March 11, 2012 scottcjones 1Comment
Rockstar looks good on a resume, under the "They Destroyed My Life" section.

Remember the old Hollywood saw about how everyone in Los Angeles–gardeners, cashiers, accountants, short-order cooks, etc.–is writing a screenplay in their spare time? These days it feels like the exact same thing is happening in the videogame industry. Everyone, it seems, regardless of one’s station in life, has an idea for a can’t-miss videogame pitch.

Not all that long ago, videogames were these impenetrable, mysterious objects. Case in point: old-school arcade cabinets. The few times in my life when I’ve had the opportunity to get a look inside one of those things–and let me tell you, I felt like Indiana Jones peering into the Ark in these moments–all I could ever really make out was a bird’s nest-like mass of colored wires. Understanding how those wires fit together to create Defender seemed like something that my slow brain could never possibly comprehend.

Case in point number two: game cartridges. Those gray-colored wedges of sturdy, impenetrable plastic had one painfully obvious weakness: the open slot at the cartridge bottom which, when peered into, would reveal only the slightest bit of the delicate workings within. Touching those inner workings, putting your finger into the slot, was something only an insane person would do. Doing so, I was certain, would trigger some sort of self-destruct sequence within the cartridge, promptly rendering it useless.

Videogames were once these mysterious creations that were not to be understood by the mind (or at least not by pedestrian minds, like mine) or to even be touched and/or sullied by human fingers. But in the last five or so years, the mystery of how games are made has been all but banished. Now, there’s so much damn transparency in this once-opaque medium that everyone–and I mean everyone–is making games. Even as I type this from my desk in downtown Vancouver on a Sunday afternoon in March, I’ll bet anything that within 50 feet of me, at this very moment, someone is diligently working on a game of some kind.

I visited the bustling Business & Career Center at the Game Developers Conference in San Francisco last week, wading into the sea of students and budding game designers, all waiting in Space Mountain-caliber lines to drop off their portfolios at Valve, Insomniac and–yes–even Funzio. I looked at these people, most of whom would gladly give Markus “Notch” Persson a thorough hamstring massage if it meant getting an interview at his company, and I wondered why I personally have never felt the gravitational pull to make a videogame. Why, I thought, have all of your game industry-related fantasies always been on the media side of the fence?

And then I remembered something that I hadn’t thought about in decades: I did want to make a game once.

Onwards now to stage 7-7. I have to say, completing this stage left me feeling pretty darn pleased with myself. In fact, it made me feel so good that I suggest you skip reading the rest of my notes until you’ve given it a fair shot yourself. Yes, that’s right, look away from these very wise words, and spread your wings and fly, little bird. I’ll wait here. Doot, de, doot, de doot. Oh, you’re back? Well, that was fast. Now, let’s compare notes.

Here are two bits of knowledge that will help you immensely during this stage: 1. you have plenty of time here, so loiter and experiment all you like in this stage, and 2. remember that, when triggered in succession, portable bridge and portable ladder power-ups will endure, as a unit, as long as the most recently-triggered portable bridge or ladder. For example: trigger ladder one, and the clock starts ticking on the amount of time ladder one will last. But trigger ladder two before ladder one expires, and ladder one will now last as long as ladder two lasts. And so on. This is important because in order to complete this stage you’ll need to trigger three portable power-ups–the bridge and the two ladders–in rapid succession in order to solve the stage.

Enemies abound in stage 7-7. Spend a few minutes at the start of the stage killing everything in site. Wipe everything out. You do this by grabbing the key, then jumping into the water, and hurling the key at the Evil Fish/Piranha and the squid (which number three in total). Try to take care of the weaponized key, and collect it after each of your “bad-intentions” tosses, so that it can be used to murder subsequent fish/squid. Notice how the squid and fish always turn upside down after they are killed. They make a “blurp” sound, then slowly float down through the bottom of the screen.

When the area is clear, let the key magically teleport back to its original spot. Then take the stairs down to the underwater sub-basement level where an Uncle Fester-like fish is patrolling. He’s hunched over and seems to be in a hurry to get from one end of the basement to the other. Bump into him all you like–from what I could tell, he seems to be perfectly harmless. Who knows–maybe this Uncle Fester fish is Nintendo’s idea of comic relief. Anyway, down here in Uncle Fester’s basement you’ll find the portable bridge power-up. Trigger it, and position one tick below the exit door up above. The familiar “Portable Song” starts to play. When it runs out, the portable bridge will vanish. So it’s up to you to make it to the next deployable object, and reset the song, before it does.

Hustle along Uncle Fester’s hallway to the right. Trigger the portable ladder–the Portable Song resets (phew)–and climb the ladder up through the smaller series of blocks and back into the water. If you did not heed my advice and murder the squid who patrols here with the key, then be careful to avoid the squid who I told you to kill. And if you die, I  will get up in your face and say, “I told you so.”

Quickly swim up to the floating ice-block platforms above. Scamper out of the water, and climb up them, triggering the next ladder. Notice how the Portable Song resets again. That’s good. Position the ladder next to Pauline’s dumb umbrella, climb up to the level where the key is located, grab it, then skillfully fall off the edge down to the portable bridge you deployed ages ago (doesn’t it feel that way?).

Head through the exit door, and you’re done. Now, I know that gamers aren’t big into high-fiving. But after today’s stage, you should look for someone to high-five with. Dogs are OK. Moms are OK, too. High-five complete? Excellent. Good work out there, people.

One thought on “Man Vs. Donkey Kong: Day 71

  1. There’s a part of today’s low barrier to entry in the game dev world that reminds me of the 80s garage hobbyists, who would diligently craft a game, and (assuming it wasn’t complete crap*) ship it out in little Ziplock bags to turn a profit. That sense of one man (or woman) vs. the tech has been brought back thanks to the huge success of mobile platforms and the many resources that exist out there today.

    *Mind you, ET did technically sell a lot of cartridges.

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