by RetroRomper » Wed Jun 27, 2012 9:50 am
Everyone here has logged countless hours on a diverse array of games that likely spans the entire gambit of text adventures to Crash Bandicoot, but most of these titles have been playable and on some level, enjoyable. Being able to conjure some hint of enjoyment from every piece of creative work is easy because there is always something to love; not so in the only blatantly horrible game I've had the chance to wave a joystick and randomly hit buttons to, in the hope the experience may soon be over...
GhostBusters for the Commodore 64.
[youtube][/youtube]
My own vague recollection of the last time I popped this game into the system, is of the eye pitched screeching coming from a semi-surround system, overlaid with the bouncing ball which nearly dares you to sing along with the ear popping melody. Even after giving a slight grimace and moving on though, the game map where one navigates their Ecto 2 is confusing; where and what the hell am I to do? Moving to the menu just gives you a set of nearly arbitrary upgrade options for the GhostBusting Vehicle, but then when you drop back down to the game world, running around the map does seemingly nothing.
That is, until one encounters a ghost then its "Don't cross the streams!" as the valiant effort against slimer lookalikes take over. After about an hour of ghost on ghost ghost busting, playing through and upgrading the Ecto II to accommodate the... I don't remember what the upgrades did... I turned off the console and moved on because nothing happened. No special events nor slight reward for me to realize I was leading to an eventual conclusion, just the long and slow road to becoming ever more proficient with a game I wish I hadn't played.
After turning off the console and staying away from the damned game for a few years, I guess in one way the game is memorable; whenever I hear the Ghostbusters theme, I wince at the memory of the high pitched, sharp edged chiptunes version that emanated from a seemingly possessed television, enduring the memory it until the moment passes.
Everyone here has logged countless hours on a diverse array of games that likely spans the entire gambit of text adventures to Crash Bandicoot, but most of these titles have been playable and on some level, enjoyable. Being able to conjure some hint of enjoyment from every piece of creative work is easy because there is always something to love; not so in the only blatantly horrible game I've had the chance to wave a joystick and randomly hit buttons to, in the hope the experience may soon be over...
GhostBusters for the Commodore 64.
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hz5VvMItHmM[/youtube]
My own vague recollection of the last time I popped this game into the system, is of the eye pitched screeching coming from a semi-surround system, overlaid with the bouncing ball which nearly dares you to sing along with the ear popping melody. Even after giving a slight grimace and moving on though, the game map where one navigates their Ecto 2 is confusing; where and what the hell am I to do? Moving to the menu just gives you a set of nearly arbitrary upgrade options for the GhostBusting Vehicle, but then when you drop back down to the game world, running around the map does seemingly nothing.
That is, until one encounters a ghost then its "Don't cross the streams!" as the valiant effort against slimer lookalikes take over. After about an hour of ghost on ghost ghost busting, playing through and upgrading the Ecto II to accommodate the... I don't remember what the upgrades did... I turned off the console and moved on because nothing happened. No special events nor slight reward for me to realize I was leading to an eventual conclusion, just the long and slow road to becoming ever more proficient with a game I wish I hadn't played.
After turning off the console and staying away from the damned game for a few years, I guess in one way the game is memorable; whenever I hear the Ghostbusters theme, I wince at the memory of the high pitched, sharp edged chiptunes version that emanated from a seemingly possessed television, enduring the memory it until the moment passes.