AWESOME ARCADES
IN THE EIGHTIES, IF YOU WANTED THE ULTIMATE IN GRAPHICAL TECHNOLOGY AND BRUTAL CHALLENGE, THERE WAS ONLY ONE PLACE TO GO – YOUR LOCAL ARCADE. WE LOOK BACK AT AN AGE WHERE THE COIN-OP SCENE WAS STILL THE ENVY OF THE GAMING WORLD
Bringing the fight to Atari, Coleco leaned on quality arcade conversions and a range of hardware add-ons. A promising start was scuppered by the videogame market crash of 1983.
Sega’s first home console offered similar capabilities to the Colecovision – which immediately put it behind Nintendo’s Famicom. It sold better than expected, but was quickly outmatched.
Commodore’s line of 16-bit computers offered strong multimedia capabilities, but at a price. The line didn’t take off as a gaming platform until 1987’s cheaper Amiga 500.
Fujitsu’s computer had a 32-bit CPU, a built-in CD-ROM drive, a beautiful design and plenty of desirable games. What more could you want? Well, a UK release would have been nice.
This successor used the powerful Atari 8-bit home computer as its basis. A lack of backwards compatibility and dodgy joysticks meant that it soon struggled in the marketplace.
This surprise success for Tangerine Computer Systems sold particularly well in the UK and France by matching Sinclair’s pricing, giving way to the Atmos – a flawed and failed successor.
Atari’s 16-bit computers were cheap enough to ensure a wide audience was built quite quickly, but its weaker gaming capabilities saw it fall behind the Amiga after the Eighties.
Nintendo’s modest handheld pulled no punches when it came to software. With Tetris and Super Mario Land at launch, its cost and battery life advantages were just icing on the cake.
Made in Wales and bearing the patriotic branding to prove it, this machine was initially quite popular but limited capabilities stifled it. Dragon Data would fold two years later.
The BBC Micro’s cut-down cousin wasn’t a patch on the real thing, but while it didn’t trouble the bigger players, it did offer enough value that it found a loyal audience in the UK.
Rebranding its Japanese Mark III hardware, Sega followed Nintendo west. It was the leading console in Europe, at a time when consoles played second fiddle to computers. 1989
Atari’s colour handheld was a true powerhouse, offering features that home hardware couldn’t provide. Hungry for batteries and starved of software, it fell behind the competition.
Shelved following a test launch, the 7800 was a far better successor to the Atari 2600 than the 5200 had been. Unfortunately, its sound capabilities left a lot to be desired.
Hosting an 8-bit CPU while boasting of 16-bit performance, this machine from Miles Gordon Technology missed the Christmas rush and its owners were bankrupt by the summer.
During the Eighties, computers of any kind were expensive, and they had to be built for a general purpose. Not so with arcade machines – every penny spent on making them was geared towards ensuring that they were really, really good at running games. As a result, they technologically outstripped anything in the home. “That was the main allure of arcades – being able to spend a few coins to play something that was so far more advanced than the microcomputer and console titles of the period,” says Julian Rignall, an arcade expert who went on to a career in games journalism. “Games like Pole Position, Dragon’s Lair, and Star Wars were all a quantum leap ahead of what was available for home systems and they all delivered stunning gameplay experiences that were immersive, addictive and tremendously exciting. That was an incredibly strong draw for any red-blooded gamer.”
Of course, going to the arcades also meant getting out of the bedroom. “If you went to an arcade regularly, you’d inevitably get to know the other players that frequented the place because you’d chat to them while waiting your turn to play a particular game,” says Julian. “For me, it was akin to some kind of gaming club, and I feel many provincial arcades offered that kind of experience to their regulars.” Of course, getting enough guys into a room together inevitably means that competition will break out, and Julian thrived in that environment. “I was very lucky in that my local arcade had some really good players who regularly frequented the place, and that made for a very competitive scene. We were constantly trying to beat each other’s high scores and we’d keep records on who had the highest score on which machines.”
But the competition was friendly, and tips were shared openly. “I think much of that was to do with the fact that one’s gameplay experience was public – people could and would simply stand there and watch you play, especially if you were good at a game.”
The excitement when a new game was arriving was palpable. “We always knew when there was going to be a new delivery because the arcade technicians would start moving machines about to make room for the new one, and at that point we’d start asking questions,” Julian recalls. “Was it an upright or sit-down cabinet? Had they played the game or did they know what it was?” But without the kind of hype cycle that games have today, each game was an unknown quantity until the engineer switched it on. “Once he’d checked that it was working fine, it would be turned over to us players so we could start playing. And that’s when things would start getting very exciting as we began to figure out how to actually play the game. In cases such as Mr Do!, Dig Dug, Frogger, and Pac-man, they were new concepts at the time and it took a good few tries to get the general gist of their gameplay. But that was part of the fun – figuring out how to play each game and deciding whether or not it was entertaining and worth piling coins into.”
As the decade wore on, manufacturers produced increasingly elaborate cabinets. “While I enjoyed playing them, they were always a bit gimmicky to me,” says Julian.
“The showcase coin-ops always cost a lot more to play than ‘regular’ arcade games, and while they usually delivered a very exciting and intense experience, their gameplay was generally short. Unlike titles like Defender, Asteroids, and Missile Command that could be played for hours on a single credit, games like
After Burner, Out Run, and Space Harrier all had distinct endings that limited your play time.” But plenty of classics still needed just a stick and buttons, from Wonder Boy and Strider to Rolling Thunder, Contra and The New Zealand Story.
But it’s the blasters that top Julian’s personal high score table. “Robotron: 2084 is simply the sheer essence of a shooter distilled down into a frenzied single-screen experience. The rate that you mow down the robotic enemies is incredibly satisfying, and
I love the various behaviours of the different denizens – they really test your skills and reflexes to their limits,” says the arcade veteran. “And then there’s Defender – which I think is perhaps the greatest shooter ever made,” he continues. “Whether you’re thrusting along at full speed mowing down swarms of Landers, avoiding the attentions of a pursuing Baiter, or trying to fly through a hail of ordnance to pick up a falling astronaut, Defender offers a simply sensational shoot-‘em-up experience.”