April
1 , 2003
When
it comes to the videogame, I think there's something to be said
for simplicity. This is a belief I have long held; no doubt, this
is because I grew up in the 1980s, when videogames were a genuine
pop culture fad. The allure of the video arcade, the computerized
rush of adrenaline, the unique challenge of reflexes and cunning;
all this could be had in five minutes or less.
Of
course, I still enjoy all the modern advances of our modern computer
age, and I wouldn't change it for the world. Yet, somehow in the
days of Quake and Tomb Raider and The Sims
and the like, we're losing that simple spark that made those games
long ago so fun to play. Videogames are losing their immediacy.
Every developer wants to make the next epic, 100-hour-long virtual
movie. Sometimes, I wonder if the budgets drive the project, or
the other way around.
Where's
the instant quick fix? No software publisher would give ten seconds
to any of the classic videogames if they were dropped on their desks.
Too short, too simple, not enough extras or Easter Eggs. Maybe I
am just imagining things. Maybe nostalgia and adulthood is creeping
in. Maybe I'm more right than I want to let on.
I'm
reflecting on the state of contemporary gaming as I play another
quick round of Ballblazer on my Atari 800 emulator. Here
is a true classic of the home computer era, so simple, so stripped-down,
so honest of what it is.
Ballblazer
is, essentially, a one-on-one soccer match set in outer space. You
control a spaceship, and proceed to carry a glowing ball into your
opponent's goal. That's basically it. The whole premise can be grasped
in five seconds, and probably mastered in five minutes. It is the
perfect Zen essence of the video arcade game.
This
1985 game was the second release from the newly-formed Lucasfilm
Games. Their first effort was a clever space rescue game called
Rescue on Fractalus, which immediately heralded a potent
new voice on the scene. It has never been lost on me that Lucasfilm
could have sold on the Star Wars name, and simply rake in the cash;
they chose instead to prove themselves with unique, original work.
They chose wisely.
Lucasfilm
Games, later Lucasarts, became extremely successful with some of
the most memorable computer games ever made, like Monkey Island
and Sam and Max and Grim Fandango. By the time
the Star Wars and Indiana Jones games finally arrived, Lucasarts
was among the finest gaming studios. Is it at all ironic that the
games based on their movies are so formulaic and uninspired by comparison?
But
I'm getting away from the subject here. Ballblazer remains
a brilliant example of a videogame at its most basic, while still
offering an innovation or two. Flying across the playfield, your
ship must fire the ball against moving goalposts; as you score more
points, the goalposts shrink, making it harder to make those final
points. Your opponent, on the other hand, benefits from a larger
target. As an added challenge, each goal is worth one, two, or three
points, depending on how far away from the goal you were when shooting.
The
scoring is just clever. Each player has five points on each side,
but victory comes from scoring the full ten. When you score your
sixth point, you literally erase his score. There's a great tug-of-war
at play in Ballblazer; if it seems there is heightened
tension for both players, you'd be right. There were countless matches
over the years where my friends or I could not score those final
points and win the game - the other guy keeps clawing back, and
we're both sweating.
There
are no extra modes, or hordes of options; there are no leagues or
different stadiums or celebrity endorsements. There is only a game
that feels timeless, flows smoothly, and never grows tired. I have
to admit that the game's first-person view, racing down that wonderful
green chessboard, has not aged a day; if anything, I appreciate
the visuals more than in the '80s. No home console could match these
fast, smooth graphics for years (look at the awful NES version);
in no small way a technical achievement in 3D.
And
then there's the music. Who can watch Ballblazer for five
minutes and not come away humming the theme song in their head?
The signature song, a blazing bit of boogey blues improvisation,
stands as one of the finest songs in videogame history. If ever
a song perfectly catches the mood, this is it.
There
was an attempt to bring Ballblazer into the modern era
with a Playstation sequel in 1997, but it was all wrong. The sequel
was overburdened with bells and whistles, at the cost of the signature
gameplay. Who wanted color commentary in the first place? Ballblazer
never needed to be "modernized," it was modern to
begin with. It's just the pictures that got small.
Here
is another wonderfully competitive multiplayer classic; is there
any surprise that these are the most loved of all videogames? Lucasarts
seems to have lost their way these days with their over-reliance
on the movie-based games; they would be better served to remember
their roots, and why games like Ballblazer are so good.
If they had any sense, they would port this game to the Gameboy
Advance in a minute - they would realize that games should still
be games. |
