It's On Like... Well, You Know

Tonight, I watched the documentary The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters. It follows two men, one an established competitive gamer with a three decade pedigree, another a down-on-his-luck family man, each competing for the record high score at Donkey Kong.

In its short 80 minutes, this documentary covers a lot of ground, and is a surprisingly emotional experience.

In the first segment, you get a look at the world of competitive gaming, old school style. People competing for record scores on coin-op arcade machines of the early 80s. Some might find it a little odd. Others might find it hitting close to home. For myself, I found it fascinating just how similarly these people who take this so seriously are to people who take sports seriously -- yet mainstream society finds the sports "fetish" completely socially acceptable, and puts people like this on the fringe.

In this opening segment, the film really makes you understand how freaking hard the game Donkey Kong really is. Of course, if you're the sort of person inclined to read my blog, you've probably played it a few times yourself, and don't need me to tell you that. It's silly-hard for a simple arcade game, and this documentary does a credible job of putting it at the absolute pinnacle of 80s arcade skill tests.

Then, enter the challenger, a man who tries to beat the record score that's held for 25 years. He's doing it just cause he thinks he can, and doesn't have much else going for him that he feels he can "prove himself" with. Unfortunately for him, the man who buys his machine to practice on in his garage happens to be someone with a long standing feud with the existing record holder, and is "staking" this unknown to stick it to his arch-rival.

And then things take a really unsettling turn.

The documentary becomes a real underdog story, as the established champion and his buddies who have control over the authentication of video game records act deplorably. They become a sort of despotic evil empire bent on self-preservation, holding the little turf they staked out. It comes off every bit as wicked as any governmental or corporate corruption you've read about, as unjust as any "little guy taking on big industry" court case you've heard of.

And just as surely as any carefully-crafted piece of good fiction gets you all but on your feet cheering for the protagonist, I found myself absolutely on the edge of my seat, screaming at my television for this underdog to pull through and stick it to this bunch of bullies.

Now, you might argue that this a manipulation of the documentary, presenting a one-sided case. To that, I have two responses. First, watch the film. Watch the way everyone acts. I have no reason to think the editors are withholding footage that might make this little cabal more likeable than they appear. And secondly, so what if it is a manipulation? A documentary film is still a film, and as such I think it still has a duty to the audience to entertain. "You'll laugh, you'll cry." Fiction is acceptably manipulative in achieving such ends, why shouldn't a documentary be?

Quite simply, I loved this movie. About the only mark I could make against it is in regards to its ending. I'll try and be as cirumspect about this as I possibly can, because I don't want to blow it for any of you. I hope it vague enough to say that the film doesn't quite offer closure. Of course, that's not always possible when your story is one of real life events. But as a piece of entertainment, it is a small "deduction" from the overall score.

Still, I'd rate The King of Kong an A-. I was thoroughly entertained, and I think you would be too.