Andrew Newton presents a selection of retro games that put their heroes through hell for the love of their lives…
Valentine’s Day is a special one for couples, it’s about loving one another, red roses, candlelight, and not forgetting the all-important date, but retro games taught us something slightly different. Love is about being set on fire, falling into spikes, being punched by dinosaurs, and occasionally fighting demons in your underpants.
In the early days of gaming, rescuing your beloved wasn’t just a plotline; it was about making gamers struggle through difficult levels, getting frustrated at that bit you got stuck on, and proving that romance in the old days required unreasonable stamina and at least one perfectly timed jump….
Donkey Kong (1981) – Arcade, NES, Game & Watch and most 8-bit home computers
Before he was saving kingdoms, racing karts or attending football and tennis tournaments, Mario was “Jumpman” — a carpenter whose girlfriend (Pauline) had been carried off by an ape with impressive upper-body strength.
As Pauline stands at the top of a construction site, Donkey Kong hurls oil barrels down the girders like it’s a hobby. There’s no tragic backstory, no emotional cutscenes. Just, “She’s up there. Get on with it.”
Arcade version of Donkey Kong
The plot of Donkey Kong is beautifully simple. Climb girders, jump over oil barrels, climb ladders, then start again because the limited-time hammer vanished just as a barrel was in front. However, get to the top, and Donkey Kong would grab Pauline and disappear onto the next level.
This example of early gaming romance – scale something dangerous and hope gravity is briefly on your side, is something that was copied by many developers on the 8-bits, there’s Dinky Kong, Killer Kong, Killer Gorilla, Krazy Kong, Monkey Kong and many, many more.
Spectrum version of Donkey Kong
Ghosts ‘n Goblins (1985) – Arcade, Spectrum, Commodore 64, Amiga and more
If you think Dark Souls was difficult, it was nothing compared to Ghosts ‘n Goblins. It was complete humiliation, especially for poor Sir Arthur. Players take control of the brave Sir Arthur and set out as a proud knight in shining armour. Within seconds he’s reduced to hopping around a graveyard in heart-patterned boxer shorts because a zombie brushed past him slightly. One hit removed his armour and his dignity!
Arcade version
However, for Princess Prin-Prin, Arthur soldiers on. Through the zombie hordes, swarms of vultures, flying demons. But then comes the most evil masterstroke from the developer, one that makes me convinced they were going through a difficult divorce. You finally defeat the last boss to be told it was all an illusion and that you have to do it all over again.
Sir Arthur literally goes through Hell twice, for love!
Arcade version
Prince of Persia (1989) – Amiga, Atari ST, Apple II, Sam Coupe
When Prince of Persia was released in ‘89, it replaced the struggle of not losing your armour with something far worse: the need for precision and a ticking clock.
Players had sixty actual minutes. That was it. Escape the dungeon, defeat the guards, survive the spike floors and rescue the Princess before she’s forced to marry the gloriously smug Jaffar. No pressure. Just the entire relationship resting on your ability to judge distance properly.
Amiga version
This wasn’t a game you could blag your way through. Button-mashing achieved nothing. “That’ll do” jumping was nonsense. You had to commit like a Shaolin monk to make that running jump. Hesitate for a fraction of a second and your hero would fold himself into a spike pit like he was auditioning for dramatic tragedy of the year.
He falls on those spikes like a pro. Amiga version
As for the sword fights, the animation was so smooth, almost human, that every defeat felt like a personal failing. You’d blame the keyboard, the joystick, the alignment of the planets, but deep down you knew. You mistimed it. Again.
It turned out that Love is about timing. And occasionally drinking an unidentified potion and hoping for the best.
Chuck Rock (1991) – Amiga, Atari ST, Acorn Archimedes, Mega Drive, C64, Master System
The first thing worth noting about this fab little platformer is the intro screen, where Chuck and his chums have formed a band and play the game’s music (see above screenshot).
In a nice little intro, Chuck Rock is chilling out in front of his Stone Age telly, while his wife Ophelia is doing chores. Suddenly, she is kidnapped by a smirking rival named Gary Gritter (a very pre-historic name), and so Chuck embarks on a prehistoric rescue mission armed mainly with his stomach…. Yes, his stomach.
Chuck Rock is a colourful, daft and unmistakably early ’90s game filled with enemies that look harmless, but aren’t. Dinosaurs and other enemies wobble comically across platforms, which Chuck gets rid of with his beer belly or a conveniently placed boulder. Boulders also serve as platforms to reach higher places.
Chuck gets ready to bounce some baddies off his belly. Amiga
But beneath the silliness is the same motivation: someone you love has been taken, and you will journey through pre-historic jungles, lava, swamps and suspiciously bouncy wildlife to get them back.
It’s wonderfully daft but you have to respect a man who looks like he enjoys a sit-down but still clears entire Stone Age ecosystems for romance.
Renegade III: The Final Chapter (1989) – Amstrad CPC, Commodore 64, MSX, ZX Spectrum
Now, let’s be honest, Renegade III is the weakest game on this list. It lacks the polish of its predecessors, it’s glitchy, has bad collision detection and was a massive disappointment to those who expected a good beat-em-up experience, but in terms of romantic escalation, it’s unmatched.
Your girlfriend is kidnapped by an enemy from the future who escapes… through time. So naturally, Renegade follows him back to the time of the dinosaurs, ancient Egypt, through the medieval times and into the future. As Renegade journeys through these historical pit stops, players get the opportunity to punch absolutely everyone. Dinosaurs, knights, Egyptian mummies and robots.
Renegade III on the Spectrum shows ancient Egypt to be a jumble of yellow blocks.
It’s chaotic. It’s historically irresponsible to the point where Doctor Emmet Brown would weep, but it’s the story of a man who tears through the fabric of time itself for love. You can’t fault his effort.
A dinosaur waits to be backwards kicked, but this isn’t Target Renegade.
Love was brutal, but we kept pressing start regardless. Nowadays, modern games give us relationships, branching dialogue and complex emotional romances, but retro games gave us three lives and the vague promise that if we suffered enough, someone would be waiting at the top of the screen. Sounds rough but we accepted it, because underneath it strikes a chord with who we are, someone we care about is in danger, so we go. We’d climb those girders, fight those demons, nail that jump and even headbutt a dinosaur if necessary.
Love isn’t just blind, according to games of the past, it’s stubborn, slightly unfair and hiding another wave of enemies just off-screen.
Happy Valentine’s Day ….. and mind the barrels.
Andrew Newton
