In 1982, a mustachioed, mulletted kid set the high-score record on one of the Golden Age of Arcade Games’ Donkey Kong; in addition, this prestidigitation prodigy also achieved a record high score in Donkey Kong Jr. and was the first player to ever record a perfect game in Pac Man, wherein the player kills all enemies and eats all of pac-dots. This man is Billy Mitchell, a still mustachioed, but longer haired-less mulletted owner of Rickey’s World Famous Restaurant chain, from which he also sells his Rickey’s World Famous sauces.
In 2007, Mitchell also became the villain of all video game competitions when he was included in the documentary King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters, a film directed by Seth Gordon that ostensibly explores the world of professional classic videogaming, but primarily focuses on Steve Weibe (pronounced Weeb), who after becoming unemployed satisfies his downtime by attempting to set a high score on Donkey Kong.
As a documentary, King of Kong is more filmic drama as it fashions a riveting tale that transforms arcade gaming into a vigilant competition filled with deception (is Billy Mitchell’s video-submitted score legitimate, or a product of tape-editing?), subterfuge (are Twin Galaxies, the world’s authority in video game records, and Billy Mitchell in cahoots to prevent Roy “Mr. Awesome” Shildt from laying any direct or indirect claim to the Donkey Kong world record), villains (the aforementioned Shildt and Mitchell), conspiracy (what evidence – or lack of – justifies Weibe’s the disqualification of Weibe’s initially record-breaking score? Plus, why won’t Billy Mitchell ever compete in public while advocating in the early 80’s for all game records to be achieved, documented, and defended in a public forum?), hubris (will Weibe’s determination to break a record shatter his family or will it give him the confidence to pull himself out of the unemployment-drudges?), and a killer soundtrack that nostalgically and accurately frames montages mimicking all 80’s competition movies.
In the end, A Fistful of Quarters is highly entertaining, but because of its drama-genre nature, there are some points lost in an initial viewing of the film. If nothing else, a viewer will automatically come away categorizing Weibe as the underdog hero who has toppled the mighty giant. He has saved his dignity, proved his honesty, and had his mettle tested repeatedly. He shows the determination and will power of any protagonist, and he comes across as an all-around nice guy. We want to root for him. We should root for him. And, why not?
Mitchell is the villain. He is smug, smarmy, cocky, pretentious, condescending, and sarcastic. At the same time, he’s the champion, and what King of Kong ultimately illustrates is the importance of being number one at something. Anything. To put Mitchell’s accomplishments, and all other competitive gamer’s for that matter, the average Donkey Kong player loses all of his or her lives by the third level, and the twenty-second level is known as the kill screen. Because of an error in the program, and a virtual loss of usable memory, a player will randomly perish on the kill screen through no fault of his or her own. Instead, the game virtually concedes to the player.
Billy Mitchell was the first man to reach this kill screen in a public forum.
King of Kong also teaches us how anomalous it is to break a record of this caliber. Not only was Mitchell the first to reach the kill screen, but his record stood for twenty five years before falling to Weibe. The Celtics won ten championships in row, and that’s a record for team sports. While individual gaming does not require the same physical endurance or skill level as major professional sports, Weibe’s name was etched in a record book for two generations. The Celtics lost their streak of supremacy to the Philadelphia 76ers, who gave it back to the Celtics who lost it to the New York Knicks who… And, it goes on and on. The point here being that championships are meant to be won and lost. In the realm of individual gaming, which is quite a lot like golf in its determination of a yearly champion, you reign supreme until you are beaten. In golf, the end of the year is decided by overall performance in majors and how well you shot overall. Your cumulative score often surpasses whether or not you took home a trophy.
That said, Mitchell is portrayed as an arrogant prick, but why shouldn’t he be? And, he’s a clever, arrogant prick to boot. As Weibe is seen beating Mitchell’s record in public, Mitchell partakes in a kind-of conference call – the phone is passed back and forth between two other people – with Walter Day, the World’s Video Game referee and founder of Twin Galaxies, Robert Mruczek, Head Referee, and Brian Kuh, a self-proclaimed Donkey Kong expert. As the phone passes between the three, a video tape is being shown in the same arcade that Weibe has just competed in, showing Mitchell playing a game of Donkey Kong as it crosses the million mark and subsequently beating Weibe’s newly acquired record.
In King of Kong, this infuriates the viewer, and you want burn Mitchell in effigy for his cockiness, but really, this is showmanship. It’s not gamesmanship, but it’s showmanship. Go ask Deion Sanders how it felt to stand on the star in Dallas. Was he expecting to get hit? Yep. Did he want to get hit? Probably. Ask Terrell Owens why he imitated Sanders.
Regardless of his personality, Mitchell is a champion, and he keeps etching his name in the number one position. So, like all great champs, he demonstrates longevity and stamina. He is not unemployed; honestly, it seems he’s over-employed, owning and running a restaurant chain as well as a separate company that makes and distributes his brand of hot sauce.
In the end, King of Kong is a solid, funny, charming, and enlightening re-imagining of Rocky because, in the end, Weibe is really just playing for respect and recognition; the title doesn’t matter so much as the fact that his ability and integrity have been tarnished. But, after thinking more and more about Mitchell’s role as Kong champion, it strikes me that Kong is just as much about being the best. Mitchell has lost his title three times, but he’s regained it four.
DYL MAG Score: 8
