|
In 1982 at age 17, Billy Mitchell, who looks like a cross between Tom Selleck and Jesus, set the world record high score in the most difficult of the classic arcade games Donkey Kong, becoming a legend in the world of competitive arcade gaming. A video game savant and fierce competitor, Mitchell not only holds several arcade records, but also helped establish a governing body known as Twin Galaxies to record official video game records. In the years since his Donkey Kong glory days, Mitchell has also become a successful hot sauce mogul and restaurateur in Florida, though he still works fastidiously to uphold his own legend as the rock star of gaming.
Twenty-one years after Mitchell set the Donkey Kong record, Washington family man Steve Wiebe was laid off of his job at Boeing on the same day he and his wife settled on their new home. He passed the time until landing a new job as a junior high science teacher perfecting his natural talent for Donkey Kong every night in his garage. One day he ran across Mitchell's high score on the Twin Galaxies website and realized he could surpass it, which he did, earning a score of over 1,000,000 points. But when he submitted video taped proof of his achievement to Twin Galaxies, it was disputed and ultimately disqualified, launching a rivalry between Mitchell and Wiebe, the veteran hot shot and the unassuming newcomer, for the definitive Donkey Kong world record.
This might at first seem like the kind of story that would interest only ubernerds and hardcore gamers, but in the hands of producer Ed Cunningham and director Seth Gordon, The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters distills a pretty weird and relatively insignificant competition down to a universal human story we can all relate to: good versus evil. And in this story, perhaps not entirely fairly, Billy Mitchell is the bad guy. Wearing his tapered jeans and patriotic ties, surrounded by his court of worshipful toadies, Mitchell seems stuck in a 1980's time warp, determined to do whatever it takes to hold on to his Donkey Kong record, the title that defined his life. His would-be usurper Steve Wiebe is the kind of guy who came in second place his whole life, a sort of lovable schlub who sees Donkey Kong as his chance to finally excel at something and win. In the struggle between the cocky hot sauce mogul and the unassuming junior high science teacher, you can't help but root for the nice guy underdog.
The King of Kong also offers a glimpse into the subculture of competitive arcade gaming, an insular world populated by players who compete for high scores in classic arcade games such as Donkey Kong, Centipede, and Pac-Man. It would be easy to make fun of these guys, who are largely socially awkward textbook nerds, but in a basic way, they actually have a lot in common with any other group of enthusiasts, from musicians to athletes, who spend hours practicing and competing, striving for and sometimes achieving perfection through talent and willpower. The King of Kong is certainly about a niche group of people, but this strangely compelling documentary (with an ongoing ending, I might add) definitely has a wider appeal as a true underdog story and the tale of two men's struggle for perfection.
[Andarko's 100 Movies]
|