Colecovision
Not far into the early 80’s home video game boom, Coleco – the shortened name of the Connecticut Leather Company, which had gotten into the toy and game business with such products as air hockey tables and minor sporting equipment – was already a player, having snagged some of the biggest arcade game licenses for translation into tabletop games with colorful arcade marquees and cabinet art (miniaturized, of course) and glowing LED screens. But Coleco also seized a golden opportunity by creating the high-end ColecoVision system, probably the most advanced home video game platform available through 1983, and continuing to license popular games from Nintendo and Sega – neither of which, at the time, had created their own home video game systems (almost unthinkable now, isn’t it?).
Coleco did things right. Where the Atari 5200 offered no compensation to consumers that – hopefully – would step up from the Atari 2600, one of the earliest ColecoVision peripherals was an adapter that would allow Atari 2600 games to be played on this new system, making Coleco a shoe-in for 2600 owners seeking an upgrade. ColecoVision also appeared just in time to take advantage of another crowd of Atari 2600 users – those who were disgruntled with some of the more pathetic Atari 2600 cartridges on the market (namely Pac-Man). With these two factors working for it, ColecoVision gained a much wider audience than Atari’s 5200.
Though later attempts to add to the ColecoVision legacy capsized – namely the ColecoVision-compatible ADAM home computer – and though Coleco itself eventually went out of business, this is one of the more fondly remembered home video game systems.
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Atari 5200 SuperSystem
Not long after the Atari 2600 debuted, Atari tried to extend its market dominance into the home computer market with the Atari 400 and Atari 800, home computers with, respectively, 16k and 48k of RAM, the ability to add disk drives and modems, and more. But at the heart of both machines was the same industry that had made Atari a household name to begin with – both of Atari’s computers required RF connectors to use a TV as a display, and both had cartridge slots for games.
After failing to set the young home computer market on fire – at that time, Apple and IBM had already conquered the world with the Apple IIe and the original PC – Atari took its computers’ processors, put them in a keyboard-less casing, repackaged the cartridges, and created the Atari 5200 – rather more expensive than the Atari 2600, but capable of coming much closer to emulating everyone’s favorite arcade games.
It’s easy to criticize Atari for making the 5200 unit completely incompatible with the far more prolific Atari 2600 – and more to the point, incompatible with most 2600 owners’ growing collection of cartridges which would be useless with a new platform – and this made the Atari 5200 strictly a high-end luxury niche platform with a small audience. By the time they wised up and put a 2600 Adapter on the shelves, it was too late.
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- Hardware review: Wico Command Control Joystick & Keypad
Vectrex
In the early days of the arcade, there were two approaches to graphics – raster (like a traditional TV or computer display), which was driven by processors that offered color but not very good resolution, or vector, also known as X/Y graphics. Raster TV displays work by using a series of “guns” to fire electrons at a screen; to fill the entire screen, the display constantly scans and redraws every horizontal line of the picture. X/Y displays drew only what they needed to: the guns in an X/Y display would fire an intense beam of electrons only at those portions of the screen that required something to be drawn, resulting in a very sharp, very bright display, but one which left plenty of “black” space. At first vector graphics were strictly black & white, though later innovations brought color to vector displays, though usually at the cost of equipment that would run hot and break down easily. Vector graphics drove medical displays for years before gamers became familiar with vector as the kind of display that drove games like Asteroids, Warrior, Tempest, Star Wars and Omega Race.
Vector graphics games were incredibly hard to translate to home consoles, since even the most advanced consoles were generally considered to have rather chunky graphics. (Some attempted translations were so clumsy, in fact, that there were abandoned before ever hitting the market – such as Atari’s version of its hit game Tempest for the Atari 2600.) GCE engineer Jay Smith had an idea, however – if you couldn’t bring vector graphics home without an X/Y monitor, then why not bring the monitor home? Together with his team at CGE, Smith devised the Vectrex, a stand-alone game system which, while pricey, would delight mom and dad by freeing up the TV. Among video game fans circa 1982, Vectrex was the ultimate status symbol – it was a little arcade game unto itself, but with cartridges that would let its owners play different games. Even now, a working Vectrex is still one of the high points of any classic video game collection.
As enthusiastic about Vectrex as game players were, game makers were too. Cinematronics, one of the companies that pioneered vector games, licensed games like Star Castle for the first time. The makers of Berzerk, Stern, licensed that game even though a similar license had already been granted to Atari. And Milton Bradley, the board and card game giant that had only put out the most tentative feelers in the video game industry, saw Vectrex as the future of that industry and bought the company to bring the system (and its future profits) under its wing.
Vectrex, however, shared one drawback with its arcade cousins: the machine generated only black & white graphics on its 9-inch vector monitor. Built into the monitor housing were tabs that held sturdy, colorful transparent overlays in place to create the illusion of spot color, a trick that hadn’t been used since the days of the Magnavox Odyssey. But at the same time, Jay Smith and his team were quietly working on a color version of Vectrex, and they constructed at least one working prototype.
But time ran out for Vectrex, as it did for every other system in the early 1980s with the video game industry crash that leveled the playing field and drove many of the players out of business – or at least out of the industry and back into the business of making more traditional toys, games or computers. Yet even without the crash, Vectrex was a system living on borrowed time, as vector graphics fell out of favor with arcade game designers. The resolution of raster graphics technology was making huge advances even as the industry floundered, and advances in computer processing power were closing another gap as well. Programmers who had favored vector graphics often said that with an X/Y display’s faster draw and scan rate, it was easier to create scaleable 3-D graphics such as those seen in Battlezone and many others. The nature of drawing only point-to-point graphics made it easier to program 3-D graphics with limited processor power. But faster, better processors were quickly becoming available, capable of realistically scaling and rotating 3-D graphics on a raster monitor without sacrificing the speed of the game. The push toward photorealism was on, and vector graphics were left by the wayside, a brief detour in the evolution of the arcade – and an even briefer detour at home.
Vectrex remains a prized collectible and a completely unique evolutionary cul-de-sac, to borrow a phrase from Arthur C. Clarke, in home video gaming. Modern programmers have taken up the cause of expanding the Vectrex library with impressive results, and have even created new controllers. Thanks to these dedicated fans, the Vectrex lives on. Furthermore, Jay Smith and his former GCE colleagues released the entire Vectrex library into the public domain, ceding any copyright claims to the games they programmed at the height of the early 80s home video game gold rush; those games can now be enjoyed with startling accuracy through emulation.
But only on a raster monitor.
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Mattel Aquarius
Was it a video game console…or a home computer?
In the sad case of Mattel’s Aquarius, the company putting it on the market simply didn’t seem to know. And of all the failed attempts of the early 1980s video game manufacturers to turn their game machines into computers, Aquarius was one of the most humbling fumbles of the entire era.
The brainchild of Hong Kong-based Radofin Electronics, Aquarius seemed – at least from its outward design aesthetic – to be a study in what would happen if Mattel’s Intellivision and the My First Computer keyboard module Atari touted for the VCS had a kid. The master console itself was attractive enough, with blue rubber keys on a black-and-white casing; at a distance, the Aquarius almost looks like a slight variation on the TI 99/4A with its horizontal cartridge/expansion slot to the right of the keyboard. The “Mini-Expander Module” was needed to play games on the Aquarius, consisting of an extension to the cartridge slot and two detachable Intellivision-style controllers (though smaller, smoother and easier to hold), each with the standard “joy-disc” and a six-button keypad (as opposed to its predecessor’s twelve keys).
Built into the master component itself was a bastardized version of BASIC licensed to Radofin by Microsoft (which was, at the time, still marketing such now-unthinkable products as CP/M operating systems for the Apple II). Many essential BASIC functions were missing, however; a more useful BASIC was to have been included with an ultimately unreleased expansion module for those interested in learning computer programming. (Click here for the keyboard overlay for MS Basic.)
The first (and, truly, only) wave of games released for the Aquarius were all culled from previously-released Intellivision titles. They were revamped for the new hardware, of course, but not that much was changed – if anything, the underpowered hardware of the Aquarius meant that its versions were inferior to the original Intellivision titles. That handful of titles also proved to be the last – within half a year, as the video game industry crashed and Mattel’s electronics division racked up a staggering multi-million-dollar loss, Mattel exercised a contractual option to kill the Aquarius project. The remaining inventory of hardware was sold back to Radofin Electronics (at a loss, naturally), who tried to market the Aquarius independently through 1988 before declaring it dead.
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Commodore 64
According to the Guinness Book of World Records, the Commodore 64 still stands today as the best selling computer of all time. Its revolutionary graphic and sound chips combined with an insanely affordable price propelled the Commodore line of computers into the history books. Its 15,000+ game library didn’t hurt, either.
In the early 1980’s, three major companies competed for the exploding home computer market. While IBM marketed their computers to businessmen and Apple infiltrated the school system, the Commodore 64 shined in one very specific area: games. With a video chip (VIC) that produced an unmatched 320 x 240 resolution and 16 simultaneous colors and a sound chip (SID) capable of 3 independent voices, Commodore games quickly surpassed the games available for other computers. In fact, it was not uncommon for Apple and IBM games to feature Commodore screenshots in their marketing materials. Many people never got past the image of the Commodore 64 as a “gaming console with a disk drive.”
The Commodore 64 launched in 1982 for $595 and had dropped to $200 by 1983 (compare to the Apple IIe, which sold for $1395 in 1983). The basic system came with 64k of RAM and had BASIC and DOS built in. The Commodore 64 could be hooked to a monitor or directly to your television through an RF adapter. Games were available in three formats: cartridge, cassette tape (more prevalent in Europe), or disk drive (more prevalent in the US). One of the handiest features of the Commodore 64 was its compatibility with Atari 2600 joysticks.
The Commodore 64 wasn’t without problems. For one, Commodore systems tended to run hot. Really hot. I personally owned two fans for my system, one for the computer’s power supply and the other for my disk drive. Another big complaint early in the system’s life was the slow disk drive access times, a problem that was virtually eliminated with Epyx’s Fast Load Cartridge (and several clones that followed).
The Commodore 64 appeared in several variations over the years. In 1985, Commodore released the Commodore 128 (which could be started in either C64 or C128 mode). The Commodore 64 also appeared in a 25-pound portable version (the SX-64), and in a sleeker case which resembled the C128 and Amiga (called the Commodore 64C). Software and peripherals were completely interchangeable between these models. Later computers in the Commodore line, including the Commodore Plus 4 and the Commodore 16, would not run most Commodore 64 programs – and their sales reflected this.
In 1985, Commodore released the Amiga 1000, a spiritual successor to the Commodore 64. The Amiga contained even better graphics and sound capabilities than the Commodore 64 did, but many loyal Commodore 64 owners refused to give up their little beige boxes. 12 years after the launch of the 64, Commodore closed its doors and was eventually sold off in 1995.
While my dad had both an Apple II and an IBM XT in the living room, I had a Commodore 64 in my bedroom. I spent many nights not only playing the latest games, but talking to friends via BBSs and of course, trading games (which wasn’t nearly the big deal it is today). From Archon to Zork, I set out to play every one of those 15,000 titles. Throughout the 10 years I had my Commodore hooked up, I got through about 4,000 of them.
In an age of gigabits and gigahertz, it’s amazing that a machine that runs at 1 megahertz and holds 180k per floppy still has fans. Not only is new Commodore 64 software constantly appearing, but new pieces of hardware are appearing as well. Did you know you could connect a Commodore 1541 disk drive to your PC and transfer games back and forth? There are also devices available that allow you to connect IDE hard drives to your C64. There’s even a broadband adapter and new operating system that will allow your Commodore 64 to run TCP/IP and access the Internet! Tulip Computers, the current owners of the Commodore brand name, have even released a “30-in-1” Joystick, with 30 classic Commodore 64 games in one easy to play package. The popularity and legacy of the Commodore 64 is undeniable.
The majority of this section of Phosphor Dot Fossils focuses on what made the Commodore 64 so great and what kept it alive all those years – the games. Whether you prefer emulation or the real thing, you owe it to yourself to check out the games on this list. For nearly a decade, the Commodore 64 was the gaming system to which all other computer games were compared, many of which still hold up today.
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Zork I: The Great Underground Empire
The Game: You are standing in an open field west of a white house, with a boarded front door. There is a mailbox here. (Infocom, 1982)
Memories: A direct descendant of the Dungeons & Dragons-inspired all-text mainframe adventure games of the 1970s, only with a parser that can pick what it needs out of a sentence typed in plain English. In truth, Zork‘s command structure still utilized the Tarzan-English structure of the 70s game (i.e. “get sword,” “fight monster”), but the parser was there to filter out all of the player’s extraneous parts of speech – anything that wasn’t a noun or a verb, the game had no use for. Many a player just went the “N” (north), “U” (up), “I” (inventory) route anyway.
Taipan!
The Game: The coast of 19th century China could be a dangerous place – pirates lay in wait for passing (and relatively defenseless) ships, and that’s just the obvious danger. The buyer’s and seller’s markets in dry goods, weapons, silk and opium could pose just as much of a hazard to an independent trader’s finances. And then there’s Li Yuen’s protection racket… (Avalanche Productions [designed by Art Canfil], 1982)
Memories: One of the first trading strategy games I ever encountered, Taipan! has been a favorite of mine for something like 20 years. When I played it as just one of many games in an all-day weekend screen grab-o-rama, I found myself playing the thing for hours.
Princess & Frog 8K
The Game: You’re a frog who has a hot date with the princess in the castle. But in order to reach her, you’ll have to cross four lanes of jousting knight traffic – avoiding the knights’ horses and lances – and then you’ll have to cross the moat on the backs of snakes and alligators, all without ending up in the drink when they submerge. (There’s also occasionally a lady frog you can hook up with en route to the castle; apparently this whole thing with the princess doesn’t have any guarantee of exclusivity.) When you reach the castle, you can hop into any open window, but if you see a pair of lips in that window, that’s where the princess is. (Romox, 1982)
Memories: It probably doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Romox’s Princess & Frog is, in fact, a cut-rate Frogger clone. And it really doesn’t even bother to change the game play at all – Princess & Frog is to Frogger what the arcade ripoff Pirhana was to Pac-Man: it tries to get by with changing the graphics and nothing else.
Turbo
The Game: It’s pretty straightforward…you’re zipping along in your Formula One race car, trying to avoid other drivers and obstacles along the way while hauling a sufficient quantity of butt to win the race. (Coleco [under license from Sega], 1982)
Memories: One of the seminal first-person racing games of the 80s, Turbo was one of several Sega coin-ops that caught the eye of Coleco. The one hurdle in bringing it to the ColecoVision? Having to invent a whole new controller that would be similar enough to Turbo‘s arcade control scheme without being so specific as to rule out using the driving controller for other games in the future. And thus was born Expansion Module #2, a steering wheel controller with a detachable “gas pedal.”
Type & Tell
The Game: You type! It talks! And occasionally you have to throw the damnedest misspellings at it to get it to say the simplest words. And despite the back of the box claiming that it “plays fun games,” it’s much more likely that it’ll just make some fun (and weird) sounds. (Magnavox, 1982)
Memories: A pack-in cartridge included with the Voice of Odyssey 2, Type & Tell is actually a barely-glorified Odyssey version of Speak ‘n’ Spell, except everything it says is in a monotone robotic voice which one of the video game magazines of the time once described as “Darth Vader on quaaludes.” (One of these days, remind me to tell you about my mother’s reaction when I asked her, after reading that review, what quaaludes were.)