by Daniel "Tanz" Lattanzio, staff writer

Whenever someone compiles a list of "The Worst Video Games of all Time, "there are always the same ones that keep popping up, such as Superman 64 and Total Recall. One that always makes the grade (so to speak) is "E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial" for the Atari 2600 - even Seanbaby named it the worst of all-time. Some have even gone as far to say that it played a role in the Great Video Game Crash of '83. And it is no secret that millions of game carts were smashed and buried somewhere in New Mexico.

Many who like to tear this game apart have never even played it and, contrary to popular belief, not every game was returned and destroyed, as I still have one sitting in my collection. One might even say it's a tad unfair for those too young to remember this "gem" to speak so harshly, and I, for one, am getting tired of it. So, relax and join me as I play Devil's Advocate and defend one of most maligned games of all time:

First, a little history...

The year was 1982 and a little movie named E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial not-so-quietly came and went from the theatres, picking up several millions of dollars along the way and convincing young nine-year-olds, such as myself, that Reese's Pieces REALLY didn't taste like ass-in-a-shell. The minds at Atari decided that licensing the cinematic juggernaut for a game would be akin to just writing themselves a large check for millions. There were just a few problems:

• In July of that year, Atari promised Steven Spielberg that the game would be on store selves in time for Christmas.
• This meant there was VERY little time to actually make such a high-profile game, so no programmers wanted to do it.

Atari turned to Howard Scott Warshaw, the man that created the games Yar's Revenge and Raiders of the Lost Ark (two of my personal favorites, by the way). They told him near the end of July that they would need the game by the first of September, and Warshaw agreed to do it - for the right price.

When the game was released, it was not like it was now; there was no EGM or 1up to warn anyone. Parents went to the store and recognized the supposedly-cute alien face and brought the game home to their unsuspecting brood. Some would have you believe that the parents, in disgust, immediately returned the game for bags of marbles and holy water. To the best of my knowledge, few actually bought marbles.

My mother took me to see the movie at the drive-in (yes - I am that old) and I don't think it really had too much of an effect on me. I don't like to think I was that cynical by nine (I'm sure it hit me later in life, like twelve) but I recall the movie being only okay. (If memory serves, I was more interested in Porky's playing on the screen across the lot behind me.)

My mother being, well, a mom, bought the game for me when it came out. I was always excited to play a new game, so I dove right in. Let's take a look at the game play:

Actually, the ship drops you off and then just takes off. You may notice that little target-thing on the bar at the top center of the screen. Whenever you take a few steps, that icon would change. Its purpose was to signal what you could do with you pressed the red button on the joystick, thus extending your neck in typical E.T. fashion. If it was an arrow, you could "warp" to whatever screen was in the direction of the arrow. If it was a question mark, a blip would flash in one of the holes, signaling a collectable communication piece. (We'll come back to that.) Holding down the button while moving would cause E.T. to run, but use up more of your life. You could gain life (which was actually just your score at the bottom of the screen) by eating little black rocks, which were actually Reese's Pieces (in disguise, I guess), centered on several of the screens.

Four of the screens were similar to the above shot - a green field filled with various holes. Within one of the holes is a piece of the "space phone" you're trying to collect and assemble. You really don't want to randomly jump into the holes, because it cost health to float back out (and can be a pain to avoid falling back in).

Once you find the three pieces, you go back to the landing field and summon your ship. Easy, right? Not really, because you have an FBI agent and a scientist chasing you down and, if they catch you, they'll carry you back to their office or take your phone pieces, respectively.

That screen has the FBI Agent and Scientist's buildings, with Elliot's house at the bottom. (You can give Elliot the Reese's Pieces that you've collected.) This is where you end up if you are captured. Don't worry: they'll go through the trouble of following you everywhere, but they don't bother to actually lock you up once they capture you.

Once you get all the pieces, you summon the ship and wait in the spot where it is to land to pick you up. As long as no humans appear, you'll catch a lift and Elliot will give you your final score.

As I said, I own this game and find that most are too critical of it - especially those that have never even played it. I actually enjoy this game for what it was: an enjoyable little puzzle game on a limited-technology system. I would come up with challenges, such as trying to find the phone pieces by running around and randomly falling into holes before I ran out of life, or I would just summon Elliot to come to me and run from him in a bizarre game of tag.

The problem is that this was one of the first major movies licensed to a video game and it suffered from little development time, but it was far from the last. Atari promised more than they could handle, but that was just one of many poor business decisions they had made in that time period. Had this not been a game about E.T., but was instead about Allen the Lost Alien, the game would have fared far better. Trust me, there were MANY far worse games for the 2600; Shark Attack and Combat pop to mind immediately.

Furthermore, it is easy to blast this game now, as we sit and wait for the Xbox 360 and PS3 to come out. Trust me, at the time, the picture of E.T. on the splash screen was pretty damn cool-looking, and the graphics, for the time, were not that bad either. Think I am joking? Hunt down a copy of Donkey Kong Jr. for the 2600 and compare. DKJr had about three different sprites and two of them looked like an old brown woman pushing a vacuum cleaner and the sounds seemed like they were just randomly thrown into the game. At least you could, more or less, figure out what things were in this game - that is better than a great number of 2600 titles.

I could go further: I own two of the three Swordquest games for the Atari 2600. (The series was so bad, the fourth one was never released.) In E.T. I knew what was going on, what I had to do and where I had to go. Even with the manuals, comics, box art and blessed rosary, I still had NO idea what the hell was going on in the Swordquest games. Every now and then, I'll play Swordquest: Fireworld as a form of self-punishment. I'm not saying Swordquest games are the worst of all time, but I will guarantee that the Blockbuster stores in Hell ALWAYS have this game in stock.

If one ignores the movie license, this is not a bad game for the time it took to make it; it was still far more fun that many of its peers and it is time for the piling-on to slow down, if not stop completely. And don't just badmouth it because "everyone else knows how bad it is." Better yet, actually try the game before ragging on the "Worst Game I Have [N]Ever played!"

Your friend,
Tanz

Your friend, Tanz
Email: darktanz@excite.com
AIM: DanielAtDP
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