In need of a quiet getaway after completing my fourth novel, last week I booked a hotel on the seafront in Paignton, Devon and planned to spend three days wandering about and reading in cafes. As soon as I arrived, however, I saw that there were several arcades on the main street and on the pier. Obviously, I had to visit them all.
That was a mistake.
As a child living in Cheshire in the 1980s, I spent many happy summer days in the arcades along the Golden Mile in Blackpool. These vast cathedrals of leisure, their exterior walls covered in flashing multicoloured light bulbs, were crammed with the video games of the era. Pac-Man, Space Invaders, Donkey Kong, HyperSports – all lined up in the semi-darkness beside 1970s light gun ranges, pinball machines and one-arm bandits. In the corner, there was always a bingo area, where pensioners in their best outfits sat in front of banks of glowing numbers, drinking 10p cups of tea, eyes down all day. But of course, I was here for the flashing, pinging, reverberating games that they disliked because the noise drowned out the bingo caller. Yet we all came back, day after day.
These were places of joy and excitement. I usually had a pound a day pocket money on holidays so I had to spend it wisely. Most games were 10p a go, but a few of the newer machines were 20p, so those were rationed. In that more expensive bracket, Sega’s brilliant Space Harrier with its hydraulic seat that sent you flying about in parity with your onscreen hero, was a daily must, but I’d also have at least a couple of goes on the Star Wars game with its sit-in cabinet, amazing speech samples from the film, and its atmospheric vector graphics. At 30p a go, Out Run, the legendary driving game also from Sega, was a once a week treat. Its gloriously large cabinet was a reproduction of a Ferrari so it was worth every penny.
The arcades I found in Paignton and further up the coast in Torquay are representative of most modern amusement centres. Rows of coin pushers (or ‘“penny falls” as they were once known) and claw machines, all stacked with tacky prizes. Dozens of slot machines, blinking away with enticing jackpots. In most places, the only video games are big screen versions of mobile titles such as Doodle Jump and Crossy Road, designed to spit out tickets that can be saved, then spent on plastic toys at the arcade’s redemption counter.
Of course, I know why this has happened. The arcade video game business started to decline in the mid-1990s when home consoles such as the PlayStation and Saturn began to accurately reproduce the coin-op experience at home. The arcades fought back for a while with big novelty installation games such as Dance Dance Revolution, Daytona USA and the wonderful Final Furlong, which provided a visual spectacle as well as a physical experience that was hard to replicate at home. But, eventually, the economics became less attractive, and the arcades started closing or changing direction.
These days, classic arcade machines are expensive to maintain and require specialist technical knowledge; the parts aren’t being made any more. There are lots of dedicated retro arcades opening around the country and that’s lovely. But the seaside centres can rarely compete on those terms – they attract a mainstream audience, families passing by, kids entranced by the sight of multiple knock-off Pokémon toys in a glass case with a big claw to grab at them. Teenagers don’t come to play Galaxian anymore.
I did see a few actual arcade games on my travels. One place in Torquay had Dance Dance Revolution and Ferrari F355 Challenge cabinets – they’re still doing what they always did, drawing a small crowd of interested spectators. But in one corner was a two-player Sega Rally machine, switched off. Defunct.
Weirdly, the heroes of the old arcades still haunt these places. I saw a Pac-Man-themed coin pusher, and a lot of claw machines crammed with Mario and Sonic plushies. Spectres from another era. I felt like a ghost too, skulking through the aisles hoping to hear the unmistakable sound of the Kung-Fu Master theme tune or the hissing voice sample from Space Harrier yelling “Welcome to the Fantasy Zone, get ready”. But they’re long gone.
Seaside arcades still have the same role they always had, I guess. They’re still places to head to in bad weather, or during the early evening when the beach has cooled but it’s too early to get fish and chips. There is still fun to be had. I read a Google Maps review of one of the arcades I visited – it was left by a woman who was eight months pregnant and had brought her children in for an afternoon. The arcade staff sat her down and bought her free cups of tea while her kids ran riot, thrilled by the flashing lights. I was glad to read that.
But I left Paignton without putting a single coin in a single slot. This would have been unimaginable to nine-year-old me, my pockets filled with 10p pieces, the sounds of laser guns, revving engines and robotic voices calling to me from across the promenade.
What to play
Originally launched in 2021, Neurocracy is a fascinating murder mystery game set entirely within a fictitious version of Wikipedia. Players must browse pages of information about the near-future setting and use it to solve the murder of a rich tech investor.
Neurocracy 2.049 is an updated version with new features and side-stories, and it’s such an imaginative and meaningful use of a browser experience to create engrossing narrative. Please do give it a go.
Available on: PC
Playtime: 10 hours
What to read
Ubisoft CEO, Yves Guillemot, has been chatting to the Financial Times about his decision to purchase the streaming rights to Activision’s games – a key element in Microsoft getting its Activision purchase approved by the CMA. “We strongly believe in the next five to 10 years, many games will be streamed and will also be produced in the cloud,” Guillemot told the paper.
Polygon has an interesting piece on why the gorgeous indie game Mineko’s Night Market has taken eight years to make. It seems like the industry’s approach to game development and mental health is slowly changing – at least in some sectors.
The latest on the whole Unity runtime fee scandal is that the company is scrapping the controversial charge for some developers while implementing new revenue share models. It could be too little too late however, with dozens of developers posting statements on Twitter/X announcing their shift to other game engines, and even donating to rivals such as Godot.
What to click
Making a monster: how to build a budget gaming PC without losing your mind
Cyberpunk 2077: Phantom Liberty review – excellent expansion enhances an overhauled game
‘We remade it from a fan’s perspective’: the creators of Final Fantasy VII Rebirth
Mortal Kombat 1 review – Johnny Cage and co return with the same old moves
Question Block
This week’s question comes from Tom Waterman who asks:
“I’ve finally got around to playing the Resident Evil 4 remake and am struck by how much of the original’s coin-operated feel has been retained. To free gaming from 200-hour slogfests do we need to reconnect with capital-a ‘Arcade’ gaming?”
I do feel that the basic economics of the games industry are going to tempt more developers into thinking about creating shorter, more intense arcade-style adventures. It can take up to six years to make an epic open-world game now, and with workers unionising and fighting back against crunch culture, that figure could double, with a huge addition to costs. Two of the best recent games, Sea of Stars and Lies of P come in at around 30 hours – not exactly short, but certainly more concise than the 100 or so hours you’d need to put into, say, The Witcher 3. Plus, we’re about to get Assassin’s Creed Mirage – a significantly condensed instalment in the series, set entirely in one city: ninth century Baghdad (above).
There are external pressures too. The gaming population is maturing, and the competition on our leisure time is increasing, so perhaps that means a desire for shorter, more intense games. Look at how American TV went through a similar evolution a few years ago – a TV season used to be 24 episodes, but with the advent of streaming channels that’s been reduced to eight to 10 episodes. That has a lot to do with the different funding, budget and delivery mechanisms involved, but it’s also a recognition that intensity is important in an age of stifling choice. Developers such as Platinum Games, Team Ninja and Respawn have perfected the art of combining arcade-style reflex action with strong, streamlined narratives. I think more studios will have to look in this direction in the future.
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