiling, and whatever the case is, any enemies you hit while bouncing around out of control add to the length you have to wait to regain the controls. The game ends when they empty the pool. You can turn the pitcher into Kool-Aid Man by grabbing one of three ingredients (Kool-Aid Mix, Sugar, or Water) that fly in from the sides. It’s honestly not the worst premise and can’t make for some exciting close calls, especially when you get stuck bouncing around the playfield for ten or more seconds. I figured I’d play this for fifteen minutes, and then next thing I knew, an hour had passed, and I never got bored. This might be one of the biggest shockers of my Atari run so far. I’m stunned. Truly.
Verdict: (Breaks through a Wall) OH YEA! (That would be a YES!)

Lock ‘n’ Chase
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Bruce Pedersen
Published by Mattel Electronic

One thing I appreciate about Lock ‘n’ Chase is there’s no blinking or slowdown. It’s as smooth as butter. Too bad it’s not a better game.

In the wake of Pac-Man, Lock ‘n Chase was one of the most well known copy-cats. It’s basically the same concept: you, a maze, four chasers, dots to collect, bonuses in the center, and exits where you go through one side and pop out the other. As far as coattail riders go, this one is uncomfortably close. As always, there’s a couple twists. The most notable one is that you can put up a couple temporary barriers to help yourself scratch-out distance between you and the chasers. I never really got them to work quite the way I wanted them to and just as often killed myself trying to utilize them. The more significant change was that, as far as I could tell, there’s no way to defeat the enemies. I’m of the opinion that maze chases need the pursuit to be the best part, and that turning the tables on enemies is a nice extra, but not necessary as long as the chase is fun. Lock ‘n’ Chase tested my certainty on that, because it almost seems fine, but it’s just not fun. I think the problem is the maze is just not excitingly designed. It’s a dull layout that doesn’t lend itself to the close calls that are the hallmark of a great maze chase. Lock ‘n’ Chase is probably one of the Atari 2600’s better examples of this genre, and I’m sure it was a lot better in 1982, but it certainly doesn’t hold up to the test of time.
Verdict: NO!

Mario Bros.
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Dan Hitchens

I’m sounding like a broken record in Part Two, but again: so many games LOOK the part, but it’s the idiosyncrasies that make the game that they’re missing.

I’ve met a lot of people who consider Mario Bros. 2600 a strong effort. But, saying this does the absolute bare minimum to qualify as an adaption of the 1983 Nintendo coin-op is an understatement. It has the four enemies and their relative behavior correctly, and it has the sliding movement that annoyed me enough to not like the arcade game at all, so go figure, that’s the one aspect they kept. What’s missing is the nuances of the bumping attacks. There’s no horizontal momentum. When you do a bump, the enemies are just stunned in place. They don’t fly off to the left or right if you angle it, like in the arcade game. That’s the fun part. The cartoonish, almost slapstick action. That’s completely gone, which means you ALWAYS have to jump onto the platform they’re on. Without the ultra-satisfying “hit an enemy at an angle so it flies off the ledge and you eliminate it before it even lands” combat, what else does Mario Bros. have going for it? Co-op where you can actually work against the other player? So what? The combat is so stripped down and reduced that it virtually renders Mario Bros. 2600 an LCD game with animation.

I didn’t get a chance to play this co-op. I’m certain it wouldn’t have changed the verdict. This is a terrible game.

It’s missing other aspects too. Like being able to dodge and defend yourself against the fireballs. Instead of bouncing around, the fireballs are large and travel in straight-lines down the channels. You can’t destroy them with a bump, and since they don’t wiggle up and down, you can’t avoid them unless you’re dead-center in the middle channel and jump over them. Since angled bumps are gone and you have to directly kick the enemies to eliminate them, you’re often left at the mercy of the randomly-spawning fireballs, which can prevent you from being able to bump and attack the enemies. The best thing I can say about it is that it’s just accurate enough to feel like an official product, and not a cheap knock-off. But, while I personally might not be the biggest Mario Bros. fan, it just feels like everything someone who is a fan could adore about it is not here. The personality. The charm. The satisfaction of taking out enemies in one fluid motion. I can’t believe this has fans, apparently on the basis that the core gameplay is retained. With everything that IS missing from the coin-op, ask yourselves: is this REALLY the gameplay you loved so much? Really?
Verdict: NO!

Mario Bros.
Platform: Atari 5200
Year: 1984
Designed by Bob Merrell

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Hooooo boy! WOW! Where do I begin with Mario Bros. 5200? Easily one of the most inept ports I’ve ever experienced. It’s ugly. SO very, very ugly. The movement feels skippy, even by the standards of the Atari 5200. But, the combat is where this version of Mario Bros. suffers the most. At first, I was like “hey, look at that: you can boink enemies at an angle so they come right to you on a lower floor!” That probably would have been enough for me to call Mario Bros. 2600 a decent port. I mean, I’d have likely still given it a NO! because I think Mario Bros. is really boring in general. Seriously, it and Joust are the two Golden Age of Arcades I just don’t get the reverence for. They suck. But, suck as they might, they still had fans, and this chick is heartbroken for Mario Bros. fans who thought the Atari 5200 would give them a close approximation to the arcade experience. Movement is always bad, and oddly, often has the ice-based sliding regardless of whether the ice monster freezes a platform or not. IN FACT, I could swear I was less likely to slide once one of them fully melted and froze the ground.

After you move past the first color scheme, this weird midnight lightning lingers for the rest of the game. Also, I didn’t edit this. You really do become a cross of Cyndi Lauper and Albert Einstein if you get hit by a fireball.

The bumping physics are the worst I’ve ever seen in any Mario Bros. port, including the Atari 2600 version. The VCS version has no movement when you bump, but at least bumping fundamentally works and is predictable. In this build, sometimes the enemies fly the wrong direction. Sometimes I’d bump right under an enemy, even the non-bouncing ones, and nothing would happen. And, when I say “nothing would happen” I mean NOTHING! Not even the graphics of the floor curling up. Mario Bros. 5200 feels like an early beta build. The flies are the worst. They seem to have a very small collision box when you go to bump them from underneath, and a small window of when you actually can, regardless of whether they appear to have their body planted on the platform or not. Had the Atari 5200 been more popular, I could actually see a scenario where this game takes its place alongside E.T. and Pac-Man as a commonly-cited cause of the 1983 video game crash. Because this, ladies and gentlemen, is as bad as it gets. One of the worst arcade ports I’ve ever seen. Absolutely horrible and a genuine contender for the worst video game ever made.
Verdict: NO!

Mario Bros.
Platform: Atari 7800
Year: 1988

Nope. Still not right, Atari. Someone give them another 8 bits and maybe they’ll finally be in the ballpark.

Three tries. That’s how many Atari had to get a halfway decent version of Mario Bros. up and running. Three tries, one of which unfortunate early 80s children had to convince themselves was good enough, but really, none of them were even close. Mario Bros. for the 7800 is by far the worst game of Nintendo’s Atari 7800 trilogy. It looks like it could be fine, but the jumping is all wrong, and the bumping has something horribly off about it too. Angled bumps feel like you have to hit too far away from the enemy. To give y’all a peek behind the scenes, I actually jumped back-and-forth between MAME and various Atari emulators in the making of this feature. For Mario Bros., I could feel something was horribly off, but I had trouble figuring it out. The bump angle is better than the Atari 5200, but not consistent, especially as you get near the edges of ledges, where the. Assuming you don’t just clip right through the edge of the damn thing, like this:

This is going up, not coming down. The rewind thing is because I had to make sure I got the screenshot at the exact right moment.

That’s even worse than the NES version, which was pretty bad. I went back and tried to do that on the arcade version. There, while you CAN clip through the edges, you practically have to try to do it. THAT is Ice Climber levels of bad, and shameful. I’m not completely done with Mario Bros. At some point in 2023, I’ll be doing Nintendo Black Boxes: The Definitive Review (yes, really) and that means giving the OG Mario Bros. one final “please God, never again” play-through. I can like this formula, or something close to it. My review of Mario Clash hopefully proved that once and for all, especially since that game has more issues than Sports Illustrated. I’d like to see more of this. With the cast of Mario characters now, plus bigger gaming screens and more powerful consoles, you could probably make a rockin’ four player co-op Mario Bros. The OG Mario Bros. at its very best, the arcade version, doesn’t hold up to the test of time. Clunky or otherwise, the 7800 sure can’t.
Verdict: NO!

Mouse Trap
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1981
Designed by Henry C. Will IV and Sylvia Day
Published by Coleco

This would probably be an excellent way to introduce young children to maze chases. Like.. really young. Like.. maybe right after they speak their first words.

Mouse Trap comes with a reputation of being one of the Atari 2600’s best maze chases, and I don’t get it at all. It’s the typical Pac-Man-like “rack up dots” game with a pair of twists, and the best thing I can say about it is that this is one of the better jobs of merging two functions into one button on the Atari 2600. There’s gates scattered throughout the maze, and there’s Xs that are supposed to represent dog bones. By holding the action button next to a gate, you open it and change the shape of the maze. The whole maze, and not just the individual gate. Tapping the button uses one of the dog bones you’ve collected and turns the mouse into a dog, effectively a power pellet that allows you to eat the cats. It sounds fine, but there’s only one maze, and it’s completely lacking in tension. Even with the difficulty adjusted to make the cats faster and smarter, they still posed no threat. Why? (1) There’s only three of them. (2) There’s four dog bones every round. (4) You bank the dog bones, to use whenever you need. I’ve never played a maze chase where the overwhelming advantage belongs to the player as much as Mouse Trap 2600. Consequently, it just isn’t fun at all. It’s fish in a barrel. It also doesn’t come remotely close to the complicated Mouse Trap arcade game, which had three different colors of gates and a lot more grit. This isn’t a port so much as a full-frontal lobotomy of it.
Verdict: NO!

Mr. Do!
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Ed English
Published by Coleco

This is a very flicker-heavy game. Come to think of it, they should have come up with some kind of marketing gimmick with the flicker in Atari games. “Mr. Do! presented in FLICKERVISION™!” Also, the remaining lives look like sperm. I know they’re supposed to be Mr. Do’s head, but.. no, they’re just sperm. I mean, I’m not using all that much imagination with this one.

An adaptation of that game that people remember as “the one that’s like Dig Dug but kind of like Pac-Man too, but mostly Dig Dug. Like, 80% Dig Dug.. maybe 85% if I’m being honest.” Just like Dig Dug, the VCS port seems okay on the surface, until you realize all the little idiosyncrasies that made the arcade game really fun are completely gone. Unlike the Atari 2600 Dig Dug port, this didn’t even get the digging aspect right. One of the fun parts of coin-op are those little bits of wall left over as you tunnel through the playfield, creating a path that enemies have to follow. Well, that’s gone here. The entire square of soil disappears in the VCS port, which completely changes the game’s pursuit dynamic and makes it.. well.. boring. There’s also only two enemies chasing you, but given that the fundamental nature of the chase was lost in translation, that might be a good thing. I admire that this has a lot more levels than the average arcade port to the VCS did, cleverly extended by mirroring levels. But, with the way it’s set up, especially with the enemy that eats through the dirt, this is just not fun. Mr. Do! is often cited as a good port, too, presumably because it retains the DO-RE-ME music when you get the fruit. BUT, even that’s been reduced from bunches of eight to bunches of six. Mr. Do! 2600 is lacking everything that made the arcade version work, and worst of all, what’s left isn’t even charming.
Verdict: NO!

Pole Position
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Doug Macrae

Better than I expected. A LOT better than I expected. But, my retro reviews aren’t about that. They’re about the test of time.

For those who think I hunt these games for sport, trust me, I don’t. In fact, I feel pretty awful doing this review. If I had known zero about the Atari 2600 but retained all my arcade knowledge, and you provided me with a list of coin-op translations on the platform, I might have guessed Pole Position would be the one that suffered the most on the journey home. Before I fired this up, I predicted “there’s no way the sense of speed was retained. None” But, it’s actually here. In fact, the feeling that you’re in a car that’s zooming down a track is so strong that I was genuinely stunned. Completely, utterly stunned. It’s also really kind of smart how they handled having only one button: the gas is just automatic. Yea, really. Up and down shift gears, while the action button handles the breaks, and as my Dad said, “maybe that’s a smart idea, since you actually remembered there was a break and you could use it. There really is a first time for everything!” He’s such a delight. It’s a really impressive technical feat. Pole Position 2600 IS missing the billboards that you crash into if you go off the road, and the rival cars are ugly yellow.. things, but this looks and even feels like the arcade Pole Position. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was one of the biggest surprises of this entire Atari project I’m doing.

I’m not sure what you’re racing, exactly. Kind of looks like.. a crown? I think it’s a crown.

And I have to give it a NO! anyway. I feel like a complete bitch for it, but I have to. The Atari 2600 version of Pole Position is just not fun. Like the original Pole Position, there’s only one track. So, the entire experience is one course where you do the qualifying lap and then the race. There’s also no difficulty options, so what you see is entirely what you get. As technically impressive as I found it to be, the gameplay is too limited, too shallow, and it’s missing the charm of playing with a steering wheel, pedals, and a gear shift. I have a fond memory of my Dad and me climbing into the cockpit of Pole Position II at a pizzeria, and him letting me handle the steering while he did all the complicated stuff. I’d drive us to our death over and over until time ran out, giggling my sadistic ass off. I made the car go boom. I made it go boom VERY good. Well, that experience is lost in translation. The home version is just a very bland racer, and my review format is asking if a game is fun, on its own merit, in 2023. I’m going to be honest: even if they were a HUGE Pole Position fan, I think the average Atari-owning child of 1983 would have had buyer’s remorse about twenty minutes after booting this up for the first time. It’s just done too quickly, with nothing else to offer except challenging for a high score in an arcade port that’s missing everything that makes Pole Position.. well, Pole Position!
Verdict: NO!

Pole Position
Platform: Atari 5200
Year: 1983
Designed by Doug Macrae

I have a slight conundrum with these racing reviews. See, in theory, I think I COULD review them with a steering wheel. I think. I didn’t actually try it, because I didn’t want to go through the process of configuring it. But, since steering wheels wouldn’t be part of a hypothetical collection, I decided against it.

Really, everything that I said about the Atari 2600 version of Pole Position could apply to this version. There’s more traffic, so you could encounter up to three cars at once, adding some challenge. And hey, the billboards are back, so there’s one more thing you can crash into. I mean, the traffic lacks smoothness, which makes judging the distance between the cars a pain in the ass. And no, that’s not a positive, because you’re trying to guess how the game will mess up, which doesn’t feel like it’s in the spirit of the game itself. But, yea, this is Pole Position. Except, it’s missing the charm. This is NOT a game you can bring home. At least the original one. In Part Three of The Games They Couldn’t Include, I’ll be looking at Pole Position II, which at least has more than one track. In 1983, Pole Position would have been fun to sit down inside of, pop a quarter in it.. maybe twice.. and then walk away a satisfied arcade-goer. I can’t imagine wanting to bring it, of all games, home. I get why Atari did. It’s one of the highest-earning arcade games ever. It was popular enough to get a loosely-based cartoon series. But, without the steering wheel, gear shift, and pedals, what’s the point?
Verdict: NO!

Popeye
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Joseph Gaucher
Published by Parker Bros.

Oh Popeye. What have they done to you?

I’m just a few weeks removed from my love letter to Popeye. I adore Nintendo’s Popeye, but I didn’t always. It grew on me, like a benign tumor that toots on a corncob pipe. It’s not like, say, Defender, my favorite Golden Age game that I discovered around the age of 11 (so circa roughly 2000, 2001, somewhere in there, via Williams Arcade’s Greatest Hits) where it was love at first sight. Popeye I felt was okay, but too short at three levels. I didn’t have the experience with maze chases or Golden Age games in general to appreciate that it did things other chase-based games don’t do. Or, if they try to, they do it wrong. Random item placement? Popeye gets that right through the floating/drifting items raining down on the playfield. One single pursuer? Popeye UNIQUELY gets it right through the balanced-but-relentless Bluto. Play-fields optimized for close encounters and nail-biting near misses? Maybe it only has three levels, but those levels are nearly perfect. Playing Popeye is like meeting someone who is secretly a genius, but hides it because they just want to blend in with their peers. The more you get to know them, the more you see that underlying, breathtaking intelligence that leaves you wondering why they’re not doing more with their existence?

The second stage is where it feels like the fun was surgically removed from Popeye. The way the basement is set up, with two teeter-totters, two staircases with the base being near the center the of the screen, no screen wrap-around, and no ladders removes the balance in the chase and gives the overwhelming advantage to Bluto.

Well, there was no way that such a layered, nuanced game was going to carry over its hidden intelligence in a 1983 port by Parker Brothers. A game that they only got because, frankly, Coleco and Atari didn’t want to pay the licensing fee to King Syndicate. Now, Parker Bros. had established their bonafides with Frogger, which is the best arcade translation on the VCS that isn’t housed in a cassette tape. But, let’s face it, the degree of difficulty in translating Frogger was minimal. Cross-the-road is a genre that even LCDs can absolutely nail (and in fact, Coleco’s Frogger is a contender for best LCD ever). Popeye, a complicated maze chase viewed from the side instead of above, was never happening. MAYBE. I mean, maybe it could have with better level design. The first level is as close to the first level of the arcade game as you can get, and while the projectiles coming at you being barely-visible orange dots was annoying, and the behavior of the falling hearts had this uncanny valley “something is wrong” vibe about it, it’s still distinctly the arcade Popeye. “Hey, this may not be too bad.” Then you get to the second level, where the layout is just all wrong. Completely, totally wrong, and it turns over the advantage too much to Bluto.

I was stunned that all three levels were represented, though the moving platform seems to be missing. There’s this weird flashing thing where it should be, but I never had a problem crossing over it. Oh, and the buzzard. The buzzard is missing.

You see, the dirty little secret about maze chase games is that the player must always have the advantage over the chasers, and the trick is masking that advantage to look like a disadvantage. But, in the second level’s basement, Bluto has your number. The ladders from the arcade game are completely gone, replaced with two staircases. The base of those staircases are closer to the middle of the screen, and there’s no wrap-around. Once you get to the basement, if you’ve already used the spinach (and that’s assuming it will even appear on the side of the screen you’re on), you have no means to escape Bluto since you have to run to the center. Now, he’s dumb in this version, so he might walk right up to you and turn around. That happened to me once. But, if you allow the notes to slip to the basement too soon, you’re going to lose a life. Either Bluto will block your means to get them and you’ll die from timing-out, or he’ll just rush you. Oh, and after one level cycle, Bluto throws his bottles so fast and your PITIFUL punch animation is so slow to reset that, if he’s less than half the screen away from you, it’s impossible to time punching all three. Eventually one will get through while you wait to pull your arm back. Popeye never stood a chance on the Atari 2600, but I didn’t expect it to be THIS bad. Because, folks, this is BAD!
Verdict: NO!

Popeye
Platform: Atari 5200
Year: 1983
Published by Parker Bros.

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Well, blow me down! The 5200 version of Popeye is so close to being true to the arcade original that it can taste it. The level layouts are accurate. The bucket gag is back in the first level, Wimpy and Swee’Pea are in the second level, and the moving platform and the buzzard return to the third level. It lacks the cartoonish personality of the arcade port, but hell, so does the NES version! So, what’s the problem? Well, you might want to hold onto something when I lay down this mind-shattering revelation: Popeye on the Atari 5200 is.. get this.. SLOW! I know, right? The stuff Olive Oyl throws down to you can linger on a single floor for quite a while, removing the urgency. Plus, Bluto has been completely nerfed. He’s incredibly easy to outwit, and so the game lacks the type of intensity it needs to work. Popeye works in arcades because of a constant sense of urgency that this port is devoid of. Consequently, it has no tension. I’m grateful that Popeye 5200 exists, because it shows me what a minor miracle the arcade version is. Sometimes, the gap between masterpiece and boring slog isn’t as big as you’d think. Popeye 5200 looks the part, but is just wrong enough to turn an all-time classic into a chore.
Verdict: NO!

Q*Bert
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Dave Hampton
Published by Parker Bros.

I don’t know what went wrong with Popeye, because Parker Bros. really did do some very impressive arcade-to-VCS ports.

Apparently, the response to Q*Bert 2600 when it first launched was mixed, and to this day, it still has detractors. The pyramid of cubes is missing the bottom row of seven cubes from the arcade version, while the enemies who hop along the sides of the cubes are missing completely. Plus, the Atari wasn’t exactly capable of replicating the eye-catching graphical style of the arcade game, or the memorable gibberish-like alien swearing. There is a noise that sounds similar to Charlie Brown’s teacher (“WAHWAHMP!”) but it’s not the same, nor could it ever hope to be. Given the response, I figured this would be pretty bad. But, actually, Q*Bert 2600 is yet another solid port from Parker Bros. Sure, it’s nowhere near as challenging with characters like Wrong Way and Ugg missing, but once you get to the pyramids where the colors change back if you cross a block again, Q*Bert becomes genuinely fun. That’s especially surprising, because I hated those levels in the arcade version. I wanted to like them, but there’s too many things to dodge and too many things that undo your progress. In arcades, Q*Bert practically becomes a war of attrition.

Yes, it’s true: I actually liked this version better than the arcade version, which I think gets too overwhelming. UPDATE: That’s no longer true, as I’ve now put quality time into Q*Bert and fully admit I was wrong. The arcade game is a genuine masterpiece. Read my review of it and the never released official mod, Faster Harder More Challenging Q*bert.

So, yea, stripping out the majority of the enemies actually works to the game’s advantage. When you get to the stages that play out like a puzzle, you’re free to use intelligence and strategy and not scream in agony as you watch all the squares you need to change get saturated by enemies. And hell, if you want an extra challenge, you actually can add the red balls that drop with alarming frequency by toggling the difficulty switch, and you can even turn it on and off as you play. I found that Q*Bert gets off to a slow start, and it’s far too easy with only the one highly-manipulable snake and occasionally the thing that turns the cubes you’ve changed back. But, it’s manageable, and it becomes genuinely fun once you get to the switch-back cubes, where you have to actually use the discs to help you beat the stage. On top of all that, I even found this to be the best-controlling home version of Q*Bert I’ve played yet, and I’ve played many. It’s the only one that felt like it had intuitive movement. So many 2600 arcade ports lose their arcade charm and have to cross their fingers that they pick up some of that primitive Atari charm along the way. Q*Bert 2600 should especially suffer. It’s missing the M. C. Escher appearance, the gibberish, the pinball knocker in the cabinet (which developer Gottlieb, giant of pinball, had in surplus), more than half the enemies, and 25% of the cubes. It doesn’t get that charm back, but it makes up for it with arguably superior gameplay. Purists might disagree, but it’s at least up for debate, and that’s saying something.
Verdict: YES!

Q*Bert
Platform: Atari 5200
Year: 1983
Designed by Daniel Small
Published by Parker Bros.

A couple pennies per unit. That’s about what Atari saved by not having a self-centering joystick. Ray Kassar: you were the worst.

Remember how I told you about having to press a button before you could move in Frogger for the Atari 5200? Yea, that’s how it works in Q*Bert too. Apparently, that was Parker Bros.’s solution to the crappy Atari 5200 controller’s lack of self-centering joystick: press a button to confirm you’re ready to move again. Well, their solution makes Q*Bert 5200 unplayable. Q*Bert requires even faster movement than Frogger, which requires pretty fast movement. It doesn’t help that all the enemies from the arcade version are here too. Everything is wrong about this. Q*Bert 2600 did the unthinkable: it made Q*Bert’s movement intuitive. I never had a problem jumping to the wrong square. Here, if I needed to change directions, it was so bad that I almost was left in a state of shock when I jumped to the square I actually meant to. Without rewinding, I couldn’t couldn’t make it past the fourth stage, and my jaw hurt from grimacing at the badness of it. You know what? Someone at Parker Bros. should have said “Q*Bert is just not possible with this controller.” It really speaks to how badly done Mario Bros. 5200 is that Q*Bert doesn’t contend for the worst 5200 game. It should though. An unresponsive nightmare this one is.
Verdict: @!#?@! (That would be NO!)

Q*Bert’s Qubes
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Designed by Todd Marshall
Published by Parker Bros.

Many of the Atari collectors who helped me to better understand that scene told me that AtariAge isn’t considered the be-all, end-all of rarity charting. While they’re considered mostly accurate, there’s a few games where their rarity is called into question. This is one such game. They have Q*Bert’s Qubes listed as a 9-out-of-10 in rarity, but most of the people I spoke with say that it’s probably closer to a 7 or an 8. Still incredibly hard to find, so much so that someone randomly stumbling upon a copy without actively searching for it would be a very lucky person indeed. But, compared to other games in that 9 out of 10 range, which are holy grail levels of “oh my god” for game collectors, Q*Bert’s Qubes doesn’t seem ungodly rare. The apparent disconnect between its perceived rarity and its actual rarity might be a territorial thing. Q*Bert’s Qubes was distributed in limited quantities only to some Sears locations in the eastern US, along with a department chain called Hills. It’s possible that the game was never sold west of Eastern Ohio, and if collectors from the western United States never just found it at garage sales or second hand stores, it might have given off the impression of Q*Bert’s Qubes being more scarce than it actually is.

Q*Bert Qubes is a fairly impressive technical effort, and I kind of wish I liked it a lot more than I did. Which, if I’m being honest, isn’t much at all. There’s a diamond made of sixteen cubes that you have to rotate by hopping around them, Q*Bert-style. Just barely outside the playfield.. in fact, it looks like it COULD be part of the playfield.. is a target cube, and the object is to match the cubes to the pattern it shows. To clear a level, you have to match any of the patterns you’re shown at the start, starting with a simple tic-tac-toe like straight line, but eventually being multiple blocks that zig-zag around. While you do this, enemies hop around at you. You know you have the right orientation when a cube turns completely green, and in early stages, it locks into place. After so many levels, you can undo the correct position, and you’ll have to just to avoid enemies. It seems fun, but I found Q*Bert’s Qubes to be a completely joyless grind, really. Once you figure out how to quickly rotate the cubes the way you want, it’s a bore. I actually liked the enemy design the most. The rat that dies if you get it to hop onto a cube still rotating from your leap is a clever idea, but that’s all Qubes has going for it.
Verdict: NO!

Save the Whales
Platform: Atari 2600
Released through Control Video Corporation’s GameLine Modem
Designed by Steve Beck
Would have been published by Fox, Distributed by Control Video Corporation

The other two games in this Greenpeace-based series would have been based around Dutch Elm Disease (“Dutch Elm Defender”) and seal clubbing (“Attack of the Baby Seals”). I swear to God, I’m not making those names up.

There’s so many Atari 2600 games where the story behind them is so much more interesting than the game itself. Save the Whales is an incredibly bland and shallow experience based around shooting nets and pollution with a submarine. The nets that drop down too fast, and if they get all the whales, it’s game over. It’s not well designed, as sometimes the nets will come in too close to the wrap-around side, which prevents you from being able to defend the whale at all. I experimented with rewinding and it just wasn’t possible to get a defensive shot off from anywhere. So, Save the Whales is terrible, but that’s fitting because the story behind it is too. Fox collaborated with environmental organization Greenpeace on it, and all the proceeds were supposed to go to them. But then Fox left game development and the rights to all their games were snatched-up by Control Video Corporation for their GameLine modem. The modem bombed due to its outrageous costs: $60 for the hardware ($180 in 2023), $15 per month subscription fee ($45 in 2023) and $1 per game ($3 in 2023) which you only got to keep for one week or so. Save the Whales was available on that service, but that didn’t include the plans to donate to Greenpeace. Control Video Corporation is still around. You know them as AOL. Yes, really. Maybe they didn’t have the money back then to kick the $1 rental fees over to Greenpeace.

It’s GamePass before that was a thing, only more expensive, with a crappier lineup, and you only got the games for one week. Oh, and I forgot to mention that it had to make a long distance call to download the game over dial up, which means that your phone bill would go through the roof too.

Save the Whales is a horrible, horrible game.. but I did play it. And so the Vice Family is going to donate $100 to Greenpeace, which adjusted for inflation, is about what a third-party Atari 2600 game cost in 1982-83. If you’ve enjoyed my Atari coverage, look, I don’t have a Patreon or anything like that. This is what I do for fun, as a hobby. But, if you DO want to show your support or appreciate my efforts, well, Greenpeace kind of got hosed in this whole Fox/CVC Save the Whales thing, and that ain’t right. So, head over their website and kick them a few bucks. If you’re not a fan of Greenpeace, the two charities I typically support the most are The Epilepsy Foundation and Direct Relief. Hell, donate to all three and save the epileptic whales who lost their homes to wildfires!
Verdict: NO!

Sky Skipper
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Published by Parker Bros.

I have no clue what went into the development of this. I couldn’t find the programmer. But, I get the distinct impression that the designer never played the arcade game and based their design on either a video tape or some kind of design document.

On my 30th birthday, I reviewed Sky Skipper in my attempt to be inspirational to game developers, since it was designed by Shigeru Miyamoto and never made it out of route testing in the US or Japan. My way of saying to indie studios “you will fail, and that’s okay.” Despite Sky Skipper being such a bonkers anomaly in the annals of gaming, it’s not the most memorable game experience. By far the most crazy thing about it is that it was actually ported to the Atari 2600. It even got a wide release! According to the experts at Atari Age, it’s a 3 out of 10 in rarity, with a nearly identical pressing as the next game on this list: Spider-Man. Everybody I’ve met that owned it wasn’t even aware it was based on a Nintendo arcade game until modern times. They just thought Parker Bros. came out with a truly horrible, generic, shallow biplane game. This is a low-key contender for the worst game on the Atari 2600 AND the most stripped-down arcade port. Hell, calling this stripped down feels generous. This isn’t even a skeleton of the arcade game. It’s trace amounts of rotten bone marrow.

Two levels, one of them so basic that it’s insulting. The other is just as bland as tofu. What a terrible game.

Sky Skipper consists of two short stages with “enemies” that don’t move. Drop a bomb on one of them to temporarily knock it out, then fly over to the chambers where animals (replacing the playing cards from the arcade game) hop up and down. You don’t stop moving, and if you hit a wall or run out of gas, you die. You’ll mostly die from crashing into the walls, but that’s literally the only challenge. Dodging the clouds that spawn after one cycle of the two levels is a cinch, and since the gorillas don’t swing at you, throw stuff at you, reach for you, jump at you, or do anything besides try to bore you to death, gameplay consists of dropping a load on them, grabbing the three animals that hop up and down, and parking yourself above them and flying back and forth while you wait for it to respawn, since you probably won’t have enough time to grab all the animals before they wake-up. With each cycle, your speed increases, which actually works to your benefit, since you can scoop up more of the freed animals in every bombing run. In my Sky Skipper arcade review, I said Sky Skipper 2600 seemed fine, but I admit, I only played it for about a minute. it wasn’t the focus of the review, and in 2019, I wasn’t exactly an Atari expert. I still ain’t, but having put time into this now? Wow. Yea, bad. Bad bad. Everything interesting from the arcade game, including the complex scoring system, is gone. There are many adaptations on the VCS where I jokingly say “I can’t believe this exists” but with Sky Skipper, I can’t believe this exists. If the game has sentience, I’m guessing it wouldn’t believe it, either.
Verdict: NO!

Spider-Man
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Laura Nikolich
Published by Parker Bros.

Well, at least Green Goblin looks like Green Goblin. Even has the Goblin Glider. That’s literally the only thing it has over Superman 2600, but hey, the villain looking like the villain does help.

Unlike Atari’s Superman, Parker Brothers’ Spidey didn’t defeat its greatest enemy: the Test of Time. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure it beat the Test of NOW in 1982. A derivative of Crazy Climber where you launch a web upwards, either straight ahead or diagonally, attempting to collect bombs, rescue people, get past the Green.. wait, what? The people in the windows are supposed to be bad guys? (reads instruction book) What the fudge? Why would you want to touch bad guys? Or collect them? How’s that even make sense? Okay, those are bad guys.. that you collect.. and then you have to get past the Green Goblin and touch a square at the top of the screen. The difficulty comes from aiming your web, which can only touch the building, and not the windows or empty spots. But, you have to sort of angle yourself so that you don’t touch the people or the bombs scattered around the stage directly. You have to sort of swing into them, but doing so restores your web fluid, which is an automatic loss of life if you run out of it. Spider-Man is pretty boring. The building is always the same shape, and the action is just dull and repetitive. Maybe this exact concept could have worked with a second action button that lets you fire web bullets at the window people. What’s here is too simple and not exciting.
Verdict: NO!

Spike’s Peak
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1983
Published by Xonox

Well this is a piece of.. uh.. ambitious software. Yes. Yes, a piece of ambitious software. (Nods)

The other half of the Veg-o-Matic people’s best selling Atari game(s), and like Ghost Manor, it’s a pretty ambitious effort. It sucks, but it’s ambitious. You’re a mountain climber who I swear looks exactly like Freddy Krueger, and you have to make it past three screens and plant your flag on top of the mountain. Along the way, you have to dodge wildlife, falling rocks, avalanches, boulders, and the Abominable Snowman. It sounds like a perfectly fine premise for a game, and maybe it could have been. But, Spike’s Peak couldn’t decide what kind of game it wanted to be. The first level is the best, and given how problematic it is, that’s a sad statement. You zig-zag up a curvy path at the base of the mountain. Bears lurk back and forth, occasionally hiding in barrels. You can jump over the bears, or you can hide in a barrel. When you hear a bird start screeching, you have to hide in a barrel, as they can swoop in and kill you pretty quickly. Weirdly, if you use the difficulty toggles, it does it by adding lag to your jump. Are you f’n kidding me? That’d be like buying a Nintendo Switch game that comes with a bottle of moonshine labeled DRINK TO TURN ON HARD MODE!

This is where it really gets weird. The side-scrolling, jumping, “I wanna be like Donkey Kong” crapola is still here, BUT you also vertically scale upwards too, and even after reading the instruction book, I’m still not entirely sure what the action button does. I think it’s SUPPOSED to block the boulder that ricochets around like a screen saver, but it passed right through it.

Even without deliberately inflicting controller lag (seriously, anyone else getting “it’s not a bug! It’s a feature!” vibes out of that?), the controls of Spike’s Peak’s first level are unresponsive, but I’ve played a lot worse. But then you get to the second level, and technically the platforms are still there. But, you can also now just scale up the mountain by pressing up. In fact, that seems to be the main thing you’re supposed to do. There’s rock slides that can knock you off and this ricocheting boulder that apparently you can block with this stick, but I never did. The pattern does seem to be totally random, and at one point, I was able to sprint.. poor choice of words since you move about as slow as a terminally ill snail.. and just shimmy up the wall without being stopped, with minimal left and right movement. And it was so boring.

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I initially almost quit the third and final actual level segment, which I thought was a similar “zig-zag up the hill” bit like in stage one, only with a Yeti that you have to throw a snorkel-looking thing at. I couldn’t make any progress on this, even with cheating. After about an hour of trying, I threw in the towel. The original review for this noted it was the only time in nearly 200 Atari games so far for my Atari 50 project that I’d quit. AND THEN I needed more media, went back, and accidentally discovered you can ignore the trail and climb up the side of the hill, like in the second segment. About a minute later, I was planting my flag on the top of the mountain. I’ll be looking at more Xonox games in Part Three of the Atari 50: The Games They Couldn’t Include, but so far the most consistent theme is “ambitious titles, bad coding.” Spike’s Peak was even sloppier than its best-selling cartmate, Ghost Manor. It’s bad. Bad jumping physics, bad level design. For those Atari games that hold up to the test of time, they usually focus on one gameplay element and just do that one thing well enough to be engaging. So far, Xonox’s games seem like they’re trying to be everything all at once, and thus ironically do nothing right.
Verdict: NO!

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Rex E. Bradford
Published by Parker Bros.

In the unlikely event that you actually play this, take my word for it and go all the way to mode 16, which is the highest difficulty. It’s the only one I found remotely stimulating. In it, the Walkers move fast, you die if you touch their body (their legs are safe) AND the weak point flies off the walkers and attacks you. This was ALMOST good.

How do you make the Battle of Hoth scene from Empire Strikes Back boring? Take away the cables the Rebel Alliance used to defeat the AT-AT walkers. Empire Strikes back has you shooting an endless stream of AT-AT walkers. Shooting them. Where’s the fun in that? The answer is, there isn’t any. You just have to shoot the walkers 48 times, or once if you can hit the sweet spot on it that blinks, though usually their head gets in the way of it. There’s actually a defensive aspect to the game: you’re defending the power generator. But, I never came that close to dying via that method. You can shoot the bullets the AT-ATs fire at you out of the air, and if you stay alive for two minutes, you gain THE FORCE and can’t die for a while. And it’s SO BORING! Thank god I looked up the instruction book (thank you as always, AtariMania!) and found out what the different modes do. Mode 16 is the one to play (see the caption above for why). Once I upped the difficulty, Empire Strikes Back was still a limited, shallow, nothing of a game, but it was ALMOST exciting enough to make up for all the time I spent staring at the screen like a zombie, slack-jawed at how boring a concept this was. Almost. The fatal problem is that you can repair damages to your ship just by landing on the ground. On the right mode, Empire Strikes Back isn’t as bad as people make it out to be. It’s just not fun.
Verdict: NO!

Tapper
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1984
Published by Sega

It ain’t much to look at, but this is pretty accurate. I just don’t happen to like Tapper at all. Also, I’m not entirely sure why the game is giving you the finger up there in the scoreboard, but it’s clearly, no doubt about it, flipping the bird.

Yep, Sega published games to the VCS too. Not just their own arcade adaptations, either. They did adaptations of Bally titles Spy Hunter (yes, there’s a Spy Hunter 2600, which is going to be in The Games They Couldn’t Include, Part Three!) and this game. Tapper was one of the first product-placement games. It was originally designed for bars and sponsored by Anheuser-Busch to promote their Budweiser label, but then turned into the generic Root Beer Tapper for normal arcades. The Atari version promotes Mountain Dew, which I’ve always thought tastes nasty. I can’t stress enough that my vision of Hell involves lots and lots of Mountain Dew. Despite my issues with drugs, I’ve never been a drinker, and I no longer consume caffeine or soda either (yea, it’s as boring as it sounds), though alcohol is tempting now. I might have actually enjoyed Tapper for once. I never have, but then again, I’ve never really played Tapper the way it’s meant to be played. In arcades, you fill mugs with an actual tap-shaped lever. It’s one of those “the charm is lost” games, and in Tapper’s case, charm is all it had going for it.

Notice how you can barely see the Mountain Dew logo. I wonder how much they paid for this? It looks like it’s saying “Mountain beuj” or “Mountain bew” doesn’t it? WHY IS THAT SINGLE RED DOT THERE? It’s weird!!

Tapper is probably the definitive arcade spinning-plate game. Shoot a mug of suds down at customers before they reach the end of the counter. Sometimes the customers will finish the glass and send it sliding back and you have to send them another. You lose a life if a customer reaches the end of the counter, or if they send a glass back that you don’t catch, or if you send too many mugs. That was the main way I died. It’s the strangest thing, because the same exact thing that gets me in the arcade version gets me here: I could swear that filled two mugs for two customers, or three mugs for three customers, but instead I’ll send two for three, and three for four. How does that keep happening, no matter which version I’m playing? Maybe I’m just not cut out for this one, but I’ve never enjoyed it, though I’d like to note that I think it’d probably make a perfectly decent LCD game.
Verdict: NO!

Taz
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1984
Designed by Steve Woita
Released in Europe as Asterix

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From the same designer who said that the real reason Quadrun got such a limited release on the Atari 2600 was because Atari used us filthy vagina people.. meaning icky, ICKY girls.. to play test it, and the girls scoffed that Quadrun wasn’t like Ms. Pac-Man. Because, you see, they’re girls, and girls can’t understand a game that doesn’t have a girl as the star, with makeup and a bow, because women be shoppin’ and stuff. Yea, it couldn’t have been because Quadrun sucked or anything. It’s us toilet sitters who blew it for that game. This is the same guy who later worked on Waterworld for the Virtual Boy, which I’m sure bombed because the red water reminded the girls who play tested it of our periods. This was his Atari game that DID come out, and it’s boring. You move up and down eight channels, grabbing food that slides across the channel and avoiding dynamite. After you grab fifty of the current food, the food changes and its value increases. After a few waves it teases something called the “crazed wave” but it’s really just an increase in speed. That’s the whole game. The whole thing. This came out six years after the Atari 2600 launched, and they’d mostly moved past games this simplistic. What can I say about it? It’s boring. I mean, it ain’t no Ms. Pac-Man, right Mr. Woita? The only notable aspect is that they reskinned this for Europe with popular French comic strip character Asterix the Gaul. It’s the same game with different sprites. I’m sure Taz/Asterix was made for little kids, but I’d think even they would get bored with this. Or maybe I just don’t understand this because I’m too busy talking about boys and gossiping on the phone.
Verdict: NO!

Vanguard
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by David W. Payne

It’s fitting the ship looks sort of like the Loch Ness Monster, because this is a rare sighting indeed: a really good arcade conversion on the Atari 2600 that doesn’t suffer from the usual technical hang-ups. No flicker. No slowdown. Decent sound design. I’m truly impressed.

Whoa! Hold on.. where’d this come from? Apparently 21st on the Atari 2600 all-time best seller list (I’m not sure if that’s dubious or not), and yet, nobody talks about Vanguard. Baffling, because this is pretty okay, as far as Atari 2600 ports of relatively complex arcade games go. Not only that, but it feels like a true landmark in the evolution of the shmup, creating a template for where the genre would go over the course of the NES and beyond. When I first discovered Vanguard 2600, I was familiar with the arcade game. I’d played SNK 40th Anniversary, and had I used the Definitive Review format back then, it would have gotten a YES! and been a contender for best game in that set. I played this port a year or two later, and was blown away by the impressive approximation David W. Payne came up with. I might have slightly overrated it, but it’s still an excellent example of making up for the hardware’s shortcomings.

There is ONE spot in the second “tunnel” where, after multiple instances of rewinding it, I’ve come to the determination that you can’t actually survive it. It’s at the very start of the “Striped Zone” and, as far as I was able to tell, the game moves too fast and you don’t move fast enough, and thus crashing into the central wall to begin the level is inevitable. SO FRUSTRATING! Like, how did they make one of the best conversions on the entire platform AND have such an inexcusable design flaw in it?

In the arcade, you can shoot in four directions. They carried that over to the Atari 2600 game despite a control not remotely suitable for it. You don’t need to even really press the button to shoot in the port. Just wiggle the joystick and you can shoot in four directions. OR, if you don’t like that, you can adjust it with the difficulty switches on the console. I used the default setting and I thought it worked surprisingly well. It helps that the combat is very satisfying. There’s a nice variety of enemy waves, and the game has actual levels, not to mention a whole other game world that plays much faster after you beat the boss.

This is the “boss” which takes not even one full second to defeat. That’s not an exaggeration. You should instantly win a half second after the stage begins. This is NOT a battle. It’s a glorified interactive ending designed to make sure players didn’t slip into a coma after the previous stage.

Now, having gushed all over Vanguard, it needs to be said that I previously had this pegged as the best Atari 2600 game. It’s not. Nah, and it’s not even that close, either. The levels are just too basic, and once you get over the excitement of a game that is THIS technically impressive.. no flicker, no slowdown, wide variety of enemies, different levels, etc.. you realize that Vanguard 2600 is almost as basic as a shmup can get. The level design is mostly just a straight line with all the lethal scenery off to the sides. In theory, you can die from being careless as you try to grab the ENERGY that grants you temporary invincibility, but I only did that once in four full tunnels. The most complicated level involves forks in the road and picking between two directions, but the game seems to play out the same no matter which way you pick. It’s not a very hard game at all, and honestly, it feels like letting the players rack up a high body count is kind of the point. It’s almost like a zone-out, popping bubble-wrap type of shmup. It’s not the type of game you have to pay attention to while you play it. Is it fun? Yes, actually. Does it hold up to the test of time? Almost certainly not for repeated play. BUT, I do think what’s in Vanguard is satisfying enough for one complete two circuit trip. Plus, while I don’t take historic context into account, I do admit it’s always fun watching a genre emerge from gaming’s primordial soup.
Verdict: YES!

Vanguard
Platform: Atari 5200
Year: 1983
Designed by Tom Calderwood

Hey look! You don’t just fly a straight line in most stages! Always nice!

Vanguard 5200 is a genuine, no-strings-attached improvement over the Atari 2600 version, and one of the best games on the entire Atari 5200. If the VCS port feels like witnessing the shmup genre crawling out of the primordial soup of gaming, then Vanguard 5200 is like witnessing the first time a great ape began walking on two legs. There’s actual level design, with stage elements to dodge around, the boss is a legitimate challenge. You still only need to hit it with a single bullet, and the first time I fought it, I once again beat it in less than one second (yes, I really checked). The second time around, I needed a while before I got the winning shot off. I finally realized what the actual challenge is. The boss has two barriers with a small hole in them, and you have to shoot when those two holes align.

That is one angry looking lady bug.

Oh, and you actually have to press a button to fire to shoot, which I find helps with immersion. I think it’s unlikely a space ship would just automatically fire its weapons. Seems like someone could get hurt doing something like that. Vanguard is still pretty simplistic, with some levels still being just straight (albeit narrow) corridors. Oh, and only one level actually is vertical, with the rest being horizontal or diagonal. It’s not incredible by any stretch of the imagination, but it holds up to the test of time and probably contends for the best game on the Atari 5200. It helps that the blazing sense of speed stays around this time, instead of going away after every-other cycle. I’ve been really tough on the Atari 5200 over the course of Indie Gamer Chick’s Atari 50 Saga, but games like Vanguard 5200 show why that is: because the 5200 is capable of great gameplay. This is a pretty good effort and I’m so happy I found it.
Verdict: YES!

Venture
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Joseph R. Biel

This isn’t a real screenshot of Venture. The Atari 2600 port of Venture uses flicker, and it’s one of those games where individual screenshots don’t make any sense. I had to sort of stitch multiple captures together for this to work. Anyway, there’s a few changes from the arcade version, like the moving walls in this one being lethal to the touch. That’s not from the arcade game. Which, frankly, isn’t as good as I originally believed, either.

Venture is sort of like Berzerk with an actual point and stuff to do. There’s two levels, each with four rooms. You start on an overworld and have to dodge Space Invaders-looking enemies while you make your way to the rooms. Once you enter the door, you’re placed in a room with three enemies (except in the picture above, where there’s moving walls to dodge) that you have to either shoot or dodge. The rooms have a treasure that you must get and exit in a timely manner. If you take too long, a dragon appears and tries to kill you. It’s actually genuinely startling when it appears. A lot more frightening than the evil emoji from Berzerk. Once you get all four treasures, you move to the next level. After two levels, the game cycles up in difficulty and you just repeat the process until you run out of lives.

One thing about the arcade game is the enemies practically teleport away from your bullets. It’s annoying. Here, they don’t actively dodge, and it leaves this too easy, regardless of whether you tinker with the difficulty switches.

Sigh. Yea, this one hurts. You see, the first time I played Venture, I thought it was one of the best Atari 2600 games, and one of the most ambitious. It made me want to check out the arcade game, which further blew me away. Well, I just played both again, and they didn’t hold up to repeat playing at all. I’ll get to the arcade game sometime in the coming months, but as for the Atari 2600 game, it’s just repetitive and dull. The enemies don’t fire, and so they just sort of slither around. Weirdly, their bodies linger on the screen after you kill them and remain deadly if you touch them. It theory, that should add challenge, since the bodies can block your path to the treasure and eat up time, thus putting the dragon into play. In reality, it’s just annoying. I just spent the last forty minutes playing this over and over, and while the dragon did appear frequently, it never came close to me. I had already gotten the treasure and was heading out the door. Even toggling the difficulty switches (which weirdly can skip you to the second level to start) doesn’t do enough. The action gets faster, but you also seem to gain speed, so it’s a wash. God, I spent all this time looking forward to revisiting Venture. It was neat finding it a couple years ago, but it’s just a toothless bore now.
Verdict: NO!

E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial: The Definitive Review (Atari 2600 Review)

E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial
Platform: Atari 2600
Year: 1982
Designed by Howard Scott Warshaw
Published by Atari
NEVER BEEN RE-RELEASED

If you’re a gaming critic who covers retro games, E.T. is like a gas station bathroom: everybody, at least once in their life, reaches the point where they can’t hold it anymore. You just have to plug your nose, think happy thoughts, lay toilet paper across the seat, and remember that you normally deal with more pleasant crap-based experiences.

I was around 13 when my Dad decided I was now old enough and experienced enough watching movies that I could finally appreciate just how epic Plan 9 From Outer Space was in failure. He hyped to my mother and me how delightfully awful it was, like that was a good thing. Like it was so putrid that it would practically be life altering to see it. Then we watched it, and Mom and me were.. just really bored. I tried it again in my early 20s after we watched the biographical Ed Wood film. Surely now I was film savvy enough to laugh at the jaw-droppingly bad acting, complete with flubs making it into the final film. And the cheap sets that sometimes fell over. And the on-the-nose dialog that makes you feel bad for the people reciting it. And the fact that Wood’s dentist stood in for Bela Lugosi despite not even vaguely looking like him. Well, the second go around, we didn’t even finish the movie. I disagree firmly with the “so bad it’s good” tag. It’s just bad, and honestly, I don’t think it’s that interesting, really. Certainly not enough to be THE WORST MOVIE EVER MADE! It’s not. I was reminded of that when I played E.T. The ExtraTerrestrial for the Atari 2600. It’s been cited as the worst game ever made so often that a game critic saying “no, it’s not really THAT bad” is practically a rite of passage. Now, it’s my turn. E.T. for the Atari 2600 isn’t really THAT bad. It’s just very boring.

There are ROM hacks out there that eliminate the majority of the pits. Instead, I opted to play the standard retail version, and then used emulation options like Save States and Rewind. It certainly made the pits better. Not so much falling in the first time, but the falling BACK in part. That I would undo. Did it make the game better? Well, I was able to finish it faster and therefore I wasn’t bored playing it as much with cheating as I was without it.

And it’s not even complicated boring. The object is to locate three pieces of your phone and then, well, phone home. To find the phone pieces, you have to deliberately fall into the various pits in the game, then stretch your neck and hover out. Most of the pits are empty, and whether they are or not, it’s a slow climb out. Of course, you’ll just as often fall into pits accidentally, since they’re all over. It’s such an obviously doomed-for-failure play mechanic to begin with, and that’s before you get to having the threat of falling right back into the hole hanging over you. Hoo boy. Yea, it’s not so much the falling in pits that wrecks ET. It’s sheer volume of them (too many) AND how easy it is to fall back into ones you just climbed out of (too easy). Now, I also did play several rounds of E.T. without rewinding or save states, and that’s where I realized it was the falling back into the pits that really destroys the game. This could have been fixed by having you not be able to fall back into the same pit you were just in without leaving the screen first. Or hell, just have each pit fill-up once you hover out of them, permanently. That doesn’t fix everything but it would sure take the edge off. Which is like saying the benefit to losing a leg in a traffic accident is that doctors won’t be stingy with the percocets.

Stranger danger! Stranger danger!

Of course, in the event you DO fix the game (and some people have), the entire premise was flawed beyond the pits. It’s basically an Easter egg hunt game. As you walk about the map, you’ll find these “power points” that are signaled at the top of the screen, which can do things like summon Elliot to give him the delicious Reese’s Pieces™ The Official Candy of E.T.™ you collect to score points, or use the Reese’s Pieces™ The Official Candy of E.T.™ to restore your life. But there’s non-product-placement hot spots too. Some tell you if a phone piece is located in a pit on that screen, while clicking others makes the human characters retreat to their homes. To win at E.T., once you have the three phone pieces, you have to search around the map to find the randomly-generated spot where you phone home, then go to the starting screen and click the correct spot on the ground. That doesn’t sound too bad, but then the rules get in the way. You can neither phone home nor catch the spaceship if any humans are on the screen, and they’re relentless. The FBI guys will take a piece of your phone if they touch you while scientists will take you to the building screen. While you can click spaces to make them walk back to their spots, the timing is practically left up to chance as to whether any will show up when you’re trying to catch the space ship. It’s so annoying.

You know what? If nothing else, I’m happy I can say I finished a round of E.T. both with cheating and without it. I’m not so happy I put a couple hours of playtime into getting there, but hey, it’s done. I played it all the way through, and I never have to do it ever again. Until I review the ROM hack, which knowing me, I’ll probably end up doing.

I ended up playing this FOR HOURS. I wanted to finish it multiple times, with and without cheating, so that I could speak on this with some level of authority. In my non-cheating sessions, I honestly worried I wouldn’t finish it. I even game overed a few times because I couldn’t find the spot to phone home. I ended up walking back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, falling into pits, then falling back into pits I just f’n climbed out of, sometimes three or four times, or getting touched by the FBI guys and having to find my phone again. It turned ET into a game that was something like mowing a lawn. Just walking straight lines across the screen, watching for the icon, and hoping against hope I’d see the little Space Invader icon that lets you phone home. It makes me wonder if it’s possible for it to randomly generate in an unreachable area of the screen, like the middle of a pit or something? I even played the children’s mode (mode 3) that’s missing the FBI/Scientist guy, and couldn’t find the phone home icon. I consulted the instruction book, wondering “is there a step I’m missing that I accidentally did without realizing it when I cheated?” There wasn’t. And I never did end up finding it that round. When I finally DID win a round without cheating, it felt like it happened because the gaming Gods took pity on me and I found the icon just as soon as I stepped off the starting screen.

It looks like that either E.T. has an outie or he has rigor mortis in more than one way.

So, now you can add me to the list of game critics who wrote disappointing E.T. reviews. If you aspire to be entertaining while doing your work, E.T. doesn’t lend itself to that as much as you’d think it does. I’m not the biggest Angry Video Game Nerd fan out there (awesome games though, read my review), but the man was able to create an entire movie where the final punchline was E.T., his most requested review, wasn’t even interesting enough to do an entertaining review out of. It’s a really bad game, but not in a funny way or a compelling way. Having now put quality time into it, I don’t think this ever had potential. E.T. was dead on arrival, which would have been caught early-on, except Warner Bros. made a very expensive deal guaranteeing an E.T. game would release in time for Christmas of 1982 under the presumption that games are delivered by the game stork. Atari removed every safeguard that could have helped make this a better game, or outright smothered it in the crib. Howard Scott Warshaw was called on July 27, 1982. The final game was due September 1. It’s not like they had modern development tools, especially for a game that wasn’t a reskinning or recycling of a previous engine. So, he had 36 days to create a game based on the most successful movie ever made up to that point. There was no market research or focus testing done, so they didn’t get feedback from their target audience. Another hugely underrated aspect of what went wrong was other Atari designers didn’t get an opportunity to provide feedback. Warshaw was under such a time crunch that he couldn’t stop his work to let anyone else play it. Remember, that type of feedback turned a first-person Space Invaders knock-off into Tempest, a game that might be Atari’s best coin-op.

My sister, an E.T. FANATIC, is beside herself over the fact that they made an E.T. video game without flying bicycles. Without exaggeration, her jaw dropped. She thought I was messing with her. “It’s one of the most iconic scenes in film history, and they didn’t do the flying bikes? That would be like doing a Back to the Future game without the DeLorean.”

I don’t blame Warshaw one bit. His record of quality Atari 2600 games speaks for itself. Hell, even a game he did that never came out during the VCS’s natural life cycle, Saboteur, is really good. Frankly, if YOU were in charge of Atari in 1982 and you had to choose one guy from your roster to pull this off, he’s exactly who you would have called. As far as the concept goes, with new types of video games, you can’t know if something will work until you make it. Had this been anything BUT E.T., this never would have come out. It would have been killed in the alpha stage. But, contracts were signed, a deal was done, and this HAD to come out. You know what my takeaway from this whole thing is? E.T. was a lesson the industry had to learn: games don’t just make themselves. The people who made the E.T. deal at Warner had absolutely no appreciation for the development process, and they didn’t even care to learn about it. It’s not like the nerds who made these games were REAL artists, like movie makers. I mean, that’s what the attitude was. Really. Mind you, this is a film studio where Superman III was in production at the very same time this entire story went down. Frankly, it was high time for a few execs to learn a lesson on how games are made. Sure, not everyone leaned their lesson, which is how the world works. To this day, clueless execs will still say “you need your licensed game in three months? NO PROBLEM!” But, many more stop and think about E.T. before signing licensing deals based on unreasonable deadlines. It happens more than you think. Someone had to make THAT game. That “we don’t want to be THAT game” game.

In a COMPLETELY, TOTALLY, 100% UNRELATED TO THIS GAME OR REVIEW aside, this was around the time Warner Bros. signed a four-picture deal with Steven Spielberg to direct two movies and produce two movies. Those movies ended up being Gremlins and Goonies, which he produced, along with the Color Purple and the Empire of the Sun, both of which were prestige films he directed. Yet, the biggest check he got from Warner Bros. in the 1980s, by far, was the $20,000,000 to $25,000,000 in 1982 dollars he was paid for the rights to the E.T. game. That’s $60M – $65M today. Why, if one didn’t know better, they’d think Warner Communication massively overpaid with a contract from their most profitable division, one they thought was bulletproof, as a dangled carrot to secure his services for a completely different division.

It just plain sucks that, in terms of damage to reputation, the person who got stuck with the check was one of the greats in Howard Scott Warshaw. You can’t fault his ambition, time crunch or not. Famously, Spielberg said “why can’t it just be like Pac-Man?” when he heard the pitch from Warshaw, which to me signals that even the pitch sounded boring. Warshaw has since said that, in retrospect, Spielberg had a point. No, Howard, don’t do that. I do think Warshaw made the right call in not wanting yet another maze chase. I rather admire that he ignored Spielberg’s plea, actually. Took guts. I just sort of wish he had instead built off Atari’s Superman game. They’re in the same boat: abstract, fetch-quest adventure games where nothing looks quite like it’s supposed to. But, Superman holds up to the test of time (see Part One of Atari 50: The Games They Couldn’t Include – Definitive Review for that review). Barely, but barely counts, and I’d honestly love to play a remake of it that builds off that title’s core gameplay. I never want to play anything like E.T. ever again. Period. I finally figured out why it’s so singled-out: it has no charm. I think that’s why it and Pac-Man did as much damage as they did. It’s not simply that they’re bad, but they’re not even endearing for it, like so many bad Atari games can be. Fittingly, they’re both games that had no consideration for quality or gamers. They were given mandated deadlines by executives who knew nothing about game development, because they didn’t understand good games from bad games anyway, and people buy the name, not the game, right? E.T. isn’t the worst game ever, but I’m actually okay with it wearing that title, because at least gaming might be overall better off for it.
Verdict: NO!

Mario Clash (Review)

Mario Clash
Platform: Virtual Boy
Released September 28, 1995
Directed by Toru Osawa and Hiroyuki Kimura
Developed by Nintendo
Available March 10, 2026 on Switch Online Expansion Pack*

*Requires Virtual Boy accessories.

Hell, why not? It’s been a little over two years since I played through the entire Virtual Boy library in one of my Twitter-based retro runs. I do have a Virtual Boy story: I wanted to try the demo one at a store, because I was 6-years-old and Virtual Reality was supposed to be the wave of the future. I imagined in my head that it would be like entering another world. But, the display unit had so many warnings on it about eye-strain, warnings about extended usage, and warnings about headaches that my parents vetoed it. That was 1995. Now, in 2023, my eyes are sore from playing a version of it that I didn’t have to shove my eyeballs into. Good call on not letting me play this, Mom & Dad! Good call. I remember very distinctly watching my Dad poking his head into the display unit, messing around with it for like thirty seconds, then taking his head out. He shook his head with a smirk and a giggle, which is his way of saying “well, that was crap.” He’s nice. No clue what happened with me.

Sign here _______ and initial here ___ to opt out of your eye coverage. You’re now free to enjoy the media of this review.

Despite the device’s reputation, I found two VB games I felt were worthy of recommending. One of these days, I’ll do a full review of Wario Land Virtual Boy, which was easily the best game in that run. But, the thing is, there’s been other Wario Land games in the years since. Lots more. And then there’s Mario Clash, which I certainly overrated my first time around. Originally, I walked away thinking this was really good, and that people who disliked it were out of their minds. Having now replayed it, it ain’t all that. It’s just barely okay. I think it stood out so much the first time around because Mario Clash is this weird first-party Nintendo anomaly where nothing like it has been attempted since. That’s especially strange for two reasons. #1: Mario Clash is a okay game that could be a great game, with the right adjustments. #2: Nintendo made a handheld platform, the 3DS, that seems like it would have been match made in heaven for it. But, it didn’t happen. In fact, it’s been almost thirty years, and Nintendo hasn’t attempted another game in this formula since. I don’t know if that’s because Mario Clash got a mixed-to-negative reception or because it’s too simple a premise.

I was 6 when Virtual Boy came out, but I never have used a real one. I didn’t even have interest in gaming until Santa Claus brought me the original PlayStation with Crash Bandicoot for Christmas in 1996. I kid you not, that is EXACTLY 500 days after Virtual Boy released in North America. Cosmic.

Mario Clash is such a weird name to begin with for what is basically a direct sequel to Mario Bros. As in the 1983 Nintendo coin-op that occasionally shows up as a mini-game in other Mario releases. All indications are that’s what this was originally going to be too. When Virtual Boy was shown off in playable form to the public for the first time in 1995 at the Consumer Electronics Show, one of the launch games announced was called VB Mario Land. Apparently, even though what screenshots are out there look nothing like Virtual Boy Wario Land (including a shot that looks like a Zelda-like dungeon), that single-level demo was retooled into Wario Land VB, while the mini-game for it was expanded into the very game I’m reviewing. Essentially an extended tech demo/proof of concept for the Virtual Boy’s stereoscopic 3D, Mario Clash’s combat is basically Mario Bros. with an extra plane of existence. I’ve never liked Mario Bros. I think it controls crappy and is a repetitive, sloggy grind. Mario Clash CAN be repetitive, and the level design can lead to a frustratingly slow pace, yet the combat is so cathartic that it never truly becomes boring. It just, you know, tries boring on to see if it fits.

Such a shame they never made a first-person Terminator game on Virtual Boy.

Mario Clash levels each have a foreground and a background. Instead of tipping-over enemies by bumping the ground under them, the object is to grab turtle shells and hit the sides of enemies by throwing the shell across the planes. There’s a pretty sharp learning curve when it comes to lining up your shot. You can only use the turtle shells to attack all the enemies that matter in the game (the turtles don’t), which you get by jumping on them. Then, it’s a matter of figuring out the right angle to attack. You can either wait for the enemies to line-up, or you can go through the pipes to switch between planes. You can attack from either side of the screen, though it’s not remotely intuitive. If you score a hit, the enemy might become dazed, but many require additional hits to kill. Once an enemy is dazed, you can simply kick it off the ledge, or you can also charge-up your shell’s potency by throwing it again to eliminate the stunned enemy. Shells can be caught on the rebound if you score a hit, and doing so charges up how far the shell can travel if thrown horizontally instead of between the planes, which can also be used to eliminate enemies and earn scoring multipliers. It’s incredibly weird that the multipliers are tied to the 2D attack, since the whole point of this is the multiplaned gameplay, but it’s satisfying to eliminate a whole string of enemies so I’m fine with that.

I don’t think any game I’m prepared to award my Seal of Approval to is more sloggy than Mario Clash. When it has a slow pace, it’s agonizing. BUT, when it cooks, it’s incredibly rewarding.

Of course, if you miss, or if you don’t catch the shell on the rebound, you have to stomp one of the continuously spawning Koopas to get another shell. In the interest of full disclosure, I didn’t play this in 3D. I can’t. It’s a strict epilepsy no-no. But, from everything I’ve heard, figuring out the right angles to attack wasn’t intuitive whether the game is played in 3D or not. I was constantly missing my attacks, which slowed the game down to a halt. There really needed to be more Koopas, and OTHER ways to get shells or ammo to attack enemies. Most importantly, the action needed to be sped up by having changing planes be done much quicker. It can be sooooooo slow. I can totally get why some people despise Mario Clash. No game I’ve ever reviewed teeter-totters between an exhilarating YES! and an angry NO! quite like it. When it sucks, it’s so obviously bad with such self-evident means to correct the mistakes that I can’t believe Nintendo released this in the shape it’s in. I’ve already talked about this, but I want to once against stress that being able to seamlessly switch from foreground to background, like you can do off springs in some sections of Wario Land VB, would have fixed 90% of Mario Clash’s issues and probably made it Nintendo’s undisputed best post-arcade arcade-style game. And that’s just the start of Clash’s problems.

One thing I appreciated is the ability to skip ahead up to 40 levels without a code. This feature was added because this is a long and slow game and not really meant to be “beaten” or explored in-depth in a single sitting. On a platform that literally pauses itself in short intervals to spare you from retina damage. Really, there’s no way to put a positive spin on Virtual Boy. It has to be one of the all-time “WHAT WERE THEY THINKING?” moments in gaming history.

There’s too many ice levels. In a game about precision aiming, having entire stages where you slip and slide across the frozen platforms makes lining up to get your shots hair-pulling levels of frustrating. This is further compounded on packed levels, where finding time to get off a shot without having to worry about getting tagged by either another enemy or the Mario Bros.-like fireballs that occasionally spawn from the pipes is like a war of attrition. It got to the point where every time I heard the ice-theme play instead of the stage’s normal theme, a chill went down my spine.. which you have to admit is fitting. Also, while the enemies mostly all are really good, there’s one I found especially annoying: these little tank things that throw projectiles at you. The stuff they throw can intercept your shell, and since only two Koopas (or shells in total) can be on the screen at once, they become VERY annoying to fight.

Virtual Boy is a tragic system, because the graphics are almost universally excellent in it, as long as you ignore that they only come in shades of red. There’s such a delightful irony that a console marketed for its stereoscopic 3D effect features some of Nintendo’s all-time best 2D sprites. This and Wario Land VB have incredible character and enemy models loaded with personality. Hmmph. It’s a crying shame is what it is.

Yet, all the other enemies I actually liked. I love how they all have a gimmick, but retain their balance. The crabs that have to be hit horizontally, then from across the screen was genius, and there’s something so satisfying about jumping up and throwing a shell right in the direction of the camera, from the background to the foreground, and nailing a Boo mid-air, then jumping back up and catching the rebounding shell. Part of me thinks the issues with aiming could be fixed with an aim guide, but moments like that wouldn’t be as good if you had an on-screen indicator of where you’re aiming. Despite the sense of frustration when you miss, there’s this subtle elegance about Mario Clash’s enemy design, its potential for chaos, and how the combat plays out that hasn’t really been done since. That’s what makes it stand out nearly three full decades removed. When you hit your shots, it feels great, and that’s owed in no small part to the TA DAH noise that increases in pitch with every consecutive shot you hit. This is a great example of marrying graphics, animation, and sound design to create OOMPH, my pet term for video game violence feeling impactful, like it has real-world weight to it. That’s why, despite Mario Clash seemingly wanting to be a hard game to love, I still enjoyed my replay of it.

I have no clue if the bonus rounds play better in 3D. Given that the aiming is apparently bad no matter how you play it, I imagine not. No, you’ll never shake the feeling that you’re playing a tech demo. In fact, this is so tech demoish that I can’t believe they didn’t pack this with Virtual Boy. I think they realized their lineup sucked and the best chance to minimize losses was to sell a game one-to-one with it, so they sold Mario Clash separately. No clue if it worked or not. No matter how good or bad Mario Clash was, it WASN’T the Mario game anyone would have wanted. I can’t help but wonder if they had gone through with the VB Mario Land game if Virtual Boy would have sold better. It looks fun!

Don’t get me wrong: when Mario Clash bottoms out, it can be dull. Never bad, but just.. very, very dull. Honestly, it could be so dull that I went through periods of playing this not even sure if I’d ultimately award it my Seal of Approval, and ultimately I had to think very hard about my “did I have more fun than not” rule. For Mario Clash, it’s more like 50.0000001% good, but that’s still good enough. Win or lose, I really wish that either Nintendo would take another crack at this formula, and add co-op because this would KILL as a co-op game. If they have no interest.. and apparently they don’t.. hopefully some day an indie developer will file the serial numbers off it and create a tribute game with a faster pace. There is something here that’s incredible. Unfortunately, it’s hard to figure out what exactly that is, because it’s poking its head out from raw sewage and nobody wants to get close enough to figure it out.

Mario Clash is Chick-Approved

Mario Clash was developed by Nintendo

Skate Cat (NES Indie Review)

The lead designer on Skate Cat is a 10 year old kid. As opposed to many indies I’ve reviewed that were by overgrown children. Actually the kid in question, SJ, has shown a lot more class than I’ve gotten from many grown-up developers. Him and his papa requested this review and sent along the final game ROM, which will be available on NES Cart and Itch.io eventually. I warned them that, if we do this, it has to be a full Indie Gamer Chick review. That means no holding back. Full, unfiltered feedback. SJ Games wants to become an elite game developer eventually, and we all agreed for me to go forward with the review. Brought a tear to my eye. I mean, come on. How can you not feel good about the future of gaming with a new generation of developers coming along like that? So be it, young man! Let’s do the review.

Oh God, I’m using terms like “young man” now. I’m getting old.

Welcome to game development, SJ! Where people who have never made a game and will never make a game tell you how to make games. You’re going to love it so much.

Skate Cat is a basic platformer, and honestly, there isn’t a lot to critique because the game is pretty bare-bones. A move left, jump over pits, jump on enemies, beat a boss type of game. The hook is you’re a cat on a skateboard. The best part about Skate Cat is it does charm right. It’s a game that has personality, which is what you need to get people to want to like it. Unfortunately, I didn’t quite get there. I didn’t hate Skate Cat or even close. If the Indie Gamer Chick Leaderboard included games that didn’t win my Seal of Approval, this wouldn’t be anywhere near the bottom. In fact, it’d be really close to the middle. It doesn’t really do anything I’d call a “deal breaker” but it also doesn’t really do anything to elevate itself over middle-of-the-pack. For every element of a level I enjoyed, there was one I didn’t.

These massive “last pixel jumps” are the main challenge in Skate Cat, and there’s too many of them.

The jumping has a steep learning curve to it. Skate Cat has snappy, low-angle jumping physics and most of the challenge comes from your leaping limitations. Skate Cat overly relies on last-pixel jumping, which is to say gaps that require you to wait to execute the jump until you reach the far edge of a cliff. It used this to such a degree that I found myself just last-pixel-jumping every jump that looked big, whether I needed to or not. I’ve never liked that in any game, because it turns platforming into a game of chicken. Like you’re trying to figure out who will blink first: you or the gap you’re jumping over. When Skate Cat relies on zig-zagging through terrain or doing timed-jumping sections, I enjoyed those fine. Actually, I thought the stage that took place in the forest was a strong level, and I was smiling contently as I hopped across falling leaves and avoided the quills of porcupines. There’s some genuinely good moments in Skate Cat, and not just for a game by a kid. No, the kid actually proved he can bring quality gameplay to the table. It’s why I can’t go easy on him. He’s got talent.

Now THAT’S the good stuff, kiddo.

Really, that’s what the whole game should have been: a twitchy, reactionary platformer with skateboard-based combat. When you get the hang of the jumping.. and it took me the whole play session on normal mode to do so.. I found the best moments were the ones where I didn’t have to stop moving. Those felt like they took advantage of the skateboard theme. Not that I wanted this to be like.. say.. the skateboard from Adventure Island games (which I can’t stand at all), but certainly I think the theme calls for a fast pace and quick reflexes. But, in the final two levels of the game, Skate Cat start to rely to heavily on electric gates, and the game grinds to a halt. See what I did there? Grinds? I’m down with the skate lingo. See, I’m not old yet. Anyway, there’s too much waiting around, and it becomes kind of boring. You can use an obstacle like that a couple times, but two levels full of them becomes tedious. Especially when the action was really cooking leading into that section.

This section would be fine, but Skate Cat over-uses the gates to an ever bigger degree than the last pixel jumps. So, by time you get to this area, you’re already over having them.

Finally, the combat isn’t really that good. You don’t get an attack at all in the first level and have to just avoid the enemies. After every level, you get a new skateboard, the first of which introduces the ability to jump on enemies. But, the enemies just lack satisfactory OOMPH to defeat. They blink out of existence with a thump and not enough pomp. Then, the game adds a kick-flip, and this is where it really goes off the rails. The timing for when to hit it feels inconsistent, and I just as often took damage myself instead of hitting enemies. In the hoverboard stage (yep, Mattel pink and everything!) I lost a life to an enemy trying to figure out where exactly I was supposed to hit it. I’m not even sure you can hit it without taking damage yourself. Since it takes three hits to kill, maybe the implication is supposed to be that it’s an enemy to avoid. Ironically, the enemy was used correctly: to complement the tight squeeze of that level’s environmental hazards, which is why it probably shouldn’t have been able to take damage at all.

I like that this section also goes slower, as space should. It’s a nice little touch in a game that needed a lot more little touches. Like, for example, the cat always has the same face on, even when attacking. His eyes blink and he’ll frown when you take damage, but that’s not enough. You can sell the combat with as little a detail as making the cat have an aggressive face when you attack. Same with the enemies. Having a “defeated” sprite instead of blinking out of existence can really make the combat feel more satisfying, because it feels like you’re affecting the game world and not just scrolling a bit map right. Often, it’s the small details you barely notice that makes a game memorable. I know that sounds counterintuitive, but it’s true.

Skate Cat isn’t a bad game by any means. I don’t even feel comfortable calling it below average, because I think it rises above that. It’s totally average, and simply didn’t do any one thing that sealed this as a must-play game. It’s a really short game. It contains four levels, each level with two sections. The whole thing takes fifteen to twenty minutes tops. The highlight is probably the four boss battles, which are fine enough, but also just right in the middle. On the other hand, a 10 year old managed to make a complete twenty minute-long platformer without a single major flaw, and one that managed to actually bring some pretty good gameplay in small doses. My advice to SJ now would be that you got most of the basics down. Work on play control first. The controller should vanish in your hand. Movement and physics should be intuitive by the end of the first level. The less players have to think about what they’re doing, the more immersed they become.

You know.. I really thought it would be another decade or so before I was reviewing games by developers younger than IndieGamerChick.com is. I’m going to go have a pity cry as soon as I finish this review.

After that, get really creative with the level design. Remember that video games are a series of small moments that add up to one big experience. Really, that’s my advice to all developers: if you have the mentality of designing moments and not levels, you’ll do great. The hopping across the falling leaves part? That’s an enjoyable, satisfying moment. So were the parts where you hopped across the sewers, and the teleporters in the fourth level. You want to be careful repeating those moments. Think of each section as a self-contained challenge, and then just merge the ending of that part with the beginning of the next, so it seamlessly leads into the next moment. Stick to that, and you’ll be fine. Hey, SJ? You’re going to do great. Stick with this game design thing, and don’t give up. You’re going to make it, kid. And when they award you best director of a video game some day, you’ll be able to thank me in the acceptance speech. “I’d like to dedicate this award to Indie Gamer Chick. We all miss her, god rest her soul. It’s still hard to believe she’s gone. Eaten by rhinoceros. Terrible way to go.”

Skate Cat is not Chick-Approved

Skate Cat was developed by SJ Games
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NEScape! (NES Indie Review)

“Oh GOD, she’s doing another escape game.” Yea, in case you haven’t noticed, my family is obsessed with escape rooms, including mail-order “escape crates” and board games that are functionally single-use mysteries that may or may not be destroyed in the process of playing them. Hell, they even make Clue-branded ones now. Of course, our favorites are the actual brick & mortar ones. They’re like real life video games. It’s you, your friends and/or family, and a room full of puzzles. The object is to just get out the door, typically within a one hour time limit. Taking an experience that’s supposed to replicate the feel of a video game IN REAL LIFE and putting it in, well, a video game, seems redundant, but I’m so happy they exist. Escape Rooms can be hell of expensive (we spend usually $100 to $150 per one hour session). Not only do video escape rooms let people test the waters to see if this is the type of thing they’d like to go try, but they’re cost-efficient too! But, they have to be done right. Escape Simulator has shown how (just stay away from the user rooms unless you like old-school adventure video games since that’s what users tend to do with the engine). And hell, they don’t even need to be truly 3D or “high tech” to do well. Look at Cape’s Escape Games on Nintendo Switch. We’ve enjoyed them all, along with the Japanese Escape Game series that uses basically the same interface but is apparently a different company. There’s also tons of 3D escape rooms of, shall we say, less than stable build quality. About the only thing the Vice Family has not attempted is an 8-bit escape room. Until now.

Even the title screen is a puzzle. Thankfully, you can skip it if.. likely WHEN.. you need to replay the game.

I wanted to like this so much. Going into NEScape, I figured it’d be a novelty-at-best experience. Hey, it’s the Escape Room phenomena, only as a Nintendo Entertainment System cartridge. But, my expectations were quickly tempered. There were a few warning signs, the first of which was the hideous cover art that looked like absolutely no thought or consideration was put into it. At the point of sale, your first impression is the cover/logo for your game. You’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but when the cover art looks like this:

.. yea, that’s a red flag. Why not have 8-bit pixel art showing escape room elements? That’s the point of the game, right? The only reason you’d want to play it: an 8-bit escape room on the NES. Not only that, but there are people who specifically like pixel art style games. I’m one of them. But, if I had seen this on the store page, I’m not entirely sure I’d of clicked the page to see what the graphics actually look like. Not with this cover. Just having “NES” in the name isn’t enough. Yes, that’s an incredibly nit-picky thing to whine about, but a pet peeve of mine is bad cover art. It bothers me even for games I don’t like. You went through all the effort of making a video game, and THIS is the first impression you want to make at the point of sale? NEScape actually has really good graphics as far as NES Indies go, but you wouldn’t know it from this.

So, that was ominous sign of the type of consideration that went into making this. But the real canary in the coalmine was the instruction book’s warning about time running out and how not to give up, because you’ll make it a little further every time. Oh dear. Yes, hour time limits are the primary challenge in real escape rooms. But, strict time limits should not carry over to video game escape rooms. Among other reasons, real rooms have a better user interface. It’s called reality. You don’t have to figure out the controls of reality. You just act. You can pick stuff up and examine it with your own hands. You can move about freely. You can focus on whatever you want to without having to move a cursor around to switch rooms or click on objects to get a close look. Escape Rooms also need the time limit because they’re a business that has to do multiple sessions every day to be economically viable. On days where they’re not jam-packed or have no walk-ins, most generally allow players to continue past the time limit if they fail (especially if they’re close to the end). Strict time limits only make sense in real rooms on busy days.

There’s four “rooms” to look at (hypothetically one room with four sides. This house wasn’t made by Thomas Jefferson). There’s a curve to figuring out where to click to advance to the next room.

In the non-corporeal world of video games, you DO have to fumble with interfaces. You DO have to fumble with a cursor. You DO have to fumble with navigation, like where exactly on the screen you click to change rooms. You DO have to fumble with item usage. You DO have to fumble with what’s clicklable and what isn’t. Video games are always going to be more clunky, and you have to take that into account. NEScape doesn’t at all. It seems to expect players to fail and then start over from the beginning. That’s why the instruction book says this:

By the way, that design logic is fine.. provided you make a game that’s fun to get back to the part you died on. An escape room is almost never going to be that, randomized puzzles or not. You already know what item you use on what thing, and that part doesn’t change. Even the random elements won’t matter because it’s not WHAT the solution is but how to come to that solution that’s the fun part. Staring over from the beginning and working your back to the part you lost on is just a chore, and it’s going to be a longer chore every single time you fail. Well, NEScape goes strictly by the timer. The moment it runs out, you return to the title screen. They didn’t even do an alarm or a gong or anything. I mean, come on! It’d be like a Mario game without the death animation and fail music. Have a little pomp to your game! I’m surprised they didn’t have a buzzer, because the one good thing I can say about NEScape, besides having good graphics, is that it has pretty good sound design too. I really liked that the game changes to a different chip tune every time the lights dramatically cut-out to signify a major turning point in the ultimate puzzle. That’s a great idea and I hope other video escape rooms do something similar. But, that’s where my complements end.

Ah, video game logic. There’s a piggy bank and you need to open it. In the wacky world of video games, you need to find a hammer. In real life, piggy banks have a cork in the bottom that you can use to get the money out. Everybody knows this. Also, the ground exists. Why bother with a hammer when you’re presumably a person and not ghost. Just pick it up and throw it against the ground, right?

Another red flag was that the press kit I got for this game also included a complete walk-through, along with the solutions to every puzzle. Uh.. seriously? You don’t have to use it. We didn’t, and in fact, full disclosure: we didn’t finish the room. We played the game earlier this week and quit on the sliding puzzle when we got into an argument over what moves to make (yes, the guide has literal step-by-step instructions on how to solve that part, too). We fired it up a second time last night, but timed out late into the game. Look, I’m not above using a guide to beat a game. I do all the time. But it’s really, really rare for a developer of a game to send a step-by-step guide on how to beat the game to the people they’re presumably asking to evaluate it. Especially when that game has no action. They’re just puzzles, and when you tell someone how to solve the puzzle, that defeats the whole point of it, right? One of the most common mistakes indie developers make is telling play-testers how to play the game. Especially if they see the players get stuck or confused, or if the design is too obtuse. The correct way to do it is to just stand and watch, and not offer assistance even if the players ask for it, and then making adjustments based on OBSERVATION. Many people consider Portal to be the greatest video game ever made, and it got there because they watched play testers but offered no help to them. If they had done play testing THAT way, it wouldn’t be the intuitive masterpiece it is today. Unfortunately, many developers tend to hover over players and basically Mommy-them through the game. In eleven-and-a-half years of doing Indie Gamer Chick, I can’t remember a puzzle game developer sending me the game AND the solution to the game. “Ooooh.. that doesn’t sound promising” I thought when I saw that. And I was right.

If you’re deaf, you’re going to need the guide (in fact, I think the game should have a disclaimer saying as much on the store page). Some of the puzzles are based around sound, including digital voice samples that tell you the password for certain things. I don’t think any of the “random” elements are musically based, so you should be good there. In fact, having now read the guide (since I’m never playing this again, so screw it, why not?) the only random element is apparently a Simon game near the end.

NEScape isn’t exactly the most original escape game. The classics are all here. A puzzle where you have to tap the right piano keys? Check. A puzzle where you have to move the hands on a grandfather clock? Check. A puzzle where the solution is based on assessing the correct order of picture frames? Check. That’s not a knock, by the way. The classics are classics for a reason: they work. Hell, they’re probably the best puzzles in the game. If NEScape stuck to these, it’d make for a neat novelty game. Because that was the ceiling here. The creativity begins and ends with “..only this time, it’s for the NES!” And it’s not a particularly strong game on its own merits. There’s no story besides “I woke up in a room” which, fine, whatever. The puzzle is the attraction. But, instead of focusing on typical escape room logic, you also have to solve mini-games, and this is where it really falls apart.

It’s never a good thing when a game causes my normally docile family to erupt into a screaming match. The magic of sliding puzzles.

Like, early on, you have to do a sliding puzzle. For me, the attraction of escape rooms is doing them with my family. We all have a notepad, and we cooperate to solve the puzzles. You can’t do that with a sliding puzzle. You also can’t do that with a ball-in-a-maze tilt puzzle (one that even the guide advises you go slowly on). There’s even a “spot the difference” puzzle in this, and it’s one of the dumbest things I’ve seen in any game. For god’s sake: it’s 8-bit graphics and collision boxes in tiny windows we’re dealing with here. It wasn’t exactly QuickSpot. Like the other non-escape room stuff, it just stinks of busy work made to shave time off the clock and force replays. We still might have beat the clock, but during the fourth chapter, we ended up spending too much time trying to solve frame-swapping puzzle. At more than one point, we knew we must have solved it, but nothing happened. The design of it was.. well.. 8-bit enough that we weren’t 100% sure, so we kept tweaking it over and over.

This is the swap puzzle in question, which should not have been clickable until it was the next puzzle in the sequence.

Well, it turns out, that wasn’t supposed to be the next thing we did. What happened was the lights went out, and when they came back on, there was this nonsensical gibberish on the typewriter. We knew there was a clue in it, so Mom and Angela took a pic on her phones to study it while I exited the screen to explore. Upon exiting the typewriter, the telegraph tile-swap puzzle was right there and opened in the same room we were already in, so we worked on that. Unknown to us, a hammer had spawned in another room during the last interval, and the puzzle associated with THAT was the next puzzle we were supposed to do, with the telegraph not working until that part was completed. It’s the type of design logic that’s there to deliberately mislead you and shave time, which is what bad escape rooms do. Granted, this was made in 2019, where what’s called “red herring design” was more common. It’s a design trope the industry has largely phased out, because they learned people are more likely to become repeat customers from winning and not timing-out and coming back to do the same room again. But, for us, it was the final straw. You can do this type of “not this puzzle YET” design in real escape rooms because your party can split up. Divide and conquer. In video escape rooms, everyone is tied to one screen. Should we have explored first before wasting time on the puzzle? Maybe. But, that’s the risk the developer took on when they designed it that way: that they’d piss off the players for deliberately wasting time with the obvious attempt of forcing a restart.

Well, it does.

Do you know what I’ve noticed? My friends who actually liked NEScape were not escape room fans. Indie Gamer Team’s Aki liked it. My friend Daria liked it so much she considers it one of her favorite NES Indies. If you’re a fan of games like Shadowgate or Uninvited or Deja Vu, where dying and starting over is expected, you might like this a lot more than we did. Meanwhile, my family hated this so much that we went to an actual escape room this morning just to get the nasty taste of NEScape out of our mouth. This is a terrible video escape room. There was no point in the strict time limit. Hey chaps: the game wasn’t very fun to begin with. Forcing a from-the-start replay was going to be especially annoying with all the busy-work you created between the puzzles. WE considered restarting. In fact, Angela worked out the game’s typewriter puzzle while we sat around bitching about the red-herring, time-eating sequence issue. She was going to get us back to the spot we were on, but when she got to the sliding puzzle, she said “oh right.. I forgot about this stuff. Yea, I don’t want to do this stuff again.” C’est la vie!

This isn’t a puzzle. It’s a time sink. One that you have to heeltoe your way through to avoid having to restart it. These mini-games are what ultimately sealed NEScape’s fate for us. I can deal with clunky interfaces, and I can even deal with having to redo puzzles (stupid and self-destructive as that idea is). One thing I can’t deal with is being bored, and the greatest sin of NEScape is the padding it chose is BORING!

So, that was that. If the thought of replaying the same puzzles over and over again until you finally open the ultimate door sounds like a good time to you, hey, you might enjoy this, ya weirdo. We didn’t. If it had just stuck to the puzzles, this would have been fine, I guess. Certainly not great. The interface was too clunky to rise to that level. Unfortunately, NEScape set itself up for failure with the strict time limit, which forces you to replay mini-games I didn’t even want to do one time, let alone multiple times. And FYI, a strict time limit would have likely sunk Escape Simulator or the Cape’s Escape Games as well. This is especially true of Escape Simulator, which has a short timer. But, that game doesn’t end when you time out, nor are you penalized for it. It’s more of a high score or time trial type of thing. The mini-games weren’t the deal breakers by themselves, but they did make me dread that replay. When Escape Simulator, Cape’s Escape Games, or Japanese Escape games do mini-games, I find them annoying too.. BUT I’M NOT FORCED TO REPLAY THEM! Escape Rooms require a different mentality from other games. They’re one-and-done. Replay value is not expected, and I’m not sure the developers understood that staple of the genre. BUT, if you want replay value, the way to do it is by adding hidden objects. It’s not by forcing you to redo the same puzzles with the same solutions over and over. That’s not fun, and NEScape isn’t fun. Lock this one in a room and throw away the key.

NEScape is not Chick-Approved

NEScape! was developed by KHAN Games
Point of Sale: Nintendo Switch, Xbox, NES Cartridge (Coming Soon?)

$4.99 timed out in the making of this review.

A review copy for Nintendo Switch was provided for this review. Upon the game’s release, an Xbox copy was purchased by Indie Gamer Chick.

 

Arcade Archives: Vs. Balloon Fight (1984 Arcade Review)

Owwww. Ow ow ow ow ow. Owwie. My hands. My beautiful, bony hands. What the hell were they thinking with this one? Look, I’ve never been the biggest Balloon Fight fan in the world. Admittedly, I’m not a fan of Joust, either. So here’s a warning to fans: maybe take this review with a grain of salt. Balloon Fight has never been for me. But, it could be with enough twists to the formula, which is why Vs. Balloon Fight got my attention. Of all the Nintendo Vs. System coin-ops, Balloon Fight has the most profound change to the NES counterpart. Well, besides Vs. Duck Hunt, where you can shoot the dog in bonus rounds (though you’re not supposed to). It’s the same concept: flap your arms to fly, and then come crashing down on top of enemies to pop their balloons. After that, you then can hit them a second time as they parachute down, or kick them off the ledge once they land, Mario Bros.-style. So, yea, in a nutshell, Balloon Fight is really just Joust with an extra hit-point and parachutes instead of eggs. The big difference over its NES counterpart, besides having a lot more levels, is that Vs. Balloon Fight is not a single-screen game. In the coin-op, the size of the playfield is doubled vertically and you have to scroll the screen upwards. It makes for a more exciting, intense experience. Enemies might come flying out of nowhere (especially when bumpers are added after six stages) creating a chaotic atmosphere that somehow never feels cheap because you ought to know better than to leave yourself wide open from the unseen menaces above. It should be great!

Sigh.

Here comes the “but..” Like the Starks say: nothing counts before the “but.”

Vs. Balloon Fight has absolutely brutal gravity. The amount of flapping it requires is completely unreasonable by any standard. The NES version allows you to maneuver with a steady pulse of tapping the button. But, for a game that you’re expected to pay two bits per session, that won’t do at all. You have to absolutely button-mash to maintain your flight, Track ‘n Field-style. I’m not having a pity-party for myself here, but I literally physically cannot button mash to this degree anymore. Thankfully, my family, including my 12-year-old sister, also couldn’t believe how furiously you had to tap the buttons to maintain your flight. Again, I’m not a fan of the NES version, but I think I’d remember if this was one of the reasons why. Just to make sure, I threw on the home version on Switch Online, and it took me only a few seconds to verify the gravity for the arcade version isn’t like the NES version at all. The worst part of this whole issue with Vs. Balloon Fight is, if you start to come down, the gravity seems to further intensify, requiring even faster flapping to regain your momentum. Maybe that’s more “realistic” but it’s a frick’n video game about a guy in a balloon dueling to the death with birds using balloons themselves. To hell with realism! And why the heck didn’t anyone care this much about realistic gravity when it was Pinball? The gravity especially affected me in the wide-open bonus stages, which require you to chase down balloons that rise out four chimneys. I would inevitably lose my strength, and any attempt at recovery was hopeless and I’d crash pathetically to the ground with balloons still rising.

In addition to the crushing gravity, the walls and ceilings seem to have a lot more bounce to them. This can be problematic near the water. The enemies tend to do what I call “ride the current” and drift across a straight line, going through one side of the screen and coming out the other, and this will likely include one that hovers just above the water line, where the big fish will jump up to snatch you. Since there’s often platforms right above you, I tended to bounce off them and make myself hover too close to the water. I lost more lives to falling in the drink than I did to the enemies, easily. Well, partial credit for the bumpers. Those things ought to have warning signs. And yes, the fish will eat the enemies too, and it’s ALWAYS hilarious when it happens!

On the NES, you can hold the B-Button to autoflap. Thankfully, Arcade Archives games almost always have an option on the button mapping menu to turn-on autofire. Even better is that you can set the speed, and this is one of those games where that matters greatly. In fact, I took advantage of it and set a different flap speed to each face button (kinky, right?). It works great! Hey, the game’s now completely playable, and you get to appreciate what is actually a massive improvement on the Joust formula. Fun characters. Lots of charm. The combat has weight and my beloved OOMPH and it feels impactful to crash a balloon, complete with satisfying POP sound! It always brought a smile to my face seeing the sad look of an enemy as it slowly drifted to its potential doom. Of course, they can turn the tables on you if you wait too long, pumping a new balloon and upgrading to a more aggressive level of AI. There were also moments I got sadistic glee out of. Like having a stage with lots of bumpers, and I’m at the top of the level and suddenly I hear the fish jumping up and down, and then a few seconds later a bonus bubble starts to rise onto the screen, meaning an enemy just got eaten off-screen. Side note: I’d like to think that the bubbles are the enemy souls going to Heaven and bursting them sends them straight to Hell. Or maybe it stops them from being resurrected. Either way is bliss!

I did NOT die from this. When you take too much time to finish a stage, the clouds tap three mountains and cast Ball Lightning at you. It bounces around the stage and is an instakill even if you have two balloons. But, right here, more than half of it hit my body and I survived. That might be the most generous collision box I’ve seen in an arcade game.

Now, here’s why the gravity should be a deal breaker: because in the two modes designed specifically to compete for online high scores, you can’t turn on autofire. Yes, there’s online leaderboards in the main mode too, but you can cheat like you’ve been made an honorary Houston Astro in those. In addition to all scores counting no matter what adjustments you make to the game’s default settings (including giving yourself extra lives), you can use the interrupt save state feature. Until you game over, you can keep returning to the main menu and restarting from where you last saved. I used this to put myself 4th on the all-time leaderboard, because screw it, why not? Meanwhile, if you so much as pause the game in Hi-Score or the five minute Caravan mode, the game is over. You can’t just continue and must restart the game. While future releases of Arcade Archives would allow autofire in Hi-Score/Caravan, since it makes no sense to ban them when everyone has the option to turn them on and thus it’s a level playfield, they’re disabled here. So, 66% of the game requires you to mash buttons more than any game not based around the Olympics should, and those are that have protection from cheating. I figured this was an easy NO! Well, no, because it’s not 66% of the package where autofire is disabled. It’s 50% of it.

Let’s talk about co-op.

My promise to my readers in 2023: I will make a good faith effort to take the multiplayer for a test drive in games more often.

Being a Nintendo Vs. System release, a real Vs. Balloon Fight has two screens, which allows for two separate games to be played at once OR for a two-screened co-op experience. On a single Nintendo Switch, this is represented by two side-by-side mini-screens. Or, if you each own a separate copy of Arcade Archives: Vs. Balloon Fight, each player can have their own screen with one of the players hosting a game. I wasn’t willing to spend $16 on this, so Angela and me played on one screen “cooperatively” in quotation marks that feel ashamed to be associated with such an obvious lie. The only cooperation we showed was our mutual understanding that the two of us would be spending the next hour trying to assassinate each-other. Oh sure, we were bound to kill a few enemies would die along the way too. You know, in the crossfire. But really, once the game started with me immediately making a beeline for her and popping one of her balloons, sh*t was on. And guess what? It was a lot of fun, but it also further exposed some obvious weaknesses in Vs. Balloon Fight.

YOU MURDERER!

If a player runs out of lives, they can’t just re-up without issue. When either player has a game over, the action pauses and goes to the continue screen. If a player continues, the level restarts from the beginning. Since the other player was likely to be on their last life, we took to just feeding ourselves to the fish as soon as the game restarted so that we’d both have full lives to continue the fratricide. I get that it was 1984 and jump-in continues weren’t the commonplace practice yet, but it really hurts the flow of the multiplayer mode, especially when you’re having a blast killing each-other. It also sort of renders competing for points completely pointless. If you’re losing, pull a Tonya Harding and whack the other player. Your score resets to zero if you die. If you got a high score, too bad. That’s fine though. We had a jolly good time playing aggressively against each-other while also dealing with the enemies. We came to appreciate a comically well-timed betrayal when one of us was actually dealing with the baddies.

We’d actually work together best during bonus stages. I credit the cheerful music. Also, just so we’re clear: there’s no Balloon Trip mode in this. With the gravity it has, it’d basically be impossible anyway.

Even my parents got in on the action, and watching my Mom avenge me by taking out Angela about three seconds after Angela respawned from the previous murder will go down as an early highlight of 2023 for me. So, was this multiplayer mode enough to save Vs. Balloon Fight? Surprisingly.. yea! Barely, but barely counts. While I’m still pretty peeved that the modes I cared most about going into this are basically unplayable by me, fun is fun, and with autofire and a second player, Vs. Balloon Fight is a lot of fun. It could be more fun with some adjustments, like letting players reload without the level restarting. Especially since you’ll be draining each-other’s lives. Or, if you want to legitimately cooperate, that’s also fun. Of course it is! Trying to make homicide look like an accident is always fun.

Angela: “I KNEW IT!” Oh, like you weren’t doing it too!

Arcade Archives: Vs. Balloon Fight is Chick-Approved

Arcade Archives: Vs. Balloon Fight was developed by Hamster
Point of Sale: Nintendo Switch

$7.99 burst your bubble in the making of this review.

Arcade Archives: Golf (1984 Nintendo Arcade Review)

I used to golf quite a lot. I grew up literally right next to a country club that we were members of, but we never went next door to do anything but eat. Then my father had a mild heart attack and the doctor suggested he needed to take better care of himself and take-up a nice, relaxing physical hobby. Guess what he chose? Heh. Yea, because golf has NEVER been known to cause stress, right? I was 11-years old and, content that my father was on the mend and not, you know.. dead.. I went back to my normal routine of staring blankly at the screen while playing video games. I was on my brand-spanking-new PlayStation 2 when my Dad said I was coming with him to take-up golfing too. I refused, and he threatened to repurpose all my disc-based games as drink coasters. I said “you wouldn’t do that” and turned around to find my copy of Eternal Ring sitting under his mug. So, bitching and complaining the entire walk over to the clubhouse, I took-up the sport with my old man. Like most middle aged men suffering a midlife crisis, Dad overdid it with all the best equipment money could buy and lessons from the club pro, and whatever he bought for himself, he bought for me too out of guilt. It didn’t help him at all. His swing is such a disaster that I wanted to learn to play the violin and strum out Nearer, My God, to Thee after every tee-off. “It’s been a pleasure playing with you, Pops.”

Like Satan himself, this goes under many names. It could be called just Golf. It could be Vs. Golf. It could be Stroke & Match Golf. Hell, there’s even a re-sprited version with women called Vs. Ladies Golf that has different holes. Why wasn’t that included in this set? Because it’ll be an extra $7.99 when it inevitably lands on Nintendo Switch. Duh!

Meanwhile, given my size, strength, and complete lack of coordination and athletic ability, I wasn’t too bad a golfer. At my best, I was a 14 handicap. Which, for you non-duffers out there, that means if I were to play a full eighteen hole round of golf with a score of -14 to start, you would expect that I’d finish the round at 0, or even par. In essence, I got good enough where you wouldn’t expect me to bogey every hole. Dad was a 29 handicap. He couldn’t even get halfway to me, and if you don’t think I didn’t take a moment to rub that in his face every single time we hit the links, you don’t know me. None of that has anything to do with golf video games, but what do you want? They’re usually games about stopping a meter on time. YOU try to make it interesting! Really, the only reason to put all this here is to make it clear: I know my golf, and even though I consider myself a mediocre-at-best video game player, I usually annihilate golf games. I played Mario Golf on Switch Online a few months ago, a game I played a lot as a kid, and it was like putting on a comfy pair of old shoes. After a brief warm-up period, I was draining eagles and holes in one like there was no tomorrow. I even had an elusive albatross! It was like no time had passed at all. Mario Golf for the Nintendo 64 shockingly holds up very well to the test of time. I wish the same could be said about the one that started it all.

If some of these holes seem eerily familiar, they should. If you played golf on Wii Sports, you played these holes too. They just took the NES/Arcade Golf course and made it 3D. Yep, really.

Golf was one of the most successful of Nintendo’s Vs. System arcade games, so much so that they had one in the country club before I was born. I’ve heard from people who bought an NES just to have it. So, this is a little more historically big than I thought. And man, talk about a pedigree! Golf was designed by Shigeru Miyamoto, directed by Kenji Miki (who also directed NES Open Golf and Wario Woods before going on to be a very prolific producer at Nintendo), and programmed solely by Satoru Iwata. Apparently, Miki got deeply into golf during the Japanese golf boom of the 80s. You wouldn’t know it from this. I know a lot of my readers get annoyed when I talk about the dribblty-ball or other assorted sportsballs, but this is where I have to let the sports nerd in me come out. Because this is a golf game that basically does one thing right, and everything else horribly wrong. And, by the way, if you don’t know anything about golf, you’re going to need time to read the manual and memorize the max shot length. There’s no computer assistance with choosing your club, nor anything on-screen that tells you how much yardage you get out of each. If you don’t know the difference between a 3 Wood and a 6 Iron, you’re on your own to figure it out. There IS a chart in the instruction manual but you have to pause the game for it (which will automatically end your game if you’re playing Caravan or Hi-Score mode), but still, it’s not the most user-friendly golf game. You also always default to the driver at the start of every new hole, even if it’s not a hole where you’d want to bring the thunder. This is golf played exactly like everyone who steps onto the links for the first time: hammer always in hand.

One of the golden rules of golf is it’s better to undershoot than overshoot. A wise man once said you’re not likely to hit a parked car by undershooting.

So, here’s the thing about golf that matters most: any idiot can do a tee shot with a solid 80% accuracy if they practice it enough. It’s not even that much practice you need to learn to drive well enough to not embarrass yourself. In golf, real or video, it’s the short game that makes or breaks you, and Match & Stroke Golf has a pretty abysmal short game. Especially troublesome is chipping. In real life, if you ask any professional golfer what’s the most important club in their bag besides the putter, they’ll almost all agree it’s the pitching wedge. In Vs. Golf, the club is just not calculated right and it makes it unsuitable for chipping and other assorted short-distance shots. In fact, they seem to have designed it to play like a lob wedge, which is not the same thing. A lob wedge is designed to make high-arcing drop-shots that have less bounce and roll. They also allow for more control over the spin if you want to angle it. In Vs. Golf, the wedgie launches the ball high into the air with a tall arc, even if you chip. In a game where there’s no topography outside of the green and you can’t put English on the ball, that kind of shot is totally unnecessary.

The bunkers might as well be repainted fairways for all the challenge they pose in this game.

Yet, if you’re right by the green, you don’t want to use the wedgie. Even with a very light powered chipping stroke, the ball gets too much distance. I found myself using the sand wedge, which I suppose was a satisfactory enough chipper for the purposes of this game. Yes, many people, including pros (famously Phil Mickelson) use the sand wedge on the fairway because of its large-angled face which is great for a variety of different spins. You know what? I honestly found it was a lot safer and accurate to just putt from the fairway if I was 30 yards away. The game at least tells you how far you are from the hole, and anything less than 30, screw it, I putted. Sometimes it would even go in the hole, though this felt entirely like it was luck-based. This doesn’t seem like that big a deal, right? But, it sort of is.

Putting is annoying at first, but you can get SOMEWHAT used to it. The arrows on the green clue you into the slope, and it’s just a matter of figuring out the power to use. But, it’s not a good system. There’s no adjustable power and judging the speed and roll and distance is completely guesswork. Also, sometimes you’ll get a lie that I’m almost entirely certain isn’t possible to make in a single stroke. That happens in situations where you’re putting directly against the slope from a long distance. I had full-powered strokes come to a stop before they reached the hole. Golf doesn’t do any of the short game in a way that feels good, but putting is the worst. It never feels comfortable. Annoying you can learn to deal with it just enough to not be a deal breaker, but you’ll NEVER like it. Okay, maybe this really IS accurate to the sport.

See, you’re not going to be shooting holes-in-one or ironing-out eagles from 150 yards out as anything but dumb luck in Vs. Golf. It’s just not a precise enough game. BUT, you also can’t just chip-in either, and that’s where it crosses the line for me. Putting from a pixel or two off the green isn’t the same as knocking-in a forty-yard chip, and you can’t do that here. 99% of the best moments in golf, real or digital, are not shots off the tee. The most exciting and satisfying shots almost always come after that, and that can’t happen here. Not with these mechanics. Thus, you’re left with a game of video golf that lacks the potential for the most exciting shots. It’d be like a basketball game without dunking or a three point line. That’s the fun stuff! Remember, Golf is the one sport where “close enough” can be exhilarating. One of the single most incredible moments of my life was the first time I shot a ball from a bad lie in the rough and put it about five feet from the hole. Mind you, the putt was for a double-bogey, but I didn’t care. I was 12 years old and it was the first time I’d ever done anything that resembled good golf.

I had to rewrite a few parts of this review because I didn’t even think to pause the game to check and see if there was a shot chart to help newbies. I hate that I keep picking games I ultimately don’t like. I can see why Hamster wouldn’t want me to get review copies. They have a bad winning percentage with me. BUT, I will always give them props for their instruction manuals. They’re never half-assed and I really do appreciate the effort for clear instructions.

Well, the Nintendo Golf doesn’t really capture that spirit well because the short game just isn’t exact enough, and while “close enough” is a staple of golf, it’s also a game of precision. The strongest aspect about Vs. Golf is easily the shots off the tee. This was a pioneer of the standard triple-click swing mechanic that’s so ingrained into the video golf genre that the recent EA PGA game brought it back. It works here, and thank god for that. You can only shoot in sixteen exact directions and have to learn to utilize the slice (curving the ball right) and the hook (curving it left), which is simple to remember: left is right, and right is left. On the final click, if your meter is left of the white target, the ball will slice right mid-flight. If you’re right of the target, the ball will hook left in the air. You have to learn to use this, because sometimes you absolutely just can’t aim at the green the way you want to and have to sort of guestimate the hook or slice. There’s no flight trajectory or any method of helping you. I suppose, once again, it’s true to real life golf: you have to practice to get a feel for it.

Stupid as it is, I did enjoy the standard Arcade Archives five minute Caravan Mode. Yes, it’s even part of Golf. My best was shooting -4 after five minutes. I only barely finished the 6th hole when time expired. My best in the standard mode was shooting -10 for 18 holes. Not too shabby. In my recent Mario Golf session, I shot a 51, or -21 under par for the second-to-last course. My best as a kid wasn’t far off that. I think I did -25 under once. In real golf, one time at a par-3, nine-hole pitch & putt, I shot +1. At the course I played most on, my best ever for a day was +7 scratch. Sounds not too bad, but I was only +1 after nine holes. I gagged away the best nine holes I ever shot in my life, and Dad was calling me “Shark” after famous choker Greg Norman.

Another problem with Vs. Golf is every single shot is essentially a clean lie on the fairway. If the ball lands on a tree, it’s out of bounds and a penalty. Otherwise, even if you’re facing a tree, you don’t have to do anything different. It’s as if the trees aren’t there. There’s not even a rough in this golf game. Rough, aka the tall annoying stuff which is the thing that you’re desperately trying not to hit in real golf. No worries about that here. Instead, you’re playing all-or-nothing golf. It’s feast or famine: you’re either on the fairway, bunker, or green, or you’re out of bounds (or in the water, but at least there you get to take a drop). There’s wind, which barely manipulates the ball at all unless it’s over 10mph. Even sand traps don’t really factor in all that much. I never once hit one that wasn’t right by the green, which would be the only time that would actually hurt. The ball doesn’t get buried in sand, and you don’t have to do anything special besides switching to the sand wedge, which makes them kind of toothless, which defeats the point of having them in the first place. If anything, they’re just a brown-colored fairway that’s easier to chip off of. They’re the one element where it IS safe to chip and not worry about overshooting.

The little fist-pump Mario does when you sink a birdie managed to bring a smile to my face. Sadly, I never shot an eagle this entire review process. Not one. Came close only once, and yea, that was cool. It’s golf! Those moments would be cool no matter how antiquated the actual game is.

So, what do I make of this? Because golf should be frustrating, right? It’s golf, named as such because all the other four letter words were taken (yes, I stole that from Leslie Nielsen). It’d be weird if there wasn’t a steep learning curve. But, I think that this does little more than serve as a good first step towards making video golf a legitimately fun and viable genre. I’m totally certain this was groundbreaking and probably very fun in the mid-80s, like Golden Tee was in the 90s. Nintendo’s Golf is ultimately a very stripped-down game of golf, and while it isn’t totally crap by today’s standards, it’s just not that fun anymore. Vs. Golf is hurt badly by what it doesn’t do. Despite the lack of complex terrain, it lacks for assisted club selection, thus making it not so newbie friendly. But, veterans of video golf will find it too basic. What is Match & Stroke Golf? It’s a really good proof of concept for where video golf would go over the coming decade, and that’s awesome and admirable. But, now it really only has value as a historical curio. Then again, there’s people buying this because this version has music and the NES version doesn’t. Do I recommend it? Well.. no. But, with handicap, it could be a yes.

Golf is not Chick-Approved.

Golf was developed by Hamster Corp.
Point of Sale: Nintendo Switch

$7.99 triple-bogeyed in the making of this review.

Arcade Archives: Kangaroo (Review)

This week, I’ve looked at the maze chase. I’ve looked at the gallery shooter. I looked at.. whatever the hell Journey was aiming for. But, what about the Donkey Kong-like platformer? How about Kangaroo? It was released in 2020 as part of the Arcade Archives lineup too, so no need to dip into MAME this time. Believe it or not, Kangaroo was not some kind of historical curio. Despite being made by Sun Electronics, who would go on to be Sunsoft, maker of Blaster Master and the NES Batman, Kangaroo was distributed in America by Atari. Thus, a lot of people think of this as an Atari game, and one that could have gone into my Games They Couldn’t Use feature. Indeed, you’ll be seeing Kangaroo for the Atari 2600 and 5200 in part two of that very series. It was a moderate hit for Atari, and in fact did well enough that it was even adapted into an animated short as part of the legendary Saturday Supercade cartoon block. But, as an Arcade Archives release, Kangaroo deserves its own look. While I’m grateful that Hamster released this as a solo-effort, holy smokes, this is a terrible game. Anyone who thinks I’ve gone too easy on the retro games this week, just wait. I’m going to have a Kangaroo burger here.

Literally the only stage that works without MUCH of a hitch, and it couldn’t be more bland, basic, and boring.

I’ve nicknamed Kangaroo “Sloppy Joey” because that’s how Kangaroo feels. Like a game that wanted to ride coattails, but was made by people who had no clue what they were doing. Kangaroo is made-up of three levels where the object is to climb to the top of the stage to reach your joey, and one level where you can bring the joey to you. It wants to be Donkey Kong so bad it can taste it (what does Donkey Kong taste like? The answer is “chicken” because most everything tastes like chicken, which is why you should NEVER TRUST THE CHICKEN!) but it didn’t seem to understand how to do any of the things Donkey Kong did in terms of movement or level design. I’ll start with the movement, where jumping is mapped to UP but so is climbing ladders. It makes jumping over gaps a pain in the butt. If you fall or jump down even an inch, you die.. in some parts. In other parts you still can’t fall even a single pixel length, but you can jump down to a lower ledge. There’s no consistency except anytime you step off a ledge, you die. Even if the ledge is literally the size of your foot. At that point, it isn’t a ledge, is it? It’s a step, right? But it kills you like you just fell off the Grand Canyon. In general, the movement just feels sluggish and unresponsive. The best thing I can say about it is it’s not as bad the level design, which very much incorporates that death-by-gravity inconsistency.

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The stages of Kangaroo are some the most bizarrely constructed I’ve ever seen. They’re so weird. After a conservative first stage, the second stage begins with having to hop-up a series of uneven platforms, and this is where the game’s biggest flaw reveals itself: the rules are inconsistent. When you ring a bell, it spawns more fruit, though most of it is below you, and you will die if you even attempt to jump lower once you ring the bell in level two. The fruit DOES carry over if you lose a life, but actually going to retrieve it is apparently not possible. I tried it, and if there’s a spot where it’s safe to do it, I couldn’t find it. Normally I’d check YouTube clips to see if I’m missing something but then I was like.. why would they make it so the fruit respawns below you anyway? Wouldn’t it make sense to have the bell on the first floor, with some kind of extra risk element blocking it, and put players at a choice? See what I mean about how this makes no sense? I imagine even in 1982 or 1983 that risk/reward design was a known thing, right? Which again makes this feel like a game by people who were just sticking things on a screen and crossing their fingers that they could reach the goal, sort of like me when I make a Mario Maker level. I did make a good faith effort to try to go lower and get the fruits, but the moment I went any bit lower than the platform I was on, I went into the death animation. BUT, then you get to level four, and there’s a series of ladders and gaps, and sometimes you do have to jump to a lower platform, which is now safe to do. Just what everyone wants from a video game: one that changes the rules as you go along.

Specifically it’s the spot by the broken ladder in the right-center of the screen. You can jump down to the platform left of it. The same drop, even off a jump, will kill you in level two. Kangaroo plays Calvinball. It just makes up the rules as it goes along.

Nothing goes right in Kangaroo. I’ve had moments where I punched an enemy that wasn’t even in its throwing animation and we both died. The collision is bad, especially on the third stage. It wanted SO DESPERATELY to be the non-conventional Rivet Stage in Donkey Kong type of twist. In it, there’s a stack of monkeys holding the platform that the joey is on and you can punch the monkeys out from the stack to keep lowering the platform. You’ll be dodging apple cores dropped from above or thrown at you from the side this whole time, and other monkeys will come and try to join the stack or push back. It takes several punches to successfully dislodge a monkey, but if you’re not lined up right, you’ll punch right through them. Even though logically it should still be a punch. While alone it wouldn’t be a deal breaker, Kangaroo is a series of little annoyances that add up to one hugely crappy game. Like, you jump high enough that you’re clearly above platforms and should land on them, but you don’t. You go through them unless you jump on them from the correct platform. What was even the point of being a kangaroo then?

Also why is THIS the third stage when it has a climatic feel to it? It should have been fourth. It’s like they wanted to make a Donkey Kong-like game without taking any time or effort to figure out why Donkey Kong worked.

Sloppy Joey is ugly. It’s glitchy. It flickers like an Atari 2600 game, which is especially off-putting for an arcade game. It controls like crap. It has illogical design and scoring, especially with how the bell works. It’s also a game that defies challenging for high scores because you’re at the mercy of dumb luck. There’s a giant ape that shows up to box you and, if it scores a punch, you lose your boxing glove. But, it appears seemingly at random. I’ve had multiple instances where I’d go several games without seeing it once. Of course, it yields a high score if you punch it first. Like all Arcade Archives games, the main reason to own this would be to compete on online leaderboards. My high score was the only one in over a dozen attempts that had the great ape appear. So the one element that would make this engaging in 2023 is based on pure random chance. Most annoying: it has legitimate charm that makes you want to like it. Little touches like how, a second after you duck, the kangaroo pops its head up as if to peek and see if the coast is clear. I mean, come on! That’s adorable. And it pisses me off even more because instead of refining gameplay, they wasted their time and energy on crap like that. Of course, that little extra detail is probably what scored this a spot on Saturday Supercade. Fun fact: despite Atari’s status as the undisputed kings of video games during that show’s run, Kangaroo was the only Atari-published game to be part of Saturday Supercade’s lineup. What, they couldn’t come up with Missile Command cartoon? Which, going off how the rest of Saturday Supercade “adapted” video games (such as Q*Bert being basically Happy Days or Grease), Missile Command would probably be set during the Great Depression and be about sentient missiles running a news stand. Well.. okay, I’d totally watch that.

Kangaroo is not Chick-Approved

Kangaroo was developed by Sun Electronics
Point of Sale: Nintendo Switch, PlayStation

$7.99 got pounced in the making of this review.

Popeye (1982 Arcade Review)

As the story goes, Nintendo attempted to take a license on Popeye 1981. King Syndicate approved the license.. after the game was too far into production to be reworked. You know that game as Donkey Kong. That’s right: had King Syndicate not dragged its feet, there would be no Mario, no Donkey Kong, and no Pauline. They would have been Popeye, Bluto, and Olive Oyl respectively. Just imagine.. a video game world without Pauline! What would have happened to the Super Mario Odyssey song? Oh and the video game landscape as we know it would look totally different. King did eventually grant the license, but by that point, Nintendo had no clue what they would do with it. It was too late to pull back Donkey Kong and turn it into Popeye, and they also had nothing on the drawing board. All they had was a license. The rest of Popeye’s development is shrouded in mystery, but about a year-and-a-half after the license from King Syndicate arrived, Popeye reached arcades. Sometime between their “oh crap, they gave us the license!” moment and November of 1982, Nintendo somehow managed to make what I feel is the best of their early arcade output.

No early 80s game had such cartoon-like graphics. Well, yea. Shigeru Miyamoto literally watched Popeye cartoons while drawing the sprites. Of course, the backgrounds look more like Sky Skipper’s, which is not a very pretty game.

Popeye is one of those games that grew on me. As I started getting into playing retro games, I began to better appreciate what it accomplished in 1982. It’s the best maze chase I’ve played that’s played from a side-view, and Bluto is the best pursuer the genre has ever seen. You could just as easily retheme this as a Terminator game and it’d work. Bluto stalks you and isn’t limited to the platform he’s on. He can reach down to the platform below him. He can jump up to swipe at you. If you’re two stories below him, he’ll jump down two stories to come at you. If you’re across the screen he’ll throw bottles at you. He will not stop, until you’re dead. He’s an ever-present menace that makes Popeye one of the greatest maze chase games ever. This is a game of close calls, tight squeezes, and a surprising amount of action. As you move about the stage, the Sea Hag throws bottles at you too. Sometimes she does it from both sides at the same time. You have a punch move that doesn’t work on Bluto but it can break the bottles and the bouncing skulls (introduced after a complete level cycle) that come your way. In a maze chase with one of the most relentless pursuers the genre has seen, those moments where you’re forced to stand still and smash bottles become some of the most nerve-racking in all of classic gaming. And it’s awesome!

After completing one cycle of Popeye’s levels, the game goes truly bonkers. You still have Bluto and the Sea Hag to watch out for, but now you also have ANOTHER Sea Hag throwing skulls that bounce randomly around the level. Oh and you lose a life if any of the stuff Olive Oyl throws lingers on the bottom stage too long. It’s Nintendo’s way of saying “okay, you had your fun and rescued Olive Oyl. Now, please get the fudge off the machine so someone else will pay a quarter to play it.”

Popeye also works because you can’t create some kind of a preset strategy to walk the maze. Olive Oyl throws the collectables onto the playfield, which sorta float about. Their speeds and trajectory are completely random. Much like I do through life, they just sort of drift aimlessly until they reach the bottom. Improvising is the name of the game. You have to constantly fight to scratch-out a safe distance between you and Bluto, but you also have to chase down the hearts/notes/letters that your main squeeze tosses down at you, and they constantly shift directions. You can let them reach the bottom floor, but once there, they’ll slowly start to sink into the floor. If they linger there too long, you lose a life. This will lead to moments where you’re making squeeze-plays right by Bluto trying to get to the basement and collect the items with the urgent DU-NU-LUNT-LUNT-DU–NU-LUNT-LUNT music playing that’s right up there with Baby Mario’s crying from Yoshi’s Island in the “MAKE IT STOP!” Hall of Fame.

Despite my attempts to learn the idiosyncrasies of these classic games and what makes them work or not, I’m rarely any good at them. But, in gathering media for this review, I reached the seventh screen for only the second time on the arcade version. I shouldn’t really get nervous because who gives a crap about a high score of a forty year old game played on an emulator that doesn’t count anyway? But, in fact, I ultimately broke for 100,000 points (without cheating!) for the first time playing this and my hands were sopping with nerve-sweat the entire time. It was both disgusting and glorious.

Being Popeye, you can also grab a can of spinach from the edge of one of the screens. When you do, all the action on the screen stops. Everything except Bluto, who will try beat-feet-it away from you. But, annoyingly, you can’t just give chase. You have to do the HE’S POPEYE THE SAILOR MAN! HE LIVES IN A FRYING PAN! TURN-UP THE GAS AND BURN OFF HIS ASS HE’S POPEYE THE SAILOR MAN posing. By time you actually can move, Bluto usually has distance on you. My strategy was to put myself in a do-or-die situation where Bluto WOULD kill me coming up or down the stairs. It might have worked, but I had to pay attention to what position the spinach was in, and how long it’d been there. And I have the attention span of a housefly. My personal best game ever, which I actually had while making this review, would have been even better but I lost two lives mistiming the spinach. When I went to grab it, it was gone, and I had SUCH egg on my face.

About a half-second after this was taken I finally game-overed. I was ten times more excited to have broke for 100,000 than any functioning adult should be.

The three levels are fun and unique, and they each have their own gimmick. In the first level, you can drop a bucket on Bluto’s head. In the second level, you can use Wimpy to launch yourself from the basement to the top floor. The third stage has a moving platform near the top of the screen, and it introduces the Sea Hag’s buzzard, which you can just sock right in the beak for easy points. Of course, three levels makes this the shortest game of that initial Donkey Kong trilogy and leaves you wanting a lot more. But, this is also the Nintendo coin-op with the fewest weaknesses in that initial run. There’s no jumping physics to learn. There’s no objects to jump over. It’s you, a 2D landscape, projectiles flying in from the sides, and the best chaser in the genre. In only three levels, Popeye provides more close-calls and nail-biting moments than any maze chase that’s done from a side angle. Shame about the license, though. It means Popeye is the one Nintendo coin-op that gets no love these days. We were THIS CLOSE to Nintendo’s most important game ever being forever shackled by a license from a company with no passion for gaming. Everything you need to know about how lucky we all are can be summed-up by Popeye being a non-entity in 2020s. For the want of a signature, it could have been Donkey Kong. Then again, maybe this game would have featured a carpenter gathering hearts while being pursued by a gorilla and everyone would celebrate it today while Popeye Kong would be buried, never to show its face again. Life finds a way, right?

Make sure to check out my review of modern Popeye tribute Gon’ E-Choo! It’s so close to Nintendo authentic that you’d swear it really was a 1983 sequel to Popeye that was reskinned.

Popeye was developed by Nintendo

Popeye is Chick-Approved

King & Balloon (1980 Arcade Review)

UPDATE: King & Balloon has been released to Nintendo Switch and PlayStation as part of the Arcade Archives franchise. Read my review of the $7.99 package here.

Yesterday, I looked at one of the two Golden Age gallery shooters that I actually liked. Here’s the other, though it’s nowhere near as complicated. Weirdly, King & Balloon also came out in 1980. It isn’t all that different from Space Invaders, only with a tiny hint of Galaxian thrown-in. Rows of marching enemies with limited attack patterns to shoot (in this case, murderous hot air balloons instead of aliens, which don’t scoff, because people have fought hilarious duels to the death in them), with the same formations restarting after you clear every screen. Besides having enemies dive down at you like in Galaxian, this could have been SO bland and boring. It almost was, but two wonderful twists in the formula turn this into one of the most satisfying and intense gallery shooters to follow in Space Invaders’ footsteps.

It looks like it’s going to be old and dull. Never judge a book by its cover. Except Twilight. Judge that like you’ve never judged before.

Twist #1: If your cannon gets shot, or an enemy lands on it, you don’t lose a life. Your cannon is destroyed but a new one will spawn after a couple seconds. Twist #2: That’s because the object of the game is to protect the King. He’s positioned underneath you and mindlessly walks back and forth, and while the balloons are shooting at you, they’re really trying to kidnap him. They’ll dive down and perch on the platform he’s walking on, and if he crosses paths with one, they’ll start to fly away, with the King literally screaming “HELP!” in one of the first uses of voice synthesis in a game. If you can shoot the balloon that’s got him, he’ll float safely back down to the platform. It’s a formula that makes for a genuinely exciting experience that, to the best of my knowledge, really hasn’t ever been replicated since.

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One thing I’m big on with classic coin-ops is games that allow players to come up with their own strategies. That’s certainly the case with King & Balloon. When the balloons perch to kidnap the king, whether they snatch him or not, they don’t kill you if they touch you as they return to the playfield. So, it’s actually a totally valid strategy to focus on the balloons that remain in their formation while ignoring those who swoop down to take position to snatch the King. Then, you can just pick them off once they grab the King or return to their position, which they eventually will whether they grab the King or not. I found my best games took an offensive minded approach until the enemies become more aggressive, at which point I just focus on dodging bullets and letting the balloons try to grab the king. Since the balloons are harmless when they leave their perch, with or without the King, your best chance at picking them off is during their return. It’s like getting free shots at them. There’s also moments where you can allow yourself to be shot or have a balloon crash into you if you’re confident that you’ll have enough time to respawn and get a shot off to save the King as he’s being carried away. For a shooter with such limited gameplay, King & Balloon is deceptively layered.

Sometimes the enemies Voltronize themselves and make a bigger balloon that takes more shots to kill. If you miss it, it turns into three small balloons to attempt to kidnap the King

Does it get old? Sure. I wouldn’t want to play it for hours and hours on end. But, for a limited burst session when I have a few minutes to kill? I actually have busted this out just for fun, and I have a lot of options for King & Balloon to compete with, so that really says something. If there’s a problem with it, I think the lack of variety in enemies, along with their tactics and formations, hurts to some degree. Really, King & Balloon does one thing, and while it does it really well, it is still just a one trick pony, and one that can get old quickly. That’s why I suggest this for people like me who like to have games on standby to kill small amounts of time with. I also think King & Balloon escalates too quickly. The odds become pretty overwhelming after two screens, and by the fourth, you’ll remember that the point of this was to earn quarters and it’s high time you move off the machine and let the next player have a turn.

save

When you successfully make the save, it might be the most satisfying shot in gallery shooter history.

Still, this is a very fun game.. and yet, King & Balloon got NO home adaptations except on the MSX of all things. Even Carnival was on every major early-80s platform and was a modest hit on the Atari 2600 and Colecovision, at least enough to make copies of it not remotely rare or valuable. Meanwhile, not a single console got King & Balloon. As far as my research could find, nobody even considered it. Remember Sky Skipper? The cancelled Nintendo arcade game? EVEN THAT got an Atari 2600 port that actually was released. What the hell happened?

Atari owned the rights to King & Balloon through the same deal that scored them Pac-Man for pennies on the dollar, but they did nothing with it. Not even a prototype or anything. And don’t tell me it was the Zilog Z80 processor, because Atari took a crack at adapting-for-home many games based around that. Pac-Man and Galaxian used it, and they’re on the Atari 2600. This genre was smoking hot during this time frame and I think King & Balloon would have found an audience in 1981 or 1982 on the 2600. So, what gives? After pondering this for a while, the only theory I could come up with that made any sense is that they didn’t want to cannibalize Space Invader’s earnings potential. Either that or Taito had a deal that prevented Atari from porting King & Balloon because it was too close to Space Invaders. Or, if not Space Invaders they wanted to shore-up, perhaps it was Galaxian, which Atari did port in 1983. What a shame that is, because Galaxian was fated to be swallowed up by the test of time. King & Balloon meanwhile is one of two arcade gallery shooters from 1981 or earlier to successfully pass that test. At least from what I’ve played. It’s a very good game in 2023 all on its own, without a single “for its time” asterisk. And nobody cares, because it’s been completely shut-out historically.

Of course, when you miss a wide open shot and the king escapes, it’s the stubbed-toe of gaming. Nothing feels worse.

Hell, it didn’t even make any of the original five PS1 Namco Museum releases, being relegated to the Japanese-only Encore before becoming a plus-one to the weird Namco Museums on PSP and Wii. Damn, that’s cold. Maybe because they felt the only worthy aspect was the synthesized voices. No, actually King & Balloon is another contender for most underrated game of its time. I’d even say it’s worthy of a remake. It won’t get one. This is the unloved child of Namco’s lineup. How in the hell is Galaxian in so many of these sets.. even sets that have Galaga.. but this can’t get any love? That they keep bringing back Galaxian anyway is like one of those families that has two kids: one incredible and the other a sleazy ne’er-do-well, and the parents still love the sleaze more just because they’re the first born. My sister is eyeing me with contempt right now. She knows what’s up.
Verdict: YES!

King & Balloon was developed by Namco

Be sure to check out Paul Hammond’s excellent King & Balloon tribute on Pico-8. It’s free to play HERE!