Ballblaster (Ballblazer)
One of the most well-loved game companies of the ’90’s was LucasArts. From Star Wars flight sims to hilarious pirate adventure games, the company was a wonderful purveyor of top-quality games. However, not many people know that before they were LucasArts, they were Lucasfilm games, and they even created two of the most impressive games to be found on the Atari 8-bit system, both of which are found on this disk.
Let’s start with Ballblazer. On the surface it seems simple enough: two triangles with bases are playing some sort of one-on-one soccer match where the goalposts move and get smaller every time a goal is scored through them, and the farther away you are from the goal when you shoot the ball, the more points you score. This premise could easily and quickly be accomplished using some sort of top-down static view. But these guys take it to the next level. Not only is it the only first-person-perspective scrolling game for the Atari (as far as I know, anyway), but it scrolls incredibly smoothly for the hardware, with no skips, jumps, lag time, etc. The graphics themselves are fairly basic by today’s standards (checkerboard, ball, posts), and even the two players are little more than a triangle on top of another triangle with a triangle in the middle, but just the fact that they scale according to perspective in 1983 ought to count for something. That’s almost ten years before Wolfenstein 3D came out! There’s no real rotation, however, and the perspective changes at 90-degree jumps, which can be disorienting for new players.
The sound also deserves mentioning. During the match itself there’s this sort of hi-hat sounding “rat-a-tat” pumping up the tension that gets a little more subdued whenever someone is in possession of the ball. Also, when the two players get too close to each other there’s a weird buzzing sound, like when a bee flies into your ear (except quite a bit lower, like when a mutant bee flies into your ear). But the most amazing part is the theme tune, which is possibly one of the most creative theme tunes I’ve seen anywhere, not just on the Atari. There’s a repeating bass and harmony pattern, and layered on top of it is an undulating, jazzy improvisatory solo. But wait! How in the world can a computer improv a solo? Well, it’s actually not a programmed-in sequence of notes; instead, it uses a fractal-based algorithm to simulate a solo that, according to one reporter quoted on Wikipedia, sounded like John Coltrane was playing it. (Incidentally, the same article includes a snippet of the C64 version of the theme. No disrespect to the C64, but its version of the theme sucked compared to the Atari 8-bit’s so I’m including how it should sound here.)
The game itself is also infectiously fun. While you can play against the computer at varying skill levels, the best is to go against a friend. Being a Lucasfilm games, it also received an unusual amount of backstory thanks to corporate synergy. Apparently in some future year in some future space, players mount their “rotofoils” (the triangles) to shoot the “plasmorb” (the ball) into the “goals” (the goals). They even made a sportscast video to advertise, featuring the most annoying sportscasters this side of Greg Proops in The Phantom Menace. If LucasArts ever makes a sports game, I sure hope they hire outside people to do the commenting (although, as a rule, sports game commentators are always annoying. How many times must Lee Corso tell me to keep the CLOCK running?!?!? Sorry, had to get something off my chest; I’ll be OK.)
Some may notice that I actually titled this “Ballblaster” not “Ballblazer” and I said it came out in 1983, where other sources state 1984. This is because the version I had was actually a pirated beta version that was missing several frills (although the gameplay is unchanged) such as flashing skies when a goal was scored, the loser spinning out at the end of a game, the entire AI system (you were forced to play against a friend), and, sadly, that awesome Coltrane-like line on top of the theme song. Even with those omissions, it was still an incredible game, and I give it extremely high marks! Get it now! Also, don’t get the Nintendo version! That one sucked!
Obligatory remix (language warning!)
Rescue Mission (Rescue on Fractalus, or Behind Jaggi Lines)
In some future time, in some future space, some humans were waging a war against evil aliens called “Jaggis.” Some of the most brave, heroic pilots faced off against these evil foes on their inhospitable planet, Fractalus. You, however, apparently weren’t as awesome (or foolhardy, depending on your point of view) as any of these pilots, so you get to fly the rescue ship to pick up these poor saps. The atmosphere is toxic, and day lasts something like nine minutes or so, plus the Jaggis keep shooting at anything that emits energy, so you’ve got your work cut out for you. Once you’ve picked up enough pilots you signal the mothership to come pick you up and fly into its docking bay, which looks oddly like a football field, where you advance to the next level. Lucasfilm, however, doesn’t just speed up the enemies and change their color. Instead, every few levels they add a more intimidating obstacle, such as suicide saucers, that day/night change where you have to fly blind (use the altimeter!), and perhaps the reason I’m still scared to live sometimes (but I’ll get to that in a second).
Once again, Lucasfilm blew away the competition with this game. The graphics are quite innovative, with the landscape being generated fractally and therefore consisting of random jagged mountains. (I wonder if it’s the same fractal algorithm used in Ballblazer to make the theme tune. If you fed these mountains through a sound processor, would you get a solo worthy of Coltrane? Should the game be subtitled “Behind Jazzy Lines?”) When you spy a downed ship, you must land and turn off your engines so the pilot can approach and knock on the door. You must then open the airlock (if you don’t the knocking gets slower and eventually stops, showing that the pilot’s suit melted in the atmosphere and he is now dissolving into a gooey pile of flesh. Nice job, Hero.) and let the pilot in. Those Jaggis are a sly bunch, however, and sometimes they pull the most evil stunt in video game history (yes, even scarier than Doom 3):
You’re dead. The end. This actually happens a lot in later levels. The one memory I have of when this first happened to me led me to never play past about level three. Dude, you want to give a kid nightmares, this is the way to do it.
That aside, it really can be a fun game, although it’s actually kind of slower-paced, due to the flying being rather skippy thanks to hardware limitations. I recommend it for anyone without heart problems.
Again, you may notice that the title I gave this game was “Rescue Mission” and not “Rescue on Fractalus.” This is because, once again, we owned the pirated version, which didn’t have all the graphical frills done. That stupid alien was still in it, though.
That’s it for Disk 12, side 1! Coming up next: a whole slew of games, including Jumpman Junior, H.E.R.O., Java Jim, Froggie, Shooting Arcade, and Star Wars. See you then!
There are games based in space. There are games based around adventurous heroes. There are games based on sports. There are games based on abstract concepts like yellow blobs eating dots and chasing ghosts. But nowhere was there a game based on fish in heat until the release of Salmon Run. (Wait, “fish in heat?” Is that the term? My sense of propriety forces me to keep from searching the Internet for an answer, lest I come across fetish sites too disturbing to contemplate.)
Move over, Indiana Jones! Or in this case, turn blue, Indiana Jones! You play as a little cyan guy with a fedora, collecting the treasures of the ancient Pharaoh Whoever: treasures as beautiful and strange as a golden cat, a golden trophy, a golden cane, a golden, uh, fir tree, and other golden objects too crudely drawn to accurately make out. Also, there are gold keys, but they just open doors (not golden) and don’t count toward your treasure total. There are sixteen rooms in all, each containing one treasure, and when you have collected all sixteen you must make your way triumphantly back to…the title screen! Which is where you started, but for some reason is located in both the bottom and the top of the tomb! (The tomb, of course, wraps around, so you can fall out of the bottom of the tomb and arrive in a screen at the top.)
A regular visitor to this site may wonder why there was a several-month delay between my last reviews and this disk’s review. Well, wonder no more, because it mostly has to do with this game! In it you play a submarine commander on maneuvers in the Mediterranean Sea during WWII, sinking enemy ships. No word on which side you belonged to, Allied or Axis, so I would assume you were actually a semi-neutral Spanish submarine, sinking ships from both sides just for kicks. In any case, you had to creep along silently and avoid depth charges to get within 35 feet of the surface and close enough to a ship to torpedo it, which usually missed. Once you got too damaged you had to go hide along the bottom of the sea and nurse your wounds, sitting there waiting for the sound of more depth charges being unloaded above your head. Once you blew up all the ships then…no, wait, that never happens; the ships keep coming.
All right, nothing too fancy here; it’s pool. Or more specifically, 8-ball. You point the cursor at where you want the cue ball to hit, watch the fluctuating power meter on the left, and hit the trigger when the meter is at the level you want to strike with. Instead of stripes and solids, the balls are red and blue (except the 8-ball and cue ball, of course). It’s two-player, with no computer opponent, and numbers on the top of the screen represent nothing important. I don’t have much else to say here: if you like pool, give it a shot, if not, don’t. Whatever.
For those for whom Submarine Commander was apparently too obtuse of a submarine game, we present Nautilus! You control a submarine, whose mission is to torpedo underwater skyscrapers and steal the inhabitants.
The first thing you may notice on beginning to play Flying Ace is that you’ve immediately died. The second thing you may notice, after you get used to the controls being reversed and finally taking off, is how orange the ground is. This is supposedly some sort of WWI action game, where you are flying your biplane through enemy European territory, yet the landscape looks like at least Egypt, if not southern Nevada. The third thing you may notice is that you can only fly at one speed, your plane isn’t very responsive to your joystick (you have to hold a direction for at least a third of a second for the plane to respond, which doesn’t sound like much but can be death), and that hitting the ground isn’t actually hitting the horizon line or the line where the road is, but some arbitrary zone inbetween there. The fourth thing you may notice, after dying again, is that the gameplay is merely aiming and shooting slow-moving trucks on a highway without crashing into the arbitrary ground, and avoiding some black plane that you can sometimes shoot down or maneuver into the ground, but which comes back one second later. The fifth, and last, thing you may notice is that Blue Max is a much better game with the same premise on the Atari, and so you go play it instead.
Cloning was alive and well in the early ’80’s, as every single game on this disk is a near-clone of another more well-known game (except for Flying Ace, but that doesn’t make that game any good), and this
Pacman goes Mexican in this delightful, yet frightening game! You’re a little chomper dude, chomping away at white dots in a maze. The twist is you’re actually a microscopic chomper, chomping away at microscopic white dots, leaving behind you a trail of, let’s say, crumbs, just to avoid two poop jokes in one review. Also prowling this maze is a number of tumble bugs: little blue nasty creatures. They mostly wander aimlessly through the maze, but if they stumble onto a crumb trail they will probably follow it until they catch up with you. (This means you can throw them off by taking one side of a fork, backtracking, and then taking the road less travelled by. It may make all the difference!) Since you’re so small the game employs a clever technique: it magnifies the area currently around you, and as you move around the maze the magnified area does too, even magnifying the score and time counters if you get near the top or bottom of the maze. In another bit of clever programming, if a bug catches you it uses actual voice simulation to spout something
In Space Invaders aliens try to land on Earth, only to be thwarted by the world’s state-of-the-art defense system and a bunch of late ’70’s college students with a lot of quarters. Apparently, their tried-and-tested method of slowly descending to a planet in rows hadn’t worked this time. So one day one of the generals (for sake of awesome Pacman names let’s call him Clyde) came up with a brilliant plan: descend on a planet in rows, but occasionally break off and fire at the defending ship! But then get back into the row! The row is tradition! You can’t mess with the row! History shows that wars are won by the side that
One day, in the distant past, a frog needed to cross a busy highway and a log-filled river in order to, I dunno, mate or something. This tale of bravery in the face of certain danger seized the imaginations of people everywhere. His story can be told in the game Frogger. However, all was not well in the universe. While this plucky amphibian might entertain the simple plebians with its down-to-earth humble story, what about the upper-middle class? How would it be even conceivable that a golf-playing junior executive with a Lacoste alligator polo, argyle sweater, cuffed chinos, and cordovan loafers would be remotely interested in something so below his station as a simple frog hopping across logs? The simple matter of the fact was: junior executives had no time for helping frogs! They didn’t preserve wetlands; they destroyed them to make room for their gated communities and exclusive country clubs! No game company had the guts to crack into this key demographic.
The first thing you may notice about Qix is its complete disregard for the precedents set by the English language. A Q without a U? How is that pronounced? Kix? Quix? Should I be controlling a kid-tested, mother-approved corn crunch ball? Am I to expect to be fighting windmills to win the heart of my beloved Dulcinea?
While Preppie appealed to the fortunate prep-schooled business executive, Hard Hat Mack targets the other end of the spectrum: the hard-working blue collar construction worker who’s just trying to get in a good day of work before he goes home to his split-level to watch some NASCAR. The game consists of three levels, in which our protagonist is trying to complete various construction-related tasks while avoiding vandals and OSHA representatives. In the first he is laying some flooring and hammering it in with a jack hammer, in the second he is grabbing everyone’s lunchboxes from a death-trap of a construction site, and in the third he is processing some scattered boxes into nails Any contact with the vandal or OSHA guy, as well as falling too far or contact with other dangerous objects such as spitting nailguns, giant chompers, and plain open flames spell doom for our hero, who will contract into his helmet like a turtle (or
Only you can save the universe from random brightly-colored shapes that don’t really move! Onslaught puts you in the place of the defender of all mankind. Flying inside your spaceship shaped like a barn, you must destroy as many random shapes as possible. If you miss any. . .well, you don’t get the points for shooting them. I guess that portends. . .doom for humanity?
APPLES!!!! AAAAAAHHHH!! This game is a good game struggling to break free of a really crappy one. You’re on a network of platforms and ladders, which are also inhabited by antennaed creatures (apples, I guess?) You dig a hole for one, and if it falls in then you hammer its head until it dies. Once they all die you move onto the next level, where there are more of them.
What do you get when you cross Ghostbusters, gladiatorial combat, Pacman, stealth technology, Dragnet, and wizards? The answer: either just the facts about Peter Venkman eating dancing fruit while Spartacus and Merlin fly F-117 Nighthawks, ma’am, or the game Wizard of Wor. You play the role of one or two “worriors” placed inside a maze. There are also several panther-like creatures (called “Burwors”) wandering around that you have to shoot with your proton-pack-looking guns. Once you have killed enough of them, other yellow creatures which look like walking cheese wedges (”Garwors”) and red creatures that resemble bell peppers (”Thorwors”) appear in the maze. However, these creatures are invisible unless they are directly in your line of sight, so you have to use your primitive radar at the bottom of the screen to locate them. Also, all of these creatures can shoot you.
“The evil Gorfian Robot Empire has attacked! Your assignment is to repel the invasion and launch a counterattack. You will engage various hostile spacecraft as you journey toward a dramatic confrontation with the enemy flag ship…”
I have absolutely no idea how this game works. I never learned how when I was a kid. I searched online recently for a manual, a review, anything regarding this game other than a ROM download and a cartridge scan, but to no avail. I assume you are a Jumbo Jet Pilot somehow taking off and landing and stuff. The controls, however, are entirely
I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint fans of WWII simulation games with my review. This game, according to many online sources, is an intricate strategy game wherein you actually control the German forces for once, invading Russia. You have two unit types: infantry and cavalry, and can enter up to eight moves for each unit per turn. Then the computer simulates combat for a week (of game time, not real time), after which the units that were attacked and defeated must retreat. The strength and muster of each unit could be damaged in combat, but could be built up again due to supply lines (contiguous units) In time the winter would set in, and the lakes and rivers would become passable, but the units would be weaker and more vulnerable. After winter there is a short spring, but the game ends in March of 1942, giving the player 41 turns to overcome the evil Russian forces, who outnumber the player in terms of units and land controlled, at least at the beginning of the game.
It has been said that, in terms of creative, unique, and compelling gameplay, the king of the Atari 8-bit games was Synapse Software. With classics I’ve already reviewed such as Claim Jumper, Necromancer, Picnic Paranoia, and Fort Apocalypse, as well as some other excellent games I will be reviewing down the line, Synapse certainly does have a unique style of game. But perhaps no Synapse game is as unique as Drelbs, a two-phase game in which you play a nervous eyeball with feet. Your object during the first phase is to wander around a maze of walls that flip when you press against them. Every time you make a box with these walls (and you’re not inside said box), a phone-ringing sound goes off and the box turns into a abstract expressionist painting (well, OK, it’s just a rectangle with two lines, but it makes me think of a
In Miner 2049er you take on the role of “Bounty Bob” whose job it is to run over every segment of floor in this, mine, I suppose, although what is being mined is never made clear. Every time you run over a bit of floor it turns solid. Once the entire level has been made solid you move to the next one. Sounds pretty simple, eh? There are a few obstacles to this mine inspection process, however. For starters, if you fall too far poor Bob gets squashed inside his own hat, earning him a permanent job as a citizen in
This is probably the only Atari game that revolves around peeing dogs, at least that I’m aware of. In this two-player game, you play as the yellow dog or the red dog. A flashing blue fire hydrant appears on the playing field, and the dogs must race each other to mark the hydrant as his or her own (you can also throw a bone at a flashing hydrant to mark it, but if you miss you have to go pick the bone up before you can throw another one). Every time you get a hydrant you get a point, which is represented by a row of hydrants at the top of the screen. You also get points if your opponent runs into a hydrant of your color, which also stuns him/her. Once you take over the point meter with your color, you win! Ruff! Occasionally, a car honks and drives through, and if your opponent gets run over you automatically win! Woof!
Dig Dug was another classic arcade game published by Namco (the Pacman guys) You’re a little white guy named Dig Dug (presumably American; if he were British or Canadian he’d be Dig Doug and his name’d be more normal), and your object is to dig. The dirt you dig will be dug, and you get points for all the dug dirt you dig. In addition, two types of creatures are found in your dirt: little dwarf-looking dudes with scuba goggles on and some sort of dragons wearing vests that breathe fire (duh). Your real object is to rid your poor garden of these pests. One way is to dig underneath a “rock” which looks way more like an eggplant. The rock will fall, and hopefully crush a dwarf or dragon. The other way is a bit more grotesque: you’ve got a little air pump that you can use to inflate a creature until it explodes in a gory fashion. Well, gory for a game made in 1981, anyway. Well, fine, there’s no gore, but it still looks like a horrible way to go. I’d rather have a rock dropped on me!
Pogoman is a surprising little game, and one of the most influential games I played as a kid. For anyone who’s played this game that may seem surprising, as the game, while fun, is certainly nothing incredibly groundbreaking. You’re a little blue guy on a rolling pogo stick (yeah, I know it doesn’t make sense) rolling through a town at night, although you look more like the international handicapped sign guy without the wheel on the back. Occasionally you have to jump over sewer grates, fire hydrants, and cars. If you hit one you fall down and your pogo stick becomes a neutron star apparently, as it looks like all your limbs get sucked into it until you’re a painful blue blob. There are certain street lights along the route that you can jump up and swipe for extra points, giving this seemingly law-abiding pogo man a dangerous criminal undertone.
This game is so obscure that my blog pops up fourth in a Google search for “race in space” atari. It’s a fun little multiplayer game in which you race a friend to the top of the screen several times. Every time you hit the top of the screen you get a point. Whoever had the most points at the end of three minutes wins! Normal obstacles include the stars that drift across the screen. They’re not really stars, I assume (unless these are freakin’ huge spaceships), since hitting one sends you sprawling back to the beginning.
Fort Apocalypse was one of my favorite games growing up, for the main reason that the game was set in a much bigger world than, say, Dig Dug or Centipede. According to Wikipedia, you’re a Rocket Copter pilot flying for the Sky Dwellers, flying into Fort Apocalypse, a dangerous Kralthan prison located deep within the Earth’s mantle. What that translates to is you’re flying a yellow helicopter that shoots and drops bombs in a big system of caverns, with tanks, little floating dudes that move slowly back and forth (see Dig Dug), and a purple helicopter flown by a guy so bent on your destruction that he often flies into walls trying to get to you rather than, you know, flying around obstacles trying to stay alive. Those poor, gullible Kralthans, with their Kralthan ways, deep in the Earth’s mantle, I tell you, boy.
And now, another sports game for you hopeless computer game nerds. Fortunately, this game is a lot easier to figure out than 