Frenzy

Frenzy is Berzerk 2. Typically, most older gamers seem to appreciate Berzerk (1980) much more than Frenzy(1982); Berzerk receives considerably more internet chatter. From a historical perspective this makes sense because Berzerk sold many more units than its frightfully awesome sequel. Both games were created by Alan McNeil, supposedly based on a dream.

Berzerk represents both life, and, more specifically, the archetypical nightmare. You start, but no matter what you die. The nightmare motif is apparent through the minimalistic graphics, only the basic symbols required to transmit information are used. The "running man" resembles modern signs for "man," and the robots, similarly, use very few pixels to represent the concept. This simple transmission of information allows the player's imagination to run wild. However, death dominates the Great Electric Maze, so death dominates the player's imagination. Suddenly, the horrible smile on Evil Otto's face seems more sinister and the robots prove that despite all of your human intellegence you are outgun, horribly outmatched, with absolutely no hope of victory, only the possibility of a glorious death.

Frenzy expands upon this formula by adding skeletons, ghosts, and more horrors. Every 4 screens you'll encounter a "boss room" which has a special tile. The Giant Evil Otto punishes attacks on his kind, the telsa coils power the robots and when shot all robots will stop moving. The mainframe computer, when destroyed, causes the robots to go insane, or break into a "frenzy." Finally a haunted robot factory that produces ghosts.



The new enemies are a nice variation on the old robot AI. Skeletons are difficult to hit from above or below, and ghosts are harder to hit horizontally (but only when attacking from above the ghost, if you attack horizontally at the feet of the ghost it is still very easy). But best of all are the walls. The old electric walls are gone, replaced by destructible walls and mirror walls. Mirrors reflect bullets (slightly changing the angle in a predictable way) and destructible walls allow the player to blast an impromptu exit from the current board. The board is also subtly different from Berzerk's. Berzerk uses a 3x5 "grid" and Frenzy uses a 4x6. With the increase in "rooms," Frenzy increases the amount of robots per board dramatically (I've seen 24 robots on a screen!) No walls are electric in Frenzy, making pixel-perfect shots easier in certain situations.

Mirrors are your friend, and getting robots to kill each other is the key to success. Here are some other tips:

1. Find a "safe spot" as soon as possible.
2. Try to enter into the bottom-right "room."
3. Set the dipswitches to give you an extra life every 1000 points.

But in all honestly, the game is designed to award an extra life at every 3000 points, so, unlike Berzerk, Frenzy can theoretically be played for 64,000 screens (at which point the game would crash). Therefore, Frenzy is a more uplifting look at robot destruction, with a cheerful Halloween theme and amazing, colorful artwork.

Frenzy is, by far, the better game. Proponents of Berzerk will praise it's minimalistic approach and 1980 charm, and I too applaud Berzerk; however, Frenzy provides a more complex world without exceeding the general concept of Berzerk. Frenzy offers the player more flexibility when designing a creative, elegant solution to a difficult board. Skeletons, ghosts, mirrors, and boss rooms bring the nightmare into sharper focus. The hieroglyphics of Frenzy are more vivid and terrifying than its cuneiform ancestor. These games, along with Robotron:2084, define the robot-shooting genre.

Golden Age of Video Games

I've been touring the arcades in town lately, and it gets to be depressing. I remember growing up in the early 90s; arcade machines everywhere. The grocery store might have a Pac-Man or Donkey Kong machine. Then, the machines started to disappear. Slowly at first, but a few years ago I realized that almost no good arcade machines are still around. It's incredibly curious. There used to be stragglers, machines that seemed to remain timeless in laundry mats, hotels, and restaurants. There used to be people lined up at the mall to play Marvel vs. Capcom 2 after school.



I started thinking more about the arcade when I heard about this documentary: King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters. It chronicles two men trying to claim the Donkey Kong world record. It's been rather popular lately, both on the internet, and, oddly, in mainstream media. It's a great film, and I highly recommend it.

The film doesn't just talk about Donkey Kong, it shows classic gamers living in 2007. These guys are out of place, and want to live in 1983, in a perpetual arcade. And who can blame them? The lights, sounds and atmosphere made the arcade seem futuristic, psychedelic, and magical. They were places of pure electricity.



I was born in 1985, and, consequently, missed the entire golden age of video games. But bits and pieces of the 80s trickled down into the early 90s, just late enough for me to remember the arcade. This wasn't my world, but it fascinates me. I identify more with the NES, and started playing video games at 4, in 1989, when I received one. And in a way, the gap is bigger than it seems. The arcade is a social place, where high scores matter. Somewhere along the line, we decided to stay inside rather than go out, and spent our money on carts instead of quarters. We started to play games that could be conquered by mortals.

So I am giving the arcade a personal revival. I played Defender and Robotron: 2084 all day. I am memorizing the Pac-Man patterns. I would have spent 30 bucks on a real Frogger machine.



The second (Golden) age of games was the most crucial in history. Games stopped being science projects and started becoming art, created through hard work by a few people, for entertainment. The pixelated aesthetics and bright colors on a black background can be an amazing site. And to have that built into a giant statues which covered the nation... what a truly impressive spectacle Earth must have seemed to aliens.

There is a certain satisfaction to playing an arcade machine. It's bigger than you are, and if it were alive it would kill you. But it's nice to see that much dedication, the materials to build a huge cabinet, a TV monitor set aside strictly for one game, artwork painted on the side, all surrounding a few thousand lines of code and placed in front of you by some magnificent phenomenon of human ingenuity.



Go see King of Kong, it does a better job of discussing arcades than me. Hopefully Chasing Ghosts, another movie about the arcade scene, will get a DVD release.

And one final note to my readers, Brawl madness has passed, and I am once again a functioning member of the internet community. Expect updates every Monday from now on! I might be a little late to the game, but high scores are forever, and I've got plenty of time.